Sermons

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
AT LOS ANGELES

GIFT OF

J.D. Easter

SERMQ

BT THE

SAN

ANSELMO
MARIN '

REV. SAMUEL DAVIES, A.M.,

PRESIDENT OF TIIE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY.

WITH A

FUNERAL SERMON BY THE REV. SAMUEL FINLEY, D. D,

HIS SUCCESSOR IN THAT OFFICE,
AND SOME ACCOUNT OF PRESIDENT DAVIES, BY THE REV. THOMAS

GIBBONS, D. D., OF LONDON, AND THE REV. DAVID
BOSTWICK, M. A., ov NEW YOEK.

CONTAINING ALSO

AN INTRODUCTORY MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES,

BY THE

REV. WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D.D.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

IS

PHILADELPHIA:

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,

No. 821 CHESTNUT STKEET.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by

THE TRUSTEES OF THE
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States in and
for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

STEREOTYPED BT WILLIAM W. HARDING, PHILADELPHIA.

>

yj

OF

VOLUME I.

I. Preface to the first London Edition 9

II. Memoir of President Davies by the Eev. "William B. Sprague, D.D. 11

<^ III. A Sermon preached at Princeton, N. J., on occasion of the death
of President Davies, by the Eev. Samuel Finley, D.D., after-
*• wards his successor as President of the College. ,: , . 31

%j IV. An Appendix to President Finley's Sermon, by another hand. . 49

V. A portion of two discourses preached in London on the same occa-
sion by the Eev. Thomas Gibbons, D.D 55

VI. The Character of Prest. Davies, by the Eev. David Bostwick, A.M.,

of New York, .,•;.•. .... •;•—.».. • • 65

V. SEEMON I.

THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY OF THE CHRISTIAN RE-
"^j LIGION.

LUKE xvi. 27-31. — Then he said, I pray thee, therefore, father, that thou
wouldest send him to my father's house : for I have five brethren ; that
he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment.
Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets; let them
hear them. And he said, Nay, father Abraham : but if one went unto
them from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto him, If they
hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though
one rose from the dead 71

SEEMON II.

THE NATURE OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST EXPLAINED AND
RECOMMENDED.

JOHN in. 16. — For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in him, should not perish, but have everlast-
ing life 109

3

V

4 CONTENTS.

SERMON III.

SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD.

2 COR. v. 20. — Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did
beseech you by us : we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to
God. 137

SERMON IV.

THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY OP SPIRITUAL DEATH.

EPHES. ii. 1 and 5. — Who were dead in trespasses and sins. — Even when
we were dead in sins, » 162

SERMON V.

THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE.

EPHES. ii. 4, 6. — But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love where-
with he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us to-
gether with Christ 189

SERMON VI.

POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF THE DIVINE FAVOUR.

ISAIAH LXVI. 2, — To this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of
a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word. .... 211

SERMON VII.

THE NATURE AND DANGER OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST AND SAL-
VATION.

MATT. xxn. 5. — But they made light of it 230

SERMON VIII.

THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST TO WEAK BELIEVERS.

MATT. xn. 20. — A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall
he not quench 248

SERMON IX.

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PRESENT HOLINESS AND FUTURE FELICITY.

HEB. xn. 14. — Follow Holiness, without which no man shall see the
Lord. 268

CONTENTS. 5

SERMON X.

THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND GLORIES OP JESUS CHKI8T.

JOHN xvni. 37. — Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king then ?
Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a king. To this end was I born,
and for this cause came I into the world that I should bear witness unto
the truth. 285

SERMON XI.

THINGS UNSEEN TO BE PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN.

2 COR. IT. 18. — While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the
things which are not seen : for the things which are seen are temporal ;
but the things which are not seen are eternal 318

SERMON XII.

THE SACRED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAME.

ACTS xi. 26. — The disciples were called Christians first in Antioch. . 335
SERMON XIII.

THE DIVINE MERCY TO MOURNING PENITENTS.

JER. xxxi. 18, 19, 20. — I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself
thus : Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccus-
tomed to the yoke : turn thou me, and I shall be turned ; for thou art the
Lord my God. Surely after that I was turned, I repented ; and after that
I was instructed, I smote upon my thigh : I was ashamed, yea, even con-
founded, because I did bear the reproach of my youth. Is Ephraim my
dear son? is he a pleasant child? for since I spake against him, I do
earnestly remember him still : therefore my bowels are troubled for him ;
I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord. . . . 354

SERMON XIV.

CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS.

1 PET. II. 7. — Unto you therefore which believe, he is precious. . 379
SERMON XV.

THE DANGER OF LUKEWARMNE8S IN RELIGION.

REV. in. 15, 16. — I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I
I would thou wert cold or hot. So, then, because thou art lukewarm, and
neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth. . . 404

6 CONTENTS.

SERMON XVI.

THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT THE JOT OF OUR WOULD.

PSALM xcvii. 1. — The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice; let the multi-
tude of isles be glad thereof. « . ".' '" . . . . 423

SERMON XVII.

THE NAME OF GOD PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF.

EXODUS xxxiii. 18, 19. — And he said, I beseech thee, show me thy glory.
And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will
proclaim the name of the LORD before thee ;

WITH CHAP. XXXIV. 6, 7.

And the LORD passed by before him, and proclaimed, The LORD, the LORD
God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in goodness and
truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgres-
sion, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty. . . 442

SEKMON XVIII.

GOD IS LOVE.

1 JOHN iv. 8.— God is Love 465

SERMON XIX.

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

JOHN v. 28, 29. — The hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves
shall hear his voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done good, unto
the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrec-
tion of damnation. . *" . 493

SERMON XX.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

ACTS xvil. 30, 31. — And the times of this ignorance God winked at ; but
now commandeth all men every where to repent : because he hath ap-
pointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by
that man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance unto
all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead. . . . 617

CONTENTS. 7

SERMON XXI.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

LUKE x. 41, 42. — And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha,
thou art careful and troubled about many things ; but one thing is need-
ful ; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away
from her. 551

SERMON XXII.

SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF

SINNERS.

1 PET. iv. 18. — And if the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the un-
godly and the sinner appear ? 577

SERMON XXIII.

INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY.

1 COR. vii. 29, 80, 31. — But this I say, brethren, the time is short: it re-
maineth, that both they that have wives, be as though they had none ; and
they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as though
they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as though they possessed not ; and
they that use this world, as not abusing it; for the fashion of this world
passeth away. . . • . • . . • . . . 597

SEKMON XXIV.

THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED THE MEAN OF SALVATION.

1 COR. i. 22, 23, 24. — For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after
wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block,
and unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them which are called, both
Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 620

SERMON XXV.

INGRATITUDE TO GOD A HEINOUS BUT GENERAL INIQUITY.

2 CHRON. xxxn. 25. — But Hezekiah rendered not again according to the
benefit done unto him . 652

TO THE

FIRST LONDON EDITION.

IT is with real pleasure I now send into the world a collection of
Sermons, by that eminent and amiable man, and my most esteemed
and beloved friend, the Rev. Mr. Samuel Davies. I hope I may be
"the honoured instrument of promoting the great interests of vital
evangelical godliness, by communicating to the public a number of
Discourses, which appear to me admirably calculated to increase the
knowledge and power of real religion in the minds and hearts of men.

Those who knew and heard Mr. Davies will need no further proof
than the perusal of the discourses themselves, that they are the real
productions of the author to whom they are ascribed. The sun shows
himself to be the sun by the very beams with which he irradiates and
enlivens mankind, and is easily distinguished from other luminaries by
his surpassing lustre. * *

I most sincerely wish that young ministers more especially would
peruse these volumes with the deepest attention and seriousness, and
endeavour, in conjunction with earnest prayer for divine illumination
and assistance, to form their discourses according to the model of our
author; in which, if I mistake not, are the following excellences,
most worthy of imitation :

A calm and elaborate inquiry into the connection of those passages
of Scripture which he chooses for his subjects, and a close investiga-
tion, when it appeared necessary, into the meaning of his text by re-
searches into the original language, and fair and learned criticism ; a
careful attention to the portions of sacred writ upon which he proposes
to treat, so that his discourse as naturally arises from his theme as the
branch grows from the root, or the stream issues from the fountain.
In every page, and almost every line of Mr. Davies' sermons, his
VOL. I.— 2 9

10 PREFACE.

readers may discover the subject he at first professed to handle ; and
he is ever illustrating, proving, or enforcing some truth or another
evidently contained in it ; a reigning regard to the divine word by
comparing and confirming Scripture by Scripture, by taking the sacred
text in its easy and natural sense, and by apt and pertinent citations
of passages from holy writ, both in the proof and amplification ; at
the same time that our author by no means omits a regard to the dic-
tates of natural conscience and reason, while he either makes his ap-
peal to them, or introduces passages from Pagan antiquity on proper
occasions, and to answer some valuable purposes ; an observance of
method and order, so as to proceed, like a wise builder, in laying the
foundation, and regularly erecting the superstructure, and yet diversi-
fying his method and order, by making them at some times open and
express, and at other times indirect and implicit ; a free, manly dic-
tion, without anything of a nice and affected accuracy, or a loud sound-
ing torrent of almost unintelligible words on the one side, or a loose
negligence, or mean and low-creeping phrases, unworthy an admission
into the pulpit, on the other ; a rich vein of evangelical doctrine and
promise, with a large infusion at proper seasons of practical duty, or
awful denunciation of the divine wrath against impenitent and incor-
rigible sinners ; an impartial regard to the cases of all his hearers,
like a good steward distributing to all their portion of meat in due
season ; animated and pathetic application, in which our author collects
and concentrates what he has been proving in his discourses, and urges
it with all the powers of forcible address and melting persuasion to the
heart.

Such appear to me to be the excellences of Mr. Davies' Sermons.
May young ministers more particularly copy them with divine success,
and be, like him, " burning and shining lights" in their several sta-
tions, till, having guided and animated their respective charges in the
way to heaven, they and their people may at last " shine forth, like
the sun, in the kingdom of their father."

Such are the sincere prayers of the editor,

THOMAS GIBBONS.
Hoxton- Square, October 21, 1770.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

BY THE REV. WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D.D.

SAMUEL DAVIES was born near Summit Ridge, in the county of
Newcastle, Delaware, on the 3d of November, 1723. Both his parents
were of Welsh extraction. His father was a farmer of very simple
habits, of great integrity, and of well accredited Christian character.
His mother was distinguished not only for fine intellectual endow-
ments, but for deep spirituality and intense devotion to the cause of
Christ ; and this son is said to have been given her in answer to spe-
cial prayer, in token of which she named him Samuel, as she solemnly
devoted him to the Lord. The father died two years before the son ;
the mother survived him for a long period, and was an inmate of the
family of the Rev. Dr. John Rodgers, of New York.

This child, thus dedicated in his infancy to the service of Christ and
his Church, by parental faith, was early cared for, in all his intellect-
ual, moral, and spiritual interests, in the best manner that the circum-
stances permitted. As there was no school in the neighbourhood, he
received the rudiments of his education under the teaching of his
mother ; and though, during the years of his early boyhood, he
evinced the usual vivacity and sprightliness incident to that period, he
was, by no means, unaffected by his mother's pious counsels and
instructions. At the age of ten, he was sent to an English school, at
some distance from home, where he remained two years ; and during
this period made rapid progress in his studies, though at the expense
of losing, in a measure, the religious impressions which a mother's
watchful and devoted attentions had made upon him. He, however,
still continued the habit of secret prayer, and cherished the purpose of

11

12 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

devoting himself to the Christian ministry. At the age of twelve, his
impressions were greatly revived and strengthened, and there is rea-
son to believe that, at this time, if not before, he became a subject of
renewing grace. He did not, however, make a public profession of his
faith until he had reached his fifteenth year. The subject of religion
now became with him all-engrossing : while he enjoyed, in a high
degree, the comforts of a good hope through grace, he scrutinized the
motives and principles of his own conduct with the utmost care, and
met the temptations of the world with an heroic resistance that would
not have dishonoured the most advanced Christian.

Having the ministry now distinctly in his eye, he prosecuted his
studies with renewed vigour, and made rapid progress in every depart-
ment of knowledge to which he directed his attention. He com-
menced his classical course under the instruction of the Rev. Abel
Morgan, a highly respectable Welsh minister, of the Baptist denomi-
nation ; but when the Rev. Samuel Blair opened his famous school at
Fagg's Manor, Chester county, Pa., he was transferred to that school,
where he remained till both his classical and theological education was
completed. The instruction here was most thorough, and the religious
atmosphere most healthful ; so that while young Davies was making
rapid improvement in the various branches of human learning, as well
as becoming a proficient in speculative theology, he was also steadily
growing in grace, and rising into a nearer conformity to that Master to
whom he had devoted himself. So intense was his application to
study that, by the time his course in the institution was completed, his
health, which was at best frail, had become quite seriously impaired.
Having sustained his several preparatory trials in a most creditable
manner, he was licensed to preach the Gospel, by the Presbytery of
Newcastle, on the 30th of July, 1746. On the 23d of October follow-
ing, he was married to Sarah Kirkpatrick.

On the 19th of February, 1747, he was ordained as an Evangelist,
with a view to his visiting certain congregations in Hanover county,
Va., whence he had received aid in his preparatory studies. His mis-
sion into that region was regarded as one of great delicacy and diffi-
culty, especially in view of the fact that civil suits had already been
instituted, and were then pending, against several clergymen, for hold-
ing religious worship in a manner not sanctioned by the laws of the
Province ; a matter in relation to which the public mind was then

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 13

deeply agitated. Mr. Davies hesitated, partly on account of his inex-
perience in the ministry, and his want of familiarity with ecclesiastical
rules and usages, and partly on account of his feeble health, to under-
take the mission ; but the remarkable powers he had developed, in
connection with the very decidedly favourable impression which his
preaching had made while he was a probationer, seemed to point him
out as better fitted than any one else to occupy that difficult field.

In due time, Mr. Davies set out for Virginia, and, before going to
his appointed field of labour, repaired to Williamsburg, to obtain from
the General Court a license to officiate at four meeting-houses in and
about Hanover. The Governor favoured the application, and, through
his influence, the following license was obtained from the General
Court, dated April 14, 1767 :—

" On the petition of Samuel Davies, a Dissenting minister, who,
this day, in Court, took the usual oaths to His Majesty's person and
government, and subscribed the Test, and likewise publicly declared
his assent thereunto, he is allowed to assemble and meet any congrega-
tions of Dissenters at the several meeting-houses on the lands of
Samuel Morris, David Rice, and Stephen Leacy, in Hanover County,
and on the lands of Thomas Watkins, in Henrico County, without
molestation, they behaving in a peaceable manner, and conforming
themselves according to the directions of the Acts of Parliament in
that behalf made."

While the trials of those who had been prosecuted for worshipping
God contrary to law were still in progress, Mr. Davies proceeded to
Hanover with his license in his pocket; and when the people knew
under what circumstances he had come to them, they were ready to
welcome him as an angel of mercy. His preaching was listened to on
every side with profound attention and admiration ; combining, as it
did, the highest graces of rhetoric and elocution with the most lumi-
nous, simple, and forcible exhibition of divine truth. He laboured in
Hanover and several adjacent counties not far from four months ; and
wherever he preached, a desire was expressed that his labours might
be permanently secured. When the allotted time for his mission had
expired, he returned to his friends at the North, but not till he had
received the most importunate requests to come back and make Vir-
ginia his home. Indeed, he had no sooner taken his leave of them,
than they made out a regular call for him, and sent it to the Presbytery.

14 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

Scarcely had he returned to Delaware, when he met with a sore af-
fliction in the sudden death of his wife. The shock materially affected
his health ; his hectic tendencies, which had before developed them-
selves to some extent, now became more decided ; and he was fully
impressed with the conviction that the time of his departure was at
hand. But this only seemed to quicken his zeal to labour to the
utmost while the day should last ; and hence, after preaching in the
day-time, he would sometimes at night find himself with a burning
fever which would bring on delirium, requiring one or more persons to
sit up with him. Being unable to take charge of a congregation while
in this feeble state, he travelled, as he was able, from one vacancy to
another, preaching to the extent of his ability, and rendering himself
everywhere an object of the highest interest. In the spring of 1748,
there was considerable alleviation of his malady, though he himself
regarded it as only temporary, and fully expected that the disease
would have a fatal termination. Many earnest applications were made
for his pastoral services ; and the call from Virginia was renewed,
signed by about one hundred and fifty heads of families, and urged
with great importunity by the person who was appointed to present it.
Of his own feelings in view of this call, he has left the following
record : — " Upon the arrival of a messenger from Hanover, I put my
life in my hand, and determined to accept their call, hoping I might
live to prepare the way for some more useful successor, and willing to
expire under the fatigues of duty, rather than in voluntary negli-
gence." No man could have been better fitted than he to occupy the
field to which he was now called. While the people were suffering
manifold difficulties from the enforcement of the unrighteous laws of
the Province, in the form of indictments, fines and costs of Court, the
ears of many of them were open to receive the truth from his lips ;
and he, in turn, feeling that his time for active service was short, and
that the demand for evangelical labour in the region around him was
most urgent, addressed himself to his work with a strength of purpose
and a simple dependence on Divine aid, that gave a mighty power to
his ministrations.

On this, his second journey to Virginia, Mr. Davies was accompa-
nied by his friend, the Rev. John Rodgers, (afterwards Dr. Rodgers,
of New York,) who had been a fellow-student with him, under the
Rev. Samuel Blair, at Fagg's Manor. They had become strongly

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 15

attached to each other during the, period of their education, and, under
the same influences, had imbibed, in a high degree, the same spirit —
both were glowing with love to the Saviour and the cause for which
he died. It was at Mr. Davies' earnest request that the Presbytery
appointed Mr. Rodgers to perform a few months' missionary labour in
Virginia — that thus these two might become, for the time, not only
companions, but fellow-helpers. They commenced their journey to
Virginia, in April, 1748, and went directly to Hanover, when, after
passing a Sabbath, and each of them preaching a sermon, they pro-
ceeded to Williamsburg, to procure for Mr. Rodgers a license to preach
in the Province. In this, however, they were unsuccessful; for
though the Governor (Gooch) strongly favoured the application, and
did his utmost to have the license granted, the decision of the majority of
the Council was adverse to it, and thus the young missionary was obliged
to look out for another field of labour. Accordingly, before the close
of May, he had taken leave of his friend Davies, crossed the Chesa-
peake Bay, and, after stopping for a while on the eastern shore of Mary-
land, finally settled as pastor of the church of St. George's, in Delaware.

The high motives which controlled Mr. Davies in the selection of
his field of labour may be inferred from the following extract from a
letter addressed by him to the Bishop of London, in whose diocese
Virginia was reckoned, under date of January 10, 1752, nearly four
years after his ministry in Hanover commenced :

" I solemnly assure your Lordship that it was not the secret thirst
of filthy lucre, nor the prospect of any other personal advantage, that
induced me to settle here in Virginia. For sundry congregations in
Pennsylvania, my native country, and in other Northern colonies,
most earnestly importuned me to settle among them ; where I should
have had at least an equal temporal maintenance, incomparably more
ease, leisure, and peace, and the happiness of the frequent society of
my brethren ; and where I should never have made a great noise or
bustle in the world, but concealed myself in the crowd of my superior
brethren, and spent my life in some little service for God and his
Church in some peaceful corner, which would have been most becom-
ing so insignificant a creature, and more agreeable to my recluse natu-
ral temper. But all these strong inducements were overweighed by a
sense of the necessities of the Dissenters, as they lay two or three
hundred miles distant from the nearest minister of their own denomi-

16 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

nation, and laboured under peculiar embarrassments for the want of
a settled ministry."

In the summer of 1748, Mr. Davies' preaching attracted great atten-
tion, and many more demands were made for his public services than
he was able to meet. In order to avoid all collisions with the public
authorities, who were resolutely determined to execute the laws in
favour of the English Church, various petitions were presented to the
General Court for an increased number of authorized houses of wor-
ship. Accordingly, three additional places of preaching were licensed,
thus making seven in all, namely, three in Hanover, one in Henrico,
one in Goochland, one in Louisa, and one in Caroline county. Of
these he says in his letter to the Bishop of London : — " The nearest
are twelve or fifteen miles apart, and many of the people have ten,
fifteen, or twenty miles to the nearest, and thirty, forty, or sixty miles
to the rest ; nay, some of them have thirty or forty miles to the
nearest."

On the 4th of October, 1748, Mr. Davies formed a second matrimo-
nial connection with Miss Jane Holt, of Hanover. She was a lady of
great excellence, became the mother of six children, and survived her
husband many years. His residence at this time was about twelve
miles from Richmond, in the neighbourhood of the meeting-house
near what is known as " Morris' Reading House." The edifice, which
accommodated about five hundred people, was quite too small for the
multitude that thronged to hear him preach ; the consequence of which
was that they were obliged often to hold their services in an adjoining
forest.

Though Mr. Davies had little difficulty in getting the sanction of
the public authorities to his occupying so wide a field of labour, he
was subsequently brought into collision with Peyton Randolph, the
King's Attorney General, on the question whether the Act of Tolera-
tion which had been passed in England expressly for the relief of
Protestant Dissenters, extended also to Virginia. That this was the
design of the Act, he maintained, in the presence of the General Court,
with such force of argument and eloquence, as to awaken the admira-
tion even of those who were most hostile to the position he defended ;
and it was no small gratification to him, on his subsequent visit to
England, to have his own views on this subject fully endorsed by the
King in Council.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 17

Mr. Davies, besides occupying sever different places for preaching,
and taking frequent journeys to attend the judicatories of the Church,
made many missionary excursions in the parts of the country now
forming the counties of Cumberland, Powhatan, Prince Edward, Char-
lotte, Campbell, Nottoway, and Amelia. In performing these circuits,
he was accustomed either to preach at the places where he lodged, or
to address the family and servants in respect to their immortal inter-
ests, at evening worship. These services were often attended with a
special blessing ; and each successive tour that he made, brought some
new requests for Presbyterian preaching. He was also deeply con-
cerned for the spiritual interests of the coloured people labouring
among them with the utmost condescension and faithfulness, and
bringing not a few of them to the acknowledgment and obedience of
the truth. And, to crown all, he not only laboured earnestly to sup-
ply the vacancies around him with ministers from the Northern Pres-
byteries, but inaugurated a system of measures for providing ministers
for Virginia from among her own youth. He did not, however, desire
that their education should be completed under his own direction, but
encouraged them ultimately to seek the higher advantages which
were famished by the College of New Jersey.

As early as September, 1751, a petition was presented to the Synod
of New York by the Trustees of the College of New Jersey, that the
Rev. Ebenezer Pemberton, of New York, might be commissioned to
visit Great Britain with a view to solicit donations in behalf of the
then infant College. A committee was appointed to confer with Mr.
Pemberton on the subject ; but he persistently declined to listen to
their proposals. The next year, by direction of Synod, collections
were taken for the object in different congregations within their
bounds, but the result was not, by any means, adequate to the exi-
gency ; in consequence of which, in the next following year, the plan
of sending a commission abroad was resumed by the Synod, and
Messrs. Gilbert Tennent and Samuel Davies were designated to this
service.

The necessary preparations for the voyage having been made, these
two brethren embarked in a vessel, bound to London, on the 7th of
November, 1753, and were safely landed at the place of their destina-
tion on the 25th of December following. The two kept together until
they had reached Edinburg ; but there they parted, — Mr. Tennent to
VOL. I.— 3

18 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

visit Glasgow, and then pass into Ireland ; — Mr. Davies to visit the
principal cities and towns in England. After having accomplished
the object of their mission, they met again in London, in October,
1754. The next month Mr. Tennent sailed for Philadelphia, and Mr.
Davies for York, in Virginia, where, after a protracted and unpleasant
voyage, he arrived on the 13th of February, 1755.

This mission was probably the most successful and the most impor-
tant ever made from the colonies to the mother country. A much
larger sum of money was contributed than the most sanguine had ven-
tured to hope for ; in addition to which a large measure of public
sympathy was awakened in behalf of the Dissenters in Virginia, as
well as a greatly increased interest for the Christianizing of the Ame-
rican Indians. Mr. Davies every where commanded the highest
respect, not only for his great powers of pulpit eloquence, in which he
was justly considered as well nigh unrivalled, but for his fine social
qualities and eminent Christian character. His manuscript journal,
which he kept during this period, was preserved in two volumes,
which, by some means, were separated from each other, the one having
found its place of deposit in the library of the Union Theological
Seminary, in Virginia, the other in the library of Princeton College, —
both, however, have been published by Dr. Foot, in his " Sketches of
Virginia." From this journal it appears that Mr. Davies made the
acquaintance of a large part of the more distinguished of the English
Dissenting clergy, and his observations upon them — of course the
result of a brief acquaintance — are in remarkable harmony with the
united testimony of tradition and history concerning them.

The following anecdote in connection with President Davies' visit to
London has appeared in a memoir of his life, prefixed to one of the
editions of his sermons, and has been republished in several news-
papers : —

So great was his fame in London as an eloquent preacher, that
certain noblemen who had heard him, spoke of him as one of the won-
ders of the day, in the presence of George II. ; whereupon the King
directed his chaplain to invite Davis to preach in his chapel. The
invitation being given and accepted, the American minister, in due
time appeared and preached before a splendid audience, consisting of
the royal family and many of the nobility. While the sermon was
being delivered, the preacher observed the King frequently whisper-

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 19

ing to those who sat near him, causing them to smile. Davies, by way
of rebuking this irreverent behaviour, frowned and looked sternly
towards the King, and then proceeded with his discourse. The
offense was very soon repeated ; whereupon the American Dissenter
exclaimed, — " When the lion roars, all the beasts of the forest trem-
ble : when King Jesus speaks, the kings of the earth should keep
silent." The King bowed courteously, and remained silent till the
service was closed. It afterwards appeared that the apparent disre-
spect of the King was the result of his high admiration of the elo-
quence to which he was listening ; — that he was so much delighted
that he could not avoid expressing his high gratification to those who
were near him. The result was that the King sent for Davies to visit
him ; that they had several interesting interviews ; and that His
Majesty, as an evidence of his regard, made a liberal donation to the
college.

The Rev. Dr. Carnahan, late President of the College of New
Jersey, in a communication made to the New Jersey Historical Society,
in 1848, proves conclusively that this story must be apocryphal; first,
from the fact that in a most minute journal which Davies kept of this
tour, descending to the details of each day's experience, (which is still
extant,) there is no allusion to any one of the alleged facts which the
anecdote includes ; and secondly, from the fact that Dr. Gibbons and
Dr. Finley, and Mr. Bostwick, and all the other of his contemporaries
who have written concerning him, are entirely silent in respect to any
Buch occurrence — an omission which can hardly be supposed if so
striking an event had really taken place. The story is believed to
have been originated by an agent employed in the Southern States,
half a century ago, in selling an edition of Davies' sermons.

Mr. Davies, on his return to his people, found them and the whole
country in the midst of the most violent agitation, occasioned by the
French and Indian war. On the 10th of July, 1755, occurred Brad-
dock's remarkable defeat, when the brave young Colonel Washington
won for himself such imperishable laurels by saving the remnant of
the army ; and on the 20th of the same month, Mr. Davies preached
a sermon in Hanover, on the words — " And in that day did the Lord
God of hosts call to weeping, and to mourning, and to baldness, and
to girding with sackcloth ; and behold joy and gladness, slaying oxen
and killing sheep, eating flesh and drinking wine : let us eat and

20 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

drink, for to-morrow we shall die. (Isa. xxii. 12, 13, 14.)* In this ser-
mon he showed the highest type of patriotism in connection with the
most earnest and glowing piety, and called upon his hearers, in a strain
of fervid eloquence, from a regard to their interests as men, Britons,
and Christians, to make a noble stand against the cruel invasion.
Serious apprehensions were entertained that the negroes would become
the allies of the French and Indians, and Mr. Davies, whose influence
with the blacks was probably greater than that of any other person,
exerted himself to the utmost to prevent such a coalition. On the
17th of August of the same year, he preached another thrilling ser-
mon suited to the times, to the first volunteer company raised in Vir-
ginia, after Braddock's defeat, on 2 Samuel x. 12 : " Be of good
courage, and let us play the men for our people, and for the cities of our
God ; and the Lord do that which seemeth him good."t In a note to
this eloquent discourse occurs this remarkable, and, as it proved, truly
prophetic sentence — "I may point out to the public that heroic youth,
Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto
preserved in so signal a manner, for some important service." In
May, 1758, he preached another war sermon, on occasion of raising a
company of volunteers for Captain Meredith ; and the effect of the fol-
lowing passage is said to have been quite overwhelming : — " May I
not reasonably insist upon it that the company be made up this very
day before we leave this place. Methinks your King, your country,
nay, your own interests, command me ; and therefore I insist upon it.
Oh, for the all-pervading force of Demosthenes' oratory — but I recall
my wish, that I may correct it — oh, for the influence of the Lord of
armies, the God of battles, the Author of true courage and every
heroic virtue, to fire you into patriots and true soldiers this moment !
Ye young and hardy men, whose very faces seem to speak that God
and nature formed you for soldiers, who are free from the incumbrance
of families depending upon you for subsistence, and who are perhaps
but of little service to society while at home, may I not speak for you
and declare at your mouth — here we are, all ready to abandon our
ease, and rush into the glorious dangers of the field, in defence of our
country ? Ye that love your country, enlist ; for honour will follow
you in life or death in such a cause. You that love your religion,

* Sermon No. LXIX, in this edition of his works.
•}• Sermon No. LXI.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 21

enlist ; for your religion is in danger. Can Protestant Christianity
expect quarters from heathen savages and French papists ? Sure, in
such an alliance the powers of hell make a third party. Ye that love
your friends and relations, enlist ; lest ye see them enslaved and
butchered before your eyes." Such was the effect of the discourse
that, within a few minutes after its delivery, the company was made
up ; and even more offered their services than the captain was author-
ized to accept.*

But while Mr. Davies was so intensely interested for the cause of
his country, and stood ready to identify himself with every effort for
the vigorous prosecution of the war in defence of both their civil and
Christian rights, his zeal for the spiritual welfare of his own flock
never even seemed to wane — not only was he intent on preaching the
Gospel within his own immediate sphere, which was very extended,
but he was prompt to obey any summons that should carry him abroad,
and had more to do with the formation of new churches and the set-
tlement of ministers over them, than any other minister in the colony.
Indeed he was, by universal consent, the master spirit of the Presby-
terian Church throughout that region ; and probably in no part of the
Church was there another minister who combined so many elements
of a controlling and well-nigh irresistible influence.

But the time had now come when Mr. Davies was to be called to
another, and in some respects a more prominent position. On the 16th
of August, 1758, he was chosen to succeed Jonathan Edwards as Pre-
sident of the College of New Jersey. The question of his removal was
immediately submitted to the Presbytery of Hanover, and was decided
in the negative. A letter which he addressed to the Trustees of the
College, dated October 17, 1758, contains a decided answer to a
renewed request from Princeton, and shows an earnest wish to have

* It is impossible to tell how far the decisive action which was taken ~by
the House of Burgesses of Virginia at the commencement of the Revolu-
tion, may have been brought about by the influence of Mr. Davies' opinions
and eloquence in that colony. But it is well known that from the eleventh
to the twenty-second year of his age, Patrick Henry heard the patriotic
sermons of Davies delivered, and was his enthusiastic admirer. It has been
asserted, and it was very probably true, that Davies afforded the model and

kindled the fire of Henry's eloquence.

[EDITOR or THE BOARD.]

22 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

the whole subject dismissed. Though the communication is some-
what long, I think proper to introduce it in this connection, partly
because I am not aware that it has ever been published, and partly
because it brings out very impressively some of the prominent features
in Mr. Davies' character. The letter is as follows : —

GENTLEMEN : —

I encouraged myself and my friends in Virginia, that my last answer,
and the judgment of the Presbytery, would have been received as a
final decision ; and that my perplexities would have no more been
renewed by another application. And if, from my warm declaration
of my zeal "to serve the college," my candid friend, Mr. Smith,
inferred, and therefore reported to you, that I thought my way clear to
serve it in the character of a President, either the incautious and
vague form of expressing myself, or the generous partiality of his
friendship for me, tempted him to put a construction upon my words
that I by no means intended. I assure you, gentlemen, I do not
desire the compliment of repeated entreaties to accept the honour the
Trustees have been pleased to confer upon me ; but my hesitation, my
delays and anxious inquiries, have been entirely owing to my sincere
desire to discover my duty, and secure the approbation of my con-
science in accepting or rejecting the proposal : and in this view, I hope
the Trustees will excuse, or at least forgive me the trouble I have
involuntarily occasioned them, which affords me more concern, I dare
say, than to any of them.

Upon Mr. Halsey's unexpected arrival, I sent to consult those mem-
bers of Presbytery who had formed the former judgment ; and I also
made such inquiries of him, as I thought necessary to give me a fair
and full view of the matter, and constrained him to be unreserved and
open-hearted. I have already received the answer of two leading
members of the Presbytery ; and as I expect that those of the rest
will generally coincide with theirs ; and as I am called abroad and
may not have leisure to write, when that comes to hand ; I venture to
send you my final answer now, founded upon the best intelligence I
can receive. And as I have honestly endeavoured to discover my duty,
with all the impartiality and integrity I am capable of, I am encour-
aged to hope, a gracious God will not suffer me to mistake it ; and
therefore my former anxieties are subsided, and my mind has recovered
that sacred calm which is the attendant of a full conviction.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 23

My final answer then is, that in. present circumstances, my way is
not at all clear to accept the presidentship, or even to serve in that
character pro tcmpore till the Synod ; and therefore I desire the Trus-
tees would proceed to the choice of another, and have no more depend-
ence upon me.

As this answer, gentlemen, may be somewhat unexpected, and as I
give it in more decisive terms than I could safely use in my former,
you may justly demand the reasons of it ; and they are such as these.

Though, to my great surprise, my reverend brethren and other friends
in Virginia, have no objections to the offer upon the footing of my
insufficiency, which is one of my chief objections ; yet, they apprehend
I am of so much importance in my present situation, to the interests
of religion, and the liberty and honour of the Dissenters of this colony,
so exposed to the oppression of high-flyers, by the influence I have
somehow acquired with the great men here, and my correspondence
in Great Britain, that I can by no means be spared from Virginia ;
and that the injury would be so great and irreparable here, that, if the
College should even suffer by my non-compliance, it would be the lesser
evil, and consequently rather to be chosen. It is with an ill grace
these extravagant panegyrics upon myself come from my pen : but I
transcribe them in the most modest language from their letters ; and I
cannot avoid it if I would give you a full view of the case.

But here 1 must be so impartial as to add, that the Presbytery
would acquiesce in my judgment, even if I should determine to remove,
and have desired me to judge for myself. But I put more confidence
in their judgment than my own, in so dubious a case ; and can by
no means venture in opposition to it, though they give it with dif-
fidence and hesitation.

Another reason of my refusal is, that the vote for me was not at all
unanimous, and carried but by a very small majority ; that sundry of
the Trustees, who are good judges of merit, and well acquainted with
me, look upon me as unfit for the place ; and I am not capable of such
gross self-flattery, as to dissent from them in this ; nor do I make the
estimate they form of me, the standard of their worth or of my affec-
tion for them. I cannot bear the thought of thrusting myself in,
though by a fair and honourable election, in opposition to gentlemen
whom I do highly revere, and cannot bear to offend : and as I am a
lover of peace, and never was formed to be a fire-brand of contention,

24 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIE8.

I cannot offer such violence to myself, nor do the college so great an
injury, as to enter as an incendiary, to cast it into a conflagration,
which could not be easily quenched, and which would soon melt away
my tender, unmanly spirit. I have good authority, I think, for this,
from speaking circumstances, or authentic information ; but I beg you
would not suspect Mr. Halsey has betrayed his trust ; or that any one
of the Trustees has wrote to dissuade me. Mr. Halsey has acquitted
himself like an honest man ; and the college is obliged to him for a
faithful, artless representation. Not one of the Trustees that voted
against me has either directly or indirectly, as far as I know, wrote to
me, or any one in Virginia, to throw any obstacle in my way. But I
have credible, well-informed correspondents, that do not belong to your
honourable Board, in whom I can place the utmost confidence, and
when the case is so intricate, that I have hardly any judgment of my
own, I think it my duty even implicitly to act upon that of others.

But the principal reason of my refusal is, that as, from a very
thorough and long acquaintance with my worthy rival, Mr. Finley, I
believe, in my conscience, without the least ostentatious affectation of
humility, he is incomparably better qualified for the place than I am,
or ever expect to be, I cannot bear the thought of thrusting myself
into the seat, to the exclusion of him who, I am persuaded, will fill it
with dignity, and to the universal satisfaction of all candid judges of
real worth, when fully tried and known. And whenever I have had
any thought of accepting the invitation, it has always been upon the
supposition that the Trustees to whom I have no right or inclination
to prescribe, would not in general, think as I do ; and, consequently
that he would not be chosen, even if I should refuse. But as it now
appears to me, there is at least a great probability that Mr. Finley
will be chosen, I think myself bound in conscience to give up my
election in his favour ; and with all the force of persuasion and entreaty
I can use to transfer to him whatever interest I may have obtained
among the Trustees by the generous excess of their charity.

If my officiating in the college as Vice President for some months
would be of any service to it, I would cheerfully comply, notwith-
standing the mutual bereavement I and my helpless family would suf-
fer by it. But since the way is not clear for my accepting the place
as stated President ; since the judgment of the Presbytery lies in my
way ; and it is not unlikely the Synod would confirm their judgment;

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 25

I apprehend it would answer no 'Valuable end. But, on the other
hand, it might be productive of sundry bad consequences ; particu-
larly, it would keep the college still longer in an unsettled state ; and
tempt some to suspect I have an eager ambition to accept the place ;
and I could give no umbrage for such a prodigious mistake.

I may venture to refer you to my honest and learned friend, Mr.
Halsey, as well as to your former messenger, to attest the caution and
impartiality with which I have proceeded in the whole matter. And
could I communicate for a moment the sensations of my mind into
yours, you would never impute my refusal to the want of affectionate
zeal and concern for the College, or an ungrateful contempt or insensi-
bility of the immerited honour the Trustees have done me.

I beg you would make my most dutiful compliments acceptable to
His Excellency your Governor, for whom I have a very high venera-
tion as a patron of virtue, liberty, and learning. I congratulate you
and the College on the happiness of being under his administration,
and pray God long to continue the blessing.

I present my affectionate compliments also to the whole Board of
Trustees promiscuously, whether my electors or not. I am obliged to
the former for their friendship for me : and I must value the latter
for their better judgment in this instance, and the prevalence of public
spirit over private friendship.

With a heart full of gratitude and love to you in particular, I am,
gentlemen,

Your most obliged and most humble servant,

SAM'L DAVIES.

HANOVER, Oct. 18, 1758.

So deeply were the Trustees of the College impressed with the idea
that Mr. Davies was the man for the place above any other within
their reach, that notwithstanding the above letter, and the adverse
decision of Presbytery already rendered, they brought the subject
before the Synod of New York and Philadelphia, at its meeting in
May, 1759, earnestly requesting that he might be liberated from his
pastoral charge, with a view to being placed at the head of the College.
Though this application met with a strong remonstrance from his con-
gregation, so deeply was the Synod impressed with a sense of the im-
portance of the institution, and of his rare qualifications for the
presidential chair, that they reached the conclusion that the best inter-

VOL. I.—4

26 MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

ests of the church required that he should be transferred to Prince-
ton ; and, accordingly, his pastoral relation was dissolved. He
deferred to the judgment of Synod in the matter, and preached his fare-
well sermon on the 1st of July following, from 2 Cor. xiii. 11. " Finally,
brethren, farewell," &c. * In this sermon, while he expresses the
warmest regard for his people, and the deepest sorrow at the thought
of being separated from them, he details the circumstances which had
shut him up to the conviction that the providence of God favoured
his removal.

Mr. Davies immediately repaired to Princeton, and entered upon
his official duties on the 26th of July ; though he was not formally
inaugurated as President of the College until the 26th of September.
From the commencement of his labours here, it was not easy to fix a
limit to his zeal, or his efforts for promoting the best interests of the
College. And his success was what might have been expected from
his ability and his industry. The friends of the College, in both.
Europe and America, watched all his benevolent and efficient move-
ments in connection with the institution with the greatest interest ; not
doubting that, under his mild, judicious, energetic control, it was des-
tined to reach a much higher point of honourable usefulness than it
had done even under his illustrious predecessors.

But the bright hopes of his friends, of the College, and of the Church
at large, were destined to an early disappointment. On the first of
January, 1761, he preached a New Year's sermon in the college
chapel, from the words, — " This year thou shalt die ;" and on the 4th
of February following, his text was verified in its application to him-
self. He had taken a violent cold, for which he was bled on Satur-
day, though he was occupied during the day, in transcribing for the
press his sermon on the death of King George II. f On the Sabbath
following, he preached twice in the College chapel. On Monday morn-
ing, while sitting at the breakfast table, he was seized with chills, fol-
lowed by an inflammatory fever, affecting his brain. While his facul-
ties were continued to him, his mind was composed, and the future
evidently opened upon him in a field of glory ; and during the wan-
derings incident to his disease, he was constantly occupied in endeav-
ouring to devise plans for doing good. His death was every way

* Sermon No. LXXXII. in these volumes. f Sermon LX.

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 27

worthy of his life. An affectionate tribute was paid to his memory by
Dr. Finley, his successor, in a sermon preached on occasion of his
death, from Rom xiv. 7, 8, and printed by request of the Trustees of
the College.* The Rev. David Bostwick, of New York, one of Mr.
Davies' most intimate friends, had been intrusted by him with the
superintendence of the printing of the sermon on the death of George
II., and he accompanied it with a prefuce, not only commendatory of
the sermon, but highly eulogistic of the writer.f Dr. Thomas Gibbons,
of London, who had been for several years his correspondent, and who
made the selection of his sermons for publication, preached a comme-
morative sermon, which he published in connection with that of Dr.
Finley, in the first volume of the sermons of his deceased friend.J

The following is a list of President Davies' publications : — A Ser-
mon on Man's Primitive State, 1748. The State of Religion among
the Protestant Dissenters in Virginia, in a letter to the Rev. Joseph
Bellamy, 1751. A Sermon preached at the Installation of the Rev.
John Todd, 1752. Religion and Patriotism the Constituents of a
Good Soldier. A Sermon preached before a Company of Volunteers,
1755. Virginia's Danger and Remedy : two discourses occasioned by
the severe Drought, and the Defeat of General Braddock, 1756.
Letters showing the State of Religion in Virginia, particularly among
the Negroes, 1751-1757. A Sermon on " Little Children invited to
Jesus Christ, 1757. The Curse of Cowardice. A Sermon before
the militia of Virginia, 1758. A Valedictory Discourse to the Senior
Class in the College of New Jersey, 1760. A Sermon on the Death
of George II., 1761. He was also the author of several important
public documents, and of various hymns and other pieces of poetry,
some of which attracted great attention. A selection of his sermons,
in three volumes, including most of those which had been published in
his life-time, was given to the world shortly after his death ; and it may
be doubted whether any sermons in the English language have been
more widely read or more universally approved and admired.

President Davies, though his public life was all included within
the brief period of fourteen years, left a broader, deeper, more endur-
ing mark than almost any of his contemporaries in the ministry on

* Inserted in this volume.
| Inserted in this volume.
J Also in part published in this volume.

28

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES.

either side of the ocean. Of his personal appearance I find no authen-
tic record beyond the fact that he was of a somewhat plethoric habit ;
but his manners were highly graceful and polished, while yet they
were characterized by a beautiful simplicity. He had great compre-
hensiveness and vigour of intellect ; an exuberant but chaste ima-
gination ; a highly cultivated taste ; and a memory from which hardly
any thing ever escaped that was lodged in it. In his moral constitu-
tion also he was eminently favoured — he was naturally genial and
cordial ; full of kindness, sympathy and charity. And to crown all,
he was among the brightest models of Christian character — the work
of the Spirit in his heart had been most radical and thorough — his
religion, as it appeared in the outer life, was a most harmonious and
attractive development of all the Christian graces. There was no
service which he was not ready to undertake, no cross which he
accounted it a hardship to bear for the honour of his Master. While
he was steadfast to his own convictions of the truth, he was a fine
example of enlightened Catholicism, and welcomed cordially in Chris-
tian fellowship all in whom he could recognize the Master's image.

Being thus richly endowed both by nature and by grace, it were
to be expected that he would adorn every relation, and that his life
would be one of eminent usefulness. Accordingly, wherever he moved,
blessings seemed to hang upon his footsteps. In his general inter-
course with society, he was discreet and cautious, but was evidently
always upon the look-out for opportunities to benefit those with whom
he associated- He never took on self-righteousness or consequential
airs, and yet every one saw and felt that his most ordinary actions
were performed under the influence of the powers of the world to
come. In the pulpit, he possessed rare advantages in respect to the
style, the structure, and the delivery of his sermons. Though his
style, as it appears in most of his printed sermons, might seem to an
exact taste to be somewhat verbose, and sometimes even declamatory,
yet it is to be borne in mind that these discourses, with few exceptions,
were not designed for publication ; and being intended for the ear
rather than the eye, it may well be doubted whether the character-
istics alluded to should be considered as blemishes. The power of
his manner consisted in the melody and compass of his voice, in the
naturalness, and gracefulness, and dignity of his attitudes, and in the
fervour of his spirit, brightening his countenance and animating his

MEMOIR OF PRESIDENT DAVIES. 29

whole form. The staple of his .preaching was in the highest degree
evangelical — he seemed always to dwell within sight of the cross ;
and every discourse was redolent at once of tenderness and sublimity.
There are passages in some of his printed sermons, which for simple
exhibition of divine truth, and fervent power of appeal, are perhaps
unrivalled. Dr. John H. Livingston, the only man whom I ever
heard speak of President Davies' preaching, who had personal recollec-
tions of it, assured me that he was the most impressive and powerful
pulpit orator to whom he had ever listened ; and this is in accordance
with the recorded statements of others who have heard him, as well as
with his traditionary reputation. But his labour for the spiritual
interests of his fellow-men were far from being confined to the pulpit —
he was a most devoted pastor. Though he had so many congregations
to care for, and his charge was spread over so wide a territory, he had
his eye, as far as possible, upon the spiritual needs of all ; and none
ever wanted for suitable counsel, or consolation, or help, whom his
pastoral attentions could reach. And he never considered himself
as stepping aside from his path of duty as a Christian minister, in
enlisting vigorously in behalf of his country. In the day of her
peril he came up to her help, not as a party-politician, but as a self-
sacrificing Christian patriot ; and it was through his eloquent tongue
and pen that multitudes of the young men of Virginia were baptized
with a spirit of invincible courage. And last of all, during the brief
period that he had occupied the presidential chair at Princeton, he
proved himself fully worthy of the place — his kindly spirit, his urbane
manners, his inventive and comprehensive intellect, his overpowering
eloquence, his untiring industry, all contributed to give him an influ-
ence not only with the students, but with the Trustees, and all the
friends of the College, to which it was not easy to fix a limit. Through
his whole active life, he moved in a glorious sphere, and the lapse of a
century has left his memory as fragrant as ever.

THE

DISINTERESTED AND DEVOTED CHRISTIAN.

A SERMON, PKEACHED AT NASSAU-HALL, PRINCETON, MAY 28,
1761. OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE REV. SAMUEL DA-
VIES, A. M. LATE PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY.

BY SAMUEL FINLEY, D. D.,

MR. DAVIES' SUCCESSOR AS PRESIDENT OF THE SAID COLLEGE.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED SOME MEMOIRS OF MR. DAVIES, BY
ANOTHER HAND.

ROMANS xiv. 7, 8.

For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself, for
whether we live, we live unto the Lord ; or whether we die, we die
unto the Lord : whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's.

As the very dear and reverend man, whose premature and unex-
pected death, we, amongst thousands, this day lament, expressed his
desire, that, upon this mournful event, a sermon should be preached
from these words, he plainly intimated his expectation, that the au-
dience should be entertained, not with an ornamented funeral oration,
but with such an instructive discourse as the text itself naturally sug-
gests. The subject being his own choice, I cannot doubt but this
friendly audience will the more closely and seriously attend, as con-
ceiving him, though dead, yet speaking to them the solemn truths it
contains. For having been admitted into the full knowledge of his
religious principles, I may presume on speaking many of the senti-
ments he intended from this text, though not in his more sublime and
oratorial manner.

When I reflect on the truly Christian, generous, yet strict Catholi-
cism that distinguishes this whole chapter, and how deeply it was im-
printed on Mr. Davies' own spirit, and influenced the course of his

31

32 A FUNERAL SERMON

life, I am ready to conclude, that perhaps no text could be more aptly
chosen on the occasion. It expresses the very temper that should be
predominant in all, and which actually is so in every pious breast.

That we may apprehend the scope and genuine sense of the words,
it is necessary to observe, that warm debates at that time arose between
the Jewish and Gentile converts, about the difference of meats and
days established by the Mosaic law ; and, so sharp was the contention,
that they were mutually disposed to exclude each other from Chris-
tian communion. The Gentile being under no bias from the powerful
prejudices of education and custom, was sooner and easier convinced
of his freedom from that yoke of bondage, and despised the Jew as
weak to admiration, and scrupulous to a fault. The Jew, on the other
hand, persuaded that these ancient divine institutions were still obliga-
tory, censured and condemned the Gentile as inconscientious, and pro-
fanely regardless of God's awful authority.

The Apostle, in order to quell the growing strife, maturely deter-
mines that, though the Gentile held the right side of the question,
yet both parties were wrong as to their temper of mind, and the man-
ner in which they managed the controversy ; and that they laid an
undue stress on the matters of difference, and carried their censures
higher than the merits of the cause would at all justify. He there-
fore recommends moderation to both, and sets before them sufficient
reasons why they should judge of each other more charitably, since
they agreed in all those principal points that would justly denominate
them " the servants of the Lord." For if they would reckon it a bold
intrusion to call, before their tribunal, condemn, and punish another
man's servant, over whom they had no legal authority ; how much
more arrogant and presumptuous must it be so to treat a servant of
the Lord ; ver. 4.

Again, let them be so candid as to persuade themselves, that, unless
the contrary be evident, they who differ from them, mistaken or not,
are influenced by a conscientious regard to the divine glory, ver. 6.
This admitted, their personal censures will necessarily be milder, even
though their judgment of the points in debate continue unaltered ;
and this must be admitted, if they can charitably judge, that their re-
spective opponents are real Christians : for in all such the governing
principle is, " not to live to themselves, but to the Lord. For none
of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. For whether

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 33

we live, we live unto the Lord ; or whether we die, we die unto the
Lord : whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." Now,
if no pious person lives merely to please himself, we ought not to
judge that his aversion from, or attachment to certain meats and days,
arises only from a selfish humour : but, on the contrary, since his
whole life is governed by an honest regard to the will of God, it is
altogether credible that, in his diiferent conduct respecting meats and
days, he acts from the same principle ; for whatever is true of the
general, is also true of all the particulars contained under it. Sup-
pose a man to be a real Christian, you then suppose him to be of an
upright heart, of a tender conscience, and one who dares not to ne-
glect, nor live in contradiction to known duty. He makes it his main
business to please God, and shall we be implacably disgusted because
he does not rather endeavour to please us ? God forbid.

Thus, while our text affords a convincing argument for moderation
in judging of other Christians, who differ from us in circumstantials,
it teaches us what should be the principle and end of our life, and that
both negatively and positively. We may not live nor die to ourselves,
but to the Lord.

I. " We may not live to ourselves."

This proposition supposes, what is a demonstrable truth, that we are
not the absolute proprietors, and therefore have not the rightful dis-
posal of our lives. For since we could exert no kind of efficiency in
bringing ourselves from nothing into existence, we could not possibly
design ourselves for any end or purpose of our own. Hence it is evi-
dent, that, whose property soever we are, we belong not to ourselves ;
consequently, it is the highest indecency to behave as though we were
accountable to none other. As rationally may we claim self-existence
and independence. It will, therefore, be an eternal solecism in action
to aim chiefly at our own glory, seek only our own things, or pursue
most eagerly our own pleasures. Right reason itself peremptorily de-
nies that the dictates of our own minds are our supreme rule of con-
duct, or that our own will is our law ; much less may we subject our-
selves to the government of blind passions, or indulge irregular ap-
petites.

We are not at liberty, nor have we any authority, to employ either
the members of our bodies, or powers of our souls, at pleasure, as if
we had originally designed their use. Hence it will appear criminal,
VOL. I.— 5

34 A FUNERAL SERMON

on the one hand, to waste our time, or expend our strength in useless
exercises ; and, on the other, to allow an idle negligence in necessary
business. Our tongues themselves, those unruly members, must be
patient of restraint ; for it is the language only of haughty rebels to
say, " Our lips are our own, who is lord over us ?" Psalm xii. 4.
Our very thoughts are to be confined within prescribed limits, and all
our rational powers statedly exercised, not in merely curious and
amusing researches, but in matters the most useful and important.

It also follows, that the product of our activity, whatever is acquired
by the exertion of these powers, ought not to terminate in ourselves.
Are we in pursuit of learning, that ornament of human minds, it
should not be with a view only to shine more conspicuous, but that we
may serve our generation to better advantage. Has God blessed " the
hand of the diligent" with abundant riches ? We are not to consider
them as the means of gratifying vanity, or " fulfilling the desires of
the flesh, and of the mind ;" for we must il honour the Lord with our
substance." Prov. iii. 9. Has God clothed any of us with power ?
This is not a discharge from his service, nor a freedom from subjection
to his laws, but a stronger obligation to duty, as it gives us an oppor-
tunity of more extensive usefulness.

Finally, since we were not the authors of our lives, we can have no
right to take them away. We have no power to determine, either the
time or kind of death, any more than we can ward off, or suspend its
blow when commissioned to destroy. Therefore, amidst all the mise-
ries that can make life itself an insupportable burden, and all the
glorious prospects that can make us impatiently pant for dissolution,
it must be our determinate purpose, that " all the days of our ap-
pointed time, we will wait till our change come." Job xiv. 14.

As these particulars, examined by the strictest reason, will all ap-
pear to be immediate consequences from self-evident principles, and
must all be confessed by him, who acknowledges that " he is not his
own lord and master ;" it will follow as an evident truth, that the
evangelical duty of self-denial is founded on the everlasting reason of
things.

Reflecting farther on the preceding observations, they force upon us
the disagreeable conviction, that our whole race has revolted from
God, and risen up in rebellion against him. " The world evidently
lies in wickedness ;" for the allowed practice of men supposes princi-

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES.

35

pies, which, they themselves being judges, must confess to be palpably
false and absurd. They act as if they believed they were made for
themselves, and had no other business in life but the gratification of
their respective humours. One exerts all his powers, and spends all
his time in nothing else but endeavouring to amass heaps of worldly
treasure : another, by riotous living, disperses what had been collected
with anxious care and assiduous labour. Some live in malice and
envy, whose favourite employ is calumny and wrathful contentions, as
if they had been created for no other end but to be the pests of so-
ciety : others blaspheme the name of God, despise his authority, mock
at religion, and ridicule serious persons and things. One has no other
purpose in life but sport and merriment : another eats to gluttony, and
drinks to besottedness. Yet all these, and nameless ranks of other
daring offenders, would be ashamed in a Christian country to profess
it as their serious belief, that they were made by a most wise, holy,
and righteous God, preserved, blessed, and loaded with benefits every
day, on purpose that they " might work all these abominations," or, in
order to live just as they do.

If, then, it is confessedly impious and unreasonable to live to our-
selves, it necessarily follows that we are the property of another, for it
will ever be " lawful for one to do what he will with his own." And
whose can we be but his who gave us existence ? Or, if ties of grati-
tude can more powerfully influence ingenuous minds than even those
of nature, who can so justly claim us as he, who, as we hope, " loved
us and washed us from our sins in his own blood ?" Rev. i. 5. This
leads me to observe,

II. That we should " live and die to the Lord." This can admit
of no debate ; for if our Maker and Redeemer be our rightful owner,
then whatever we are, or have, or can do, must be for him. Being
his servants, we must " shew all good fidelity" in his business. The
talents with which he has entrusted us, more or fewer, or of whatever
kind, may not be returned without improvement ; for, as is fit and
proper, he " receives his own with usury." Matt. xxv. 27. He is our
King, whose prerogative it is to direct our course of action, and pro-
pose the end at which we are to aim ; to " mete out the bounds of our
habitation," and carve our portion ; and it becomes us to give the most
ready and cheerful obedience to his commands, and submit to all his
disposals.

36 A FUNERAL SERMON

Our living thus to the Lord plainly supposes our being sensible of
our entire dependence on him, and that we devote ourselves to his
service. We must " present our bodies a living sacrifice," Rom. xii. 1,
without reserve or hesitation ; and " avouch the Lord to be our God,
to walk in his ways, and to keep his statutes, and his commandments,
and his judgments, and to hearken to his voice." Deut. xxvi. 17.
We bind ourselves to him in a firm covenant, not for a limited term of
months and years, but for ever and ever, and acquiesce in Him as our
chief good.

The solemnity of such an infinitely important transaction between
the glorious majesty of heaven, and such mean creatures as we, who
are " but dust and ashes," cannot but strike us with reverential awe.
And what will make it yet more humbling is the consideration of our
guilt. We not only as creatures take upon us to speak unto the Lord
our Maker, but as criminals approach to the seat of our offended and
most righteous Judge. Dare we then trifle, and not rather be most
serious and deliberate ? Reflecting that we are in the presence of
the heart-searching God will naturally make us watchful over every
thought and motion of our spirits, and engage us to the greatest sin-
cerity in surrendering to him our all. We will give him our hearts
themselves ; keep nothing back ; nor except against any terms he shall
please to propose, but yield at discretion.

On this occasion a consciousness of our having revolted from him,
neglected his service, purloined his goods, and, in every respect, be-
haved most ungratefully and undutifully, will affect us with the most
genuine sorrow. Therefore, when, repentant we return to him, we
shall, covered with shame, approach with the Prodigal's self-abasing
confession, " Father ! I have sinned against heaven, and before thee,
and am no more worthy to be called thy son." Luke xv. 18, 19. He
will " surely hear us bemoaning ourselves, like Ephraim," that we have
too long wrought the will of the flesh, and suffered other usurping
lords to have dominion over us ; but now we humbly beg forgiveness,
his gracious acceptance of our persons, and admission into his family,
should it be only on trial, " as hired servants."

But though our sins have made us vile, and the view of their odious
nature makes us " loathe ourselves in our own sight," yet a conviction
of the free grace and mercy of God in Christ will comfort and en-
courage our dejected and diffident hearts. The cords of love will

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 37

draw us nearer and nearer, until we shall assume an humble "boldness,
to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus." Heb. x. 19. Sacred love,
and a grateful sense of the unmerited favours of our God will now
dispose us to, and animate us in the performance of every duty. Re-
ligion will be our chosen course, and the commandments of God will
be so far from being burdensome to us, that we shall rejoice in them,
and delight in doing the things that please him. Our whole time
will be consecrated to his service : no part of it can be spared for
fleshly indulgences, or sinful pleasures, but will be employed either in
some positive duty, or in preparation for it in the proper season.

This religious bent of mind will manifest itself in all our conduct, and
give even common actions a different direction. If we attend our or-
dinary callings, we shall be active and diligent, not in order to gratify
an earthly temper, but from an obediential regard to supreme authority.
When our spirits flag through intense application to business, and re-
creation becomes necessary, our very diversions will be considered as
our duty, and so as a branch of our religion : and as they will always be
innocent in their nature, so they will be no otherwise regarded than
as means to fit us for the repetition of our work. If our friends or
country demand our service, we shall not give way to selfishness and
indolence, but, as lovers of God and men, generously exert ourselves
for the common good. Thus will our whole life be religion, upon such
a sincere, entire, and affectionate dedication of ourselves to the Lord.
And such as is our course so will be its end. When the date of time
is concluded we shall also " die to the Lord." This in general imports
our living under the rational, affecting impression of our dissolution,
and appearing before God, and our constant endeavours after actual
preparation to enjoy him for ever. Then, upon the approach of death,
we shall confidently " commit our spirits into his hands," recommend
his ways to survivors, and glorify him with our dying breath.

But, on the other hand, if our lives are not thus consecrated to our
God, we cannot be supposed to perform any duty in an acceptable
manner, as the requisite principle and end are wanting. He, to whom
the secret springs of action are all obvious, will not, cannot accept
pretended services ; nor be pleased with the " blind and the lame for
sacrifice," when the best are esteemed too good for him. To compli-
ment him with our lips, when we refuse to give him our hearts, will
be judged similar to the conduct of those, who " bowed the knee in

38 A FUNERAL SERMON

derision," and in derision said, " Hail ! King of the Jews !" He,
" with whom we have to do," cannot be deceived, nor will be mocked.
He requires " Truth in the inward parts," which cannot subsist with-
out an honest and upright design to serve him all the days of our
lives.

Now to live wholly to the Lord, will appear to be our reasonable
service, if we consider,

1. That " such a life is most worthy of rational and immortal
creatures." From the powers and faculties given us it may na-
turally be concluded that we are created for some very important
purpose ; but what can be so important, or bear so just a corres-
pondence to our capacities, as to live to the glory of our great Creator?
This being our ultimate end, to which we refer all our actions, and
perform each of them in such a manner as may best answer it, will
influence our hearts, and frame our whole conversation agreeable to
the divine approving will. And what can so ennoble the soul as con-
formity to the pattern of perfection ? But to neglect this, and chiefly
regard our temporal affairs, would be infinitely unworthy of beings
capable of the highest pursuits, and formed for immortality. Why
should we have been " wiser than the beasts of the field, or the fowls
of heaven," if we are to have no sublimer aims than they? In a word,
we could never vindicate the wisdom of God in our formation, if he
intended us for meaner things than those for which we are qualified.
Therefore,

2. Such a life is most worthy of God our Maker. Nothing can
appear more decent and proper, than that he who is the beginning,
should also be the end ; that as all are of him, all should be to him.
And if his glory be the most excellent thing, and he the most perfect
being, it will necessarily follow, that he cannot ultimately design what
is less excellent. Therefore the Scripture speaks agreeable to ever-
lasting truth, when it asserts, that, " he made all things ;" and,
that "for his pleasure they are, and were created." Rev. iv. 11.
And can it be rationally supposed, that he allows us, whom he made
for his own glory, to act for a different or opposite end ? It cannot.
We must therefore peremptorily affirm, that he cannot, in consistency
with his perfections, require less, than that " whether we eat or drink,
or whatsoever we do, we should do all to his glory." 1 Cor. x. 31. And
this he does require, not because he needs our service, or can be

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 39

happier, or more glorious in himself by our praises, but because it
is fit and right, and results as our duty from the eternal reason of
things.

3. Such a life is our own happiness : for, acting as prescribed, we
move in our proper sphere, and tend to our native centre. We live
as near the fountain of blessedness as our present state can admit, and
nothing can be so animating as the glorious and blissful prospects our
course affords. Our hearts, being fixed on the chief good, are at rest,
and no more tortured with anxious hesitation, and uneasy suspense,
as to what we shall choose for our portion, nor do our desires wander
in quest of a more suitable object. We can wish for no more but the
full enjoyment of God, whom we "serve with our spirits;" whose
" peace, that passeth all understanding, rules in our hearts ;" and
for whose glory we hope, secure from confounding disappointment in
the day of our Lord.

Now methinks every attentive hearer prevents my improvement of
the subject, being ready, of his own accord to make such reflections
as these. How serene and placid is the life, and how triumphant
must be the death, of a true Christian ! How reasonable a service do
we perform, when we consecrate ourselves to the Lord, and receive
him, freely offering himself to be our portion, our father, and our
friend! None can plausibly urge, that some things unfit, or detri-
mental, are required. None can pretend a conscientious scruple about
complying with the proposal, nor dare any, however secretly reluctant,
openly avow their dissent. Every mouth is stopped, and all acknow-
ledge their obligation to this plain duty. What then should hinder
the unanimous agreement, of this whole assembly to so advantageous
an overture ? Why may we not join ourselves, this day, to the Lord
in an everlasting covenant ? Would it not seem uncharitable to sup-
pose, that any one in this Christian audience rejects a proposal so in-
finitely just and kind ? How pleasing is the very imagination of an
universal concurrence ! Not only would each of our hearts who are
here present exult, but unnumbered hosts of angels, and all " the
spirits of just men made perfect" would rejoice.

Since therefore all things that pertain to our present or future hap-
piness, conspire to urge this point, let us with one accord, in the most
affectionate and reverent manner, approach the throne of our august
Sovereign, and cheerfully resign ourselves to him for ever; spend our

40 A FUNERAL SERMON

lives in his service, and expect his compensating approbation at our
end.

In some such strain, but more diffusive and sublime, would our
reverend and dear deceased friend have addressed us on such a sub-
ject. We may imagine how fervent his desire was of " living to the
Lord" himself, and persuading others to the same course, when he
fixed on this for the subject of his funeral sermon. Now, as it is
generally agreed that example has the most powerful influence, per-
haps a few sketches of his own life and character may best recom-
mend the preceding discourse, as they will prove the life described
to be practicable. And though he on whom this talk is devolved owns
himself inferior to it, yet he is encouraged to undertake it, from a per-
suasion that a simple and unornamented narrative of what he knows,
either personally or by certain information, concerning President Da-
vies, will set him in a very agreeable point of light. He is now dis-
interested in all the praises and censures of mortals, and can neither
receive benefit, or suffer detriment by them ; but his example may
profit the living, as it tends to excite a laudable emulation ; and some
brief hints of the dispensations of divine providence towards him may
not be without very useful instruction.

He was an only son, and, which is more, was a son of prayers and
vows ; was given in answer to fervent supplications, and, in gratitude,
wholly devoted to God from the womb by his eminently pious mother,
and named Samuel, on the like occasion as the ancient Prophet.*
The event proved, that God accepted the consecrated boy, took him
under his special care, furnished him for, and employed him in the
service of his church, prospered his labours with remarkable success,
and not only blessed him, but made him a blessing.

The first twelve years of his life were wasted in the most entire ne-
gligence of God and religion, which he often afterwards bitterly la-
mented, as having too " long wrought the will of the flesh." But

*The attachment always existing between Davies and his mother was a
remarkably strong and holy one.

When his body was in the coffin, she gazed on it attentively and then
exclaimed, " There is the son of my prayers and my hopes, my only son,
my only earthly supporter, but there is the will of God, and I am satisfied !"

[EDITOR OF THE BOARD.]

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 41

about that time the God to whom he was dedicated by his word and
Spirit awakened him to solemn thoughtfulness and anxious concern
about his eternal state. He then saw sufficient reason to dread all the
direful effects of divine displeasure against sin. And so deeply im-
printed was the rational sense of his danger, as to make him habitually
uneasy and restless, until he might obtain satisfying scriptural evi-
dence of his interest in the forgiving love of God.

While thus exercised, he clearly saw the absolute necessity and
certain reality of the gospel plan of salvation, and what abundant and
suitable provision it makes for all the wants of a sinner. No other
solid ground of hope, or unfailing source of comfort could he find, be-
sides the merits and righteousness of him, " whom God hath set forth
to be a propitiation for sin, through faith in his blood." Rom. iii.
25. On this righteousness he was enabled confidently to depend;
by this blood his conscience was purged from guilt ; and " be-
lieving, he rejoiced with joy unspeakable, and full of glory." 1
Pet. i. 8. Yet he was afterwards exercised with many perplexing
doubts for a long season, but at length, after years of impartial re-
peated self-examination, he attained to a settled confidence of his in-
terest in redeeming grace, which he retained to the end.

A diary, which he kept in the first years of his religious life, and
continued to keep as long as his leisure would permit, clearly shows
how intensely his mind was set on heavenly things ; how observant he
was of the temper of his heart ; and how watchful over all his
thoughts, words and actions. Did any censure his foibles, or juvenile
indiscretions ? They would hare done it compassionately, had they
known how severely he censured them himself. The tribunal daily
erected in his own bosom was more critical in scrutinizing, and more
impartial and severe in passing sentence, than either his friends or
enemies could be.

His love to God, and tender concern for perishing sinners, excited
his eager desire of being in a situation to serve mankind to the best
advantage. With this view he engaged in the pursuit of learning, in
which, amidst many obvious inconveniences, he made surprising pro-
gress, and, sooner than could have been expected, was found compe-
tently qualified for the ministerial office. He passed the usual pre-
vious trials with uncommon approbation ; having exceeded the raised
expectations of his most intimate friends and admirers.
VOL. I.— 6

42 A FUNERAL SERMON

When he was licensed to preach the gospel, he zealously declared
the counsel of God, the truth and importance of which he knew by
happy experience ; and did it in such a manner as excited the earnest
desires of every vacant congregation, where he was known, to obtain
the happiness of his stated ministrations. But, far from gratifying
his natural inclination to the society of his friends, or consulting
his ease, moved by conscience of duty, he undertook the self-denying
charge of a dissenting congregation in Virginia, separated from all his
brethren, and exposed to the censure and resentment of many. But
the more he was known in those parts, the more were prejudices re-
moved ; contempt was gradually turned into reverence ; the number
of his enemies daily diminished, and his friends increased.

Nor did he there labour in vain, or " spend his strength for nought."
The " Lord, who counted him faithful, putting him into the ministry,"
succeeded his faithful endeavours, so that a great number, both of
whites and blacks, were hopefully converted to the living God ; for
the proof of this, I must refer you to his own narrative, sent to the
Kev. Mr. Bellamy, and by him published, and to his letters to some
gentlemen of the Society in London, for propagating religion among
the poor.

As to his natural genius, it was strong and masculine. His under-
standing was clear; his memory retentive ; his invention quick; his
imagination lively and florid ; his thoughts sublime ; and his language
elegant, strong, and expressive.* And I cannot but presume that true
and candid critics will readily discern a great degree of true poetic
fire, style, and imagery, in his poetical compositions ; and will grant
that he was capable to have shone in that way, had his leisure permit-
ted the due cultivation of his natural talent.

His appearance in company was manly and graceful ; his behaviour
genteel, not ceremonious; grave, yet pleasant; and solid, but sprightly
too. In a word, he was an open, conversable, and entertaining com-
panion, a polite gentleman, and devout Christian, at once.

* But with all his genius, Mr. Davies dreaded to preach without careful
preparation. He declared that every discourse of his which he thought
worthy of the name of a sermon, cost him four days of hard study in its
preparation. When on one occasion urged to preach extemporaneously, he
replied, " It is a dreadful thing to talk nonsense in the name of the Lord."

[EDITOB OF THE BOARD.]

OX THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 43

In the sacred desk, zeal for God, and love to men, animated his
addresses, and made them tender, solemn, pungent, and persuasive ;
while at the same time they were ingenious, accurate, and oratorial.
A certain dignity of sentiment and style, a venerable presence, a
commanding voice, and emphatical delivery, concurred both to charm
his audience, and overawe them into silence and attention.

Nor was his influence confined to the pulpit. His comprehensive
mind could take under view the grand interests of his country and of
religion at once ; and these interests, as well as those of his friends,
he was ever ready zealously to serve. It is known what an active in-
strument he was in stirring up a patriot spirit, a spirit of courage and
resolution in Virginia, where he resided during the late barbarous
French and Indian ravages.

His natural temper was remarkably sweet and dispassionate ;* and
his heart was one of the tenderest towards the distressed. His sym-
pathetic soul could say, " Who is weak, and I am not weak ?" Ac-
cordingly his charitable disposition made him liberal to the poor, and
that often beyond his ability. He was eminently obliging to all, and
very sensible of favours conferred ; which he could receive without
servility, and manifest his grateful sense of them with proper dignity.

To his friend he was voluntarily transparent, and fully acted up to
the poet's advice :

Thy friend put in thy bosom : wear his eyes
Still in thy heart, that he may see what's there.

And perhaps none better understood the ingenuities and delicacies of
friendship, or had a higher relish for it, or was truer or more con-
stant in it, than he. He was not easily disgusted : his knowledge of
human nature in its present state, his candid heart, and enlarged soul,
both disposing and enabling him to make allowances for indiscretions,
which narrower and more selfish minds could not make. He readily
and easily forgave ofiences against himself, whilst none could be more

* The Kev. Dr. John Kodgers, one of his most intimate friends, in a let-
ter to me since his death, says, " I never saw him angry during several
years of unbounded intimacy, though I have repeatedly known him to have
been ungenerously treated."

44 A FUNERAL SERMON

careful to avoid offending others ; which, if he at any time inadvert-
ently did, he was forward and desirous to make the most ample satis-
faction.

He was amongst the first and brightest examples of filial piety, a
very indulgent parent, and humane master. As a husband he was
kind, tender, cordial, and respectful, with a fondness that was manly
and genuine. In a word, think what might rationally be expected, in
the present imperfect state, in a mature man, a Christian in minority,
a minister of Jesus of like passions with others, in a gentleman, com-
panion, and cordial friend, and you conceive of President Davies.

It would hardly be expected, that one so rigid with respect to his
own faith and practice, could be so generous and catholic in his senti-
ments to those who differed from him in both, as he was. He was
strict, not bigoted ; conscientious, not squeamishly scrupulous. His
clear and extensive knowledge of religion enabled him to discern
where the main stress should be laid, and to proportion his zeal to the
importance of things, too generous to be confined to the intersts of a
party as such. He considered the visible kingdom of Christ as ex-
tended beyond the boundaries of this or that particular denomination,
and never supposed that His declarative glory was wholly dependent
on the religious community which he most approved. Hence he
gloried more in being a Christian, than in being a Presbyterian,
though he was the latter from principle. His truly catholic address
to the established clergy of Virginia is a demonstration of the sincere
pleasure it would have given him, to have heard that " Christ was
preached," and substantial religion, common Christianity, promoted by
those who " walked not with him," and whom he judged in other
points to be mistaken. His benevolent heart could not be so soured,
nor his enlarged soul so contracted, as to value men from circum-
stantial distinctions, but according to their personal worth.

He sought truth for its own sake, and would profess his sentiments
with the undisguised openness of an honest Christian, and the inoffen-
sive boldness of a manly spirit : yet, without the least apparent diffi-
culty or hesitation, he would retract an opinion on full conviction of
its being a mistake. I have never known one, who appeared to lay
himself more fully open to the reception of truth, from whatever
quarter it came, than he ; for he judged the knowledge of truth only,
to be real learning, and that endeavouring to defend an error was but

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DAVIES. 45

labouring to be more ignorant. But, until fully convinced, he was be-
comingly tenacious of his opinion.

The unavoidable consciousness of native power made him bold and
enterprising. Yet the event proved that his boldness arose not from
a partial, groundless self-conceit, but from true self-knowledge. Upon
fair and candid trial, faithful and just to himself, he judged what he
could do ; and what he could, when called to it, he attempted ; and
what he attempted, he accomplished.

It may here be properly observed, that he was chosen by the Synod
of New York, at the instance of the trustees of New Jersey College,
as a fit person to accompany the Rev. Gilbert Tennent to Great
Britain and Ireland, in order to solicit benefactions for the said col-
lege. As this manifested the high opinion which both the Synod and
corporation entertained of his popular talents and superior abilities, so
his ready compliance to undertake that service, hazardous and difficult
in itself, and precarious in its consequences, which required him to
overlook his domestic connections, however tender and endearing,
manifested his resolution and self-denial. How well he was qualified
as a solicitor, is witnessed by the numerous and large benefactions he
received. His services, as was meet, were gratefully accepted by his
constituents ; and to the pious, generous, and public-spirited charity
of the friends of religion and learning in Great Britain, received on
that occasion, does the College of New Jersey, in a great degree, owe
its present flourishing condition.

As his light shone, his ability to fill the president's chair in this
college, then vacant, was not doubted by the honourable board of trus-
tees. He was accordingly chosen, and earnestly invited to accept the
charge of this society. Yet he once and again excused himself, not
being convinced that he was called in duty to leave his then important
province. But repeated application at length prevailed to make him
apprehend that it was the will of God he should accept the call ; yet,
lest he should mistake in so important a case, he withheld his express
consent, until the Reverend Synod of New York and Philadelphia
gave their opinion in favour of the college. This determined his du-
bious mind. He came, and undertook the weighty charge.

And what were the consequences ? Had his incessant labours in
travelling and preaching the Gospel, his disadvantageous situation, and
want of opportunity for improvement made some of his best friends

46 A FUNERAL SERMON

diffident of his capacity and acquirements for moving with honour in
this unaccustomed sphere? He agreeably disappointed their friendly
fears, and convinced them that strength of genius, joined to indus-
trious application, had surmounted all other disadvantages. Had any
such raised expectations as seemed hard to answer ? They were fully
satisfied : so that from being highly approved he came to be admired.

His manner of conducting the college did honour to himself, and
promoted its interests. Whatever alterations in the plans of educa-
tion he introduced were confessedly improvements on those of his pre-
decessors. Had I never had other means of intelligence, save only
my knowledge of the man, I should naturally have expected that all
his public appearances would have been conducted with spirit, ele-
gance, and decorum ; that his government would be mild and gentle,
tempered with wisdom and authority, and calculated to command re-
verence while it attracted love, and that his manner of teaching would
be agreeable and striking.

But I propose not these as mere conjectures. The learned tutors
of the college, the partners of his counsels and deliberations for its
good, and these young gentlemen, once his care and charge, who judged
themselves happy under his tuition, all know more than I shall speak.

You know the tenderness and condescension with which he treated
you ; the paternal care with which he watched over you ; the reluc-
tance with which he at any time inflicted the prescribed punishment
on a delinquent ; and how pleased he was to succeed in reforming any
abuse by private and easy methods. You felt yourselves voluntarily
confined by the restraints of love, and obliged to subjection, not from
slavish fear, but from principle and inclination. You have yet fresh
in memory his instructive lectures, and can tell with what ease he
communicated his sentiments, and impressed his ideas on your minds,
and the entertaining manner in which he would represent even a com-
mon thought.

But his persuasive voice you will hear no more. He is removed
far from mortals, has taken his serial flight, and left us to lament, that
" a great man has fallen in Israel !" He lived much in a little time ;
" he finished his course," performed sooner than many others his as-
signed task, and, in that view, might be said to have died mature.
He shone like a light set in a high place, that burns out and expires.

He went through every stage of honour and usefulness, compatible

ON THE DEATH OF MR. DALIES. 47

i

with his character as a Dissenting clergyman : and, while we flattered
our fond hopes of eminent services from him for many years to come,
the fatal blow was struck ; our pleasing prospects are all at an end,
and he is cut down like a tree that had yielded much fruit, and was
loaded with blossoms even in its fall.

This dispensation, how mysterious! how astonishing! nay, how dis-
couraging does it seem ! Why was he raised, by divine Providence,
in the prime of life, to so important a station, and, amidst useful la-
bours, whilst he was fast increasing in strength adapted to his busi-
ness, quickly snatched away ? This is a perplexing case ; and the
more so that it so soon succeeded the yet shorter continuance of the
venerable Edwards. Were they set in so conspicuous a point of view,
only that their imitable excellencies might be more observable ? or,
was Nassau Hall erected by divine Providence for this, among other
important purposes, that it might serve to adorn the latter end of some
eminent servants of the living God, itself being adorned by them ?
In this view, the short presidency of a Dickinson, a Burr, an Ed-
wards, and a Davies, instead of arguing the displeasure of the Al-
mighty, will evidence his peculiar favour to this institution ; which I
know was planned, and has been carried ou with the most pious, be-
nevolent, and generous designs. These designs God's goodness has
hitherto amazingly prospered amidst apparent frowns ; and, if we may
infer anything from what he has already done, it is an encouraging ex-
pectation that he will continue to bless this society, and make it an
honour and happiness to this venerable Board to have been engaged
in so noble and successful an undertaking.

Now one more shining orb is set on our world. Davies is departed,
and with him all that love, zeal, activity, and benevolence, for which
he was remarkable. This the church, and this the bereaved College
mourns. For this we hang our once cheerful harps and indulge in
plaintive strains. Yet we are not to lament as those who are hopeless,
but rather with humble confidence to " pray the Lord of the harvest,"
with whom is " the residue of the Spirit," that he would send forth
another Davies to assist our labour and forward his work.

Nor should the decease of useful labourers, the extinction of burning
and shining lights, only send us to the throne of grace for supplies,
but excite us to greater diligence and activity in our business, as we
have for the present the more to do. And, instead of being dispirited

48 A FUNERAL SERMON.

by the loss of such eminent assistants, we should be animated by their
example, and hope for the same divine aids that carried them through
all the duties and dangers of life with safety, success, and honour.

Finally, this dispensation should lessen our esteem of this transitory
disappointing world, and raise our affections to heaven, that place and
state of permanent blessedness. Thither ascends, as to its native
home, all the goodness that departs from earth ; and the more of our
pious friends go to glory, so many more secondary motives have
we to excite our desires of " departing and being with Christ ; which
is far better" than any state under the sun : for there, in addition to
superior felicity, we shall " come to the general assembly, and Church
of the First-born which are written in heaven, — and to the spirits of
just men made perfect." Heb. xii. 23. Amen.

AN APPENDIX.

BY ANOTHER HAND.

THE following facts, drawn up by a gentleman, who was Mr. Davies'
intimate friend, and lived in the same town with him, while he was
President of the College, were collected partly from Mr. Davies' private
papers, and partly from the gentleman's personal knowledge, and, as
they illustrate several things just hinted in the preceding discourse,
and contain some anecdotes not before mentioned, may be properly
subjoined to the narrative already given.

The Rev. Samuel Davies, late President of the College of New
Jersey, was born on the 3rd day of November, A. D., 1724, in the
county of Newcastle, in Delaware. His father was a planter, who
lived with great plainness and simplicity, and supported the character
of an honest and pious man to his death ; which happened about two
years ago. His mother, who was greatly distinguished for her emi-
nent piety, some time before the conception of this favourite only son,
earnestly desired such a blessing ; and as she then had only borne a
daughter, who was near five years old, she had special occasion for
the exercise of her faith, in waiting for the divine answer to her peti-
tion. In this situation she took example from the mother of the
prophet Samuel, and vowed a vow unto the Lord ; that if he would
indeed give her a man child, she would devote him to His service all
the days of his life.

It may well be supposed that the parents received this child as from
God, and that the mother especially, who had reason to look upon him
VOL. I.— 7 49

50 APPENDIX.

as a token of the divine favour, and an express answer to her prayers,
would, with the greatest tenderness, begin the rearing of this beloved
plant. As there was no school in the neighbourhood, she herself
taught him to read ; and, although he was very young, he is said to
have made such proficiency as surprised every person who heard it.

He continued at home with his parents till he was about ten years old ;
during which time he appears to have had no remarkable impressions
of a religious kind ; but behaving himself as is common for a sprightly,
towardly child, under the influence of pious example and instruction.
He was then sent to an English school, at some distance from his fa-
ther's, where he continued two years, and made great progress in his
learning ; but, for want of the pious instruction with which he was
favoured at home, he grew somewhat more careless of the things of
religion.

It appears, that about this time of life, careless as he was, he made
a practice of secret prayer, especially in the evening. The reasons
(as he tells in his diary) why he was so punctual in the evening
was, that " he feared lest he should perhaps die before morning."
What is farther observable in his prayers at this time is, that " he was
more ardent in his supplications for being introduced into the gospel
ministry, than for any other thing."

[It is here presumed that Dr. Finley's sermon, preached on occa-
sion of his death, by desire of the trustees, contains sufficient memo-
rials of his life, from the time in which it pleased God more deeply
to impress his mind with the important realities of another world,
until he was elected President of the College.]

It may perhaps not be amiss to mention that when he returned
home from his voyage to Great Britain, he entered again on his la-
borious and beloved task of preaching the gospel to his several con-
gregations; and continued in this work until the year 1759, when he
was elected President of the College of New Jersey, in the room of
the Rev. Jonathan Edwards. The College, before he came, had been
in an unhappy situation ; partly owing to the length of that melan-
choly period between the death of President Burr and his accession,
and partly to the evil dispositions and practices of a few members of
the society. President Burr died in September, 1757 ; and although
Mr. Edwards was elected a few days after, he did not take upon him-
self the government of the College till February, 1758 ; and about a

APPENDIX.

fortnight after took the small-pox, of

ing. Mr. Davies was not initiated

July, 1759. So that the College l

of a bereaved condition for almost

sures taken by President Davies soon si

so that in a few months a spirit of eniulatre^^Qfiamg and morality,

as had been usual, evidently characterized the students of Nassau

Hall.

While he continued president his labours were great, and his ap-
plication to study was necessarily more intense than that of his pre-
decessors. For he came to this seat of the Muses, when its learning,
by the eminent abilities of President Burr, was advanced to a very
considerable degree ; and he had just emerged from a sea of minis-
terial labour in various places, wherein a common genius would have
been able to have made but little improvement in academical learning.
Besides, the speedy passage he made through the course of his studies,
previous to his entering into the ministry, made his after application
the more necessary for so important and elevated a situation. He was
determined not to degrade his office, but to be in reality what his sta-
tion supposed him, and accordingly exerted himself to the utmost.
The labours of the day seemed to him rather an incentive to study
than to rest in the night ; for he commonly sat up till twelve o'clock,
and often later, although he rose by break of day. The success was
proportionable ; for by the mighty efforts of his great genius, and by
dint of industry, he left the College of New Jersey, at his death, in
as high a state of literary merit as it ever had been in since its first
institution.

It is a piece of justice due to his memory to remark, that the few
innovations he made in the academical exercises, were certainly im-
provements upon the plan of his predecessors. Among other things
the monthly orations he instituted deserve particular notice. In or-
der to give his pupils a taste for composition, and to form them for
public speaking, he directed the members of the senior class each to
choose his subject, and compose a popular harangue to be delivered
publicly in the College Hall before the masters and students, and as
many of the inhabitants of the town as chose to attend. When each
had written his discourse, he brought it to the president, who made
such observations and corrections as he judged proper ; and, after

52 APPENDIX.

their discourses were spoken, they severally attended him again for
his remarks on their delivery. About six of the young gentlemen
usually delivered their orations in the afternoon of the first Wednesday
in every month, to crowded audiences ; and it is hard to say, whether
the entertainment of the hearers, or the improvement of the students,
was the greater.

There is reason to believe, that the intense application with which
Mr. Davies attended to the duties of his office was one great cause of
his death. The habit of his body was plethoric : and it is not to be
doubted but that his health for some years had very much depended
upon the exercise of riding, to which he was necessarily obliged while
he lived in Virginia, though even then he had several severe fevers,
supposed to arise principally from his application to study in the in-
tervals of riding abroad. When he came to the College he scarcely
used any bodily exercise, save what was required in going from his
own house to Nassau Hall, which is a space about ten rods, five or six
times a day.

In the latter end of January, A. D. 1761, a bad cold seized him,
and for his relief he was bled. The same day he transcribed for the
press the sermon, which was soon after published, on the death of the
late King, and the day after preached twice in the College Hall ; by
all which the arm, in which he was bled, became much inflamed, and
increased his former indisposition. On the Monday morning after, at
breakfast, he was seized with a violent chilly fit, which was succeeded
by an inflammatory fever, and in ten days brought on the period of
his important life.

Although premonitions of death in the present state of the world
are seldom, if ever, given to mankind ; and they who are disposed to
interpret ordinary occurrences into such premonitions, when, by some-
thing similar in the event those occurrences would seem as if predic-
tive, generally discover their weakness ; yet the circumstances of the
death of an eminent person are commonly very acceptable to the
public, and for this reason it may not be amiss to mention an anecdote
which Mr. Davies more than once took notice of in his last sickness.

An intimate friend of his, a few days before the beginning of the
year in which he died, in conversation told him, that a sermon would
be expected from him on the new year's day; and, among other things,
happened to mention that the late President Burr, on the first day of

APPENDIX. 53

the year wherein he died, preached a sermon on Jer. xxviii. 16. "Thus
saith the Lord, This year thou shalt die ;" and after his death, the
people took occasion to say it was premonitory ; upon which Mr. Da-
vies observed, that " although it ought not to be viewed in that light,
yet it was very remarkable." When new year's day came, he preached ;
and the congregation were not a little surprised at his taking the same
text of Scripture. Upon his being taken with his last sickness, about
three weeks after, he soon adverted to this circumstance, and men-
tioned it as remarkable that he had been undesignedly led to preach,
as it were, his own funeral sermon.

It is much to be lamented that the violence of the disorder, of
which this excellent man died, deprived him of the regular exercise
of his reason the greater part of the time of his sickness, otherwise
the public would undoubtedly have been gratified with his remarks
on the views of an approaching eternity, and would have received an-
other evidence of the superior excellency and power of that religion,
which alone can support the soul, and make the otherwise gloomy
prospect of death cheerful. For the issues of this decisive period his
life had been eminently calculated from his youth. It abundantly
appears, that from twelve or fourteen years of age, he had continually
maintained the strictest watch over his thoughts and actions, and
daily lived under a deep sense of his own unworthiness, of the trans-
cendent excellency of the Christian religion, of the great importance
of a public spirit, and the necessity of exerting it in promoting the
general good. Even in his delirium his mind discovered the favourite
object of his concern, the prosperity of Christ's Church, and the good
of mankind. His bewildered brain was continually imagining, and
his faltering tongue expressing some expedient for these important
purposes. Alas ! for us, that so great a light could no longer continue
in this dark world !

A POKTION OF

'."•"'• TWO DISCOURSES,

PREACHED AT HABERDASHERS-HALL, LONDON, MARCH 29, A.D.
1761, OCCASIONED BY THE DECEASE OF THE

KEV. SAMUEL DAVIES, A. M.,

LATE PRESIDENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NASSAU HALL, IN NEW

JERSEY.

BY THOMAS GIBBONS, D.D.

EPHESIANS 1. 11.

Who worketh all things after the counsel of his own will.

THE last week gave me the awful assurance of the sudden and un-
expected death of that most excellent and amiable man and minister
of Jesus Christ, the Rev. Samuel Davies, President of the College of
Nassau Hall, in New Jersey, by a most moving and melting letter
from a gentleman of Philadelphia, an acquaintance of Mr. Davies',
and who well knew his worth, to a correspondent of the gentleman's
here in London.

A greater loss, all things considered, could not perhaps befal the
Church of God in the death of a single person. The God of nature
had endowed Mr. Davies with extraordinary talents. Perhaps in sub-
limity and strength of genius there were very few, if any, who sur-
passed him. To the brightest and richest intellects Mr. Davies had
superadded the improvements of science, and a large acquaintance with

55

56 THE OPERATIONS OF GOD SHOWN

books, and possibly, had he lived, there would have been scarcely a
man in our world a more accomplished divine, or a more eminent
scholar. His character in life was wonderfully accommodated both to
his natural and acquired abilities. He was President of New Jersey
College, in the discharge of which office there would have been a de-
mand for the exertion of his amazing talents, and the exhibition of
all his treasures of literature and knowledge. Thus, as he was a star
of the first magnitude, so he was placed in a situation where he might
have shone without any waste of his distinguished and supereminent
glories.

But what crowned all, or advanced his distinction as a man and a
scholar into the highest value and lustre, was, that his pious character
appeared not at all inferior to his great intellect and acquired accom-
plishments. Nay, (let me not be thought, for I intimately knew him,
to exceed the limits of truth in the ardour of my friendship) his pious
character as much surpassed all else that was remarkable in him, as
the sparkling eye in the countenance of a great genius does all the
other features of the face. If Mr. Davies' good sense and learning
were the pictures of silver, his graces and virtues were the apples of
gold.

Here let me stay awhile ; and, though I shall only give you a few
outlines of his piety and amiable disposition, yet let me be allowed to
present you with such a view of him as shall not only be sufficient to
demonstrate him to be the best of men and ministers, but as shall
leave room for you to conclude that great additions might be made to
his character by persons who had a longer acquaintance with him than
myself, and the collected testimonies of the friends who were favoured
with his intimate correspondence.

He informed me in one of his letters, for I was honoured with a
close intimacy with him several years, " That he was blessed with a
mother whom he might account, without filial vanity or partiality, one
of the most eminent saints he ever knew upon earth. And here,
says he, I cannot but mention to my friend an anecdote known but to
few, that is, that I am a son of prayer, like my name-sake Samuel the
prophet ; and my mother called me Samuel because, she said, I have
asked him of the Lord, 1 Sam. i. 20. This early dedication to God
has always been a strong inducement to me to devote myself to him
by my own personal act ; and the most important blessings of my life

TO BE THE OPERATIONS OF WISDOM. 57

I have looked upon as immediate- answers to the prayers of a pious
mother. But, alas ! what a degenerate plant am I ! How unworthy
of such a parent, and such a birth !"

From the accounts Mr. Davies gave of himself in the conversation
that passed between us when he was here in England, I learnt, as the
inference from related fact, that he must have been very assiduous in
his studies. When he was about entering the ministry, or had not
long entered upon it, if I remember right, he was judged to be in a
deep and irrecoverable consumption. Finding himself upon the bor-
ders of the grave, and without any hopes of recovery, he determined
to spend the little remains of an almost exhausted life, as he appre-
hended it, in endeavouring to advance his Master's glory in the good
of souls. Accordingly he removed from the place where he was, to
another about an hundred miles distance, that was then in want of a
minister. Here he laboured in season and out of season ; and, as he
told me, preached in the day, and had his hectic fever by night, and
that to such a degree as to be sometimes delirious, and to stand in
need of persons to sit up with him. Here G-od gave him some glo-
rious first-fruits of his ministry, for two instances of the conversion
of two gentlemen he related to me were very remarkable, and he had
the satisfaction, as he informed me, to find in the after accounts of
them, that there was good reason to believe that they were saints in-
deed ; their goodness being by no means " as the grass upon the
house tops, which withereth afore it groweth up, and wherewith the
mower filleth not his hand," Psal. cxxix. 6, 7, but yielding the fruits
meet for repentance, in an holy and well-ordered conversation.

Afterwards he settled in Virginia, a colony where profaneness and
immorality called aloud for his sacred labours. His patience and per-
severance, his magnanimity and piety, together with his powerful and
evangelical ministrations, were not without success. The wilderness
and the solitary places, in the course of his stay there, bloomed and
blossomed before him. His tract of preaching, if I remember right,
for some time was not less than sixty miles, and by what I have learnt,
though not from himself, he had but little of this world's goods to
repay his zealous and indefatigable labours ; but his reward, as he well
knew, was in heaven ; and he felt, I doubt not, the animated joy that
every negro slave, which under his ministration became the Lord's
freeman, would furnish an additional jewel to his eternal crown.
VOL. I.— 8

58 THE OPERATIONS OF GOD SHOWN

Upon the decease of that excellent man, the Rev. Jonathan Ed-
wards, President of the College of Nassau Hall, in New Jersey, Mr.
Davies writes me word, that Mr. Lockwood, in New England, a gen-
tleman of worthy character, was chosen to fill up the vacancy. " I
have not yet heard, says Mr. Davies, whether he has accepted the
place. The trustees were divided between him, another gentleman,
and myself, but I happily escaped." But so it was ordered by Mr.
Lockwood's not accepting the invitation, that Mr. Davies was after-
wards elected President of the College ; and what concern, and indeed
what consternation this choice gave him, his letters to me amply tes-
tify ; and I could particularly relate to you what views he had of
things, and what steps he took to determine what was his duty. At
last he accepted the call to his important office of presiding in the
College ; and tells me in a letter, dated June 6, 1759, " That the evi-
dence of his duty was so plain, that even his skeptical mind was satis-
fied ; and that his people saw the hand of Providence in it, and dared
not to oppose."

Here he was settled for about eighteen months ; and as he could
exercise his ministry as well as preside over the College, great
things might have been expected from that rare and remarkable union
there was in him of what was great and good ; and with pleasure I
have received the information from his friends how well he supported
and adorned his character, and what high expectations were formed as
to the benefit and blessing he was likely to prove to that seminary of
religion and learning. " His whole soul (says the letter that gives
the news of his death) was engaged for the good of the youth under
his care." And again, " Nassau Hall in tears, disconsolate, and re-
fusing to be comforted."

But, alas ! in the midst of his days, (little more than thirty-six
years of age) he was called away from this but opening scene of large
and extraordinary usefulness to the invisible world, the world of glory
and blessedness, never to sojourn in mortal clay, or to irradiate and
bless the church militant more. He is dead, he is departed — America
in groans proclaims her inexpressible loss, and we in Great Britain share
the distress, and echo groan for groan.

Thus ended the days on earth of this truly great and good
man ; having in his little circle of life shed more beams, and
done more service than many a languid and less illuminated soul,

TO BE THE OPERATIONS OF WISDOM. 59

even in a public sphere, in the revolution of sixty or fourscore
years.

Truly great and good I may style him without the suspicion of flat-
ter}', and without the flight of hyperbole. Let me call to your re-
membrance, as proofs of what I say, the excellent discourses he has
delivered in this pulpit, and the several sermons of his which have
been published, strong in manly sense, loaded with full ideas, rich
with evangelical truth, and animated with the most sacred fervour for
the good of souls. And to these evidences of the admirable spirit
that dwelt in him, let me add a few paragraphs from the many letters
with which, in the course of about nine years' correspondence, he has
favoured me.

Speaking in one of his letters concerning his children, he says, " I
am solicitous for them when I consider what a contagious world they
have entered into, and the innate infection of their natures. There
is nothing that can wound a parent's heart so deep, as the thought
that he should bring up children to dishonour his God here and be
miserable hereafter. I beg your prayers for mine, and you may ex-
pect a retaliation in the same kind."

In another letter he says, " We have now three sons and two daugh-
ters ; whose young minds as they open I am endeavouring to cultivate
with my own hand, unwilling to trust them to a stranger ; and I find
the business of education much more difficult than I expected. — My
dear little creatures sob and drop a tear now and then under my in-
structions, but I am not so happy as to see them under deep and last-
ing impressions of religion ; and this is the greatest grief they afford
me. Grace cannot be communicated by natural descent, and, if it
could, they would receive but little from me. I earnestly beg your
prayers for them."

In another letter, " I desire seriously to devote to God and my dear
country, all the labours of my head, my heart, my hand, and pen ; and
if he pleases to bless any of them, I hope I shall be thankful, and
wonder at his condescending grace. Oh, my dear brother ! could we
spend and be spent all our lives in painful, disinterested, indefatigable
service for God and the world, how serene and bright would it render
the swift approaching eve of life ! I am labouring to do a little to save
my country, and, which is of much more consequence, to save souls
from death, from that tremendous kind of death, which a soul can

60 THE OPERATIONS OF GOD SHOWN

die. I have but little success of late, but blessed be God, it surpasses
my expectation, and much more my desert. Some of my brethren
labour to better purpose. The pleasure of the Lord prospers in their
hands."

Another epistle tells me, " As for myself, I am just striving not to
live in vain. I entered the ministry with such a sense of my unfit-
ness for it, that I had no sanguine expectations of success. And a
condescending God (0, how condescending!) has made me much more
serviceable than I could hope. But, alas ! my brother, I have but
little, very little true religion. My advancements in holiness are ex-
tremely small ; I feel what I confess, and am sure it is true, and not
the rant of excessive or afiected humility. It is an easy thing to
make a noise in the world, to flourish and harangue, to dazzle the
crowd, and set them all agape, but deeply to imbibe the spirit of
Christianity, to maintain a secret walk with God, to be holy as he is
holy, this is the labour, this the work. I beg the assistance of your
prayers in so grand and important an enterprise. The difficulty of
the ministerial work seems to grow upon my hands. Perhaps once in
three or four months I preach in some measure as I could wish ; that
is, I preach as in the sight of God, and as if I were to step from the
pulpit to the supreme tribunal. I feel my subject. I melt into tears,
or I shudder with horror, when I denounce the terrors of the Lord.
I glow, I soar in sacred extacies, when the love of Jesus is my theme,
and, as Mr. Baxter was wont to express it, in lines more striking to
me than all the fine poetry in the world,

" I preach as if I ne'er should preach again ;
And as a dying man to dying men.

But, alas ! my spirits soon flag, my devotions languish, and my zeal
cools. It is really an afflictive thought that I serve so good a Master
with so much inconstancy ; but so it is, and my soul mourns upon that
account."

In another letter he says, " I am labouring to do a little good in the
world. But, alas ! I find I am of little use or importance. I have
many defects, but none gives me so much pain and mortifica-
tion as my slow progress in personal holiness. This is the grand
qualification of the office we sustain, as well as for that heaven we

TO BE THE OPERATIONS OF WISDOM. 61

hope for, and I am shocked at myself when I see how little I have of
it."

In another of his letters he acquaints me, " That he indeed feels an
union of hearts which cannot bear without pain the intervention of
the huge Atlantic, nor even the absence of a week. But our conde-
scending Lord, adds he, calls his ministers stars, and he knows best
in what part of the firmament of the church to fix them ; and (0 the
delightful thought!) they can never be out of the reach of his beams,
though they shine in different hemispheres with regard to each other.
This leads me, undesignedly, to a criticism on Jude 13, on which per-
haps an astronomer would be the best commentator. Wandering stars,
to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness for ever. Perhaps an
astronomical critic would observe that false teachers are represented as
planetary or wandering stars, that in their eccentricities run out into
an eternal aphelion from the Sun of Righteousness, beyond the system
which he warms, illuminates, and beatifies, and are constantly re-
ceding from the Fountain of light, life, and bliss, and therefore must
wander through the blackness of darkness for ever ; a darkness un-
pierced by one ray from the great Sun and Centre of the moral world
— blackness of darkness, an abstract predicated of an abstract. How
gloomy and strong the expression !"

Let me give you another quotation from his letters. " I am very
much pleased and affected, says he, with the subject of this week's
study, and next Lord's day's entertainment, namely, " A bruised reed
shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench." Such
a bruised reed at best am I ; a weak, oppressed, useless thing ; a stri-
dens stipula that can make no agreeable melody to entertain my great
Shepherd. Yet this bruised reed I have reason to hope he will not
break, but bind up and support. This shattered pipe of straw he will
not cast away, but repair and tune to join in the angelic concert on
high. I am at best but smoking flax ; a dying snuff in the candle-
stick of his church; a wick just put out in the lamp of his sanctuary.
The flame of divine love, sunk deep into the socket of a corrupt
heart, quivers, and breaks, and catches, and seems just expiring at
times. The devil and the world raise many storms to blow upon it.
And yet this smoking flax, where the least spark of that sacred pas-
sion still remains which renders it more susceptive of his love, as a
candle just put out but still smoking, is easily rekindled. This suiok-

62 THE OPERATIONS OF GOD SHOWN

ing flax he will not quench, but blow it to a flame, which shall shine
brighter and brighter till it mingles, with its kindred flames in the pure
element of love."

I shall conclude my extracts from his epistolary correspondence
with a part of a letter, dated

HANOVER, September, 12, 1757.

" MY EVER DEAR FRIEND : —

" I am just beginning to creep back from the valley of the shadow
of death, to which I made a very near approach a few days ago. I
was seized with a most violent fever, which came to a crisis in a week,
and now it is much abated, though I am still confined to my chamber.
In this shattered state my trembling hand can write but little to you,
and what I write will be languid and confused, like its author. But
as the Virginia fleet is about to sail, and I know not when I shall
have another opportunity, I cannot avoid writing something. I would
sit down on the grave's mouth, and talk awhile with my favourite
friend ; and from my situation you may foresee what subjects my
conversation will turn upon — death — eternity — the supreme tribunal.

" Blessed be my Masters's name, this disorder found me employed
in his service. It seized me in the pulpit, like a soldier wounded in
the field. This has been a busy summer with me. In about two
months I rode about five hundred miles, and preached about forty
sermons. This affords me some pleasure in the review. But, alas !
the mixture of sin and of many nameless imperfections that run
through and corrupt all my services, give me shame, sorrow, and mor-
tification. My fever made unusual ravages upon my understanding,
and rendered me frequently delirious, and always stupid. But, when
I had any little sense of things, I generally felt pretty calm and se-
rene, and death, that mighty terror, was disarmed. Indeed the
thought of leaving my dear family destitute, and my flock shepherd-
less, made me often start back and cling to life ; but in other respects
death appeared a kind of indifferency to me. Formerly I have wished
to live longer that I might be better prepared for heaven, but this
consideration had but very little weight with me, and that for a very
unusual reason, which was this. After long trial I found that this world
is a place so unfriendly to the growth of every thing divine and
heavenly, that I was afraid, if I should live longer, I should be no

TO BE THE OPERATIONS OF WISDOM. 63

better fitted for heaven than I am. Indeed I have hardly any hopes
of ever making any great attainments in holiness while in this world,
though I should be doomed to stay in it as long as Methuselah. I see
other Christians indeed around me make some progress, though they
go on with but a snail-like motion : but when I consider that I set
out about twelve years old, and what sanguine hopes I then had of my
future progress, and yet that I have been almost at a stand ever since,
I am quite discouraged. Oh, my good Master ! if I may dare to call
thee so, I am afraid I shall never serve thee much better on this side
the region of perfection. The thought grieves me ; it breaks my
heart, but I can hardly hope better. But if I have the least spark of
true piety in my breast, I shall not always labour under this complaint.
No, my Lord, I shall yet serve thee — serve thee through an immortal
duration — with the activity, the fervour, the perfection of the rapt
seraph that adores and burns. I very much suspect this desponding
view of the matter is wrong, and I do not mention it with approba-
tion, but only relate it as an unusual reason for my willingness to die,
which I never felt before, and which I could not suppress.

" In my sickness I found the unspeakable importance of a Medi-
ator in a religion for sinners. Oh ! I could have given you the word
of a dying man for it, that that Jesus whom you preach is indeed a
necessary, and an all-sufficient Saviour. Indeed he is the only sup-
port for a departing soul. None but Christ, none but Christ. Had I
as many good works as Abraham or Paul, I would not have dared to
build my hopes upon such a quicksand, but only on this firm, eternal
Rock.

" I am rising up, my brother, with a desire to recommend him bet-
ter to my fellow-sinners, than I have done. But, alas ! I hardly hope
to accomplish it. He has done a great deal more by me already than
I ever expected, and infinitely more than I deserved. But he never
intended me for great things. He has beings both of my own, and
of superior orders, that can perform him more worthy service. Oh !
if I might but untie the latchet of his shoes, or draw water for the
service of his sanctuary, it is enough for me. I am no angel, nor
would I murmur because I am not.

" My strength fails me, and I must give over. Pray for me — write
t0 me — love me living and dying, on earth and in heaven."

Judge you from these passages, written in the freedom of friend-

64 THE OPERATIONS OF GOD.

ship, and to one to whom he scrupled not to lay open the secrets of
his bosom, what a loss the Church has sustained, and how much our
world is impoverished by the death of Mr. Davies, in the vigour of
his days, and in the meridian of his usefulness !

Such a blow, such an uncommon and distressing blow has been
given in the death of Mr Davies. And now what shall we do ? to
what shall we recur, or to what quarter shall we look for help under
such an awful Providence ?

CHARACTER

OP

THE EEV. SAMUEL DAVIES.

BY THE REV. DAVID BOSTWICK, A. M.,

OF NEW YORK.

IT will doubtless be acknowledged on all hands, that a decent re-
spect, and a proportionable tribute of honour are due to the memory
of those deceased, whom the God of nature and grace had furnished
with every valuable endowment, and in his providence had advanced
to an extensive sphere of usefulness while they lived ; and that this
was eminently the case of my reverend friend and brother, no one,
who had the happiness of his personal acquaintance, or could rely on
the testimony of universal fame, will pretend to dispute.

I am, however, truly sensible that to exhibit a just portraiture of
President Davies, and draw the lineaments of his amiable character,
is a task too arduous for me, and would require a genius not inferior
to his own ; but however, the friendship with which he was pleased
to honour me, the esteem and veneration I had for him while he lived,
with the just sense I still entertain of his uncommon worth, unitedly
demand the present exertion of my feeble attempts.

Mr. Davies was a man of such uncommon furniture, both of gifts
and grace, and adorned with such an assemblage of amiable and useful
qualities, and each shining with such distinguished lustre, that it is
truly hard to say in which he most excelled, and equally hard to men-
tion one valuable or useful accomplishment in which he did not excel.

VOL. I.— 9 65

66 CHARACTER OF

A large and capacious understanding — a solid, unbiassed, and
well-regulated judgment — a quick apprehension — a genius truly
penetrating — a fruitful invention — an elegant taste, — were all
happily united in him, and constituted a real greatness of mind,
which never failed to strike every observer with an agreeable sur-
prise.

To this extraordinary natural capacity were added the improve-
ments of a learned and polite education, which, though in the early
years of his study it was embarrassed with many peculiar disadvan-
tages, yet by the strength of his genius, and dint of indefatigable ap-
plication, was cultivated to such a degree of elegance and refinement,
as attracted the notice and admiration of all the friends of science
wherever he was known.

And as the powers of his mind were enriched with every valuable
human accomplishment, so they were eminently improved by the in-
fluence and eflicacy of sanctifying grace ; in consequence of which
they were all sincerely devoted to the service of God, and the good of
mankind. In the early stages of his life, it pleased a Sovereign God
to call him effectually from his natural alienation to the knowledge
and love of himself, to take a powerful possession of his heart, and
seize all the faculties of his active and capacious soul for his service.
Upon finishing, therefore, the course of his preparatory studies, he en-
tered into the sacred employment of the gospel ministry, and solemnly
dedicated himself with all his superior talents to the work of the
sanctuary.

In the exercise of this sacred office, his fervent zeal and undis-
sembled piety, his popular talents and engaging methods of address,
soon acquired him a distinguished character, and general admiration.
Scarce was he known as a public preacher but he was sent, on the
earnest application of the people, to some of the distant settlements of
Virginia, where many of the inhabitants, in respect of religion, were
but a small remove from the darkness and ignorance of uncultivated
heathenism, and where the religion of Jesus, which he endeavoured
to propagate, had to encounter all the blindness, prejudice, and enmity
that are natural to the heart of the most depraved sinner. Yet under
all apparent disadvantages, his labours were attended with such remark-
able success, that all opposition quitted the unequal combat, and gave
way to the powerful energy of the divine Spirit, which was graciously

THE AUTHOR. 67

pleased by his ministry to add many new subjects to the spiritual
kingdom of our glorious Immanuel.

The work of the ministry was Mr. Davies' great delight ; and for
it he was admirably furnished with every valuable qualification of na-
ture and grace. Divinity was a favourite study, in which he made a
proficiency uncommon for his years, and yet he generally preferred
the most necessary and practical branches of it to the dark mazes of
endless controversy and intricate disputes ; aiming chiefly at the con-
version of sinners, and to change the hearts and lives of men by an
affecting representation of the plain, but most important, interesting
truths of the law and the gospel. His talent at composition, espe-
cially for the pulpit, was equaled by few, and perhaps exceeded by
none. His taste was judicious, elegant, and polite, and yet his dis-
courses were plain and pungent, peculiarly adapted to pierce the con-
science and affect the heart. His diction was surpassingly beautiful
and comprehensive, tending to make the most stupid hearer sensibly
feel, as well as clearly understand. Sublimity and elegance, plainness
and perspicuity, and all the force and energy that the language of
mortals could convey, were the ingredients of almost every composi-
tion. His manner of delivery, as to pronunciation, gesture, and modu-
lation of voice, seemed to be a perfect model of the most moving and
striking oratory.

Whenever he ascended the sacred desk, he seemed to have not
only the attention, but all the various passions of his auditory entirely
at his command. And as his personal appearance was august and
venerable, yet benevolent and mild, so he could speak with the most
commanding authority, or melting tenderness, according to the varia-
tion of his subject. With what majesty and grandeur, with what en-
ergy and striking solemnity, with what powerful and almost irresistible
eloquence would he illustrate the truths, and inculcate the duties of
Christianity ! Mount Sinai seemed to thunder from his lips, when he
denounced the tremendous curses of the law, and sounded the dread-
ful alarm to guilty, secure, impenitent sinners. The solemn scenes of
the last judgment seemed to rise in view, when he arraigned, tried,
and convicted self-deceivers and formal hypocrites. And how did the
balm of Grilead distil from his lips, when he exhibited a bleeding, dying
Saviour to sinful mortals, as a sovereign remedy for the wounded
heart, and anguished conscience ! In a word, whatever subject he

68 CHARACTER OF

undertook, persuasive eloquence dwelt upon his tongue ; and bis
audience was all attention. He spoke as on the borders of eternity,
and as viewing the glories and terrors of an unseen world, and con-
veyed the most grand and affecting ideas of these important realities ;
realities which he then firmly believed, and which he now sees in the
clearest light of intuitive demonstrations.

The unusual lustre with which he shone could not long be con-
fined to that remote corner of the world, but soon attracted the notice
and pleasing admiration of men of genius, learning, or piety, far and
near ; and therefore, on a vacancy at the College of New Jersey, occa-
sioned by the decease of two former Presidents,* in a close and
awful succession, he was elected to that important oflice in the year
1759.

Distressing as it was both to him and his people, united in the
strongest bonds of mutual affection, to think of a separation, yet a
conviction of absolute duty, resulting from the importance of the sta-
tion, from the various concurring providences, and lastly, from the
unanimous advice of his reverend brethren convened in synod, de-
termined him to accept the proposal. Great and pleasing were the
expectations with which we beheld him enter into that exalted sphere
of service ; yet I may boldly say that they were vastly exceeded in
every respect by the reputable manner in which he discharged the
arduous trust. The progress he made in all the branches of science,
with his capacity and diligence to acquire new improvements, enabled
him to conduct the youth with great advantage through the several
stages of useful and polite literature. And, while he endeavoured to
improve the minds, he was not less solicitous to reform the hearts and
lives of his pupils, to make them good as well as great, and fit them
for both worlds. He knew that religion was the brightest ornament
of the human, and the fairest image of the divine nature, that all true
benevolence to men must have its foundation laid in a supreme love
to God, and that undissembled piety in the heart was the best security
for usefulness in every character of life. It was therefore his con-
stant endeavour to promote the eternal as well as the temporal good
of the youth entrusted to his tuition, not only by his fervent preaching

* The Rev. Aaron Burr, in 1757, and the Rev. Jonathan Edwards, who
succeeded him, and died the winter following.

THE AUTHOR. 69

and exemplary life, but by inculcating at the proper seasons the worth
of their souls, and the vast, the inexpressible importance of their ever-
lasting interests.

In the government of the College, he had the peculiar art of min-
gling authority and lenity in such a due proportion, as seldom or never
failed of the desired success. Hence he was revered and loved by
every member of that collected family over which he presided. His
performances at public anniversary Commencements, as they never
failed to do honour to the institution, so they always surprised his
friends themselves by exceeding, far exceeding their most sanguine
expectations. His poetical compositions, and his elegant taste for
cultivating the Muses, gave additional embellishments to those per-
formances, and greatly heightened the pleasure of his crowded
auditors.

His acquaintance with mankind, his easy and polite behaviour,
his affability and condescension, his modesty and candour, his engag-
ing manner of address, with his sprightly and entertaining conversa-
tion, all the genuine fruits of a most benevolent heart, rendered him
greatly beloved through the large circle of his acquaintance, and as
greatly admired even by strangers, whose occasional excursions gave
them only the opportunity of a transient interview.

His natural temper, amiable in itself, and sweetened with all the
charms of divine grace, rendered him peculiarly dear in all the rela-
tive characters of social life, whether as a husband, a father, a tutor,
or a friend.

With this excellent man at the head of the College, what pleasing
prospects did we form of the extensive usefulness of that infant
seminary, both to the church and to the commonwealth ! He was,
in short, all we could wish or desire in a man, to promote the valuable
interests of learning and piety, and render the College reputable and
useful.

But, alas! all his ample furniture of gifts and graces, all the
amiable qualities of the mind, with the advantages of the happiest
constitution of body, could not secure him from the fate of mortals.
He is gone ; he has quitted this inferior world amidst the unfeigned
sorrows of his family, his friends, the College, and our country ; he
has taken his flight to his native skies, and joined with kindred spirits
in the regions of a glorious immortality, while his remains are gathered

70 CHARACTER OF THE AUTHOR.

to those of his predecessors, in the dark and dreary repository of the
grave.

Oh the unutterable and extensive loss to a distressed family, to a
bereaved College, to the ministry, to the church, to the community,
to the republic of letters, and in short to all the valuable interests of
mankind !

SERMONS

IMPORTANT SUBJECTS.

SERMON I.

THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY OF THE
CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

LUKE xvi. 27-31 : Then he said, I pray thee therefore,
father, that thouwouldst send him to my father's house :
for I have five brethren ; that he may testify unto them,
lest they also come into this place of torment. Abraham
saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets ; let
them hear them. And he said, Nay, father Abraham :
but if one went unto them from the dead they will re-
pent. And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses
and the prophets, neither wilt they be persuaded, though
one rose from the dead.

WHAT Micah said superstitiously, when he was robbed
of his idols, Ye have taken away my gods; and what have
I more ? (Judg. xviii. 24) may be truly spoken with re-
gard to the religion of Jesus. If that be taken from us,
what have we more? If the foundations be destroyed,
what shall the righteous do ? Ps. xi. 3. The generality
of you owe all your hopes of a glorious immortality to

71

72 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

this heaven-born religion, and you make it the rule of
your faith and practice; confident that in so doing you
please God.

But what if after all you should be mistaken? What
if the religion of Jesus should be an imposture? — I know
you are struck with horror at the thought, and perhaps,
alarmed at my making so shocking a supposition. But
this suspicion, horrid as it is, has probably been suggested
to you at times by infernal agency ; this suspicion may at
times have arisen in your minds in their wanton and licen-
tious excursions, or from the false alarms of a melancholy
and timorous imagination : and if this suspicion has never
been raised in you by the sophistical conversation of loose
wits and affected rationalists, it has been owing to your
happy retirement from the polite world, where infidelity
makes extensive conquests, under the specious name of
Deism. Since therefore you are subject to an assault from
such a suspicion, when you may not be armed ready to
repel it, let me this day start it from its ambush, that I
may try the force of a few arguments upon it, and furnish
you with weapons to conquer it.

Let me also tell you, that that faith in the Christian re-
ligion which proceeds from insufficient or bad principles,
is but little better than infidelity. If you believe the
Christian religion to be divine, because you hardly care
whether it be true or false, being utterly unconcerned
about religion in any shape, and therefore never examin-
ing the matter; if you believe it true, because you have
been educated in it; because your parents or ministers
have told you so; or because it is the religion of your
country ; if these are the only grounds of your faith, it is
not such a faith as constitutes you true Christians; for
upon the very same grounds you would have been Maho-
metans in Turkey, disciples of Confucius in China, or

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 73

worshippers of the Devil among the Indians, if it had
been your unhappy lot to be born in those countries ; for
a Mahometan, or a Chinese, or an Indian, can assign
these grounds for his faith. Surely, I need not tell you,
that the grounds of a mistaken belief in an imposture,
are not a sufficient foundation for a saving faith in divine
revelation. I am afraid there are many such implicit be-
lievers among us, who are in the right only by chance :
and these lie a prey to every temptation, and may be
turned out of the way of truth by every wind of doctrine.
It is therefore necessary to teach them the grounds of the
Christian religion, both to prevent their seduction, and to
give them a rational and well-grounded faith, instead of
that which is only blind and accidental.

Nay, such of us as have the clearest conviction of this
important truth, have need to have it inculcated upon us,
that we may be more and more impressed with it ; for the
influence of Christianity upon our hearts and lives will be
proportioned to the realizing, affecting persuasion of its
truth and certainty in our understandings.

If I can prove that Christianity answers all the ends of
a religion from God; if I can prove that it is attended
with sufficient attestation; if I can prove that no suffi-
cient objections can be offered against it; and that men
have no reason at all to desire another ; but that if this
proves ineffectual for their reformation and salvation,
there is no ground to hope that any other would prove
successful; I say, if I can prove these things, then the
point in debate is carried, and we must all embrace the
religion of Jesus as certainly true. These things are as-
serted or implied in my text, with respect to the Scrip-
tures then extant, Moses and the prophets.

My text is a parabolical dialogue between Abraham

and one of his wretched posterity, once rioting in the
VOL. I.— 10

74 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

luxuries of high life, but now tormented in infernal
flames.

We read of his brethren in his father's house. Among
these probably his estate was divided upon his decease ;
from whence we may infer that he had no children : for
had he had any, it would have been more natural to re-
present him as solicitous for their reformation by a mes-
senger from the dead, than for that of his brothers. He
seems, therefore, like some of our unhappy modern rakes,
just to have come to his estate, and to have abandoned
himself to such a course of debaucheries as soon shat-
tered his constitution, and brought him down to the grave,
and alas ! to hell, in the bloom of life, when they were
far from his thoughts. May this be a warning to all of
his age and circumstances !

Whether, from some remaining affection to his brethren,
or (which is more likely) from a fear that they who had
shared with him in sin would increase his torment, should
they descend to him in the infernal prison, he is solicitous
that Lazarus might be sent as an apostle from the dead to
warn them. His petition is to this purpose : " Since no
request in my own favour can be granted ; since I cannot
obtain the poor favour of a drop of water to cool my
flaming tongue, let me at least make one request in behalf
of those that are as yet in the land of hope, and not be-
yond the reach of mercy. In my father's house I have five
brethren, gay, thoughtless, young creatures, who are now
rioting in those riches I was forced to leave ; who interred
my mouldering corpse in state, little apprehensive of the
doom of my immortal part; who are now treading the
same enchanting paths of pleasure I walked in : and will,
unless reclaimed, soon descend, like me, thoughtless and
unprepared, into these doleful regions : I therefore pray,
that thou wouldest send Lazarus to alarm them in their

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 75

wild career, with an account of my dreadful doom, and in-
form them of the reality and importance of everlasting hap-
piness and misery, that they may reform, and so avoid this
place of torment, whence I can never escape."

Abraham's answer may be thus paraphrased : " If thy
brothers perish, it will not be for want of means; they
enjoy the sacred Scriptures of the Old Testament, written
by Moses and the prophets ; and these are sufficient to in-
form them of the necessary truths to regulate their prac-
tice, and particularly to warn them of everlasting punish-
ment! Let them therefore hear and regard, study and
obey, those writings : for they need no further means for
their salvation."

To this the wretched creature replies, "Nay, father
Abraham, these means will not avail ; I enjoyed them all ;
and yet here I am, a lost soul ; and I am afraid they will
have as little effect upon them as they had upon me.
These means are common and familiar, and therefore dis-
regarded. But if one arose from the dead, if an apostle
from the invisible world was sent to them, to declare as an
eye-witness the great things he has seen, surely they would
repent. The novelty and terror of the apparition would
alarm them. Their senses would be struck with so unu-
sual a messenger, and they would be convinced of the
reality of eternal things; therefore I must renew my re-
quest; send Lazarus to them in all the pomp of heavenly
splendour; Lazarus whom they once knew in so abject a
condition, and whom they will therefore the more regard,
when they see him appear in all his present glory."

Thus the miserable creature pleads, (and it is natural
for us to wish for other means, when those we have en-
joyed are ineffectual, though it should be through our own
neglect ;) but, alas ! he pleads in vain.

Abraham continues inexorable, and gives a very good

76 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

reason for his denial: "If they pay no regard to the
writings of Moses and the prophets, the standing revela-
tion God has left in his church, it would be to no purpose
to give them another: they would not be persuaded
though one rose from the dead; the same disposition that
renders them deaf to such messengers as Moses and the
prophets, would also render them impersuasible by a
messenger from the dead. Such an one might strike
them with a panic, but it would soon be over, and then
they would return to their usual round of pleasures; they
would presently think the apparition was but the creature
of their own imagination, or some unaccountable illusion
of their senses. If one arose from the dead, he could but
declare the same things substantially with Moses and the
prophets ; and he could not speak with greater authority,
or give better credentials than they ; and therefore they
who are not benefited by these standing means must be
given up as desperate; and God, for very good reasons,
will not multiply new revelations to them."

This answer of Abraham was exemplified when another
Lazarus was raised from the dead in the very sight of the
Jews, and Christ burst the bands of death, and gave them
incontestible evidences of his resurrection; and yet after
all they were not persuaded, but persisted in invincible in-
fidelity.

This parable was spoken before any part of the New
Testament was written, and added to the sacred canon;
and if it might be then asserted, that the standing reve-
lation of God's will was sufficient, and that it was needless
to demand farther, then much more may it be asserted
now, when the canon of the Scriptures is completed, and
we have received so much additional light from the New
Testament. We have not only Moses and the prophets,
but we have also Christ, who is a messenger from the

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 77

dead, and his apostles ; and therefore, surely, " if we do
not hear them, neither will we be persuaded, though one
rose from the dead." The Gospel is the last effort of the
grace of God with a guilty world; and if this has no
effect upon us, our disease is incurable that refuses to be
healed.

I cannot insist upon all the important truths contained
in this copious text, but only design,

I. To show the sufficiency of the standing revelation
of God's will in the Scriptures, to bring men to repent-
ance; and,

II. To expose the vanity and unreasonableness of the
objections against this revelation, and of demanding an-
other.

I. I am to show the sufficiency of the standing revela-
tion in the Scriptures to bring men to repentance.

If the Scriptures give us sufficient instructions in mat-
ters of faith, and sufficient directions in matters of prac-
tice, if they are attended with sufficient evidences for our
faith, and produce sufficient excitements to influence our
practice, then they contain a sufficient revelation; for it is
for these purposes we need a revelation, and a revelation
that answers these purposes has the directest tendency to
make us truly religious, and bring us to a happy immor-
tality. But that the revelation in the Scriptures, (par-
ticularly in the New Testament, which I shall more imme-
diately consider as being the immediate foundation of
Christianity) is sufficient for all these purposes, will be
evident from an induction of particulars.

1. The Scriptures give us sufficient instructions what
we should believe, or are a sufficient rule of faith.

Religion cannot subsist without right notions of God
and divine things; and entire ignorance or mistakes in its
fundamental articles must be destructive of its nature ; and

78 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

therefore a divine revelation must be a collection of rays
of light, a system of divine knowledge; and such we find
the Christian revelation to be, as contained in the sacred
writings.

In the Scriptures we find the faint discoveries of natural
reason illustrated, its uncertain conjectures determined,
and its mistakes corrected; so that Christianity includes
natural religion in the greatest perfection. But it does
not rest here; it brings to light things which eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of
man, 1 Cor. ii. 9 — things, which our feeble reason could
never have discovered without the help of a supernatural
revelation; and which yet are of the utmost importance
for us to know.

In the Scriptures we have the clearest and most
majestic account of the nature and perfections of the Deity,
and of his being the Creator, Ruler, and Benefactor of the
universe; to whom therefore all reasonable beings are un-
der infinite obligations.

In the Scriptures we have an account of the present
state of human nature, as degenerate, and a more rational
and easy account of its apostacy, than could ever be given
by the light of nature.

In the Scriptures too (which wound but to cure) we
have the welcome account of a method of recovery from
the ruins of our apostacy, through the mediation of the
Son of God; there we have the assurance, which we
could find no where else, that God is reconcilable, and
willing to pardon penitents upon the account of the obe-
dience and sufferings of Christ. There all our anxious
inquiries, Wherewith shall I come before the LORD, and bow
myself before the high God ? shall I come before him with
burnt-offerings ? &c., Micah vi. 6, 7, are satisfactorily an-
swered; and there the agonizing conscience can obtain re-

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 79

lief, which might. have sought it in vain among all the other
religions in the world.

In the Scriptures also, eternity and the invisible worlds
are laid open to our view ; and " life and immortality are
brought to light by the Gospel;" about which the heathen
sages, after all their inquiries, laboured under uneasy sus-
picions. There we are assured of the state of future re-
wards and punishments, according to our conduct in this
state of probation ; and the nature, perfection, and duration
of the happiness and misery, are described with as much
accuracy as are necessary to engage us to seek the one
and shun the other.

I particularize these doctrines of Christianity as a speci-
men, or as so many general heads, to which many others
may be reduced; not intending a complete enumeration,
which would lead me far beyond the bounds of one ser-
mon ; and for which my whole life is not sufficient. I
therefore proceed to add,

2. The Holy Scriptures give us complete directions in
matters of practice, or a sufficient rule of life.

A divine revelation must not be calculated merely to
amuse us, and gratify our curiosity with sublime and re-
fined notions and speculations, but adapted to direct and
regulate our practice, and render us better as well as
wiser.

Accordingly, the sacred writings give us a complete
system of practical religion and morality. There, not only
all the duties of natural religion are inculcated, but several
important duties, as love to our enemies, humility, &c.,
are clearly discovered, which the feeble light of reason in
the heathen moralists did either not perceive at all, or but
very faintly. In short, there we are informed of our
duties towards God, towards our neighbours, and towards
ourselves. The Scriptures are full of particular in-

80 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

junctions and directions to particular duties, lest we should
not be sagacious enough to infer them from general rules ;
and sometimes all these duties are summed up in some
short maxim, or general rule; which we may easily re-
member, and always carry about with us. Such a noble
summary is that which Christ has given us of the whole
moral law ; " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all
thy heart, &c., and thy neighbour as thyself." Or that
all-comprehending rule of our conduct towards one an-
other, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto
you, do ye the same unto them."

What recommends these doctrinal instructions and
practical directions is, that they are plain and obvious to
common sense. It is as much the concern of the illiterate
and vulgar to be religious, as of the few endowed with an
exalted and philosophic genius; and consequently, what-
ever difficulties may be in a revelation to exercise the
latter, yet all necessary matters of faith and practice must
be delivered in a plain manner, level to the capacities of
the former; otherwise it would be no revelation at all to
them who stand in most need of it. Accordingly the re-
ligion of Jesus, though it has mysteries equal and infinitely
superior to the largest capacity, yet in its necessary articles
is intelligible to all ranks who apply themselves with
proper diligence to the perusal of them ; and I dare affirm,
that a man of common sense, with the assistance of the
sacred Scriptures, can form a better system of religion and
morality than the wisest philosopher, with all his abilities
and learning, can form without this help. This I dare
affirm, because it has been put to trial, and attested by
matter of fact; for whoever is acquainted with the writings
of the ancient heathen philosophers, cannot but be con-
vinced, that amidst all their learning and study, amidst all
their shining thoughts and refined speculations, they had

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 81

not such just notions of God and his perfections, of the
most acceptable way of worshipping him, of the duties of
morality, and of a future state, as any common Christian
among us has learned from the Scriptures, without any
uncommon natural parts, without extensive learning, and
without such painful study and close application as the
heathen moralists were forced to use to make their less
perfect discoveries. In this sense the least in the kingdom
of heaven, i. e., any common Christian, is greater than all
the Socrateses, the Platos, the Ciceros, and the Senecas of
antiquity ; as one that is of a weak sight can see more
clearly by the help of day-light, than the clearest eye can
without it.

And by whom was this vast treasure of knowledge laid
up to enrich the world? by whom were these matchless
writings composed, which furnish us with a system of re-
ligion and morality so much more plain, so much more
perfect, than all the famous sages of antiquity could frame ?
Why, to our astonishment, they were composed by a com-
pany of fishermen, or persons not much superior; by
persons generally without any liberal education ; persons
who had not devoted their lives to intellectual improve-
ment; persons of no extraordinary natural parts, and
who had not travelled, like the ancient philosophers, to
gather up fragments of knowledge in different countries,
but who lived in Judea, a country where learning was
but little cultivated, in comparison of Greece and Rome.
These were the most accomplished teachers of mankind
that ever appeared in the world. And can this be ac-
counted for, without acknowledging their inspiration from
heaven? If human reason could have made such disco-
veries, surely it would have made them by those in whom
it was improved to the greatest perfection, and not by a
company of ignorant mechanics.
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82 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

The persons themselves declare that they had not made
these discoveries, but were taught them immediately from
heaven, (which indeed we must have believed, though
they had not told us so.) Now we must believe their de-
claration, and own them inspired, or fall into this absur-
dity. That a company of illiterate, wicked, and daring
impostors, who were hardy enough to pretend themselves
commissioned and inspired from God, have furnished us
with an incomparably more excellent system of religion
and virtue, than could be furnished by all the wisest and
best of the sons of men beside; and he that can believe
this may believe any thing ; and should never more pre-
tend that he cannot believe the Christian religion upon the
account of the difficulties that attend it.

I have touched but superficially upon the sufficiency of
the Scriptures as a rule of faith and practice ; for to dwell
long upon this, would be to fight without an antagonist.
Our infidels reject the Christian religion, because they
suppose it requires them to believe and practise too much,
rather than too little. Hence they are for lopping off a
great part of its doctrines and precepts, as superfluities, or
incumbrances, and forming a meagre skeleton of natural
religion. Their intellectual pride will not stoop to be-
lieve doctrines which they cannot comprehend ; and they
cannot bear such narrow bounds as the precepts of Chris-
tianity fix for them in their pursuits of pleasure, and
therefore they would break these bands asunder. That
which they affect most to complain of^ is the want of evi-
dence to convince them of the truth of this ungrateful
religion; it will therefore be necessary to prove more
largely, that,

3. The Scriptures are attended with sufficient evidences
of their truth and divinity.

It is certain that as God can accept no other worship

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 83

than rational from reasonable creatures, he cannot require
us to believe a revelation to be divine without sufficient
reason ; and therefore, when he gives us a revelation, he
will attest it with such evidences as will be a sufficient
foundation of our belief.

Accordingly the Scriptures are attested with all the evi-
dences intrinsic and extrinsic, which we can reasonably
desire, and with all the evidences the nature of the thing
will admit.

As for intrinsic evidences, many might be mentioned;
but I must at present confine myself in proper limits. I
shall resume the one I have already hinted at, namely,
that the religion of the Bible has the directest tendency
to promote true piety and solid virtue in the world ; it is
such a religion as becomes a God to reveal ; such a reli-
gion as we might expect from him, in case he instituted
any; a religion intended and adapted to regulate self-love,
and to diffuse the love of God and man through the
world, the only generous principles and vigorous springs
of a suitable conduct towards God, towards one another,
and towards ourselves; a religion productive of every
humane, social, and divine virtue, and directly calculated to
banish all sin out of the world ; to transform impiety into
devotion; injustice and oppression into equity and uni-
versal benevolence ; and sensuality into sobriety : a reli-
gion infinitely preferable to any that has been contrived
by the wisest and best of mortals. And whence do you
think could this god-like religion proceed? Does not its
nature prove its origin divine ? Does it not evidently bear
the lineaments of its heavenly Parent? Can you once
imagine that such a pure, such a holy, such a perfect sys-
tem, could be the contrivance of wicked, infernal spirits,
of selfish, artful priests, or politicians, or of a parcel of
daring impostors, or wild enthusiasts ? Could these con-

84 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

trive a religion so contrary to their inclination, so destruc-
tive of their interest, and so directly conducing to promote
the cause they abhor? If you can believe this, you may
also believe that light is the product of darkness, virtue of
vice, good of evil, &c. If such beings as these had con-
trived a religion, it would have borne the same appearance
in the Bible as it does in Italy or Spain, where it is de-
generated into a mere trade for the benefit of tyrannical
and voracious priests ; or it would have been such a reli-
gion as that of Mahomet, allowing its subjects to propa-
gate it with the sword, that they might enrich themselves
with the plunder of conquered nations; and indulging
them in the gratification of their lusts, particularly in
polygamy, or the unbounded enjoyment of women. This
religion, I fear, would suit the taste of our licentious free-
thinkers much better than the holy religion of Jesus. Or
if we should suppose Christianity to be the contrivance
of visionary enthusiasts, then it would not be that rational
system which it is, but a huddle of fanatical reveries and
ridiculous whims. If, then, it could not be the contriv-
ance of such authors as these, to whom shall we ascribe
it? It must have had some author; for it could not come
into being without a cause, no more than the system of
the universe. Will you then ascribe it to good men ?
But these men were either inspired from heaven, or they
were not ; if they were not, then they could not be good
men, but most audacious liars ; for they plainly declared,
they were divinely inspired, and stood in it to the last ;
which no good man would do if such a declaration was
false. If they were inspired from heaven, then the point
is gained ; then Christianity is a religion from God ; for to
receive a religion from persons divinely inspired, and to
receive it from God, is the same thing.

Another intrinsic evidence is that of prophecy.

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 85

Those future events which are contingent, or which
shall be accomplished by causes that do not now exist or
appear, cannot be certainly foreknown or foretold by man,
as we find by our own experience. Such objects fall
within the compass of Omniscience only; and therefore
when short-sighted mortals are enabled to predict such
events many years, and even ages before they happen, it
is a certain evidence that they are let into the secrets of
heaven, and that God communicates to them a knowledge
which cannot be acquired by the most sagacious human
mind ; and this is an evidence that the persons thus divinely
taught are the messengers of God, to declare his will to
the world.

Now there are numberless instances of such prophecies
in the sacred writings. Thus a prophet foretold the de-
struction of Jeroboam's altar by the good Josiah, many
ages before, 1 Kings xiii. 2. Cyrus was foretold by name
as the restorer of the Jews from Babylon, to rebuild their
temple and city, about a hundred years before he was
born, Isaiah xlv. 1, &c. Several of the prophets foretold
the destruction of various kingdoms in a very punctual
manner, as of Jerusalem, Babylon, Egypt, Ninevah, &c.,
which prediction was exactly fulfilled. But the most re-
markable prophecies of the Old Testament are those re-
lating to the Messiah ; which are so numerous and full,
that they might serve for materials for his history ; they
fix the time of his coming, viz., while the sceptre continued
in Judah, Gen. xlix. 10, while the second temple was yet
standing, Hag. ii. 7, Mai. iii. 1, and towards the close of
Daniel's seventy weeks of years, i. e., four hundred and
ninety years from the rebuilding of Jerusalem, Dan. ix. 24,
&c. These prophecies also describe the lineage of the
Messiah, the manner of his conception, his life and mira-
cles, his death, and the various circumstances of it; his

THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

resurrection, ascension, and advancement to universal em-
pire, and the spread of the gospel through the world. In
the New Testament also we meet with sundry remarkable
prophecies. There Christ foretells his own death, and the
manner of it, and his triumphant resurrection ; there, with
surprising accuracy, he predicts the destruction of Jerusa-
lem by the Romans. We find various prophecies also in
the apostolic epistles, particularly that of St. Paul, Rom.
xi., concerning the conversion of the Jews ; which, though
it be not yet accomplished, yet we see a remarkable pro-
vidence making way for it, in keeping the Jews, who are
scattered over all the earth, distinct from all other nations
for about one thousand seven hundred years, though they
are hated of all nations, and consequently under the
strongest temptation to coalesce with, and lose themselves
among them ; and though all other nations have in a much
shorter time mixed in such a manner, that none of them
can now trace their own original ; e. g., who can now dis-
tinguish the posterity of the ancient Romans from the
Goths and Vandals, and others that broke in upon their
empire and settled among them ; or of the ancient Angli
from the Danes, &c., that mingled with them 1

These and many other plain predictions are interspersed
through the Scriptures, and prove their original to be from
the Father of lights, who alone knows all his works from
the beginning, and who declares such distant contingent
futurities from ancient times. Isaiah xlv. 21.

I might, as another intrinsic evidence of the truth of
Christianity, mention its glorious energy on the minds of
men, in convincing them of sin, easing their consciences,
inspiring them with unspeakable joy, subduing their lusts,
and transforming them into its own likeness; which is at-
tested by the daily experience of every true Christian.
Every one that believeth hath this witness in himself: and

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 87

this is an evidence level to the meanest capacity, which
may be soon lost in the course of sublime reasoning. But
as the deists declare, alas! with too much truth, that the
gospel hath no such power upon them, it is not to my
purpose to insist upon it.

I therefore proceed to mention some of the extrinsic
evidences of the religion of Jesus, particularly the miracles
with which it was confirmed, and its early propagation
through the world.

Miracles of this case are events above or contrary
to the established law of nature, done with a professed
design to attest a revelation; and as they are obvious
and striking to the senses of the most ignorant and
unthinking, they are the most popular and convictive
evidences, adapted to the generality of mankind, who
are incapable of a long train of argumentation, or of
perceiving the origin of a religion from its nature and
tendency.

Now the religion of Jesus is abundantly attested with
this kind of evidence. The history of the life of Jesus
and his apostles is one continued series of miracles. Sight
was restored to the blind, the deaf were enabled to hear,
the lame to walk, the maimed furnished with new-created
limbs, the sick healed, the rage of winds and seas con-
trolled, yea, the dead were raised; and all this with an air
of sovereignty, such as became a God; the apostles were
also endowed with miraculous powers, enabled to speak
with tongues, and to communicate the Holy Spirit to
others. These miracles were done not in a corner, but in
the most public places, before numerous spectators, friends
and foes : and the persons that wrought them appealed to
them as the evidences of their divine mission: and the
account of them is conveyed down to us by the best
medium, written tradition, in a history that bears all the

00 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

evidences of credibility, of which any composition of that
kind is capable.

Another extrinsic evidence of the truth of Christianity
is its extensive propagation through the world in the most
unpromising circumstances.

The only religion, besides the Christian, which has had
any very considerable spread in the world, is that of
Mahomet; but we may easily account for this, without
supposing it divine, from its nature, as indulging the lusts
of men; and especially from the manner of its propagation,
not by the force of evidence, but by the force of arms.
But the circumstances of the propagation of Christianity
were quite otherwise, whether we consider its contrariety
to the corruptions, prejudices, and interests of men; the
easiness of detecting it, had it been false; the violent op-
position it met with from all the powers of the earth; the
instruments of its propagation; or the measures they took
for that purpose.

Christianity is directly contrary to the corruptions,
prejudices, and interests of mankind. It grants no in-
dulgence to the corrupt propensities of a degenerate
world; but requires that universal holiness of heart and
life which, as we find by daily observation, is so ungrateful
to them, and which is the principal reason that the religion
of Jesus meets with so much contempt and opposition in
every age.

When Christianity was first propagated, all nations had
been educated in some other religion; the Jews were at-
tached to Moses, and the Gentiles to their various systems
of heathenism, and were all of them very zealous for their
own religion; but Christianity proposed a new scheme,
and could not take place without antiquating or exploding
all other religions; and therefore it was contrary to the
inveterate prejudices of all mankind, and could never have

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 89

been so generally received, if it had not brought with it
the most evident credentials ; especially considering that
some of its doctrines were such as seemed to the Jews a
stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness; particu-
larly that one of obscure birth and low life, who was pub-
licly executed as a slave and malefactor, should be wor-
shipped and honoured as God, upon pain of everlasting
damnation; and that there should be a resurrection of the
dead : the last of which was an object of ridicule to all the
wits and philosophers of the heathen world. Again, as
some religion or other was established in all nations, there
were many, like Demetrius and his craftsmen, whose tem-
poral livings and interest depended upon the continuance
of their religion; and if that was changed, they fell into
poverty and disgrace. There was a powerful party in
every nation, and they would exert themselves to prevent
the spread of an innovation so dangerous to their interest,
which we find by all histories of those times they actually
did: — and yet the despised religion of Jesus triumphed
over all their opposition, and maintained its credit in spite
of all their endeavours to detect it as an imposture; and
this proves it was not an imposture; for,

In the next place, it was easy to have detected Chris-
tianity as an imposture, nay, it was impossible it should not
have been detected, if it had been such; for the great facts
upon which the evidence of it rested, were said to be ob-
vious and public, done before thousands and in all
countries ; for wherever the apostles travelled they carried
their miraculous powers along with them. Thousands
must know whether Christ had fed many thousands with
provisions only sufficient for a few; whether Lazarus was
raised from the dead before the admiring multitude;
whether the apostles spoke with tongues to those various
nations among whom they endeavoured to propagate their
VOL. I.— 12

90 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

religion, (as indeed they must have done, otherwise they
would not have been understood.) These things, and
many others, upon which the evidence of Christianity de-
pends, were public in their own nature ; and therefore, if
they had not been matters of fact, the cheat must have
been unavoidably detected, especially when so many were
concerned to detect it.

Farther: Christianity met with the most strenuous op-
position from all the powers of the earth. The Jewish
rulers and most of the populace were implacable enemies;
and as they lived on the spot where its miraculous attesta-
tions were said to be given, it was in their power to crush
it in its birth, and never have suffered it to spread farther,
had it not been attended with invincible evidence. All
the power of the Roman empire was also exerted for its
extirpation ; and its propagators and disciples could expect
no profit or pleasure by it, but were assured, from the
posture of affairs, from daily experience, and from the pre-
dictions of their Master, that they should meet with shame,
persecution, and death itself, in its most tremendous
shapes; and in the next world they could expect nothing,
even according to their own doctrine, but everlasting
damnation, if they were wilful impostors ; and yet, in spite
of all these discouragements, they courageously persisted
in their testimony to the last, though they might have
secured their lives, and helped their fortune (as Judas did)
by retracting it; nay, their testimony prevailed, in defiance
of all opposition; multitudes in all nations then known em-
braced the faith; though they expected tortures and death
for it; and in a few centuries, the vast and mighty Roman
empire submitted to the religion of a crucified Jesus. And
who were those mighty heroes that thus triumphed over
the world? Why, to our surprise,

The instruments of the propagation of Christianity were

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 91

a company of poor mechanics, publicans, tent-makers, and
fishermen, from the despised nation of the Jews. And by
what strange powers or arts did they make these extensive
conquests ?

The measures they took were a plain declaration of
their religion ; and they wrought miracles for its confir-
mation. They did not use the power of the sword, nor
secular terrors, or bribery; they were without learning,
without the arts of reasoning and persuasion; and without
all the usual artifices of seducers to gain credit to their
imposture.

Here I cannot but take particular notice of that match-
less simplicity that appears in the history of Christ and his
apostles. The evangelists write in that artless, calm, and
unguarded manner, which is natural to persons confident
of the undeniable truth of what they assert; they do not
write with that scrupulous caution which would argue any
fear that they might be confuted. They simply relate the
naked facts, and leave them to stand upon their own
evidence. They relate the most amazing, the most
moving things, with the most cool serenity, without any
passionate exclamations and warm reflections. For ex-
ample, they relate the most astonishing miracles, as the
resurrection of Lazarus, in the most simple, and, as it
were, careless manner, without breaking out and cele-
brating the divine power of Christ. In the same manner
they relate the most tragical circumstances of his con-
demnation and death, calmly mentioning matter of fact,
without any invectives against the Jews, without any high
eulogies upon Christ's innocence, without any rapturous
celebrations of his grace in suffering all these things for
sinners, and without any tender lamentations over their
deceased Master. It is impossible for a heart so deeply
impressed with such things, as theirs undoubtedly were, to

92 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

retain this dispassionate serenity, unless laid under super-
natural restraints; and there appears very good reasons
for this restraint upon them, viz., that the gospel history
might carry intrinsic evidences of its simplicity and artless
impartiality; and that it might appear adapted to convince
the judgments of men, and not merely to raise their pas-
sions. In this respect, the gospel-history is distinguished
from all histories in the world: and can we think so plain,
so undisguised, so artless a composure, the contrivance of
designing impostors? Would not a consciousness that
they might be detected keep them more upon their guard,
and make them more ready to anticipate and confine ob-
jections, and take every artifice to recommend their cause,
and prepossess the reader in its favour ?

It only remains under this head, that I should

4. Show that the religion of Jesus proposes sufficient
excitements to influence our faith and practice.

To enforce a system of doctrines and precepts, two
things are especially necessary; that they should be made
duty by competent authority, and matters of interest by
a sanction of rewards and punishments. To which I may
add, that the excitements are still stronger, when we are
laid under the gentle obligations of gratitude. In all these
respects the Christian religion has the most powerful en-
forcements.

The authority upon which we are required to receive
the doctrines, and observe the precepts of Christianity,
is no less than the authority of God, the supreme Law-
giver and infallible Teacher; whose wisdom to prescribe,
and right to command, are indisputable; and we may
safely submit our understandings to his instructions, how-
ever mysterious, and our wills to his injunctions, however
difficult they may seem to us. This gives the religion of
Jesus a binding authority upon the consciences of men;

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 93

which is absolutely necessary to bring piety and virtue
into practice in the world; for if men are left at liberty,
they will follow their own inclinations, however wicked
and pernicious. And in this respect, Christianity bears a
glorious preference to all the systems of morality com-
posed by the heathen philosophers; for though there were
many good things in them, yet who gave authority to
Socrates, Plato, or Seneca, to assume the province of law-
givers, and dictators to mankind, and prescribe to their
consciences? All they could do was to teach, to advise, to
persuade, to reason; but mankind were at liberty, after all,
whether to take their advice or not. And this shows the
necessity of supernatural revelation not merely to make
known things beyond human apprehension, but to enforce
with proper authority such duties as might be discovered by
man; since without it they would not have the binding force
of a law.

As to the sanction of rewards and punishments in Chris-
tianity, they are such as became a God to annex to his
majestic law, such as are agreeable to creatures formed
for immortality, and such as would have the most effectual
tendency to encourage obedience, and prevent sin; they
are no less than the most perfect happiness and misery,
which human nature is capable of, and that through an
endless duration. If these are not sufficient to allure
rational creatures to obedience, then no considerations that
can be proposed can have any effect. These tend to
alarm our hopes and our fears, the most vigorous springs
of human activity: and if these have no effect upon us,
nothing that God can reveal, or our minds conceive, will
have any effect. God, by adding the greatest sanctions
possible to his law, has taken the best possible precautions
to prevent disobedience; and since even these do not re-
strain men from it, we are sure that less would not suffice.

94 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

If men will go on in sin, though they believe the punish-
ment due to it will be eternal, then much more would
they persist in it, if it were not eternal ; or, if they say
they will indulge themselves in sin, because they believe
it not eternal, then this proves from their own mouth, that
it should be eternal in order to restrain them. The
prevalence of sin in the world tends to render it miser-
able; and therefore, to prevent it, as well as to display
God's eternal regard to moral goodness, it is fit that he
should annex the highest degree of punishment to disobe-
dience in every individual ; for the indulgence of sin in one
individual would be a temptation to the whole rational
creation ; and, on the other hand, the threatenings of ever-
lasting punishment to all sinners indefinitely, is necessary
to deter the whole rational world, and every particular
person from disobedience. Thus in civil government, it
is necessary that robbery should be threatened indefinitely
with death, because though one robber may take from a man
but what he can very well spare; yet, if every man might
rob and plunder his neighbour, the consequence would
be universal robbery and confusion. It is therefore neces-
sary that the greatest punishment should be threatened to
disobedience, both to prevent it, and to testify the divine
displeasure against it; which is the primary design of the
threatening ; and since the penalty was annexed with this
view, it follows, that it was primarily enacted with a
view to the happiness of mankind, by preventing what
would naturally make them miserable, and but secondarily
with a view to be executed ; for it is to be executed only
upon condition of disobedience ; which disobedience it was
intended to prevent, and consequently it was not immedi-
ately intended to be executed, or enacted for the sake of
the execution, as though God took a malignant pleasure
in the misery of his creatures. But when the penalty has

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 95

failed of its primary end, restraining from sin, then it is fit
it should answer its secondary end, and be executed upon
the offender, to keep the rest of reasonable creatures in
their obedience, to illustrate the veracity and holiness of
the lawgiver, and prevent his government from falling into
contempt. There are the same reasons that threatenings
should be executed when denounced, as for their being
denounced at first; for threatenings never executed, are
the same with no threatenings at all.

Let me add, that the gospel lays us under the strongest
obligations from gratitude. It not only clearly informs us
of our obligations to God, as the author of our being, and
all our temporal blessings, which natural religion more
faintly discovers, but superadds those more endearing ones
derived from the scheme of man's redemption through the
death of the eternal Son of God. Though the blessings
of creation and providence are great in themselves, they
are swallowed up, as it were, and lost in the love of God ;
which is commended to us by this matchless circumstance,
" that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us ;" and
while under the constraints of this love, we cannot but
devote ourselves entirely to God, 2 Cor. v. 14, 15.

Thus I have hinted at a few things among the many
that might be mentioned to prove the divinity of the reli-
gion of Jesus, and its sufficiency to bring men to repent-
ance and salvation. And if it be so, why should it be re-
jected, or another sought? This reminds me that I pro-
mised,

II. To expose the vanity and unreasonableness of the
objection against the Christian religion, or of demanding
another, &c.

What can our ingenious infidels offer against what has
been said? It must be something very weighty indeed to
preponderate all this evidence. A laugh, or a sneer, a

96 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

pert witticism, declaiming against priestcraft and the preju-
dices of education, artful evasions, and shallow sophisms,
the usual arguments of our pretended free-thinkers, these
will not suffice to banter us out of our joyful confidence
of the divinity of the religion of Jesus ; and I may add,
these will not suffice to indemnify them. Nothing will be
sufficient for this but demonstration : it lies upon them to
prove the Christian religion to be certainly false : other-
wise, unless they are hardened to a prodigy, they must be
racked with anxious fears lest they should find it true to
their cost; and lest that dismal threatening should stand
firm against them : "He that believeth not, shall be damned"
What mighty objections, then, have they to offer? Will
they say that the Christian religion contains mysterious
doctrines, which they cannot comprehend, which seem to
them unaccountable? As that of the trinity, the incarna-
tion, and satisfaction of Christ, &c. But will they ad-
vance their understanding to be the universal standard of
truth ? Will they pretend to comprehend the infinite God,
in their finite minds? then let them go, and measure the
heavens with a span, and comprehend the ocean in the
hollow of their hand. Will they pretend to understand
the divine nature, when they cannot understand their own ?
when they cannot account for or explain the union betwixt
their own souls and bodies? Will they reject mysteries
in Christianity, when they must own them in every thing
else ? Let them first solve all the phenomena in nature ; let
them give us a rational theory of the infinite divisibility
of a piece of finite matter ; let them account for the seem-
ingly magical operation of the loadstone; the circulation
of the blood upwards as well as downwards, contrary to all
the laws of motion ; let them inform us of the causes of
the cohesion of the particles of matter; let them tell us,
how spirits can receive ideas from material organs ; how

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 97

they hear and see, &c. : let them give us intelligible theo-
ries of these things, and then they may, with something
of a better grace, set up for critics upon God and his
ways; but, while they are mysteries to themselves, while
every particle of matter baffles their understandings, it is
the most impious intellectual pride to reject Christianity
upon the account of its mysteries, and set up themselves as
the supreme judges of truth.

Or will they object that there are a great many difficult
and strange passages in Scripture, the meaning and pro-
priety of which they do not see? And are there not
many strange things in the book of nature, and the ad-
ministration of Providence, the design and use of which
they cannot see, many things that to them seem wrong
and ill-contrived? Yet they own the world was created
by God, and that his providence rules it : and why will
they not allow that the Scriptures may be from God, not-
withstanding these difficulties and seeming incongruities?
When a learned man can easily raise his discourse above
the capacity of common people, will they not condescend
to grant that an infinite God can easily overshoot their
little souls? Indeed a revelation which we could fully
comprehend, would not appear the production of an infi-
nite mind ; it would bear no resemblance to its heavenly
Father; and therefore we should have reason to suspect
it spurious. It is necessary we should meet with difficul-
ties in the Scriptures to mortify our pride. But farther,
will they make no allowance for the different customs and
practices of different ages? It is certain, that may be
proper and graceful in one age which would be ridiculous
and absurd in another; and since the Scriptures were
written so many years ago, we may safely make this allow-
ance for them, which will remove many seeming absurdi-
ties. There should also allowance be made for the Scrip-
VOL. I.— 13

98 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

tures being rendered literally out of dead, difficult lan-
guages ; for we know that many expressions may be beau-
tiful and significant in one language, which would be ridi-
culous and nonsensical if literally translated into another.
Were Homer or Virgil thus translated into English, with-
out regard to the idiom of the language, instead of admir-
ing their beauties, we should be apt to think (as Cowley
expresses it) "that one madman had translated another
madman."

Will they object the wicked lives of its professors against
the holiness and good tendency of Christianity itself? But
is it Christianity, as practised in the world, or Christianity
as taught by Christ and his apostles, and continued in the
Bible, that I am proving to be divine? You know it is
the latter, and consequently the poor appearance it makes
in the former sense, is no argument against its purity and
divinity in this. Again, are the bad lives of professors
taught and enjoined by genuine Christianity, and agree-
able to it? No; they are quite contrary to it, and sub-
versive of it; and it is so far from encouraging such pro-
fessors, that it pronounces them miserable hypocrites ; and
their doom will be more severe than that of heathens.
Again, are there not hypocritical professors of morality
and natural religion, as well as of revealed ? Are there not
many who cry up morality and religion of nature, and yet
boldly violate its plainest precepts ? If therefore this be
a sufficient objection against Christianity, it must be so too
against all religion. Further: do men grow better by
renouncing the religion of Jesus? Observation assures
us quite the contrary. Finally, are there not some of the
professors of Christianity who live habitually according to
it? who give us the best patterns of piety and virtue that
ever were exhibited to the world? This is sufficient to
vindicate the religion they profess, and it is highly inju-

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 99

rious to involve such promiscuously in the odium and con-
tempt due to barefaced hypocrites. How would this rea-
soning please the Deists themselves in parallel cases?
" Some that have no regard to Christianity have been
murderers, thieves, &c., therefore all that disregard it are
such." Or " some that pretended to be honest, have been
found villains ; therefore all that pretend to it are such ;
or therefore honesty is no virtue."

Or will they change the note, and instead of pleading
that Christianity leads to licentiousness, object that it bears
too hard upon the pleasures of mankind, and lays them
under too severe restraints? Or that its penalties are ex-
cessive and cruel? But does it rob mankind of any plea-
sures worthy the rational nature, worthy the pursuit of
creatures formed for immortality, and consistent with the
good of the whole ? It restrains them indeed ; but it is only
as a physician restrains his patient from poison or any im-
proper regimen ; it restrains men from living like beasts ;
it restrains them from those pleasures which will ruin their
souls and bodies in the event ; it restrains them from grati-
fying a private passion at the expense of the public ; in
short, it restrains them from making themselves and others
miserable. Hard restraint indeed ! and the Deists, to be
sure, are generous patrons of human liberty, who would
free us from such grievances as these ! However, this
objection lets us into the secret, and informs us of the
reason why our pretended free-thinkers are such enemies
to Christianity ; it is because it checks their lusts, and will
not permit them to act, as well as think freely, i. e., as they
please. If they would content themselves with manly and
rational pleasures, they would not count the restraints of
Christianity intolerable; nay, they would find in it a set
of peculiarly noble and refined pleasures, which they might
seek in vain elsewhere ; for it is so far from being an enemy

100 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

to the happiness of man, that it was designed to promote
it; and then we make ourselves miserable when we reject
it, or it becomes our interest that it should be false. As
to the penalty of everlasting punishment annexed to sin,
which is but a temporal evil, I would ask them whether
they are competent judges in a matter in which they are
parties? Are they capable to determine what degree of
punishment should be inflicted upon disobedience to the
infinite Majesty of heaven, when they are not only short-
sighted creatures, but also concerned in the affair, and
their judgments may be perverted by self-interest ? Whe-
ther it is most fit that the Judge of all the earth should
determine this point, or a company of malefactors, as
they are? Is it allowed to criminals in civil courts to de-
termine their own doom, or pronounce their own sentence ?
If it were, few of them would be punished at all, and go-
vernment would fall into contempt. Again, let me remind
them, that the penalty was annexed to prevent disobedience,
and so to render the execution needless ; and consequently
it was primarily intended for their good. Why then
will they frustrate this design, and, when they have ren-
dered the execution necessary, complain of its severity?
If they think the penalty so terrible, let them watch
against sin, let them accept the salvation the gospel offers,
and so avoid it instead of quarreling with its severity, and
yet rushing upon it. Or, if they say they will persist in
sin because they do not believe the punishment is eternal ;
this gives me room to appeal to themselves whether a less
penalty than everlasting misery would be sufficient to re-
strain them from sin ; and whether God would have taken
all proper precautions to prevent sin, if he had annexed a
less punishment to his law, since by their own confession,
nothing less could deter them from it. I shall only add,
that as the human soul must always exist, and as by in-

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 101

dulgence in sin in the present state it contracts such
habits as render it incapable of happiness in the holy en-
joyment of the heavenly world, it must by a natural
necessity be for ever miserable, though God should not
exert any positive act for its punishment. And if the
Deists say, that punishment for some time would reclaim
offenders from sin and bring them to repentance, the diffi-
culty is not removed, unless they can prove that misery
will bring men to love that God who inflicts it, which they
can never do; and it is evident, that that repentance
which proceeds merely from self-love, without any regard
to God at all, can never be pleasing to him, nor prepare
them for happiness in the enjoyment of him. Punishment
would produce a repentance like that of a sick-bed, forced,
servile, and transitory.

Will they object, that miracles are not a sufficient evi-
dence of the truth and divinity of a revelation, because
infernal spirits may also work miracles, as in the case of
the magicians of Egypt, to confirm an imposture 1 But it
is known that our free-thinkers explode and laugh at the
existence and power of evil spirits in other cases, and
therefore must not be allowed to admit them here to serve
a turn. However, we grant there are infernal spirits, and
that they can perform many things above human power,
which may appear to us miraculous, and yet the evidence
in favour of Christianity taken from miracles, stands un-
shaken: for, (1.) Can we suppose that these malignant
and wicked spirits, whose business it is to reduce men to
sin and ruin, would be willing to exert their power to
work miracles to confirm so holy a religion; a religion so
contrary to their design, and so subversive of their king-
dom and interest? This would be wretched policy in-
deed. Or if we should suppose them willing, yet (2.)
Can we think that God, who has them all at his control,

102 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

would suffer them to counterfeit the great seal of heaven,
and annex it to an imposture ? that is, to work such mira-
cles as could not be distinguished from those wrought by
him to attest an imposture ? Would he permit them to
impose upon mankind in a manner that could not be de-
tected 1 This would be to deliver the world to their man-
agement, and suffer them to lead them blindfold to hell in
unavoidable delusion : for miracles are such dazzling and
pompous evidences, that the general run of mankind
could not resist them, even though they were wrought to
attest a religion that might be demonstrated, by a long
train of sublime reasoning, to be false. God may indeed
suffer the devil to mimic the miracles wrought by his im-
mediate hand, as in the case of Jannes and Jambres ; but
then, as in that case too, he will take care to excel them,
and give some distinguishing marks of his almighty agency,
which all mankind may easily discriminate from the ut-
most exertion of infernal power. But though Satan
should be willing, and God should permit him to work
miracles, yet, (3.) Can we suppose that all the united
powers of hell are able to work such astonishing miracles
as were wrought for the confirmation of the Christian re-
ligion 1 Can we suppose that they can control the laws
of nature at pleasure, and that with an air of sovereignty,
and professing themselves the lords of the universe, as we
know Christ did 1 If we can believe this, then we deny
them, and may as well ascribe the creation and preserva-
tion of the world to them. If they could exert a creat-
ing power to form new limbs for the maimed, or to mul-
tiply five loaves and two fishes into a sufficient quantity
of food for five thousand, and leave a greater quantity of
fragments when that were done than the whole provision
at first, then they might create the world, and support all
the creatures in it. If they could animate the dead and

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 103

remand the separate soul back to its former habitation,
and reunite it with the body, then I see not why they
might not have given us life at first. But to suppose this,
would be to dethrone the King of heaven, and renounce
his providence entirely. We therefore rest assured that
the miracles related in the Scriptures were wrought by
the finger of God.

But our free-thinkers will urge, how do we, at this dis-
tance, know that such miracles were actually wrought?
they are only related in Scripture history ; but to prove
the truth of Scripture from arguments that suppose the
Scripture true, is a ridiculous method of reasoning, and
only a begging of the question. But, (1.) the reality of
those miracles was granted by the enemies of Christianity
in their writings against it ; and they had no answer to
make, but this sorry one, that they were wrought by the
power of magic. They never durst deny that they were
wrought; for they knew all the world could prove it.
Indeed, an honorable testimony concerning them could
not be expected from infidels ; for it would be utterly in-
consistent that they should own these miracles sufficient
attestations of Christianity, and yet continue infidels.
And this may answer an unreasonable demand of the
Deists, that we should produce some honourable testimony
concerning these attestations from Jews and Heathens, as
well as from Christians, who were parties. We should
have much more reason to suspect the testimony of the
former as not convictive, when it did not convince the
persons themselves. But,

(2.) As these miracles were of so public a nature, and
as so many were concerned to detect them, that they
would unavoidably have been detected when related in
words, if they had not been done ; so, for the same reasons,
they could not but have been detected when related in

104 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

writing; and this we know they never were. If these
miracles had not been matters of undoubted fact, they
could not have been inserted at first in the gospel history ;
for then, many thousands, in various countries were alive
to confute them ; and they could not have been introduced
into it afterwards, for all the world would see that it was
then too late, and that if there had been such things they
should have heard of them before : for they were much
more necessary for the propagation of Christianity than
for its support when received.

But it may be objected, How can we at this distance
know that these histories are genuine ? May they not
have been corrupted, and many additions made to them
by designing men in ages since ? And why is it not also
asked, How do we know that there were such men as
Alexander, Julius Caesar or King William the Third ?
How do we know but their histories are all romance and
fable ? How do we know that there were any genera-
tions of mankind before ourselves? How do we know
but all the acts of Parliament of former reigns are cor-
rupted and we are ruled by impositions? In short, how
can we know anything, but what we have seen with our
eyes ? We may as well make difficulties of all these
things, and so destroy all human testimony, as scruple the
genuineness of the sacred writings ; for never were any
writings conveyed down with so good evidence of their
being genuine and uncorrupted as these. Upon their first
publication they were put into all hands, they were scat-
tered into all nations, translated into various languages,
and all perused them; either to be taught by them, or to
cavil at them. And ever since, they have been quoted
by thousands of authors, appealed to by all parties of
Christians, as the supreme judge of controversies ; and
not only the enemies of Christianity have carefully

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 105

watched them to detect any alterations which pious fraud
might attempt to make, but one sect of Christians has
kept a watchful eye over the other, lest they should alter
anything in favour of their own cause. And it is matter
of astonishment as well as conviction, that all the various
copies and translations of the Scriptures in different nations
and libraries are substantially the same, and differ only in
matters of small moment; so that from the worst copy of
translation in the world, one might easily learn the sub-
stance of Christianity.

Or will our infidels insist to be eye-witnesses of these
facts ? Must one arise from the dead, or new miracles be
wrought to convince them by ocular demonstration ?
This is a most unreasonable demand, for (1.) The contin-
uance of miracles in every age would be attended with
numerous inconveniences. For example, Multitudes must
be born blind, deaf, or dumb ; multitudes must be afflicted
with incurable diseases, and possessed by evil spirits; mul-
titudes must be disturbed in the sleep of death ; and all
the laws of nature must be made precarious and fickle, in
order to leave room for miraculous operations; and all
this to humour a company of obstinate infidels, who would
not believe upon less striking though entirely sufficient
evidence. (2.) The continuance of miracles from age to
age would destroy their very nature, to which it is essen-
tial, that they be rare and extraordinary; for what is
ordinary and frequent, we are apt to ascribe to the estab-
lished laws of nature, however wonderful it be in itself.
For example, if we saw dead bodies rise from their graves,
as often as we see vegetables spring from seed rotten in
the earth, we should be no more surprised at the one phe-
nomenon than we are at the other, and our virtuosi would
be equally busy to assign some natural cause for both.

And had we never seen the sun rise until this morning,
VOL. I.— 14.

106 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY

we should justly have accounted it as great a miracle as
any recorded in the Scriptures ; but because it is common,
we neglect it as a thing of course. Indeed, it is not any-
thing in the event itself, or in the degree of power neces-
sary for its accomplishment, that renders it miraculous,
but its being uncommon, and out of the ordinary course
of things ; for example, the generation of the human body
is not in itself less astonishing, nor does it require less
power than its resurrection : the revolution of the sun in
its regular course is as wonderful, and as much requires a
divine power, as its standing still in the days of Joshua.
But we acknowledge a miracle in the one case, but not in
the other, because the one is extraordinary, while the
other frequently occurs. Hence it follows, that the fre-
quent repetition of miracles, as often as men are pleased to
plead the want of evidence to excuse their infidelity, would
destroy their very nature : and consequently, to demand
their continuance is to demand an impossibility. But (3.)
Suppose that men should be indulged in this request, it
would not probably bring them to believe. If they are
unbelievers now, it is not for want of evidence, but through
wilful blindness and obstinacy; and as they that will shut
their eyes can see no more in meridian light than in the
twilight, so they that reject a sufficiency of evidence would
also resist a superfluity of it. Thus the Jews, who were
eye-witnesses of the miracles recorded in the Scriptures,
continued invincible infidels still. They had always some
trifling cavil ready to object against the brightest evidence.
And thus our modern infidels would no doubt evade the
force of the most miraculous attestation by some wretched
hypothesis or other ; they would look upon miracles either
as magical productions, or illusions of their senses; or
rather, as natural and necessary events, which they would
indeed have some reason to conclude, if they were fre-

OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 107

quently performed before their eyes. Some have pre-
tended to doubt of the existence and perfections of God,
notwithstanding the evidences thereof upon this magnifi-
cent structure of the universe ; and must God be always
creating new worlds before these obstinate creatures for
their conviction ? Such persons have as much reason to
demand it in this case, as our Deists have to insist for new
miracles in the other. I might add, that such glaring evi-
dence, as, like the light of the sun, would force itself
irresistibly upon the minds of the most reluctant, would
not leave room for us to show our regard to God in be-
lieving, for we should then believe from extrinsic neces-
sity, and not from choice. It is therefore most corres-
pondent to our present state of probation, that there
should be something in the evidence of a divine revelation
to try us ; something that might fully convince the teacha-
ble and yet not remove all umbrages for cavilling from the
obstinate.

Thus I have answered as many objections as the bounds
of a sermon would admit ; and I think they are the prin-
cipal ones which lie against my subject in the view I have
considered it. And as I have not designedly selected the
weakest, in order to an easy triumph, you may look upon
the answers that have been given as a ground of rational
presumption, that all other objections may be answered
with equal ease. Indeed, if they could not, it would not
invalidate the positive arguments in favour of Christianity ;
for when we have sufficient positive evidence for a thing,
we do not reject it because it is attended with some diffi-
culties which we cannot solve.

My time will allow me to make but two or three short
reflections upon the whole.

1. If the religion of Jesus be attested with such full
evidence, and be sufficient to conduct men to everlasting

108 THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.

felicity, then how helpless are they that have enjoyed it
all their life without profit : who either reject it as false,
or have not felt its power to reform their hearts and lives 1
It is the last remedy provided for a guilty world ; and if
this fails, their disease is incurable, and they are not to ex-
pect better means.

2. If the religion of Jesus be true, then woe unto the
wicked of all sorts : woe to infidels, both practical and
speculative, for all the curses of it are in full force against
them, and I need not tell you how dreadful they are.

3. If the religion of Jesus be true, then I congratulate
such of you, whose hearts and lives are habitually con-
formed to it, and who have ventured your everlasting all
upon it. You build upon a sure foundation, and your
hope shall never make you ashamed.

Finally, Let us all strive to become rational and practi-
cal believers of this heaven-born religion. Let our under-
standings be more rationally and thoroughly convinced of
its truth ; and our hearts and lives be more and more con-
formed to its purity ; and ere long we shall receive those
glorious rewards it insures to all its sincere disciples;
which may God grant to us all for Jesus1 sake ; AMEN !

METHOD OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 109

SERMON II.

THE METHOD OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST.

JOHN iii. 16. — For God so loved the world, that he gave
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him,
should not perish, but have everlasting life.

I HAVE been solicitously thinking in what way my life,
redeemed from the grave, may be of most service to
my dear people. And I would collect all the feeble re-
mains of my strength into one vigorous effort this day, to
promote this benevolent end. If I knew what subject has
the most direct tendency to save your souls, that is the
subject to which my heart would cling with peculiar en-
dearment, and which I would make the matter of the
present discourse.

And when I consider I am speaking to an assembly of
sinners, guilty, depraved, helpless creatures, and that, if
ever you be saved, it will be only through Jesus Christ, in
that way which the gospel reveals; when I consider that
your everlasting life and happiness turn upon this hinge,
namely, the reception you give to this Saviour, and this
way of salvation ; I say, when I consider these things, I
can think of no subject I can more properly choose than
to recommend the Lord Jesus to your acceptance, and to
explain and inculcate the method of salvation through his
mediation ; or, in other words, to preach the pure gos-
pel to you; for the gospel, in the most proper sense, is
nothing else but a revelation of a way of salvation for sin-
ners of Adam's race.

110 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

My text furnishes me with proper materials for my pur-
pose. Let heaven and earth hear it with wonder, joy,
and raptures of praise ! God so loved the world, that he
gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever, or that every
one that believeth in him should not perish, but have ever-
lasting life.

This is a part of the most important evening conversa-
tion that ever was held ; I mean, that between Christ and
Nicodemus, a Pharisee and ruler of the Jews. Our Lord
first instructs him in the doctrine of regeneration, that
grand constituent of a Christian, and pre-requisite to our
admission in the kingdom of heaven ; and then he pro-
ceeds to inform him of the gospel-method of salvation,
which contains these two grand articles, the death of
Christ, as the great foundation of blessedness ; and faith in
him, as the great qualification upon the part of the sinner.
He presents this important doctrine to us in various forms,
with a very significant repetition. As Moses lifted up the
Serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be
lifted up ; that is, hung on high on a cross, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting
life-. Then follows my text, which expresses the same
doctrine with great force : God so loved the world, that
he gave his only begotten Son, gave him up to death, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life. He goes on to mention a wonder. This
earth is a rebellious province of Jehovah's dominions, and
therefore if his Son should ever visit it, one would think it
would be as an angry judge, or as the executioner of his
Father's vengeance. But, O astonishing ! God sent not his
Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the
world through him might be saved. Hence the terms
of life and death are thus fixed. He that believeth on
him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is

I

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. Ill

comdemned already, because he hath not believed in the
name of the only begotten Son of God. Sure the heavenly
rivers of pleasure flow in these verses. Never, methinks,
was there so much gospel expressed in so few words.
Here, take the gospel in miniature, and bind it to your
hearts for ever. These verses alone, methinks, are a suf-
ficient remedy for a dying world.

The truths I would infer from the text for present im-
provement are these : that without Christ you are all in a
perishing condition; that through Jesus Christ a way is
opened for your salvation; that the grand pre-requisite to
your being saved in this way, is faith in Jesus Christ; that
every one, without exception, whatever his former charac-
ter has been, that is enabled to comply with this pre-
requisite, shall certainly be saved; and that the constitu-
tion of this method of salvation, or the mission of Christ
into our world, as the Saviour of sinners, is a most strik-
ing and astonishing instance and display of the love of God.

I. My text implies, that without Christ you are all in a
perishing condition. This holds true of you in particular,
because it holds true of the world universally; for the
world was undoubtedly in a perishing condition without
Christ, and none but he could relieve it, otherwise God
would never have given his only begotten Son to save it.
God is not ostentatious or prodigal of his gifts, especially
of so inestimable a gift as his Son, whom he loves infinitely
more than the whole creation. So great, so dear a per-
son would not have been sent upon a mission which could
have been discharged by any other being. Thousands of
rams must bleed in sacrifice, or ten thousands of rivers of
oil must flow; our first-born must die for our transgres-
sions, and the fruit of our body for the sin of our souls; or
Gabriel, or some of the upper ranks of angels, must leave
their thrones, and hang upon a cross, if such methods of

112 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

salvation had been sufficient. All this would have been
nothing in comparison of the only begotten Son of God
leaving his native heaven, and all its glories, assuming our
degraded nature, spending thirty-three long and tedious
years in poverty, disgrace, and persecution, dying as a
malefactor and a slave in the midst of ignominy and tor-
ture, and lying a mangled breathless corpse in the grave.
We may be sure there was the highest degree of necessity
for it, otherwise God would not have given up his dear
Son to such a horrid scene of sufferings.

This, then, was the true state of the world, and conse-
quently yours without Christ; it was hopeless and des-
perate in every view. In that situation there would not
have been so much goodness in the world as to try the
efficacy of sacrifices, prayers, tears, reformation, and re-
pentance, or they would have been tried in vain. It
would have been inconsistent with the honour of the divine
perfections and government, to admit sacrifices, prayers,
tears, repentance, and reformation, as a sufficient atone-
ment.

What a melancholy view of the world have we now
before us! WTe know the state of mankind only under
the gracious government of a Mediator; and we but
seldom realize what our miserable condition would have
been, had this gracious administration never been set
up. But exclude a Saviour in your thoughts for a mo-
ment, and then take a view of the world — helpless ! hope-
less ! — under the righteous displeasure of God ; and des-
pairing of relief! — the very suburbs of hell! the range of
malignant devils ! the region of guilt, misery, and des-
pair ! — the mouth of the infernal pit ! — the gate of hell ! —
This would have been the condition of our world had it
not been for that Jesus who redeemed it; and yet in this
very world he is neglected and despised.

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 113

But you will ask me, " How it comes that the world
was in such an undone, helpless, hopeless condition with-
out Christ ; or what are the reasons of all this ?"

The true account of this will appear from these two
considerations, that all mankind are sinners; and that no
other method but the mediation of Christ could render
the salvation of sinners consistent with the honour of the
divine perfections and government, with the public good,
and even with the nature of things.

All mankind are sinners. This is too evident to need
proof. They are sinners, rebels against the greatest
and best of beings, against their Maker, their liberal Bene-
factor, and their rightful Sovereign, to whom they are
under stronger and more endearing obligations than they
can be under to any creature, or even to the entire system
of creatures ; sinners, rebels in every part of our guilty
globe; none righteous, no, not one; all sinners, without
exception : sinners from age to age for thousands of years :
thousands, millions, innumerable multitudes of sinners.
What an obnoxious race is this ! There appears no dif-
ficulty in the way of justice to punish such creatures.
But what seeming insuperable difficulties appear in the
way of their salvation ! Let me mention a few of them
to recommend that blessed Saviour who has removed
them all.

If such sinners be saved, how shall the holiness and jus-
tice of God be displayed ? How shall he give an honor-
able view of himself to all worlds as a being of perfect
purity, and an enemy to all moral evil ?

If such sinners be saved, how shall the honor of the
divine government and law be secured ? How will the
dignity of the law appear, if a race of rebels may trifle
with it with impunity ? What a sorry law must that be

that has no sanctions, or whose sanctions may be dis-
VOL. I.— 15

114 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

pensed with at pleasure ? What a contemptible govern-
ment, that may be insulted and rejected, and the offender
admitted into favour without exemplary punishment ? No
government can subsist upon such principles of excessive
indulgence.

How can such sinners be saved, and yet the good of
the public secured, which is always the end of every wise
and good ruler 1 By the public good I do not mean the
happiness of mankind alone, but I mean the happiness of
all worlds of reasonable creatures collectively, in compari-
son of which the happiness of mankind alone may be only
a private interest, which should always give way to the
public good. Now sin has a direct tendency, not only
according to law, but according to the nature of things, to
scatter misery and ruin wherever its infection reaches.
Therefore the public good cannot properly be consulted
without giving a loud and effectual warning against all sin,
and dealing with offenders in such a manner as to deter
others from offending. But how can this be done ? How
can the sinner be saved, and yet the evil of sin displayed,
and all other beings be deterred from it for ever ? How
can sin be discouraged by pardoning it? its evil displayed
by letting the criminal escape punishment ? These are
such difficulties, that nothing but divine wisdom could ever
surmount them.

These difficulties lie in the way of a mere pardon, and
exemption from punishment : but salvation includes more
than this. When sinners are saved, they are not only
pardoned, but received into high favour, made the child-
ren, the friends, the courtiers of the King of heaven.
They are not only delivered from punishment, but also
advanced to a state of perfect positive happiness, and
nothing short of this can render such creatures as we
happy. Now, in this view, the difficulties rise still higher,

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 115

and it is the more worthy of observation, as this is not
generally the case in human governments; and as men are
apt to form their notions of the divine government by
human, they are less sensible of these difficulties. Sut
this is indeed the true state of the case here ; how can the
sinner be not only delivered from punishment, but also
advanced to a state of perfect happiness ? not only escape
the displeasure of his offended Sovereign, but be received
into full favour, and advanced to the highest honour and
dignity ; how can this be done without casting a cloud
over the purity and justice of the Lord of all ; without
sinking his law and government into contempt; without
diminishing the evil of sin, and emboldening others to
venture upon it, and so at once injuring the character of
the supreme Ruler, and the public good ? How can
sinners, I say, be saved without the salvation being attended
with these bad consequences ?

And here you must remember, that these consequences
must be provided against. To save men at random,
without considering the consequences, to distribute happi-
ness to private persons with an undistinguishing hand, this
would be at once inconsistent with the character of the
supreme Magistrate of the universe, and with the public
good. Private persons are at liberty to forgive private
offences; nay, it is their duty to forgive; and they can
hardly offend by way of excess in the generous virtues of
mercy and compassion. But the case is otherwise with a
magistrate; he is obliged to consult the dignity of his
government and the interest of the public; and he may
easily carry his lenity to a very dangerous extreme, and
by his tenderness to criminals do an extensive injury to the
state. This is particularly the case with regard to the
great God, the universal supreme Magistrate of all worlds.
And this ought to be seriously considered by those men

116 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

of loose principles among us, who look upon God only
under the fond character of a father, or a being of infinite
mercy ; and thence conclude, they have little to fear from
him for all their audacious iniquities. There is no abso-
lute necessity that sinners should be saved : justice may
be suffered to take place upon them. But there is the
most absolute necessity that the Ruler of the world should
both be, and appear to be holy and just. There is the
most absolute necessity that he should support the dignity
of his government, and guard it from contempt, that he
should strike all worlds with a proper horror of sin, and
represent it in its genuine infernal colours, and so consult
the good of the whole, rather than a part. There is, I
say, the highest and most absolute necessity for these
things; and they cannot be dispensed with as matters of
arbitrary pleasure. And unless these ends can be answered
in the salvation of men, they cannot be saved at all. No,
they must all perish, rather than God should act out of
character, as the supreme Magistrate of the universe, or
bestow private favours to criminals, to the detriment of the
public.

And in this lay the difficulty. Call a council of all the
sages and wise men of the world, and they can never get
over this difficulty, without borrowing assistance from the
gospel. Nay, this, no doubt, puzzled all the angelic in-
telligences, who pry so deep into the mysteries of heaven,
before the gospel was fully revealed. — Methinks the
angels, when they saw the fall of man, gave him up as
desperate. " Alas ! (they cried) the poor creature is gone !
he and all his numerous race are lost for ever." This,
they knew, had been the doom of their fellow-angels that
sinned : and could they hope better for man ? Then they
had not seen any of the wonders of pardoning love and
mercy, and could they have once thought that the glorious

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 117

>y

person, who filled the middle throne, and was their
Creator and Lord, would ever become a man, and die,
like a criminal, to redeem an inferior rank of creatures?
No, this thought they would probably have shuddered at
as blasphemy.

And must we then give up ourselves and all our race
as lost beyond recovery? There are huge and seem-
ingly insuperable difficulties in the way; and we have seen
that neither men nor angels can prescribe any relief.
But, sing, 0 ye heavens, for the LORD hath done it : shout,
ye lower parts of the earth: break forth into singing, ye
mountains, 0 forest, and every tree therein ; for the LORD
hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel, Isaiah
xliv. 23. Which leads me to add,

II. My text implies, that through Jesus Christ a way
is opened for your salvation. He, and he only was found
equal to the undertaking; and before him all these moun-
tains became a plain; all these difficulties vanish; and now
God can be just, can secure the dignity of his character,
as the Ruler of the world, and answer all the ends of
government, and yet justify and save the sinner that be-
lie veth in Jesus.

This is plainly implied in this glorious epitome of the
gospel : God so loved the world, that he gave his only be-
gotten Son, that whoever believeth in him should not perish,
but have everlasting life. Without this gift all was lost :
but now, whosoever believeth in him may be saved; saved
in a most honourable way. This will appear more par-
ticularly, if we consider the tendency the mediation of
Christ had to remove the difficulties mentioned. But I
would premise two general remarks.

The first is, That God being considered in this affair in
his public character, as Supreme Magistrate, or Governor
of the world, all the punishment which he is concerned to

118 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

see inflicted upon sin is only such as answers the ends of
government. Private revenge must vent itself on the very
person of the offender, or be disappointed. But to a
ruler, as such, it may in some cases be indifferent, whether
the punishment be sustained by the very person that
offended, or by a substitute suffering in his stead. It may
also be indifferent whether the very same punishment, as
to kind and degree, threatened in the law, be inflicted, or
a punishment equivalent to it. If the honour of the ruler
and his government be maintained, if all disobedience be
properly discountenanced; if, in short, all the ends of
government can be answered, such things as these are in-
differences. Consequently, if these ends should be an-
swered by Christ's suffering in the stead of sinners, there
would be no objection against it. This remark introduces
another, namely, (2.) That Jesus Christ was such a per-
son that his suffering as the substitute or surety of sinners,
answered all the ends of government which could be
answered by the execution of the punishment upon the
sinners themselves. To impose suffering upon the in-
nocent, when uuwilling, is unjust; but Jesus was willing
to undertake the dreadful task. And besides, he was a
person (sui juris) at his own disposal, his own property,
and therefore he had a right to dispose of his life as he
pleased ; and there was a merit in his consenting to that
which he was not obliged to previous to his consent. He
was also a person of infinite dignity, and infinitely beloved
by his Father; and these considerations rendered the
merit of his sufferings for a short time, and another kind
of punishment than that of hell, equal, more than equal to
the everlasting sufferings of sinners themselves. Jesus
Christ was also above law; that is, not obliged to be sub-
ject to that law which he had made for his creatures, and
consequently his obedience to the law, not being necessary

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 119

for himself, might be imputed' to others: whereas creatures
are incapable of works of supererogation, or of doing
more than they are bound to do, being obliged to obey
their divine law-giver for themselves to the utmost extent
of their abilities, and consequently their obedience, how-
ever perfect, can be sufficient only for themselves, but
cannot be imputed to others. Thus it appears, in general,
that the ends of government are as effectually answered
by the sufferings of Christ in the room of sinners, as they
could be by the everlasting punishment of the sinners
themselves; nay, we shall presently find they are answered
in a more striking and illustrious manner. To mention
particulars :

Was it necessary that the holiness and justice of God
should be displayed in the salvation of sinners? See how
bright they shine in a suffering Saviour ! Now it appears
that such is the holiness and justice of God, that he will
not let even his own Son escape unpunished, when he
stands in the law-place of sinners, though guilty only by
the slight stain (may I so speak) of imputation. Could
the execution of everlasting punishment upon the hateful
criminals themselves ever give so bright a display of these
attributes? It were impossible. Again,

Was it a difficulty to save sinners, and yet maintain the
rights of the divine government, and the honour of the
law ? See how this difficulty is removed by the obedience
and death of Christ ! Now it appears, that the rights of
the divine government are so sacred and inviolable, that
they must be maintained, though the darling Son of God
should fall a sacrifice to justice ; and that not one offence
against this government can be pardoned, without his
making a full atonement. Now it appears, that the
Supreme Ruler is not to be trifled with, but that his in-
jured honour must be repaired, though at the expense of

120 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

his Son's blood and life. Now, the precept of the law is
perfectly obeyed in every part, and a full equivalent to its
penalty endured, by a person of infinite dignity; and it is
only upon this footing, that is, of complete satisfaction to
all the demands of the law, that any of the rebellious sons
of men can be restored into favour. This is a satisfaction
which Christ alone could give: to sinners it is utterly im-
possible, either by doing or suffering. They cannot do
all the things that are written in the law; nor can they en-
dure its penalty, without being for ever miserable : and
therefore the law has received a more complete satisfaction
in Christ than it would ever receive from the offenders
themselves. Further,

- Was it a difficulty how sinners might be saved, and yet
the evil of sin be displayed in all its horrors? Go to the
cross of Christ; there, ye fools, that make a mock of sin,
there learn its malignity, and its hatefulness to the great
God. There you may see it is so great an evil, that when
it is but imputed to the man, that is God's fellow, as the
surety of sinners, it cannot escape punishment. No, when
that dreadful stain lay upon him, immediately the com-
mission was given to divine justice, Awake, 0 sword,
against my Shepherd, and against the man that is my fel-
low, saith the LORD of hosts; smite the Shepherd. Zech.
xiii. 7. — When Christ stood in the room of sinners, even
the Father spared not his own Son, but gave him up to
death. That the criminals themselves, who are an in-
ferior race of creatures, should not escape would not be
strange : but what an enormous evil must that be, which
cannot be connived at even in the favourite of heaven, the
only begotten Son of God ! Surely nothing besides could
give so striking a display of its malignity !

Was it a difficulty how to reconcile the salvation of sin-
ners, and the public good ? that is, how to forgive sins, and

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 121

yet give an effectual warning against it ? How to receive
the sinner into favour, and advance him to the highest
honour and happiness, and in the mean time deter all other
beings from offending? All this is provided for in the
sufferings of Christ as a surety. Let all worlds look to
his cross, and receive the warning which his wounds, and
groans, and blood, and dying agonies proclaim aloud ; and
sure they can never dare to offend after the example of
man. Now they may see that the only instance of par-
don to be found in the universe was brought about by
such means as are not likely to be repeated ; by the incar-
nation and death of the Lord of glory. And can they
flatter themselves that he will leave his throne and hang
upon a cross, as often as any of his creatures wantonly
dare to offend him? No; such a miracle as this, the ut-
most effort of divine grace, is not often to be renewed;
and therefore, if they dare to sin, it is at their peril.
They have no reason to flatter themselves they shall be
favoured like fallen man ; but rather to expect they shall
share in the doom of the fallen angels.

Or if they should think sin may escape with but a
slight punishment, here they may be convinced of the con-
trary. If the Darling of heaven, the Lord of glory, though
personally innocent, suffers so much when sin is but im-
puted to him, what shall the sinners themselves feel, who
can claim no favour upon the footing of their own import-
ance, or personal innocence ? If these things be done " in
the green tree, what shall be done in the dry ?"

Thus, my brethren, you may see how a way is opened
through Jesus Christ for our salvation. All the ends of
government may be answered, and yet you pardoned, and
made happy. Those attributes of the divine nature, such
as mercy and justice, which seemed to clash, are now

reconciled ; now they mingle their beams, and both shine
VOL. I.— 16

122 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

4

with a brighter glory in the salvation of sinners, than
either of them could apart. And must you not acknow-
ledge this divine God-like scheme ? Can you look round
you over the works of the creation, and see the divine
wisdom in every object, and can you not perceive the
divine agency in this still more glorious work of redemp-
tion ? Redemption, which gives a full view of the Deity,
not as the sun in eclipse, half dark, half bright, but as

A God all o'er consummate, absolute,

Full orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete. — YOUNG.

And shall not men and angels join in wonder and praise
at the survey of this amazing scheme ? Angels are wrapt
in wonder and praise, and will be so to all eternity. See !
how they pry into this mystery! hark! how they sing!
" Glory to God in the highest ;" and celebrate the Lamb
that was slain ! and shall not men, who are personally
interested in the affair, join with them ? Oh ! are there
none to join with them in this assembly? Surely, none
can refuse !

Now, since all obstructions are removed on God's part,
that lay in the way of our salvation, why should we not
all be saved together? What is there to hinder our
crowding into heaven promiscuously ? Or what is there
requisite on our part, in order to make us partakers of this
salvation ? , Here it is proper to pass on to the next truth
inferred from the text, namely :

III. That the grand pre-requisite to your being saved
in this way, is faith in Jesus Christ. Though the obstruc-
tions on God's part are removed by the death of Christ,
yet there is one remaining in the sinner, which cannot be
removed without his consent ; and which, while it remains,
renders his salvation impossible in the nature of things ;
that is, the depravity and corruption of his nature. Till

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 123

this is cured, he cannot relish those fruitions and employ-
ments in which the happiness of heaven consists, and con-
sequently he cannot be happy there. Therefore there is
a necessity, in the very nature of things, that he should be'
made holy, in order to be saved ; nay, his salvation itself
consists in holiness. Now, faith is the root of all holiness
in a sinner. Without a firm realizing belief of the great
truths of the gospel, it is impossible a sinner should be
sanctified by their influence : and without a particular faith
in Jesus Christ he cannot derive from him those sanctifying
influences by which alone he can be made holy, and which
are conveyed through Jesus Christ, and through him alone.

Further : It would be highly incongruous, and indeed
impossible, to save a sinner against his will, or in a way
he dislikes. Now faith, as you shall see presently, prin-
cipally consists in .a hearty consent to and approbation of
the way of salvation through Jesus Christ, the only way
in which a sinner can be saved consistently with the divine
honour : so that the constitution of the gospel is not only
just, but as merciful as it can be, when it ordains that only
he that believeth shall be saved ; but that he that believeth
not, shall be damned.

Again : We cannot be saved through Jesus Christ, till
his righteousness be so far made ours as that it will answer
the demands of the laws for us, and procure the favour of
God to us; but his righteousness cannot be thus im-
puted to us, or accounted ours in law, till we are so united
to him as to be one in law, or one legal person with
him. Now faith is the bond of union ; faith is that which
interests us in Christ; and therefore without faith we can-
not receive any benefit from his righteousness.

Here then a most interesting inquiry presents itself:
" What is it to believe in Jesus Christ ? or what is that
faith which is the grand pre-requisite to salvation 1" If

124 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

you are capable of attention to the most interesting affair
in all the world, attend to this with the utmost seriousness
and solemnity.

Faith in Christ includes something speculative in it;
that is, it includes a speculative rational belief, upon the
testimony of God, that Jesus Christ is the only Saviour
of men. But yet it is not entirely a speculation, like the
faith of multitudes among us : it is a more practical, expe-
rimental thing ; and that you may understand its nature,
you must take notice of the following particulars.

(1.) Faith pre-supposes a deep sense of our undone,
helpless condition. I told you before, this is the condition
of the woVld without Christ ; and you must be sensible at
heart that this is your condition in particular, before you
can believe in him as your Saviour. He came to be a
Saviour in a desperate case, when no relief could possibly
be had from any other quarter, and you cannot receive
him under that character till you feel yourselves in such a
case ; therefore, in order to your believing, all your pleas
and excuses for your sins must be silenced, all your high
conceit of your own goodness must be mortified, all your
dependence upon your own righteousness, upon the merit of
your prayers, your repentance, and good works, must be
cast down, and you must feel that indeed you lie at mercy,
that God may justly reject you for ever, and that all you
can do can bring him under no obligation to save you.
These things you must be deeply sensible of, otherwise
you can never receive the Lord Jesus Christ in that view in
which he is proposed to you, namely, as a Saviour in a
desperate case.

I wish and pray you may this day see yourselves in this
true, though mortifying light. It is the want of this sense
of things that keeps such crowds of persons unbelievers
among us. It is the want of this that causes the Lord

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 125

Jesus to be so little esteemed, so little sought for, so little
desired among us. In short, it is the want of this that is
the great occasion of so many perishing from under the
gospel, and, as it were, from between the hands of a
Saviour. It is this, alas! that causes them to perish, like
the impenitent thief on the cross, with a Saviour by their
side. O that you once rightly knew yourselves, you
would then soon know Jesus Christ, and receive salvation
from his hand.

(2.) Faith implies the enlightening of the understand-
ing to discover the suitableness of Jesus Christ as a
Saviour, and the excellency of the way of salvation
through him. While the sinner lies undone and helpless
in himself, and looking about in vain for some relief, it
pleases a gracious God to shine into his heart, and ena-
bles him to see his glory in the face of Jesus Christ.
Now this once neglected Saviour appears not only abso-
lutely necessary, but also all-glorious and lovely, and the
sinner's heart is wrapt away, and for ever captivated with
his beauty : now the neglected gospel appears in a new
light, as different from all his former apprehensions as if it
were quite another thing. I have not time at present to
enlarge upon this discovery of Christ and the gospel which
faith includes; and indeed should I dwell upon it ever so
long, I could not convey just ideas of it to such of you as
have never had the happy experience of it. In short, the
Lord Jesus, and the way of salvation through him, appear
perfectly suitable, all-sufficient, and all-glorious : and in
consequence of this,

(3.) The sinner is enabled to embrace this Saviour with
all his heart, and to give a voluntary, cheerful consent to
this glorious scheme of salvation. Now all his former un-
willingness and reluctance are subdued, and his heart no
more draws back from the terms of the gospel, but he

126 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

complies with them, and that not merely out of constraint
and necessity, but out of free choice, and with the great-
est pleasure and delight. How does his heart now cling
to the blessed Jesus with the most affectionate endearment !
How is he lost in wonder, joy, and gratitude, at the survey
of the divine perfections, as displayed in this method of
redemption ! How does he rejoice in it, as not only bring-
ing happiness to him, but glory to God ; as making his sal-
vation not only consistent with, but a bright illustration of,
the divine perfections, and the dignity of his government !
While he had no other but the low and selfish principles
of corrupt nature, he had no concern about the honour of
God ; if he might be but saved, it was all he was solici-
tous about : but now he has a noble, generous heart ; now
he is concerned that God should be honoured in his salva-
tion, and this method of salvation is recommended and en-
deared to him by the thought that it secures to God the
supremacy, and makes his salvation subservient to the
divine glory.

(4.) Faith in Jesus Christ implies an humble trust or
dependence upon him alone for the pardon of sin, accept-
ance with God, and every blessing. As I told you before,
the sinner's self-confidence is mortified; he gives up all
hopes of acceptance upon the footing of his own right-
eousness; he is filled with self-despair, and yet he does
not despair absolutely; he does not give up himself as
lost, but has cheerful hopes of becoming a child of God,
and being for ever happy, guilty and unworthy as he
is; and what are these hopes founded upon? Why,
upon the mere free grace and mercy of God, through
the righteousness of Jesus Christ. On this he ven-
tures a guilty, unworthy, helpless soul, and finds it a
firm, immovable foundation, while every other ground of
dependence proves but a quicksand. There are many

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 127

that flatter themselves they put their trust in God ; but
their trust wants sundry qualifications essential to a true
faith. It is not the trust of an humble helpless soul that
draws all its encouragement from the mere mercy of God,
and the free indefinite offer of the gospel; but it is the
presumptuous trust of a proud self-confident sinner, who
draws his encouragement in part at least from his imagi-
nary goodness and importance. It is not a trust in the
mercy of God through Jesus Christ, as the only medium
through which it can be honourably conveyed ; but either
in the absolute mercy of God, without a proper refer-
ence to a Mediator, or in his mercy, as in some measure
deserved or moved by something in the sinner. Examine
whether your trust in God will stand this test.

I have now given you a brief answer to that grand ques-
tion, What is it to believe in Jesus Christ? and I hope you
understand it, though I have not enlarged so much upon
it as I willingly would. I shall only add, that this faith
may also be known by its inseparable effects ; which are
such as follow. Faith purifies the heart, and is a lively
principle of inward holiness. Faith is always productive
of good works, and leads us to universal obedience : faith
overcomes the world and all its temptations : faith realizes
eternal things, and brings them near ; and hence it is de-
fined by the apostle, The substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen. Heb. xi. 1. Here I have
a very important question to propose to you : Who among
you can say, " Well, notwithstanding all my imperfections,
and all my doubts and fears, I cannot but humbly hope,
after the best examination I can make, that such a faith
has been produced in this heart of mine ?" And can you
say so indeed? Then I bring you glad tidings of great
joy; you shall be saved: yes, saved you shall be, in spite
of earth and hell; saved, however great your past sins

128 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

have been. Which thought introduces the glorious truth
that comes next in order, namely : —

IV. My text implies, that every one, without exception,
whatever his former character has been, that is enabled to
believe in Jesus Christ, shall certainly be saved.

The number or aggravations of sins do not alter the
case; and the reason is, the sinner is not received into
favour, in whole or in part, upon the account of any thing
personal, but solely and entirely upon the account of the
righteousness of Jesus Christ. Now, this righteousness is
perfectly equal to all the demands of the law; and there-
fore, when this righteousness is made over to the sinner as
his by imputation, the law has no more demands upon him
for great sins than for small, for many than for few ; be-
cause all demands are fully satisfied by the obedience of
Jesus Christ to the law. You see that sinners of all cha-
racters who believe in him are put upon an equality in this
respect : they are all admitted upon one common footing,
the righteousness of Christ ; and that is as sufficient for one
as another.

This encouraging truth has the most abundant support
from the Holy Scriptures. Observe the agreeable indefi-
nite whosoever so often repeated. " Whosoever believeth
in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life." W^ho-
soever he be, however vile, however guilty, however un-
worthy, if he does but believe, he shall not perish, but
have everlasting life. What an agreeable assurance is this
from the lips of him who has the final states of men at his
disposal ! The same blessed lips have also declared, Him
that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out. John vi. 37.
And Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.
Rev. xxii. 17. He has given you more than bare words
to establish you in the belief of this truth ; upon this prin-
ciple he has acted, choosing some of the most abandoned

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 129

sinners to make them examples, not of his justice, as we
might expect, but of his mercy, for the encouragement of
others. In the days of his flesh he was reproached by his
enemies for his friendship to publicans and sinners; but
sure it is, instead of reproaching, we must love him on this
account. When he rose from the dead, he did not rise
with angry resentment against his murderers; no, but he
singles them out from a world of sinners, to make them
the first offers of pardon through the blood which they
had just shed. He orders that repentance and remission
of sins should be preached in his name among all nations,
beginning at Jerusalem. Luke xxiv. 47. At Jerusalem,
where he had been crucified a few days before, there he
orders the first publication of pardon and life to be made.
You1 may see what monsters of sin he chose to make the
monuments of his grace in Corinth. Neither fornicators,
nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers
of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor
drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the
kingdom of God. What a dismal catalogue is this ! It
is no wonder such a crew should not inherit the kingdom
of heaven ; they are fit only for the infernal prison ; and
yet astonishing ! it follows, such were some of you ; but ye
are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified, in the
name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.
1 Cor. vi. 9— 11. What sinner after this can despair of
mercy upon his believing in Jesus ! St. Paul was another
instance of the same kind : " This," says he, " is a faithful
saying," a saying that may be depended on as true, " and
worthy of all acceptation," from a guilty world, that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners ; of whom I am
chief. Howbeit,for this cause I obtained mercy, that in
me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long suffering,
for a pattern to them which should hereafter believe in him
Vom I.— 17

130 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

to life everlasting. 1 Tim. i. 15, 16. A sinner of less size
would not have answered this end so well ; but if Saul the
persecutor obtains mercy upon his believing, wjio can de-
spair?

You see upon the whole, my brethren, you are not ex-
cluded from Christ and life by the greatness of your sins ;
but if you perish it must be from another cause : it must
be on account of your wilful unbelief in not accepting of
Jesus Christ as your Saviour. If you reject him, then in-
deed you must perish, however small your sins have been ;
for it is only his death that can make atonement for the
slightest guilt; and if you have no interest in that, the
guilt of the smallest sin will sink you into ruin.

Here is a door wide enough for you all, if you will but
enter in by faith. Come, then, enter in, you that have
hitherto claimed a horrid precedence in sin, that have
been ringleaders in vice, come now take the lead, and
show others the way to Jesus Christ; harlots, publicans,
thieves, and murderers, if such be among you, there is
salvation even for you, if you will but believe. Oh ! how
astonishing is the love of God discovered in this way : a
consideration which introduces the last inference from my
text, namely,

V. That the constitution of this method of salvation, or
the mission of a Saviour into our world, is a most striking
and astonishing display of the love of God : — God so loved
the world as to give his only begotten Son, &c.

View the scheme all through, and you will discover
love, infinite love, in every part of it. Consider the great
God as self-happy and independent upon all his creatures,
and what but love, self-moved love, could excite him to
make such provision for an inferior part of them! Con-
sider the world sunk in sin, not only without merit, but

most deserving of everlasting punishment, and what but

* ,

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 131

love could move him to have mercy upon such a world ?
Consider the Saviour provided, not an angel, not the
highest creature, but his Son, his only begotten Son; and
what but love could move him to appoint such a Saviour 1
Consider the manner in which he was sent, as a gift, a
free unmerited gift; "God gave his only begotten Son:"
And what but infinite love could give such an unspeakable
gift? Consider the blessings conferred through this
Saviour, deliverance from perdition and the enjoyment of
everlasting life, and what but the love of God could confer
such blessings? Consider the condition upon which these
blessings are offered, faith, that humble, self-emptied grace,
so suitable to the circumstances of a poor sinner, that
brings nothing, but receives all, and what but divine love
could make such a gracious appointment? It is of faith,
that it might be by grace. Rom. iv. 16. Consider the in-
definite extent or the universality of the offer, which takes
in sinners of the vilest character, and excepts against
none : Whosoever believeth shall not perish, &c. Oh what
love is this! But I must leave it as the theme of your
meditations, not only in the house of your pilgrimage,
but through all eternity: eternity will be short enough to
pry into this mystery, and it will employ the understandings
of men and angels through the revolutions of eternal ages.
And now, my brethren, to draw towards a conclusion,
I would hold a treaty with you this day about the recon-
ciliation to God through Jesus Christ. I have this day
set life and death before you: I have opened to you the
method of salvation through Jesus Christ: the only method
in which you can be saved; the only method that could
afford a gleam of hope to such a sinner as I in my late
approach to the eternal world.* And now I would bring

* This sermon was preached a little after recovery from a severe fit of
sickness, and is dated Hanover, October 2, 1757.

132

the matter home, and propose it to you all to consent to
be saved in this method, or, in other words, to believe in
the only begdtten Son of God; this proposal I seriously
make to you: and let heaven and earth, and your own
consciences, witness that it is made to you: I also insist
for a determinate answer this day; the matter will not ad-
mit of a delay, and the duty is so plain, that there is no
need of time to deliberate. A Roman ambassador, treat-
ing about peace with the ambassador of a neighbouring
state, if I remember rightly, and finding him desirous to
gain time by shuffling and tedious negotiations, drew a
circle about him, and said, " I demand an answer before
you go out of this circle." Such a circle let the walls of
this house, or the extent of my voice, be to you: before
you leave this house, or go out of hearing, I insist on a
full, decisive answer of this proposal, Whether you will be-
lieve in Jesus Christ this day, or not ?

But before I proceed any farther, I would remove one
stumbling-block out of your way. You are apt to object,
"You teach us that faith is the gift of God, and that we
cannot believe of ourselves; why then do you exhort us
to it? Or how can we be concerned to endeavour that
which it is impossible for us to do ?"

In answer to this I grant the premises are true; and
God forbid I should so much as intimate that faith is the
spontaneous growth of corrupt nature, or that you can
come to Christ without the Father's drawing you : but the
conclusions you draw from these premises are very
erroneous. I exhort and persuade you to believe in
Jesus Christ, because it is while such means are used
with sinners, and by the use of them, that it pleases God
to enable them to comply, or to work faith in them. I
would therefore use those means which God is pleased
to bless for this end. I exhort you to believe in order to

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 133

set you upon the trial ; for it is putting it to trial, and that
only, which can fully convince you of your own inability
to believe; and till you are convinced of this, you can
never expect strength from God. I exhort you to believe,
because, sinful and enfeebled as you are, you are capable
of using various preparatives to faith. You may attend
upon prayer, hearing, and all the outward means of grace
with natural seriousness; you may endeavour to get ac-
quainted with your own helpless condition, and, as it
were, put yourselves in the way of divine mercy; and
though all these means cannot of themselves produce faith
in you, yet it is only in the use of these means you are
to expect divine grace to work it in you : never was it yet
produced in one soul, while lying supine, lazy, and in-
active.

I hope you now see good reasons why I should exhort
you to believe, and also perceive my design in it; I there-
fore renew the proposal to you, that you should this day,
as guilty, unworthy, self-despairing sinners, accept of the
only begotten Son of God as your Saviour, and fall in
with the gospel-method of salvation; and I once more de-
mand your answer. I would by no means, if possible,
leave the pulpit this day till I have effectually recom-
mended the blessed Jesus, my Lord and Master, to your
acceptance. I am strongly bound by the vows and reso-
lutions of a sick bed to recommend him to you; and now
I would endeavour to perform my vows. I would have
us all this day, before we part, consent to God's covenant,
that we may go away justified to our houses.

To this I persuade and exhort you, in the name and by
the authority of the great God, by the death of Jesus
Christ for sinners, by your own most urgent and absolute
necessity, by the immense blessings proposed in the gospel,
and by the heavy curse denounced against unbelievers.

134 THE METHOD OF SALVATION

All the blessings of the gospel, pardon of sin, sanctify-
ing grace, eternal life, and whatever you can want, shall
become yours this day, if you but believe in the Son of
God; then let desolation overrun our land, let public and
private calamities crowd upon you, and make you so
many Jobs for poverty and affliction, still your main in-
terest is secure; the storms and waves of trouble can only
bear you to heaven, and hasten your passage to the
harbour of eternal rest. Let devils accuse you before
God, let conscience indict you and bring you in guilty,
let the fiery law make its demands upon you, you have a
righteousness in Jesus Christ that is sufficient to answer
all demands, and having received it by faith, you may
plead it as your own in law. Happy souls ! rejoice in
hope of the glory of God, for your hope will never make
you ashamed!

But I expect, as usual, some of you will refuse to
comply with this proposal. This, alas! has been the
usual fate of the blessed gospel in all ages and in all
countries; as some have received it, so some have rejected
it. That old complaint of Isaiah has been justly repeated
thousands of times; Who hath believed our report ? and to
whom is the arm a/the LORD revealed ? Isa. liii. 1. And
is there no reason to pour it out from a broken heart
over some of you, my dear people ? Are you all this day
determined to believe? If so, I pronounce you blessed
in the name of the Lord ; but if not, I must denounce your
doom.

Be it known to you then from the living God, that if
you thus continue in unbelief, you shut the door of
mercy against yourselves, and exclude yourselves from
eternal life. Whatever splendid appearances of virtue,
whatever amiable qualities, whatever seeming good works
you have, the express sentence of the gospel lies in full

THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 135

force against you, He that believeth not shall be damned.
Mark xvi. 16. He that believeth not is condemned al-
ready, because he hath not believed in the name of the only
begotten Son of God. John iii. 18. He that believeth not
the Son, shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth
upon him. John iii. 36. This is your doom repeatedly
pronounced by him whom you must own to be the best
friend of human nature; and if he condemn, who can
justify you ?

Be it also known to you, that you will not only perish,
but you will perish with peculiar aggravations ; you will
fall with no common ruin; you will envy the lot of
heathens who perished without the law ; for oh ! you incur
the peculiarly enormous guilt of rejecting the gospel, and
putting contempt upon the Son of God. This is a horrid
exploit of wickedness, and this God resents above all the
other crimes of which human nature is capable. Hence
Christ is come for judgment as well as for mercy into this
world, and he is set for the fall as well as the rising again
of many in Israel. You now enjoy the light of the gospel,
which has conducted many through this dark world to
eternal day ; but remember also, this is the condemnation ;
that is, it is the occasion of the most aggravated condem-
nation, that light is come into the world, and men love dark-
ness rather than light. On this principle Jesus pro-
nounced the doom of Chorazin and Bethsaida more intoler-
able than that of Sodom and Gomorrah. Matt. xi. 21, 22.
And would it not be hard to find a place in Virginia where
the doom of unbelievers is likely to be so terrible as
among us?

And now does not all this move you ? Are you not
alarmed at the thought of perishing ; of perishing by the
hand of a Saviour rejected and despised; perishing under
the stain of his profaned blood ; perishing not only under

136 METHOD OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST.

the curse of the law, but under that of the gospel, which is
vastly heavier ? Oh ! are you hardy enough to venture
upon such a doom ? This doom is unavoidable if you
refuse to comply with the proposal now made to you.

I must now conclude the treaty; but for my own ac-
quittance, I must take witness that I have endeavoured to
discharge my commission, whatever reception you give it.
I call heaven and earth, and your own consciences to wit-
ness, that life and salvation, through Jesus Christ, have
been offered to you on this day; and if you reject it,
remember it ; remember it whenever you see this place ;
remember it whenever you see my face, or one another ;
remember it, that you may witness for me at the supreme
tribunal, that I am clear of your blood. Alas ! you will
remember it among a thousand painful reflections millions
of ages hence, when the remembrance of it will rend your
hearts like a vulture. Many sermons forgotten upon earth
are remembered in hell, and haunt the guilty mind for
ever. Oh that you would believe, and so prevent this
dreadful effect from the present sermon !

SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 137

SERMON III.

SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD.

2 COR. v. 20. — Now then we are ambassadors for Christy
as though God did beseech you by us : we pray you in
Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.

To preside in the solemnities of public worship, to
direct your thoughts, and choose for you the subjects of
your meditation on those sacred hours which you spend
in the house of God, and upon the right improvement of
which your everlasting happiness so much depends, this
is a province of the most tremendous importance that can
be devolved upon a mortal ; and every man of the sacred
character who knows what he is about, must tremble at
the thought, and be often anxiously perplexed what subject
he shall choose, what he shall say upon it, and in what
manner he shall deliver his message. His success in a
great measure depends upon his choice, for though the
blessed Spirit is the proper agent, and though the best
means, without his efficacious concurrence, are altogether
fruitless, yet he is wont to bless those means that are best
adapted to do good ; and after a long course of languid
and fruitless efforts, which seem to have been unusually
disowned by my divine Master, what text shall I choose
out of the inexhaustible treasure of God's word ? In
what new method shall I speak upon it ? What new un-
tried experiments shall I make? Blessed Jesus! my
heavenly Master ! direct thy poor perplexed servant who
is at a loss, and knows not what to do ; direct him that has
tried, and tried again, all the expedients he could think of)

VOL.!.— 18

138 SINNERS ENTREATED

but almost in vain, and now scarcely knows what it is to
hope for success ! Divine direction, my brethren, has
been sought; and may I hope it is that which has turned
my mind to address you this day on the important subject
of your reconciliation to God, and to become an humble
imitator of the great St. Paul, whose affecting words I
have read to you. Now then we are ambassadors for
Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray
you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.

The introduction to this passage you find in the fore-
going verses, God hath given to us (the apostles) the min-
istry of reconciliation; the sum and substance of which
is, namely, "That God was in Christ reconciling the
world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto
them." As if he had said, " The great Sovereign of the
universe, though highly provoked, and justly displeased
with our rebellious world, has been so gracious as to con-
trive a plan of reconciliation whereby they may not only
escape the punishment they deserve, but also be restored
to the favour of God, and all the privileges of his favourite
subjects. This plan was laid in Christ; that is, it was he
who was appointed, and undertook to remove all obstacles
out of the way of their reconciliation, so that if might be
consistent with the honour and dignity of God and his
government. This he performed by a life of perfect
obedience, and an atoning death, instead of rebellious man.
Though " he knew no sin" of his own : yet " he was
made sin," that is, a sin-offering, or a sinner by imputation
" for us," that we might " be made the righteousness of
God in him." Thus all hindrances are removed on God's
part. The plan of a treaty of reconciliation is formed,
approved and ratified in the court of heaven; but then it
must be published, all the terms made known, and the
consent of the rebels solicited and gained. It is not

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 139

enough that all impediments to peace are removed on
God's part; they must also be removed on the part of
man; the reconciliation must be mutual; both the parties
must agree. Hence arises the necessity of the ministry
of reconciliation which was committed to the apostles,
those prime ministers of the kingdom of Christ, and in a
lower sphere to the ordinary ministers of the gospel in
every age. The great business of their office is to pub-
lish the treaty of peace; that is, the articles of reconcilia-
tion, and to use every motive to gain the consent of man-
kind to these articles. It is this office St. Paul is dis-
charging, when he says, We are ambassadors for Christ,
as though God did beseech you by us; we pray you in
Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.

We are ambassadors for Christ. The proper notion
of an ambassador, is that of a person sent by a king to
transact affairs in his name, and according to his instructions,
with foreign states, or part of his subjects, to whom he
does not think proper to go himself and treat with them in
his own person. Thus a peace is generally concluded
between contending nations, not by their kings in person,
but by their plenipotentiaries, acting in their name, and by
their authority ; and, while they keep to their instructions,
their negotiations and agreements are as valid and authen-
tic as if they were carried on and concluded by their
masters in person. Thus the Lord Jesus Christ is not
personally present in our world to manage the treaty of
peace himself, but he has appointed first his apostles, and
then the ministers of the gospel through every age, to
carry it on in his name. This is their proper character ;
they are ambassadors for Christ, his plenipotentiaries, fur-
nished with a commission and instructions to make over-
tures of reconciliation to a rebel world, and treat with
them to gain their consent.

140 SINNERS ENTREATED

Indeed, aspiring ecclesiastics have assumed high sound-
ing titles merely to produce extravagant honours to
themselves. They have called themselves the ambas-
sadors of Christ, messengers from God, the plenipo-
tentiaries and viceroys of heaven, and I know not what,
not with a design to do honour to their Master, but to
keep the world in a superstitious awe of themselves.
This priestly pride and insolence I utterly abhor ; and yet
I humbly adventure to assume the title of an ambassador
of the great King of heaven, and require you to regard me
in this high character: but then you must know, that
while I am making this claim, I own myself obliged invio-
lably to adhere to the instructions of my divine Master
contained in the Bible. I have no power over your faith,
no power to dictate or prescribe ; but my work is only
just to publish the articles of peace as my Master has
established and revealed them in his word, without the
least addition, diminution, or alteration. I pretend to no
higher power than this, and this power I must claim,
unless I would renounce my office; for who can consist-
ently profess himself a minister of Christ, without assert-
ing his right and power to publish what his Lord has
taught, and communicate his royal instructions ?

Therefore without usurping an equality with St. Paul,
or his fellow apostles, I must tell you in his language, I
appear among you this day as the ambassador of the most
high God; I am discharging an embassy for Christ;* and
I tell you this with no other design than to procure your
most serious regard to what I say. If you consider it
only as my declaration, whatever regard you pay. to it, the
end of my ministry will not be answered upon you. The
end of my office is not to make myself the object of your
love and veneration, but to reconcile you to God; but

* This is the most literal translation of "fxcp XptaTov ovv Trpeofitvopev.

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 141

you cannot be reconciled to God while you consider the
proposal as made to you only by your fellow mortal. You
must regard it as made to you by the Lord Jesus Christ, the
great Mediator between God and man. I not only allow,
but even invite and charge you to inquire and judge whe-
ther what I say be agreeable to my divine instructions,
which are as open to your inspection as mine, and to re-
gard it no farther than it is so : but if I follow these in-
structions, and propose the treaty of peace to you just as
it is concluded in heaven, then I charge you to regard
it as proposed by the Lord of heaven and earth, the King
of kings, and Lord of lords, though through my unwor-
thy lips. Consider yourselves this day as the hearers not
of a preacher formed out of the clay like yourselves, but
of the Lord Jesus Christ. Suppose him here in person
treating with you about your reconciliation to God, and
what regard you would pay to a proposal made by him in
person, with all his divine royalties about him, that you
should now show to the treaty I am to negotiate with you
in his name and stead.

The next sentence in my text binds you still more
strongly to this; as though God did beseech you by us.
As if he had said, " God the Father also concurs in this
treaty of peace, as well as Christ the great Peace-maker ;
and as we discharge an embassy for Christ, so we do also
for God; and you are to regard our beseeching and ex-
horting,* as though the great God did in person beseech
and exhort you by us." What astonishing condescension
is here intimated ! not that the ministers of Christ should
beseech you ; this would be no mighty condescension :
but that the supreme Jehovah should beseech you ; that
he should not only command you with a stern air of au-
thority as your Sovereign, but as a friend, nay, as a peti-

* Trapaxa\ovfTOf signifies exhorting as well as beteechmg.

142 SINNERS ENTREATED

tioner, should affectionately beseech you, you despicable,
guilty worms, obnoxious rebels ! How astonishing, how
God-like, how unprecedented and inimitable is this conde-
scension ! Let heaven and earth admire and adore ! It
is by us, indeed, by us your poor fellow mortals, that he
beseeches : but oh ! let not this tempt you to disregard him
or his entreaty; though he employs such mean ambassa-
dors, yet consider his dignity who sends us, and then you
cannot disregard his message even from our mouth.

The apostle, having thus prepared the way, proceeds to
the actual exercise of his office as an ambassador for
Christ : We pray you, says he, in Christ's stead, be ye recon-
ciled unto God. As if he had said, " If Christ were now
present in person among you, this is what he would pro-
pose to you, and urge upon you, that you would be recon-
ciled to God : but him the heavens must receive till the
time of the restitution of all things ; but he has left us his
poor servants to officiate in his place as well as we can,
and we would prosecute the same design, we would urge
upon you what he would urge, were he to speak ; there-
fore we pray you, in his stead, be ye reconciled to God :
we earnestly pray you to be reconciled ; that is the utmost
which such feeble worms as we can do ; we can only pray
and beg, but your compliance is not within the command
of our power; the compliance belongs to you; and re-
member, if you refuse, you must take it upon yourselves,
and answer the consequence."

Having thus explained the text, I proceed in my poor
manner to exemplify it by negotiating the treaty with you
for your reconciliation to God ; and you see my business
lies directly with such of you as are yet enemies to God :
you are the only persons that stand in need of reconcilia-
tion. As for such of you (and I doubt not but there are
such among you) whose innate enmity has been subdued,

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 143

and who are become the friends and subjects of the King
of heaven after your guilty revolt, I must desire you, as it
were, to stand by yourselves for the present hour, and
help me by your prayers, while I am speaking to your
poor brethren, who still continue in that state of hostility
and rebellion against God, in which you once were, and
the miseries of which you well know, and still lament and
deplore.

But by this proposal I am afraid I have deprived myself
of hearers on this subject ; for have you not already placed
yourselves among the lovers of God, who consequently do
not need to be reconciled to him? Is not every one of
you ready to say to me, " If your business only lies with
the enemies of God, you have no concern with me in this
discourse ; for, God forbid that I should be an enemy to
him. I have indeed been guilty of a great many sins, but
I had no bad design in them, and never had the least en-
mity against my Maker ; so far from it that I shudder at
the very thought !" This is the first obstacle that I meet
with in discharging my embassy ; the embassy itself is looked
upon as needless by the persons concerned, like an attempt
to reconcile those that are good friends already. This ob-
stacle must be removed before we can proceed any farther.

I am far from charging any of you with so horrid a
crime as enmity and rebellion against God, who can pro-
duce satisfactory evidences to your own conscience that
you are his friends. I only desire that you would not flat-
ter yourselves, nor draw a rash and groundless conclusion
in an affair of such infinite moment, but that you would
put the matter to a fair trial, according to evidence, and
then let your conscience pass an impartial sentence as your
judge, under the supreme Judge of the world.

You plead " not guilty" to the charge, and allege that
you have always loved God ; but if this be the case,

144 SINNERS ENTREATED

whence is it that you have afforded him so few of your
affectionate and warm thoughts ? Do not your tenderest
thoughts dwell upon the objects of your love ? But has
not your mind been shy of him who gave you your power
of thinking? Have you not lived stupidly thoughtless of
him for days and weeks together ? Nay, have not serious
thoughts of him been unwelcome, and made you uneasy?
and have you not turned every way to avoid them ? Have
you not often prayed to him, and concurred in other acts
of religious worship, and yet had but very few or no de-
vout thoughts of him, even at the very time? And is
that mind well affected towards him that is so averse to
him, and turns every way to shun a glance of him ? Alas !
is this your friendship for the God that made you, whose
you are, and whom you ought to serve !

Would you not have indulged the fool's wish, that there
were no God, had not the horror and impossibility of the
thing restrained you ? But, notwithstanding this restraint,
has not this blasphemy shed its malignant poison at times
in your hearts? If there was no God, then you would
sin without control, and without dread of punishment;
and how sweet was this! Then you would have nothing
to do with that melancholy thing, religion; and what an
agreeable exemption would this be ? But is this your love
for him, to wish the Parent of all beings out of being?
Alas! can the rankest enmity rise higher?

Again, if you are reconciled to God, whence is it that
you are secretly, or perhaps openly, disaffected to his im-
age, I mean the purity and strictness of his law, and the
lineaments of holiness that appear upon the unfashionable
religious few ? If you loved God, you would of course
love every thing that bears any resemblance to him. But
are you not conscious that it is otherwise with you; that
you murmur and cavil at the restraints of God's law, and

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 145

would much rather abjure it, be free from it, and live as
you list? Are you not conscious that nothing exposes a
man more to your secret disgust and contempt, and per-
haps to your public mockery and ridicule, than a strict
and holy walk, and a conscientious observance of the
duties of devotion? And if you catch your neighbour in
any of these offences, do not your hearts rise against him?
and what is this but the effect of your enmity against
God ? Do you thus disgust a man for wearing the genuine
image and resemblance of your friend ? No ; the effect
of love is quite the reverse.

Again, If you do but reflect upon the daily sensations
of your own minds, must you not be conscious that you
love other persons and things more than God? that you
love pleasure, honour, riches, your relations and friends,
more than the glorious and ever blessed God? Look
into your own hearts, and you will find it so; you will find
that this, and that, and a thousand things in this world,
engross more of your thoughts, your cares, desires, joys,
sorrows, hopes, and fears, than God, or any of his con-
cerns. Now it is essential to the love of God that it be
supreme. You do not love him truly at all, in the least de-
gree, if you do not love him above all; above all persons
and things in the whole universe. He is a jealous God,
and will not suffer a rival. A lower degree of love for
supreme excellence is an affront and indignity. Is it not
therefore evident, even to your own conviction, that you
do not love God at all ? and what is this but to be his
enemy? To be indifferent towards him, as though he
were an insignificant being, neither good nor evil, a mere
cipher; to feel neither love nor hatred towards him, but to
neglect him, as if you had no concern with him one way
or other; what a. horrible disposition is this towards him,

who is supremely and infinitely glorious and amiable, your
VOL. I.— 19

146 SINNERS ENTREATED

Creator, your Sovereign, and Benefactor; who therefore
deserves and demands your highest love; or, in the words
of his own law, that you should love him with all your
heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all
your strength. Mark xii. 30. From what can such in-
differency towards him proceed but from disaffection and
enmity ? It is in this way that the enmity of men towards
God most generally discovers itself. They feel, perhaps,
no positive workings of hatred towards him, unless when
their innate corruption, like an exasperated serpent, is
irritated by conviction from his law; but they feel an
apathy, a listlessness, an indifferency towards him; and be-
cause they feel no more, they flatter themselves they are
far from hating him; especially as they may have very
honourable speculative thoughts of him floating on the
surface of their minds. But alas ! this very thing, this in-
differency, or listless neutrality, is the very core of their
enmity; and if they are thus indifferent to him now, while
enjoying so many blessings from his hand, and while he
delays their punishment, how will their enmity swell and
rise to all the rage of a devil against him, when he puts
forth his vindictive hand and touches them, and so gives
occasion to it to discover its venom? My soul shudders
to think what horrid insurrections and direct rebellion this
temper will produce when once irritated, and all restraints
are taken off; which will be the doom of sinners in the
eternal world ; and then they will have no more of the love
of God in them than the most malignant devil in hell !
If, therefore, you generally feel such an indifferency to-
wards God, be assured you are not reconciled to him, but
are his enemies in your hearts.

Again, All moral evil, or sin, is contrary to God; it is
the only thing upon earth, or in hell, that is most opposite
to his holy nature ; and the object of his implacable and

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 147

eternal indignation. He is of purer eyes than to behold
it or endure it. It is his hatred to sin that has turned his
heart against any of his creatures, and is the cause of all
the vengeance that he has inflicted upon the guilty in-
habitants of our world, or the spirits of hell. There is no
object in the whole compass of the universe so odious to
you as every sin is to a pure and all-holy God : now it is
impossible you should at once love two things so opposite,
so eternally irreconcilable. As much love as you have for
any unlawful pleasure, just so much enmity there is in
your hearts towards God. Hence, says St. Paul, you
were enemies in your mind, by wicked works. Col. i. 21.
Intimating that the love and practice of our wicked works
is a plain evidence of inward enmity of mind towards God.
The works of the flesh are sinful: hence, says the same
apostle, the carnal mind, or the minding of the flesh,
(fpovy/ua ??,<; aapxoz, Rom. viii. 7, is enmity against God;
it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be:
so then they that are in the flesh, or under the power of a
carnal mind, cannot please God. Rom. viii. 8. Because,
what ever seeming acts of obedience they perform, and
whatever appearances of friendship they put on, they are
at heart enemies to God, and therefore cannot please him,
who searches their heart, and sees the secret principle of
their actions. Hence also St. James tells us, that whoso-
ever will be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God, be-
cause the friendship of the world is enmity against God.
James iv. 4. For the world inflames m the lusts of men,
and occasions much sin; and if we love the tempter, we
love the sin to which it would allure us; and if we love
the sin, we are the enemies of God; and therefore the
friendship of the world is enmity against God. This then
is an established maxim, without straining the matter too
far, that as far as you love any sin, so far are you enemies

148 SINNERS ENTREATED

to God. The love, as well as the service of such opposite
masters, is utterly inconsistent. Now, do not your own
consciences witness against you, that you have indulged,
and still do habitually indulge the love of some sin or
other? Whether it be covetousness or sensual pleasure,
or ambition, or some angry passion, or whatever sin it be,
as far as you love it, so far you are enemies to God : and
if you take a view of your temper and practice, must you
not unavoidably be convicted of this dreadful guilt?
Horrible as the crime is, is it not an undeniable matter of
fact, that you do really love some sin, and consequently
hate the infinitely amiable and ever blessed God? and
therefore you are the persons I have to deal with, as need-
ing reconciliation with God.

Farther, take a view of your general manner of serving
God in the duties of religion : your manner of praying,
meditation, hearing the word of God, and other acts of
devotion, and then inquire, Do you perform this service as
the willing servants of a master you love? Do you not
enter upon such service with reluctance or listlessness, and
perform it with langour and indifferency as a business to
which you have no heart ? But is this your manner of
performing a labour of love to a friend? Will your own
reason suffer you to think you would be so luke-warm and
heartless in the worship of God if you sincerely loved
him? No; love is an active principle, a vigorous spring
of action; and if this were the principle of your religious
services, you would infuse more spirit and life into them,
you would exert all your powers, and be fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord. Rom. xii. 11.

But when you have performed offices of devotion with
some degree of earnestness, which no doubt you have
sometimes done, what was the principle or spring of your
exertion? Was it the love of God? or was it purely the

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 149

low principle of self-love? Why did you pray with such
eager importunity, and attend upon the other means of
grace with so much seriousness, but because you appre-
hended your dear selves were in danger, and you were
not willing to be miserable for ever? This servile, mer-
cenary kind of religious earnestness will not prove that
you love God, but only that you love yourselves; and this
you may do, and yet have no more true goodness, or
genuine love to God than an infernal spirit; for there is
not a spirit in hell but what loves himself. Indeed, self-
love is so far from being an evidence of the love of God,
that the extravagant excess of it is the source of that
wickedness that abounds among men and devils. I do
not mean by this utterly to exclude self-love out of genuine
religion; it must have its place in the most excellent and
best beings, but then it must be kept in a proper subordi-
nation, and not advance the creature above the Creator,
and dethrone the supreme King of the universe. His
love must be uppermost in the heart, and when that has
the highest place, the indulgence of self-love in pursuing
our own happiness is lawful, and an important duty.
Now, do you not find from this view of the case, that
you are not reconciled to God, even in your most devout
and zealous hours, much less in the languid, inactive tenor
of your lives ? If so, place yourselves among those that I
have to do with to-day; that is, the enemies of God.

So also, when you perform good offices to mankind;
when you are harmless, obliging neighbours; when you
are charitable to the poor, or strictly just in trade ; is the
love of God, and a regard to his authority, the reason and
principle of your actions? That is, do you do these
things because God commands them, and because you de-
light to do what he commands? or rather, do you not do
them merely because it is your nature to perform humane

150 SINNERS ENTREATED

and honourable actions in such instances; or because you
may acquire honour, or some selfish advantage by them ?
Alas ! that God should be neglected, forgotten, and left out
of the question, as of no importance even in those actions
that are materially good! that even what he commands
should be done, not because he commands it, but for some
other sordid, selfish reason! Oh! if you did really love
God, would you thus disregard him, and do nothing for
his sake, not only when you are doing what he forbids, but
even when you are performing what he has made your
duty! Would he be such a cipher, a mere nothing in
your practical esteem, if your hearts were reconciled to
him as your God? No; such of you must look upon
yourselves as the very persons whom I am to pray, in
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God.

I might thus, from obvious facts, lay before you many
more evidences of your disaffection to the great God; but
I must leave some room for the other part of my address
to you, in which I am to persuade you to accept of the
proposal of reconciliation; and therefore I shall add only
one more test of your pretended friendship, a test which
is established by the great Founder of our religion, as
infallibly decisive in this case ; and that is, obedience, or
the keeping of the commandments of God. This, I say,
is established in the strongest terms by Jesus Christ him-
self, as a decisive test of love, If you love me, keep my
commandments. John xiv. 15. Ye are my friends, if ye
do whatsoever I command you. John xv. 14. If a man
love me, he will keep my words. He that loveth me not,
keepeth not my sayings. John xiv. 23, 24. This is the
love of God, says St. John, that we keep his command-
ments; and his commandments are not grievous. 1 John
v. 3. That is, they are not grievous when love is the prin-
ciple of obedience. The service of love is always willing

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 151

and pleasing. Now, my brethren bring your hearts and lives
to this standard, and let conscience declare, Are there not
some demands and restraints of the divine law so disagreable
to you, that you labour to keep yourselves ignorant of them,
and turn every way to avoid the painful light of convic-
tion? Are there not several duties which you know in
your consciences to be such, which you do not so much
as honestly endeavour to perform, but knowingly and wil-
fully neglect 1 And are there not some favourite sins
which your consciences tell you God has forbidden, which
yet are so pleasing to you, that you knowingly and allow-
edly indulge and practise them ? If this be your case,
you need not pretend to plead anything in your own
defence, or hesitate any, longer ; the case is plain, you are,
beyond all doubt, enemies to God; you are undeniably
convicted of it this day by irresistible evidence. You per-
haps glory in the profession of Christians, but you are,
notwithstanding, enemies to God. You attend on public
worship, you pray, you read, you communicate, you are
perhaps a zealous churchman or dissenter, but you are
enemies of God. You have perhaps had many fits of reli-
gious affection, and serious concern about your everlasting
happiness, but notwithstanding you are enemies of God.
You may have reformed in many things, but you are still
enemies of God. Men may esteem you Christians, but
the God of heaven accounts you his enemies. In vain do
you insist upon it, that you have never hated your Maker
all your life, but even tremble at the thought, for undenia-
ble facts are against you; and the reason why you have
not seen your enmity was, because you were blind, and
judged upon wrong principles; but if you this day feel
the force of conviction from the law, and have your eyes
opened, you will see and be shocked at your horrid enmity
against God, before yonder sun sets.

152 SINNERS ENTREATED

And now, when I have singled out from the rest those
I am now to beseech to reconciliation with God, have I
not got the majority of you to treat with 1 Where are
the sincere lovers of God ? Alas ! how few are they ! and
how imperfect even in their love, so that they hardly
dare call themselves lovers of God, but tremble lest they
should still belong to the wretched crowd that are still
unreconciled to him !

Ye rebels against the King of heaven ! ye enemies
against my Lord and Master Jesus Christ! (I cannot
flatter you with a softer name) hear me ; attend to the
proposal I make to you, not in my own name, but in the
name and stead of your rightful Sovereign ; and that is,
that you will this day be reconciled to God. " I pray you
in his stead (that is all I can do) be ye reconciled to God."
That you may know what I mean, I will more particu-
larly explain this overture to you.

If you would be reconciled to God you must be deeply
sensible of the guilt, the wickedness, the baseness, the
inexpressible malignity of your enmity and rebellion against
him. You must return to your rightful Sovereign as con-
victed, self-condemned, penitent, broken-hearted rebels,
confounded and ashamed of your conduct, loathing your-
selves because you have loathed the supreme Excellence,
mourning over your unnatural disaffection, your base
ingratitude, your horrid rebellion against so good a King,
And what do you say to this article of the treaty of peace ?
Is it a hard thing for such causeless enemies to fall upon
the knee, and to mourn and weep as prostrate penitents at
the feet of their injured Maker? Is it a hard thing for one
that has all his life been guilty of the blackest crimes upon
earth, or even in hell, I mean enmity against God, to
confess " I have sinned," and to feel his own confes-
sion? to feel it, I say; for if he does not feel it, his

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 153

confession is but an empty compliment, that increases his
guilt.

Again, if you would be reconciled to God, you must
heartily consent to be reconciled to him in Christ; that is,
you must come in upon the footing of that act of grace
which is published in the gospel through Christ, and ex-
pecting no favour at all upon the footing of your own
goodness. The merit of what you call your good actions,
of your repentance, your prayers, your acts of charity
and justice must all pass for nothing in this respect: you
must depend only and entirely upon the merit of Christ's
obedience and sufferings as the ground of your acceptance
with God; and hope for forgiveness and favour from his
mere mercy bestowed upon you, only for the sake of Christ,
or on account of what he has done and suffered in the stead
of sinners. The context informs you, that it is only in
Christ that God is reconciling the world to himself; and
consequently it is only in Christ that the world must accept
of reconciliation and pardon. It does not consist with the
dignity and perfections of the King of heaven to receive
rebels into favour upon any other footing. -I would have
you consent to every article of the overture as I go along;
and therefore here again I make a pause to ask you, what
do you think of this article ? Are you willing to comply
with it, willing to come into favour with God, as convicted
self-condemned rebels, upon an act of grace procured by
the righteousness of Christ alone? Is it a mortification
to creatures that never have done one action truly good
in all their lives, because they have never loved God in
one moment of their lives; creatures that have always,
even in what they accounted their best dispositions, and
best actions, been hateful to God, because even in their
best dispositions, and best actions they were utterly des-
titute of his love? Is it a mortification to such creatures
VOL. I.— 20

154 SINNERS ENTREATED

to renounce all their own merit, and consent to be saved
only through grace, on account of the righteousness of
another, even of Jesus Christ the great Peacemaker ? Can
it be a mortification to you to renounce what you have
not, and to own yourselves guilty, and utterly unworthy,
when you are really such ? Oh ! may I not expect your
compliance with this term of reconciliation ?

Again, If you would be reconciled to God, you must
engage yourselves in his service for the future, and devote
yourselves to do his will. His law must be the rule of
your temper and practice : whatever he commands you
must honestly endeavour to perform, without exception of
any one duty as disagreeable and laborious; and -what-
ever he forbids, you must for that reason, abstain from,
however pleasing, advantageous, or fashionable. You
must no longer look upon yourself as your own, but as
bought with a price, and therefore bound to glorify God
with your souls and your bodies, which are his. And can
you make any difficulty of complying with this term ; of
obeying Him, whom the happy angels in heaven obey; of
observing that law which always unites your duty and
your happiness, and forbids nothing but what is itself inju-
rious to you in the nature of things; of doing the will of
the wisest and best of beings rather than your own, who
are ignorant and depraved creatures ? Oh ! can you make
any difficulty of this? If not, you will return home this
day reconciled to God; a happiness you have never yet
enjoyed for one moment.

Finally, if you would be reconciled to God, you must
break off all friendship with his enemies; your friendship
with the world, I mean your attachment to its wicked
fashions and customs, and your fondness for its rebellious
inhabitants, who continue enemies to God; your love of
guilty pleasures, and every form of sin, however pleasing

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 155

or gainful you might imagine it to be; your old habits and
practices, while enemies to God; all these you must break
oft* for ever; for your friendship with these is utterly
inconsistent with the love of God. As long as you are
resolved to love the world, to keep up your society with
your old companions in sin, to retain your old pleasures
and evil practices; as long, I say, as you are resolved upon
this course, farewell all hope of your reconciliation to God :
it is absolutely impossible. And do any of you hesitate
at this article? Is sin so noble a thing in itself, and so
happy in its consequences, as that you should be so loth to
part with it? Is it so sweet a thing to you to sin against
God,' that you know not how to forbear ? Alas ! will you
rather be an implacable enemy to the God that made you,
than break your league with his enemies and your own !
Do you love your sins so well, and are you so obliged to
them, that you will lay down your life, your eternal life,
for their sakes.

I might multiply particulars, but these are the principal
articles of that treaty of peace, I am negotiating with you ;
and a consent to these includes a compliance with all the
rest. And are you determined to comply? Does the
heaven-born purpose now rise in your minds, " I am deter-
mined I will be an enemy of God no longer ; but this very
day I will be reconciled to God upon his own terms !" Is
this your fixed purpose ? or is there any occasion to pray
and persuade you?

I well know, and it is fit you should know, that you are
not able of yourselves to consent to these terms, but that
it is the work of the power of God alone to reconcile you
to himself; and that all my persuasions and entreaties will
never make you either able or willing. You will then ask
me, perhaps, " Why do I propose the terms to you, or
use any persuasives or entreaties with you?" I answer,

156 SINNERS ENTREATED

because you never will he sensible of your inability till
you make an honest trial, and because you never will look
and pray for the aid of the blessed Spirit till you are
deeply sensible of your own insufficiency ; and further,
because, if the blessed Spirit should ever effectually work
upon you, it will be by enlightening your understandings
to see the reasonableness of the terms, and the force of
the persuasives; aud in this way, agreeably to your rea-
sonable natures, sweetly constraining your obstinate wills
to yield yourselves to God; therefore the terms must be
proposed to you, and persuasives used, if I would be sub-
servient to this divine agent, and furnish him with mate-
rials with which to work ; and I have some little hop6 that
he will, as it were, catch my feeble words from my lips
before they vanish into air, and bear them home to your
hearts with a power which you will not be able to resist.
Finally, a conviction of the true state of your case may
constrain you from self-love and the low principles of na-
ture to use the means of reconciliation with zeal and earn-
estness ; this you are capable of, even with the mere
strength of degenerate nature ; and it is only in this way
of earnest endeavours that you have any encouragement
to hope for divine aid; therefore, notwithstanding your
utter impotence, I must pray, entreat, and persuade you
to be reconciled to God.

I pray you, in the name of the great God your hea-
venly Father, and of Jesus Christ your Redeemer. If
God should once more renew the thunder and lightning,
and darkness and tempest of Sinai, and speak to you as
he once did to the trembling Israelites; or if he should
appear to you in all the amiable and alluring glories of a
sin-pardoning reconcilable God, and pray you to be recon-
ciled to him, would you not then regard the proposal ? or if
Jesus, who once prayed for you from the cross, should now

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 157

pray to you from his throne in heaven, and beg you with
his own gracious voice to be reconciled, oh ! could you
disregard the entreaty? Surely no. Now the overture
of peace is as really made to you by the blessed God and
his Son Jesus Christ, as if it were expressly proposed to
you by an immediate voice from heaven. For I beseech
you, as though God did beseech you by me, and it is in
Christ's stead, that I pray you be reconciled to God.
Therefore, however lightly you may make of a mere propo-
sal of mine, can you disregard an overture from the God
that made you, and the Saviour that bought you with his
blood ! in which I am but the faint echo of their voice
from heaven.

In the name of God I pray you; the name of the
greatest and best of beings ; that name which angels love
and adore, and which strikes terror through the hardiest
devil in the infernal regions ; the name of your Father ;
the immediate Father of your spirits, and the Author of
your mortal frames; the name of your Preserver and
Benefactor, in whom you live, and move, and have your be-
ing ; and who gives you life, and breath, and all things ; the
name of your rightful Sovereign and Lawgiver, who has
a right to demand your love and obedience ; the name of
your supreme Judge, who will ascend the tribunal, and
acquit or condemn you> as he finds you friends or foes ;
the name of that God, rich in goodness, who has replen-
ished heaven with an infinite plenitude of happiness in
which he will allow you to share alter all your hostility
and rebellion, if you consent to overtures of reconcilia-
tion ; in the name of that God of terrible majesty and jus-
tice, who has prepared the dungeon of hell as a prison for
his enemies, where he holds in chains the mighty powers
of darkness, and thousands of your own race, who per-
sisted in that enmity to him of which you are now guilty,

158 SINNERS ENTREATED

and with whom you must have your everlasting portion,
if, like them, you continue hardened and incorrigible in
your rebellion ; in the name of that compassionate God,
who sent his dear Son (oh the transporting thought !) to
satisfy divine justice for you by his death, and the precepts
of the law by his life, and thus to remove all obstructions
out of the way of your reconciliation on the part of God ;
in this great, this endearing and tremendous name, I pray
you be reconciled to God. I pray you for his sake ; and
has his name no weight with you? Will you do nothing
for his sake? what, not so reasonable and advantageous a
thing as dropping your unnatural rebellion, and being re-
conciled to him? Is your contempt of God risen to that
pitch that you will not do the most reasonable and profit-
able thing in the world, if he entreat you to do it? Be
astonished, O ye heavens ! at this.

I pray you both in the name and for the sake of Jesus
Christ, the true friend of publicans and sinners, in his name
and for his sake, who assumed your degraded nature, that
he might dignify and save it; who lived a life of labour,
poverty, and persecution on earth, that you might enjoy a
life of everlasting happiness and glory in heaven; who
died upon a torturing cross, that you might sit upon hea-
venly thrones ; who was imprisoned in the gloomy grave,
that you might enjoy a glorious resurrection ; who fell a
victim to divine justice, that you might be set free from its
dreadful arrest; who felt trouble and agony of soul, that
you might enjoy the smiles, the pleasures of divine love ;
who, in short, has discovered more ardent and extensive
love for you than all the friends in the world can do : in
his name, and for his sake, I pray you to be reconciled to
God. And is his dear name a trifle in your esteem?
Will you not do any thing so reasonable and so necessary,
and conducive to your happiness for his sake ; for his sake

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 159

who has done and suffered so much for you ? Alas ! has
the name of Jesus no more influence among the creatures
he bought with his blood ! It is hard, indeed, if I beg in
vain, when I beg for the sake of Christ, the Friend, the
Saviour of perishing souls.

But if you have no regard for him, you certainly have
for yourselves ; therefore, for your own sakes, for the sake
of your precious immortals souls, for the sake of your
own everlasting happiness, I pray you to be reconciled to
God. If you refuse, you degrade the honour of your
nature, and commence incarnate devils. For what is the
grand constituent of a devil, but enmity against God ? You
become the refuse of the creation, fit for no apartment of
the universe but the prison of hell. While you are un-
reconciled to God you can do nothing at all to please him.
He that searches the heart knows that even your good
actions do not proceed from love to him and therefore he
abhors them. Ten thousand prayers and acts of devotion
and morality, as you have no principles of real holiness,
are so many provocations to a righteous God. While you
refuse to be reconciled, you are accessary to, and patronize
all the rebellion of men and devils ; for if you have a right
to continue in your rebellion, why may not others? why
may not every man upon earth ? why may not every mise-
rable ghost in the infernal regions? And are you for
raising a universal mutiny and rebellion against the throne
of the Most High ! Oh the inexpressible horror of the
thought ! If you refuse to be reconciled, you will soon
weary out the mercy and patience of God towards you,
and he will come forth against you in all the terrors of an
almighty enemy. He will give death a commission to
seize you, and drag you to his flaming tribunal. He will
break off the treaty, and never make you one offer of re-
conciliation more : he will strip you of all the enjoyments

160 SINNERS ENTREATED

he was pleased to lend you, while you were under a re-
prieve, and the treaty was not come to a final issue ; and
will leave you nothing but bare being, and an extensive
capacity of misery, which will be filled up to the uttermost
from the vials of his indignation. He will treat you as his
implacable enemy, and you shall be to him as Amalek,
Exod. xvii. 16, with whom he will make war for ever and
ever. He will reprove you, and set your sins in order be-
fore you, and tear you in pieces, and there shall be none to
deliver. He will meet you as a lion, " and as a bear be-
reaved of her whelps, and will rend the caul of your hearts."
Hos. xiii. 8. He hath for a long time held his peace, and
endured your rebellion ; but ere long he will go forth as a
mighty man : he shall stir up jealousy like a man of war ;
he shall cry, yea, roar ; he shall prevail against his enemies.
Ah ! he will ease him of his adversaries, and avenge him
of his enemies. He will give orders to the executioners
of his justice : Those mine enemies, that would not that 1
should reign over them, bring them hither, and slay them
before me. Luke xix. 27. And now, if you will not sub-
mit to peace, prepare to meet your God, oh sinners ! gird
up your loins like men ; put on all the terror of your rage,
and go forth to meet your almighty adversary, who will
soon meet you in the field, and try your strength. Call
the legions of hell to your aid, and strengthen the con-
federacy with all your fellow-sinners upon earth; put
briers and thorns around you to enclose from his reach.
Prepare the dry stubble to oppose devouring flame.
Associate yourselves, but ye shall be broken in pieces:
gird yourselves ; but alas ! ye shall be broken to
pieces.

But oh ! I must drop this ironical challenge, and seri-
ously pray you to make peace with him whom you can-
not resist : then all your past rebellion will be forgiven ;

TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 161

you shall be the favourites of your sovereign, and happy
for ever; and earth and heaven will rejoice at the conclu-
sion of this blessed peace ; and my now sad heart will
share in the joy. Therefore, for your own sakes I pray
you to be reconciled to God.

VOL. I.— 21

162 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

SERMON IV.

THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY OF SPIRITUAL DEATH.

EPHES. ii. 1 and 5. — Who were dead in trespasses and
sins. — Even when we were dead in sins.

THERE is a kind of death which we all expect to feel,
that carries terror in the very sound, and all its circum-
stances are shocking to nature. The ghastly counte-
nance, the convulsive agonies, the expiring groan, the
coffin, the grave, the devouring worm, the stupor, the in-
sensibility, the universal inactivity, these strike a damp to
the spirit, and we turn pale at the thought. With such
objects as these in view, courage fails, levity looks serious,
presumption is dashed, the cheerful passions sink, and all
is solemn, all is melancholy. The most stupid and hardy
sinner cannot but be moved to see these things exemplified
in others ; and when he cannot avoid the prospect, he is
shocked to think that he himself must feel them.

But 'there is another kind of death little regarded in
deed, little feared, little lamented, which is infinitely more
terrible — the death, not of the body, but of the soul ; a
death which does not stupify the limbs, but the faculties
of the mind ; a death which does not separate the soul
and body, and consign the latter to the grave, but that
separates the soul from God, excludes it from all the joys
of his presence, and delivers it over to everlasting misery;
a tremendous death indeed! "A death unto death."
The expression of St. Paul is prodigiously strong and
striking : Bavd-rot; etc ddvarov. Death unto death, death

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 163

after death, in all dreadful succession, and the last more
terrible than the first, 2 Cor. ii. 16, and this is the death
meant in my text, dead in trespasses and sins.

To explain the context and show you the connection I
shall make two short remarks.

The one is, That the apostle had observed in the nine-
teenth and twentieth verses of the foregoing chapter that
the same almighty power of God, which raised Christ
from the dead, is exerted to enable a sinner to believe. —
We believe, says he, according to the working or energy
EvefifKav of his mighty power which he wrought in Christ,
when he raised him from the dead. The one, as well as
the other, is an exploit of omnipotence. The exceeding
greatness of his mighty power is exerted towards us that
believe, as well as it was upon the dead body of Christ to
restore it to life, after it had been torn and mangled upon
the cross, and lain three days and three nights in the
grave. What strong language is this ! what a forcible il-
lustration ! Methinks this passage alone is sufficient to
confound all the vanity and self-sufficiency of mortals, and
entirely destroy the proud fiction of a self-sprung faith
produced by the efforts of degenerate nature. In my text
the apostle assigns the reason of this. The same exertion
of the same power is necessary in the one case and the
other; because, as the body of Christ was dead, and had
no principle of life in it, so says he, ye were dead in tres-
passes and sins ; and therefore could no more quicken
yourselves than a dead body can restore itself to life.
But God, verse 4th, who is rich in mercy, for his great
love wherewith he loved us ; that God, who raised the en-
tombed Redeemer to life again, that same almighty God,
by a like exertion of the same power, hath quickened us,
verse 5th. even when we were dead in sins ; dead, sense-
less, inactive, and incapable of animating ourselves. Let

164 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

any man carefully read these verses, and consider their
most natural meaning, and I cannot but think common
sense will direct him thus to understand them. The Scrip-
tures were written with a design to be understood; and
therefore that sense which is most natural to a plain un-
prejudiced understanding is most likely to be true.

The other remark is, That the apostle having pro-
nounced the Ephesians dead in sin, while unconverted, in
the first verse, passes the same sentence upon himself and
the whole body of the Jews, notwithstanding their high
privileges, in the fifth verse. The sense and connection
may be discovered in the following paraphrase : " You
Ephesians were very lately heathens, and, while you were
in that state, you were spiritually dead, and all your ac-
tions were dead works. In time past ye walked in tres-
passes and sins, nor were you singular in your course ;
though it be infinitely pernicious, yet it is the common
course of this world, and it is also agreeable to the temper
and instigation of that gloomy prince, who has a peculiar
power in the region of the air; that malignant spirit who
works with dreadful efficacy in the numerous children of
disobedience ; but this was not the case of you heathens
alone : we also who are Jews, notwithstanding our many
religious advantages, and even I myself, notwithstanding
my high privileges and unblemishable life as a Pharisee,
we also, I say, had our conversation in times past among
the children of disobedience; we all, as well as they,
walked in the lusts of the flesh, fulfilling the desires and
inclinations (#e^ar«) of our sensual flesh, and of our
depraved minds; for these were tainted with spiritual
wickedness, independent upon our animal passions and ap-
petites ; and we are all, even by nature, children of wrath
even as others ; in this respect we Jews were just like the
rest of mankind, corrupt from our very birth, transgress-

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 165

ors from the womb, and liable to the wrath of God. Our
external relation and privileges as the peculiar people of
God, distinguished with a religion from heaven, make no
distinction between us and others in this matter. As we
are all children of disobedience by our lives, so we are all,
without exception, children of wrath by nature; but when
we were all dead in sins, when Jews and Gentiles were
equally dead to God, then, even then, God who is rich in
mercy, had pity upon us ; he quickened us ; " he inspired
us with a new and spiritual life by his own almighty power,
which raised the dead body of Christ from the grave."
He quickened us together with Christ : "We received our
life by virtue of our union with him as our vital head, who
was raised to an immortal life, that he might quicken
dead souls by those influences of his spirit which he
purchased by his death ; and therefore by grace are ye
saved." It is the purest, richest, freest grace, that such
dead souls as we were made alive to God, and not suffered
to remain dead for ever.

This is the obvious meaning and connection of these
verses; and we now proceed to consider the text, dead in
trespasses and sins ; you dead, we dead, Jews and Gen-
tiles all dead together in trespasses and sins. A dismal,
mortifying character ! " This one place," says Ueza,
" like a thunder-bolt, dashes all mankind down to the dust,
great and proud as they are ; for it pronounces their na-
ture not only hurt but dead by sin, and therefore liable to
wrath.*

Death is a state of insensibility and inactivity, and a
dead man is incapable of restoring himself to ri%; there-
fore the condition of an unconverted sinner must have

* "Hoc uno loco, quasi fulmine, totus homo, quantus quantus est proster-
nitur. Neque enim naturam, dicit laesam, sed mortuam, per peccatum ;
ideoque irae obnoxiam."

166 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

some resemblance to such a state, in order to support the
bold metaphor here used by the apostle. To understand
it aright we must take care, on the one hand, that we do
not explain it away in flattery to ourselves, or in compli-
ment to the pride of human nature; and, on the other
hand, that we do not carry the similitude too far, so as to
lead into absurdities, and contradict matter of fact.

The metaphor must be understood with several limita-
tions or exceptions; for it is certain there is a wide differ-
ence between the spiritual death of the soul, and the
natural death of the body, particularly in this respect, that
death puts an entire end to all the powers, actions, and
sensations of our animal nature universally, with regard to
all objects of every kind: but a soul dead in sin is one
partially dead; that is, it is dead only with regard to a
certain kind of sensations and exercises, but in the mean
time it may be all life and activity about other things.
It is alive, sensible, and vigorous about earthly objects
and pursuits; these raise its passions and engage its
thoughts. It has also a dreadful power and faculty of
sinning, this is not its life but its disease, its death, like the
tendency of a dead body to corruption. It can likewise
exercise its intellectual powers, and make considerable
improvements in science. A sinner dead in trespasses
and sins may be a living treasury of knowledge, an uni-
versal scholar, a profound philosopher, and even a great
divine, as far as mere speculative knowledge can render
him such; nay, he is capable of many sensations and im-
pressions from religious objects, and of performing all the
external duties of religion. He is able to read, to hear,
to pray, to meditate upon divine things; nay, he may be
an instructor of others, and preach perhaps with extensive
popularity; he may have a form of godliness, and obtain
i name to live among men; he is in some measure able,

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH.

and it is his duty to attend upon the means God has in-
stituted for quickening him with spiritual life, and God
deals with him as with a rational creature, by laws, sanc-
tions, promises, expostulations, and invitations: these con-
cessions I make not only to give you the sense of the
text, but also to prevent the abuse of the doctrine, and
anticipate some objections against it, as though it were an
encouragement to continue idle, and use no means to ob-
tain spiritual life: or as though it rendered all the means
of grace needless and absurd, like arguments to the dead,
to restore themselves to life. But, notwithstanding all
these concessions, it is a melancholy truth that an unre-
generate sinner is dead. Though he can commit sin with
greediness, though he is capable of animal actions and
secular pursuits, nay, though he can employ his mind even
about intellectual and spiritual things, and is capable of
performing the external duties of religion, yet there is
something in religion with regard to which he is entirely
dead : there is a kind of spiritual life of which he is en-
tirely destitute : he is habitually insensible with regard to
things divine and eternal: he has no activity, no vigour in
the pure, spiritual and vital exercises of religion: he has
no prevailing bent of mind towards them : he has not those
views and apprehensions of things which a soul spiritually
alive would necessarily receive and entertain: he is desti-
tute of those sacred affections, that joy, that love, that de-
sire, that hope, that fear, that sorrow, which are, as it
were, the innate passions of the new man. In short, he
is so inactive, so listless, so insensible in these respects,
that death, which puts an end to all action and sensation,
is a proper emblem of his state; and this is the meaning
of the apostle in my text. He is also utterly unable to
quicken himself. He may indeed use means in some sort ;
but to implant a vital principle in his soul, but to give

THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

himself vivid sensations of divine things, and make himself
alive towards God, this is entirely beyond his utmost
ability; this is as peculiarly the work of almighty power
as the resurrection of a dead body from the grave. As to
this death it is brought upon him by, and consists in,
trespasses and sins. The innate depravity and corruption
of the heart, and the habits of sin contracted and confirmed
by repeated indulgences of inbred corruption, these are
the poisonous, deadly things that have slain the soul; these
have entirely indisposed and disabled it for living religion.
Trespasses and sins are the grave, the corrupt effluvia, the
malignant damps, the rottenness of a dead soul: it lies
dead, senseless, inactive, buried in trespasses and sins.
Trespasses and sins render it ghastly, odious, abominable,
a noisome putrefaction before a holy God, like a rotten
carcass, or a mere mass of corruption ; the vilest lusts, like
worms, riot upon and devour it, but it feels them not, nor
can it lift a hand to drive the venom off. Such mortify-
ing ideas as these may be contained in the striking meta-
phor, dead in trespasses and sins ; and I hope you now
understand its general meaning.

If you would know what has turned my thoughts to
this subject, I will candidly tell you, though with a sor-
rowful heart. I am sure, if any objects within the com-
pass of human knowledge have a tendency to make the
deepest impressions upon our minds, they are those things
which Christianity teaches us concerning God, concerning
ourselves, and a future state; and if there be any exercises
which should call forth all the life and powers of our souls
into action, they are those of a religious nature : but alas !
I often find a strange, astonishing stupour and listlessness
about these things. In this I am not singular; the best
among us complain of the same thing; the most lively
Christians feel this unaccountable languor and insensi-

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 169

bility; and the generality are evidently destitute of all
habitual concern about them: they are all alive in the
pursuit of pleasure, riches, or honours ; their thoughts are
easily engaged, and their affections raised by such things
as these: but the concerns of religion, which above all
other things are adapted to make impressions upon them,
and stir up all the life within them, seem to have little or
no effect. When I have made this observation with re-
spect to others, and felt the melancholy confirmation of it
in my own breast, I have really been struck with amaze-
ment, and ready to cry out, "Lord, what is this that has
befallen me, and the rest of my fellow-mortals ? what can
be the cause of such conduct in rational nature, to be
active and eager about trifles, and stupid and careless about
matters of infinite importance? Oh, whence is this strange
infatuation!" Thus I have been shocked at this as-
tonishing fact, and I could account for it in no other way
but by reflecting that we have all been dead in trespasses
and sins. In such a solemn hour the apostle's expression
does not seem at all too strong. I have no scruple at all
to pronounce, not only from the authority of an apostle,
but from the evidence of the thing, that I, and all around
me, yea, and all the sons of men, have been dead ; in the
spirtual sense, utterly dead. Multitudes among us, yea,
the generality are dead still ; hence the stillness about re-
ligion among us ; hence the stupor, the carelessness about
eternal things, the thoughtless neglect of God, the insensi-
bility under his providential dispensations, the impenitence,
the presumption that so much prevail. God has indeed,
out of the great love wherewith he loved us, quickened
some of us, even when we were dead in sins; and we have
a little life, some vital sensations and impressions at times,
but oh! how little, how superficial, how much of a deadly
stupor yet remains ! how little life in prayer, in hearing,

VOL. I.— 22

170 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

or in the nearest approach to the living God! The re-
flection is shocking, but alas! it is too true; consult your
own hearts and you will find it even so. Animal life
seems to be a gradual thing; it gradually grows in an in-
fant, it is perfect in mature age, and in old age it gradually
decays till all is gone; but how small is the degree of life
when the foetus is just animated, or the infant born into
the world! but little superior to that of a plant or an
oyster. What faint sensations, what obscure and languid
perceptions, what feeble motions ! Such are the children
of grace in the present state. Spiritual life is gradual; it
is infused in regeneration; but oh! how far from perfection
while on this side heaven ! Alas ! the best of us are like
the poor traveller that fell among thieves, and was left
half dead; however, it is an unspeakable mercy to have
the least principle of spiritual life; and we should prize it
more than crowns and empires.

If you would know my design in choosing this subject,
it is partly for the conviction of sinners, that they may be
alarmed with their deplorable condition, which is the first
step towards their being quickened; partly to rouse the
children of grace to seek more life from their vital head;
and partly to display the rich grace of God in quickening
such dead sinners, and bestowing upon them a spiritual
and immortal life; and surely nothing can inflame our
gratitude and raise our wonder more than the considera-
tion that we were dead in trespasses and sins! If I may
but answer these ends, it will be an unspeakable blessing
to us all. And oh, that divine grace may honour this
humble attempt of a poor creature, at best but half alive,
with success ! I hope, my brethren, you will hear seriously
for it is really a most serious subject.

You have seen that the metaphorical expression in my
text is intended to represent the stupidity, inactivity, and

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 171

impotence of unregenerate sinners about divine things.
This truth I might confirm by argument and Scripture
authority; but I think it may be a better method for pop-
ular conviction to prove and illu'strate it from plain in-
stances of the temper and conduct of sinners about the
concerns of religion, as this may force the conviction upon
them from undoubted matters of fact and their own ex-
perience.

This, therefore, is the method I intend to pursue; and
my time will allow me to particularize only the following
instances.

I. Consider the excellency of the divine Being, the sum
total, the great original of all perfections. How infinitely
worthy is he of the adoration of all his creatures ! how
deserving of their most intense thoughts and most ardent
affections ! If majesty and glory can strike us with awe
and veneration, does not Jehovah demand them, who is
clothed with majesty and glory as with a garment, and be-
fore whom all the inhabitants of the earth are as grass-
hoppers, as nothing, as less than nothing, and vanity ? If
wisdom excites our pleasing wonder, here is an unfath-
omable depth. Oh the depth of the riches of the wisdom
and knowledge of God ! If goodness, grace, and mercy
attract our love and gratitude, here these amiable perfec-
tions shine in their most alluring glories. If justice strikes
a damp to the guilty, here is justice in all its tremendous
majesty. If veracity, if candor, if any, or all of the moral
virtues engage our esteem, here they all centre in their
highest perfection. If the presence of a king strikes a
reverence; if the eye of his judge awes the criminal, and
restrains him from offending, certainly we should fear
before the Lord all the day, for we are surrounded with
his omnipresence, and he is the inspector and judge of all
our thoughts and actions. If riches excite desire, here

172 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

are unsearchable riches : if happiness has charms that
draw all the world after it, here is an unbounded ocean of
happiness; here is the only complete portion for an im-
mortal mind. Men are affected with these things in one
another, though found in a very imperfect degree. Power
awes and commands ; virtue and goodness please ; beauty
charms; justice strikes with solemnity and terror; a
bright genius is admired ; a benevolent, merciful temper
is loved : thus men are affected with created excellences.
Whence is it, then, they are so stupidly unaffected with
the supreme excellences of Jehovah?

Here, my brethren, turn your eyes inward upon your-
selves, and inquire, are not several of you conscious that,
though you have passions for such objects as these, and
you are easily moved by them, yet, with regard to the
perfections of the supreme and best of beings, your hearts
are habitually senseless and unaffected ? It is not an easy
thing to make impressions upon you by them; and what
increases the wonder, and aggravates your guilt, is, that
you are thus senseless and unaffected, when you believe and
profess that these perfections are really in God, and that
in the highest degree possible. In other cases you can
love what appears amiable, you revere what is great and
majestic, you eagerly desire and pursue what is valuable
and tends to your happiness; and all this you do freely,
spontaneously, vigorously, by the innate inclination and
tendency of your nature, without reluctance, without corn-
pulsation, nay, without persuasion; but as to God and
all his perfections, you are strangely insensible, backward,
and averse. Where is there one being that has any con-
fessed excellency in the compass of human knowledge,
that does not engage more of the thoughts and affections
of mankind than the glorious and ever blessed God ? The
sun, moon, and stars have had more worshippers than the

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 173

uncreated fountain of light from which they derive their
lustre. Kings and ministers of state have more punctual
homage and more frequent applications made to them than
the King of kings and Lord of lords. Created enjoyments
are more eagerly pursued than the supreme good. Search
all the world over, and you will find but very little mo-
tions of heart towards God ; little love, little desire, little
searching after him. You will often, indeed, see him hon-
oured with the compliment of a bended knee, and a few
heartless words, under the name of a prayer; but where is
the heart, or where are the thoughts, where the affec-
tions ? These run wild through the world, and are scat-
tered among a thousand other objects. The heart has no
prevailing tendency toward God, the thoughts are shy of
him, the affections have no innate propensity to him. In
short, in this respect, the whole man is out of order : here
he does not at all act like himself; here are no affection-
ate thoughts, no delightful meditations, no ardent desires,
no eager pursuits and vigorous endeavours ; but all is list-
less, stupid, indisposed, inactive, and averse : and what is
the matter? — "Lord! what is this that has seized the
souls of thine own offspring, that they are thus utterly
disordered towards thee?" The reason is, they are dead,
dead in tresspasses and sins. It is impossible a living
soul should be so stupid and unaffected with such an
object; it must be a dead soul that has no feeling. Yes,
sinners, this is the melancholy reason why you are so
thoughtless, so unconcerned, so senseless about the God
that made you : you are dead. And what is the reason
that you, who have been begotten again to a spiritual life,
and who are united to Christ as your vital head, what is
the reason that you so often feel such languishments ; that
the pulse of spiritual life beats so faint and irregular, and
that its motions are so feeble and slow ? All this you feel

174 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

and lament, but how comes it to pass ? what can be the
cause that you, who have indeed tasted that the Lord is
gracious, and are sensible that he is all-glorious and lovely,
and your only happiness — Oh ! what can be the. cause,
that you, of all men in the world, should be so little en-
gaged to him ? Alas ! the cause is, you have been dead,
and the deadly stupor has not yet left you: you have
(blessed be the quickening Spirit of Christ !) you have re-
ceived a little life ; but, alas ! it is a feeble spark ; it finds
the principles of death still strong in your constitution ;
these it must struggle with, and by them it is often borne
down, suppressed, and just expiring. Walk humbly, then,
and remember your shame, that you were once dead, and
children of wrath, even as others. The carelessness and
indisposition of the soul towards the supreme excellence
will appear yet more evident and astonishing, if we con-
sider,

II. The august and endearing relations the great and
blessed God sustains to us, and the many ways he has
taken to make dutiful and grateful impressions upon our
hearts. What tender endearments are there contained in
the relation of a Father ! This he bears to us : he made
us, and not we ourselves. Our bodies, indeed, are pro-
duced in a succession from Adam by generation, but who
was it that began the series ? It was the Almighty, who
formed the first man of the dust : it was he who first put
the succession of causes in motion ; and, therefore, he is
the grand original cause, and the whole chain depends
upon him. Who was it that first established the laws of
generation, and still continues them in force ? It is the
all-creating parent of nature : and without him men would
have been no more, able to produce one another than
stones or clods of earth. As to our souls, the principal
part of our persons, God is their immediate author, with-

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 175

out the least concurrence of secondary causes. Hence he
is called the Father of jour spirits in a peculiar sense,
Heb. xii. 9 ; and he assumes the endearing name of " the
God of the spirits of all flesh." Numb. xvi. 22. Now
the name of a father is wont to carry some endearment
and authority. Children, especially in their young and
helpless years, are fond of their father ; their little hearts
beat with a thousand grateful passions towards him; they
love to be dandled on his knees, and fondled in his arms;
and they fly to him upon every appearance of danger : but
if God be a father, where is his honour ? here, alas ! the
filial passions are senseless and immoveable. It is but a
little time since we came from his creating hand, and yet
we have forgotten him. It seems unnatural for his own
offspring to inquire, " Where is God my Maker ?" They
show no fondness for him, no affectionate veneration, and
no humble confidence ; their hearts are dead towards him,
as though there were no such being, or no such near re-
lation subsisting between them. In childhood, a rattle or
a straw, or any trifle, is more thought of than their hea-
venly Father : in riper years, their vain pleasures and
secular pursuits command more of their affections than
their divine original and only happiness.

Compare your natural temper towards your heavenly
Father, and towards your earthly parents, and how wide
is the difference! Nature works strong in your hearts
towards them, but towards him all the filial passions are
dull and dead; and why? alas! the reason is, you are dead
in trespasses and sins. But this relation of a Father is
not the only relation our God sustains to you; he is your
supreme King, to whom you owe allegiance; your Law-
giver, whose will is the rule of your conduct; and your
Judge, who will call you to an account, and reward or
punish you according to your works; but how unnatural

176

THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

is it to men to revere the most high God under these
august characters ! Where is there a king upon earth,
however weak or tyrannical, but is more regarded by his
subjects than the King of heaven by the generality of men ?
Were ever such excellent laws contemned and violated ?
Did ever criminals treat their judge with so much neglect
and contempt? And are these souls alive to God who
thus treat him? No. Alas! "they are dead in tres-
passes and sins ;" however lively they are towards other
things, yet in this respect they are seized with a deadly
stupor. God is also our Guardian and Deliverer; and
from how many dangers has he preserved us ! from how
many calamities has he delivered us ! Dangers, distresses
and deaths crowd upon us, and surround us in every age
and every place : the air, the earth, the sea, and every
element, are pregnant with numberless principles of pain
and death ready to seize and destroy us : sickness and
death swarm around us: nay, they lie in ambush in our
own constitution, and are perpetually undermining our
lives, and yet our divine Guardian preserves us for months
and years unhurt, untouched ; or if he suffers the calamity
to fall, or death to threaten, he flies to our deliverance ;
and how many salvations of this kind has he wrought
for us; salvations from accidents, from sicknesses, from
pain, from sorrows, from death; salvations from dan-
gers seen and unseen ; salvations in infancy, in youth, and
in maturer years ! These things we cannot deny without
the most stupid ignorance, and an atheistical disbelief of
divine Providence. Now, such repeated, such long-con-
tinued, such unmerited favours as these would not pass for
nothing between man and man. We have hearts to feel
such obligations; nay, the ten thousandth, the millionth
part of such gracious care and goodness would be grate-
fully received, and thankfully acknowledged. Indeed it

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 177

is impossible we should receive even this small, this very
small proportion of favours from men in comparison of
what we receive from God ; and even when they are the
instruments of our deliverance, he is the original Author.
But after all, is there a natural aptitude in the hearts of
men to think of their gracious Guardian and Saviour?
Does the principle of gratitude naturally lead them to love
him, and to make thankful acknowledgments to him?
Alas ! no. They may indeed feel some transient, super-
ficial workings of gratitude when under the fresh sense
of some remarkable deliverance; but these impressions
soon wear off, and they become as thoughtless and stupid
as ever. But let a man, like yourselves, save you from
some great distress, you will always gratefully remember
him, think of him often with pleasure, and take all oppor-
tunities of returning his kindness, especially if your deli-
verer was much your superior, and independent upon you ;
if you had forfeited his favour, provoked him, and incurred
his displeasure: great favours from such an one would
make impressions upon the most obdurate heart.

But though God be infinitely superior to us, and it is
nothing to him what becomes of us, though we have re-
belled against him, and deserve his vengeance, yet ten
thousand deliverances from his hands have little or no
effect upon the hearts of men : all these cannot bring them
to think of him, or love him as much as they do a friend,
or a common benefactor of their own species; and does
such stupid ingratitude discover any spiritual life in them ?
No : they are dead in this respect, though they are all
alive to those passions that terminate upon created objects.
Further, God is the Benefactor of mankind, not only in
delivering them from dangers and calamities, but in bestow-
ing unnumbered positive blessings upon them. Here I

cannot pretend to be particular, for the list of blessings is
VOL. I.— 23

178 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

endless ; and it will be the happy employment of an eter-
nity to recollect and enumerate them. What an exten-
sive and well-furnished world has our God formed for our
accommodation! For us he has enriched the sun with
light and heat, and the earth with fruitfulness. The nu-
merous inhabitants of every element, the plants, minerals,
and beasts of the earth, the fishes of the sea, the fowls of
the air, are all rendering their service to man ; some afford
him food, and others work for him: the wind and seas,
fire and water, stones and trees, all conspire to be useful
to him. Our divine Benefactor crowns us with the bless-
ings of liberty, of society, of friendship, and the most
endearing relations : he preserves our health, gives us " rain
from heaven, and fruitful seasons, and fills our hearts
with food and gladness." In short, he gives us life,
and breath, and all things ; every day, every hour, every
moment has arrived to us richly freighted with blessings;
blessings have resided with us at home, and attended us
abroad; blessings presented themselves ready for our en-
joyment as soon as we entered into the world ; then God
provided hands to receive us, knees to support us, breasts
to suckle us, and parents to guard and cherish us ; bless-
ings have grown up with us, and given such constant
attendance, that they are become familiar to us, and are
the inseparable companions of our lives. It is no new
or useful thing to us to see an illustrious sun rising to give
us the day, to enjoy repose in the night, to rise refreshed
and vigourous in the morning, to see our tables spread
with plenty, the trees covered with fruit, the fields with
grain and various forms of animals growing up for our
support or service. These are such familiar blessings to
us, that they too often seem things of course, or necessary
appendages of our being. What a crowd of blessings have
crowned tie present morning ! You and yours are alive

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 179

and well, you have not come hither ghastly and pining
with hunger, or agonizing with pain. How many refresh-
ing draughts of air have you drawn this morning ! how
many sprightly and regular pulses have beat through your
frame ! how many easy motions have you performed with
hands, feet, eyes, tongues, and other members of your
body ! and are not all these favours from God ? Yes, un-
doubtedly ; and thus has he gone on blessing you all your
days, without any interruption at all in many of these par-
ticulars of kindness, and with but very little in the rest.
Sinful and miserable as this world is, it is a treasury rich
in blessings, a storehouse full of provisions, a dwelling well
furnished for the accommodation of mortals, and all by the
care, and at the expense of that gracious God who first
made and still preserves it what it is. " Lord, whence is
it then that the inhabitants forget and neglect thee, as
though they were not at all obliged to thee ? Oh !
whence is it that they love thy gifts, and yet disregard the
Giver 1 that they think less of thee than an earthly father
or friend, or a human benefactor ; that there should be so
little gratitude towards thee, that of all benefactors thou
shouldst be the least acknowledged; that the benefactors
of nations, and even of private persons, in instances un-
worthy to be mentioned with those of thy goodness, should
be celebrated, and even adored, while thou art neglected,
thine agency overlooked, and thy goodness forgotten?
Oh ! whence is this strange phenomenon, this unaccount-
able, unprecedented stupidity and ingratitude in reasonable
creatures 1 Surely, if they had any life, any sensation in
this respect, they would not be capable of such a conduct;
but they are dead, dead to all the generous sensations of
gratitude to God; and as a dead corpse feels no grati-
tude to those that perform the last friendly office and
cover it with earth, so a dead soul stands unmoved

180 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

under all the profusion of blessings which heaven pours
upon it.

The blessings I have mentioned, which are confined to
the present state, are great, and deserve our wonder and
thanksgiving; especially, considering that they are be-
stowed upon a race of rebellious, ungrateful creatures,
who deserve the severest vengeance; but there is a set
of blessings yet unmentioned, of infinitely greater impor-
tance, in which all others are swallowed up, by the
glory of which they are obscured, like the stars of night
by the rising sun. To some of our race God has given
crowns and kingdoms. For Israel Jehovah wrought
the most astonishing miracles; seas and rivers opened
to make way for them ; rocks burst into springs of water
to quench their thirst; the clouds poured down manna,
and fed them with bread from heaven; their God delivered
Daniel from the jaws of hungry lions, and his three com-
panions from the burning fiery furnace. He has restored
health to the sick, sight to the blind, and life to the dead.
These blessings and deliverances have something majestic
and striking in them : and had we been the subjects of
them, we could not but have regarded them as great and
singular; but what are these in comparison of God's gift
of his Son, and the blessings he has purchased ! his Son,
who is of greater value, and dearer to him than ten thou-
sand worlds ; his beloved Son, in whom he is well pleased ;
him has he given for us, given up to three-and-thirty years
of the most mortifying abasement, and an incessant conflict
with the severest trials ; given up to death, and all the igno-
miny and agonies of crucifixion. Thus has God loved our
world ! and never was there such a display of love in hea-
ven or on earth. You can no more find love equal to
this among creatures, than you can find among them the
infinite power that formed the universe out of nothing.

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 181

This will stand upon record to- all eternity, as the unprece-
dented, unparalleled, inimitable love of God. And it ap-
pears the more illustrious when we consider that this un-
speakable gift was given to sinners, to rebels, to enemies,
that were so far from deserving it, that, on the other hand,
it is a miracle of mercy that they are not all groaning for
ever under the tremendous weight of his justice. Oh !
that I could say something becoming this love ; something
that might do honour to it ! but, alas ! the language of
mortals was formed for lower subjects. This love passes
all description and all knowledge. Consider also what rich
blessings Christ has purchased for us ; purchased not with
such corruptible things as silver and gold, but with his own
precious blood; the price recommends and endears the
blessings, though they are so great in themselves, as to
need no such recommendation ! What can be greater or
more suitable blessings to persons in our circumstances,
than pardon for the guilty, redemption for slaves, righteous-
ness and justification for the condemned, sanctification for
the unholy, rest for the weary, comfort for mourners, the
favour of God for rebels and exiles, strength for the impo-
tent, protection for the helpless, everlasting happiness for the
heirs of hell, and, to sum up all, grace and glory, and every
good thing, and all the unsearchable riches of Christ for
the wretched and miserable, the poor, the blind, and naked !
These are blessings indeed, and, in comparison of them,
all the riches of the world are impoverished, and vanish
to nothing; and all these blessings are published, offered
freely, indefinitely offered to you, to me, to the greatest
sinner on earth, in the gospel; and we are allowed —
allowed, did I say? we are invited with the utmost im-
portunity, entreated with the most compassionate tender-
ness and condescension, and commanded by the highest
authority, upon pain of eternal damnation, to accept the

182 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

blessings presented to us ! And what reception does all
this love meet with in our world? I tremble to think
of it.

It is plain, these things are proposed to a world dead in
sin ; for they are all still, all unmoved, all senseless under
such a revelation of infinite grace; mankind know not what it
is to be moved, melted, transported with the love of a cru-
cified Saviour, till divine grace visits their hearts, and forms
them into new creatures ; they feel no longer solicitude,
nay, not so much as willingness to receive these blessings,
till they become willing by almighty power: and judge ye,
my brethren, whether they are not dead souls that are
proof even against the love of God in Christ, that are not
moved and melted by the agonies of his cross, that are
careless about such inestimable blessings as these? Has
that soul any spiritual life in it, that can sit senseless under
the cross of Jesus, that can forget him, neglect him, dis-
honour him, after all his love and all his sufferings : that
feels a prevailing indifference and languor towards him;
that loves him less than an earthly friend, and seeks him
with less eagerness than gold and silver? Is not every
generous passion, every principle of gratitude quite ex-
tinct in such a spirit ? It may be alive to other objects,
but towards this it is dead, and alas ! is not this the com-
mon case ? Oh look round the world, and what do you
see but a general neglect of the blessed Jesus, and all the
blessings of his gospel? How cold, how untoward, how
reluctant, how averse are the hearts of men towards him !
how hard to persuade them to think of him and love him !
Try to persuade men to give over their sins which grieve
him, dishonour him, and were the cause of his death ; try
to engage them to devote themselves entirely to him, and
live to his glory, alas ! you try in vain ; their hearts still
continue cold and hard as a stone ; try to persuade them

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 183

to murder or robbery, and you are more likely to prevail.
Suffer me, in my astonishment, to repeat this most melan-
choly truth again; the generality of mankind are habit-
ually careless about the blessed Jesus ; they will not seek
him, nor give their hearts and affections, though they must
perish for ever by their neglect of him ! Astonishing,
and most lamentable, that ever such perverseness and
stupidity should seize the soul of man! Methinks I
could here take up a lamentation over human nature, and
fall on my knees with this prayer for my fellow men,
" Father of spirits, and Lord of life, quicken, oh quicken
these dead souls!" Oh, Sirs, while we see death all
around us, and feel it benumbing our own souls, who can
help the most bitter wailing and lamentation? who can
restrain himself from crying to the great Author of life for
a happy resurrection ? While the valley of dry bones lies
before me, while the carnage, the charnel-house of im-
mortal souls strikes my sight all around me far and wide,
how can I forbear crying, Come from the four winds, oh
breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live !
But to turn from this digression, into which I was un-
avoidably hurried by the horror of the subject, I would
observe farther, that kind usage and pleasing treatment
may not always be best for such creatures as we are:
fatherly severities and chastisements, though not agreeable
to us, yet may be necessary and conducive to our greatest
good. Accordingly, God has tried the force of chastise-
ments to make impressions on our hearts: these indeed
have been but few in comparison of his more agreeable
dispensations; yet recollect whether you have not fre-
quently felt his rod. Have you not languished under
sickness and pain, and been brought within a near view
of the king of terrors? Have you not suffered the be-
reavement of friends and relations, and met with losses,

184

THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

adversity, and disappointments ? Others have felt still
greater calamities in a closer succession, and with fewer
mercies intermixed. These things, one would think,
would immediately bring men to regard the hand that
smites them, and make them sensible of their undutiful
conduct, which has procured the correction; these are like
the application of fire to one in a lethargy, to awaken him
to life; but alas! under all these afflictions the stupor and
insensibility still remain. Sinners groan by reason of op-
pression, but it is not natural for them to inquire, Where
is God my Maker, that giveth songs in the night ? It is
not natural for them to repent of their undutiful conduct
and amend; or if they are awakened to some little sense,
while the painful rod of the Almighty is yet upon them,
as soon as it is removed they become as hardened and
senseless as ever. And is not a state of death a very
proper representation of such sullen, incorrigible stupidity ?
Living souls have very tender sensations,; one touch of
their heavenly Father's hand makes deep impressions upon
them ; they tremble at his frown, they fall and weep at his
feet, they confess their offences, and mourn over, them;
they fly to the arms of mercy to escape the impending
blow ; and thus would all do were they not quite destitute
of spiritual life.

I have materials sufficient for a discourse of some hours ;
but at present I must abruptly drop the subject : however,
I cannot dismiss you without making a few reflections.
And,

1. What a strange, affecting view does this subject give
us of this assembly ! I doubt not but I may accommodate
the text to some of you with this agreeable addition,
" You hath he quickened, though you were once dead in
trespasses and sins." Though the vital pulse beats faint
and irregular, and your spiritual life is but very low, yet,

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 185

blessed be God, you are not entirely dead : you have some
living sensations, some lively and vigorous exercises in re-
ligion. On the other hand, I doubt not but some of you
not only were, but still are, dead in trespasses and sins.
It is not to be expected in our world, at least not before
the millennium, that we shall see such a mixed company
together, and all living souls. Here then is the difference
between you; some of you are spiritually alive, and some
of you are spiritually dead; here the living and the dead
are blended together in the same assembly, on the same
seat, and united in the nearest relations: here sits a dead
soul, there another, and there another, and a few living
souls scattered here and there among them ; here is a dead
parent and a living child, or a dead child and a living
parent ; here life and death (oh, shocking !) are united in
the bonds of conjugal love, and dwell under the same
roof : here is a dead servant and a living master : and there
a dead master (oh, terrible!) commands a living servant.
Should I trace the distinction beyond this assembly into
the world, we shall find a family here and there that have
a little life ; perhaps one, perhaps two, discover some vital
symptoms ; but oh, what crowds of dead families ! all dead
together, and no endeavours used to bring one another to
life ; a death-like silence about eternal things ; a deadly
stupor and insensibility reign among them ; they breathe
out no desires and prayers after God, nor does the vital
pulse of love beat in their hearts towards him ; but, on the
contrary, their souls are putrefying in sin, which is very
emphatically called corruption by the sacred writers; they
are overrun and devoured by their lusts, and worms insult
and destroy the dead body. Call to them, they will not
awake ; thunder the terrors of the Lord in their ears, they
will not hear ; offer them all the blessings of the gospel,
they will not stretch out the hand of faith to receive them ;

VOL. I.— 24

186 THE NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY

lay the word of God, the bread of life, before them, they
have no appetite for it. In short, the plain symptoms of
death are upon them : the animal is alive, but alas ! the
spirit is dead towards God. And what an affecting,
melancholy view does this give of this assembly, and of
the world in general ! Oh, that my head were waters, and
mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and
night for the slain of the daughter of my people ! Weep
not for the afflicted, weep not over ghastly corpses dis-
solving into their original dust, but oh! weep for dead
souls. Should God now strike all those persons dead in
this assembly, whose souls are dead in trespasses and sins,
should he lay them all in pale corpses before us, like
Ananias and Sapphira at the apostles' feet, what numbers
of you would never return from this house more, and
what lamentations would there be among the surviving
few! One would lose a husband or a wife, another a
son or a daughter, another a father or a mother ; alas !
would not some whole families be swept off together, all
blended in one promiscuous death? Such a sight as this
would strike terror into the hardiest heart among you.
But what is this to a company of rational spirits slain and
dead in trespasses and sins ? How deplorable and inex-
pressibly melancholy a sight this! Therefore,

2. Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead,
and Christ shall give thee light. This call is directed to
you, dead sinners; which is a sufficient warrant for me to
exhort and persuade you. The principle of reason is still
alive in you; you are also sensible of your own interest,
and feel the workings of self-love. It is God alone that
can quicken you, but he effects this by a power that does
not exclude, but attends rational instructions and per-
suasions to your understanding. Therefore, though I am
sure you will continue dead still if left to yourselves, yet

OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. 187

with some trembling hopes that his power may accompany
my feeble words, and impregnate them with life, I call
upon, I entreat, I charge you sinners to rouse yourselves
out of your dead sleep, and seek to obtain spiritual life !
Now, while my voice sounds in your ears, now, this mo-
ment, waft up this prayer, " Lord, pity a dead soul, a soul
that has been dead for ten, twenty, thirty, forty years or
more, and lain corrupting in sin, and say unto me, Live :
from this moment let me live unto thee." Let this prayer
be still upon your hearts : keep your souls always in a
supplicating posture, and who knows but that he, who
raised Lazarus from the grave, may give you a spiritual
resurrection to a more important life ? But if you wilfully
continue your security, expect in a little time to suffer the
second death ; the mortification will become incurable ; and
then, though you will be still dead to God, yet you will
be " tremblingly alive all over" to the sensation of pain and
torture. Oh that I could gain but this one request of you,
which your own interest so strongly enforces ! but alas ! it
has been so often refused, that to expect to prevail is to
hope against hope.

3. Let the children of God be sensible of their great
happiness in being made spiritually alive. Life is a prin-
ciple, a capacity necessary for enjoyments of any kind.
Without animal life you would be as incapable of animal
pleasures as a stone or a clod; and without spiritual life
you can no more enjoy the happiness of heaven than a
beast or a devil. This therefore is a preparative, a pre-
vious qualification, and a sure pledge and earnest of ever-
lasting life. How highly then are you distinguished, and
what cause have you for gratitude and praise !

4. Let us all be sensible of this important truth, that
it is entirely by grace we are saved. This is the inference
the apostle expressly makes from this doctrine ; and he is

188 NATURE AND UNIVERSALITY OF SPIRITUAL DEATH.

so full of it, that he throws it into a parenthesis, (verse
the 5th,) though it breaks the connection of his discourse ;
and as soon as he has room he resumes it again, (verse
8th,) and repeats it over and over, in various forms, in the
compass of a few verses. By grace ye are saved. By
grace are you saved through faith. It is the gift of God;
— not of yourselves — not of works, (verse 9th.) This,
you see, is an inference that seemed of great importance
to the apostle ; and what can more naturally follow from
the premises ? If we were once dead in sin, certainly it
is owing to the freest grace that we have been quickened;
therefore, when we survey the change, let us cry, " Grace,
grace unto it !"

THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 189

SERMON V.

THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE.

EPHES. ii. 4, 5. — But God, who is rich in mercy, for his
great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were
dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ.

IT is not my usual method to weary your attention by
a long confinement to one subject; and our religion fur-
nishes us with such a boundless variety of important topics,
that a minister who makes them his study will find no
temptation to cloy you with repetitions, but rather finds it
difficult to speak so concisely on one subject, as to leave
room for others of equal importance; however, the sub-
ject of my last discourse was so copious and interesting,
that I cannot dismiss it without a supplement. I there
showed you some of the symptoms of spiritual death ; but
I would not leave you dead as I found you ; and there-
fore I intend now to consider the counterpart of that sub-
ject, and show you the nature and symptoms of spiritual
life.

I doubt not but a number of you have been made alive
to God by his quickening spirit; but many, I fear, still
continue dead in trespasses and sins ; and, while such are
around me, I cannot help imagining my situation some-
thing like that of the prophet Ezekiel (chap, xxxvii.) in
the midst of the valley full of dry bones, spread far and
wide around him ; and should I be asked, Can these dry
bones, can these dead souls live ? I must answer with
him, — Oh, Lord God, thou knowest. Lord, I see no symp-

190 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

toms of life in them, no tendency towards it. I know
nothing is impossible to thee; I firmly believe thou canst
inspire them with life, dry and dead as they are; and
what thy designs are towards them, whether thou intend-
est to exert thy all-quickening power upon them, thou only
knowest, and I would not presume to determine ; but this
I know, that, if they are left to themselves, they will con-
tinue dead to all eternity; for, oh Lord, the experiment
has been repeatedly tried ; thy servant has over and over
made those quickening applications to them, which thy
word, that sacred dispensary, prescribes ; but all in vain :
they still continue dead towards thee, and lie putrefying
more and more in trespasses and sins; however, at thy
command, I would attempt the most unpromising under-
taking ; I would proclaim even unto dry bones and dead
souls, Oh ye dry bones, oh ye dead souls, hear the word
of the Lord ! Ezek. xxxvii. 4. I would also cry aloud
for the animating breath of the Holy Spirit, Come from
the four winds, oh breath, and breathe upon these slain,
that they may live, v. 9.

Ye dead sinners, I would make one attempt more in the
name of the Lord to bring you to life ; and if I have the
least hope of success, it is entirely owing to the encour-
aging peradventure that the quickening spirit of Christ may
work upon your hearts while I am addressing myself to
your ears. And, oh sirs, let us all keep our souls in a
praying posture, throughout this discourse. If one of you
should fall into a swoon or an apoplexy, how would all
about you bestir themselves to bring you to life again !
And alas ! shall dead souls lie so thick among us, in every
assembly, in every family ; and shall no means be used for
their recovery ? Did Martha and Mary apply to Jesus
with all the arts of importunity in behalf of their sick and
deceased brother, and are there not some of you that have

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 191

dead relations, dear friends and neighbours, I mean dead
in the worst sense, "dead in trespasses and sins?" and
will you not apply to Jesus, the Lord of life, and follow
him with your importunate cries, till he come and call
them to life ? Now let parents turn intercessors for their
children, children for their parents, friend for friend, neigh-
bour for neighbour, yea, enemy for enemy. Oh ! should
we all take this method, we might soon expect, to see the
valley of dry bones full of living souls, an exceeding great
army. Ezek. xxxvii. 10.

In praying for this great and glorious event, you do
not pray for an impossibility. Thousands as dead as
they, have obtained a joyful resurrection by the power of
God. Here in my text you have an instance of a pro-
miscuous crowd of Jews and Gentiles that had lain dead
in sin together, and even St. Paul among them, who were
recovered to life, and are now enjoying an immortal life in
the heavenly regions ; and, blessed be God, this spiritual
life is not entirely extinct among us. Among the multi-
tudes of dead souls that we every where meet with, we
find here and there a soul that has very different symp-
toms : once indeed it was like the rest ; but now, while
they are quite senseless of divine things, and have no vital
aspirations after God, this soul cannot be content with the
richest affluence of created enjoyment; it pants and
breathes after God; it feeds upon his word, it feels an
almighty energy in eternal things, and receives vital sensa-
tions from them. It discovers life and vigour in devotion,
and serves the living God with pleasure, though it is also
subject to fits of languishment, and at times seems just ex-
piring, and to lose all sensation. And whence is this vast
difference 1 Why is this soul so different from what it
once was, and what thousands around still are ? Why can
it not, like them, and like itself formerly, lie dead and

192 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

senseless in sin, without any vital impressions or expe-
riences from God or divine things ? The reason is, the
happy reason, my brethren, is, this is a living soul : " God,
out of the great love wherewith he loved it, hath quick-
ened it together with Christ," and hence it is alive to him.

My present design is to explain the nature and proper-
ties of this divine life, and to show you the manner in
which it is usually begun in the soul : I shall open with
the consideration of the last particular.

Here you must observe, that, though spiritual life is in-
stantaneously infused, yet God prepares the soul for its
reception by a course of previous operations. He spent
six days in the creation of the world, though he might
have spoken it into being in an instant. Thus he usually
creates the soul anew after a gradual process of prepara-
tory actions. In forming the first man, he first created
chaos out of nothing, then he digested it into earth ; on
the sixth day he formed and organized the earth into a
body, with all its endless variety of members, juices, mus-
cles, fibres, veins, and arteries; and then, after this pro-
cess, he inspired it with a living soul ; and what was but
a lump of clay, sprung up a perfect man. Thus also the
foetus in the womb is for some months in formation before
the soul, or the principle of life, is infused. In like man-
ner the Almighty proceeds in quickening us with spiritual
life ; we all pass through a course of preparation, though
some through a longer, and some shorter. And as one
reason why the great Creator took up so much time in
the creation of the world, probably was, that he might
allow the angels time for leisurely surveys of the astonish-
ing process, so he may advance thus gradually in the new
creation, that we may observe the various steps of the
operation, and make proper reflections upon it in future
life. My present design is to trace these steps to their

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 193

grand result, that you may know whether ever divine grace
has carried you through this gracious process.

And that you may not fall into needless perplexities, it
may be necessary for me to premise farther, that there is
a great variety in these preparatory operations, and in the
degrees of spiritual life. Indeed the difference is only cir-
cumstantial, for the work is substantially the same, and
spiritual life is substantially the same in all ; but then, in
such circumstances as the length of time, the particular
external means, the degree of previous terror, and of sub-
sequent joy and vitality, &c., God exercises a sovereign
freedom, and shows that he has a variety of ways by
which to accomplish his end; and it is no matter how we
obtain it, if we have but spiritual life. I shall therefore
endeavour to confine myself to the substance of this work,
without its peculiarities, in different subjects; and, when
I cannot avoid descending to particulars, I shall endeavour
so to diversify them, as that they may be easily adapted to
the various cases of different Christians. To draw their
common lineaments, whereby they may be distinguished
from all others, is sufficient to my present purpose:
whereas, to draw the particular lineaments, or peculiar
features, whereby they may be distinguished from one an-
other, is a very difficult task, and cannot be of any great
service to what I have now in design.

I have only one thing more to premise, and that is, that
the way by which divine grace prepares a sinner for spir-
itual life, is by working upon all the principles of the
rational life, and exciting him to exert them to the utmost
to obtain it. Here it is proper for you to recollect what
I observed in my last discourse, that even a sinner dead in
trespasses and sins, is alive and capable of action in other
respects: he can not only perform the actions and feel the
sensations of animal life, but he can also exercise his in-

VOL. II.— 26

194 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

tellectual powers about intellectual objects, and even about
divine things : he is capable of thinking of these, and of
receiving some impressions from them : he is also capable
of attending upon the ordinances of the gospel, and per-
forming the external duties of religion. These things a
sinner may do, and yet be dead in sin. Indeed he will not
exercise his natural powers about these things while left to
himself: he has the power, but then he has no disposition
to employ it : he is indeed capable of meditating upon
spiritual things, but what does this avail when he will not
turn his mind to such objects 1 or if he does, he considers
them as mere speculations, and not as the most interesting
and important realities. How few, or how superficial and
unaffecting are a sinner's thoughts of them ! Heaven and
hell are objects that may strike the passions, and raise the
joys and fears of a natural man, but in general he is little
or nothing impressed with them. He is capable of prayer,
hearing, and using the means of grace; but I believe, if
you make observations upon the conduct of mankind, that
you will find they are but seldom employed in these duties,
or that they perform them in such a careless manner, that
that they have no tendency to answer the end of their in-
stitution. In short, the more I know of mankind, I have
the lower opinion of what they will do in religion when
left to themselves. They have a natural power, and we
have seen all possible means used with them to excite them
to put it forth ; but alas ! all is in vain, ajid nothing will
be done to purpose till God stir them up to exert their
natural abilities ; and this he performs as a preparative for
spiritual life. He brings the sinner to exert all his active
powers in seeking this divine principle : nature does her
utmost, and all outward means are tried before a super-
natural principle is implanted.

The evangelist John has given us the history of the re-

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 195

surrection of the dead body of Lazarus after it had been
four days in the grave; and I would now give you the
history of a more glorious resurrection, the resurrection of
a soul that had lain dead for months and years, yet is at
last quickened by the same almighty power with a divine
and immortal life.

Should I exemplify it by a particular instance, I might
fix upon this or that person in this assembly, and remind
you, and inform others, of the process of this work in your
souls. And oh ! how happy are such of you, that you
may be produced as instances in this case !

You lay for ten, twenty, thirty years, or more, dead in
traspasses and sins ; you did not breathe and pant like a
living soul after God and holiness ; you had little more
sense of the burden of sin than a corpse of the pressure
of a mountain ; you had no appetite for the living bread
that came down from heaven ; the vital pulse of sacred
passions did not beat in your hearts towards God and
divine things, but you lay putrefying in sin ; filthy lusts
preyed upon you like worms on the bodies of the dead ;
you spread the contagion of sin around you by your con-
versation and example, like the stench and corrupt effluvia
of a rotten carcass ; you were odious and abominable to
God, fit to be shut up in the infernal pit, out of his sight :
and you were objects of horror and lamentation to all that
knew and daily considered your case, your deplorable
case. During this time many quickening applications
were made to you ; you had friends that used all means to
bring you to life again ; but alas ! all in vain ; conscience
proved your friend, and pierced and chafed you, to bring
you to some feeling, but you remained still senseless, or
the symptoms of life soon vanished. God did not cast
you away as irrecoverably dead, but stirred and agitated
you within, and struggled long with the principles of

196 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

death to subdue them : and if it was your happy lot to live
under a faithful ministry, the living oracles that contain the
seeds of the divine life were applied to you with care and
solicitude. The terrors of t}ie Lord were thundered in
your ears to awaken you. The experiment of a Saviour's
dying love, and the rich grace of the gospel, were repeat-
edly tried upon you: now you were carried within hear-
ing of the heavenly music, and within sight of the glories
of Paradise, to try if these would charm you; now you
were, as it were, held over the flames of hell, that they
might by their pungent pains scorch and startle you into
life. Providence also concurred with these applications,
and tried to recover you by mercies and judgments, sick-
ness and health, losses and possessions, disappointments
and successes, threatenings and deliverances. If it was
your unhappy lot to lie among dead souls like yourself,
you had indeed but little pity from them, nay, they and
Satan were plying you with their opiates and poison to
confirm the deadly sleep. And oh ! how astonishing is it
that you should be quickened in a charnel-house, in the
mansions of the dead, with dead souls lying all around you !
But if it was your happiness to be in the society of the
living, they pitied you, they stirred and agitated you with
their warnings and persuasions, they, like Martha and
Mary in behalf of their deceased brother, went to Jesus
with their cries and importunities, " Lord, my child, my
parent, my servant, my neighbour is dead, oh come and
restore him to life ! Lord, if thou hadst been here, he
would not have died ; but even now I know it is not too
late for thee to raise him." Thus, when one is dead in
our heavenly Father's family, the whole house should be
alarmed, and all the domestics be busy in trying to bring
him to life again. But, oh ! reflect with shame and sor-
row how long all these quickening applications were in

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 197

vain; you still lay in a dead sleep, or, if at times you
seemed to move, and gave us hopes you were coming to
life again, you soon relapsed, and grew as senseless as
ever. And alas ! are there not some of you in this con-
dition to this very moment ? Oh deplorable sight ! May
the hour come, and oh that this may be the hour, in
which such dead souls shall hear the voice of the Son of
God, and live. John v. 25.

But as to such of you in whom I would exemplify this
history of a spiritual resurrection, when your case was thus
deplorable, and seemingly helpless, the happy hour, the
time of love came, when you must live. When all these
applications had been unsuccessful, the all-quickening Spirit
of God had determined to exert more of his energy, and
work more effectually upon you. Perhaps a verse in your
Bible, a sentence in a sermon, an alarming Providence, the
conversation of a pious friend, or something that unexpect-
edly occurred to your own thoughts, first struck your
minds with unusual force ; you found you could not harden
yourselves against it as you were wont to do; it was
attended with a power you never before had felt, and which
you could not resist; this made you thoughtful and pensive,
and turned your minds to objects that you were wont to
neglect; this made you stand and pause, and think of the
state of your neglected souls; you began to fear matters
were wrong with you ; " What will become of me, when I
leave this world 1 Where shall I reside for ever 1 Am I
prepared for the eternal world ? How have I spent my
life?" These, and the like inquiries, put you to a stand,
and you could not pass over them so superficially as you
were wont to do ; your sins now appeared to you in a new
light; you were shocked and surprised at their malignant
nature, their number, their aggravations, and their dread-
ful consequences. The great God, whom you were wont

198 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

to neglect, appeared to you as a Being that demanded your
regard ; you saw he was indeed a venerable, awful, ma-
jestic Being, with whom you had the most important con-
cern : in short, you saw that such a life as you had led
would never bring you to heaven : you saw you must
make religion more your business than you had ever done,
and hereupon you altered your former course : you broke
off from several of your vices, you deserted your extrava-
gant company, and you began to frequent the throne of
grace, to study religion, and to attend upon its institutions :
and this you did with some degree of earnestness and
solicitude.

When you were thus reformed, you began to flatter
yourself that you had escaped out of your dangerous con-
dition, and secured the divine favour : now you began to
view yourselves with secret self-applause as true Christians ;
but all this time the reformation was only outward, and
there was no new principle of a divine supernatural life
implanted in your hearts : you had not the generous pas-
sions and sensations of living souls towards God, but acted
entirely from natural, selfish principles: you had no clear
heart-affecting views of the intrinsic evil, and odious nature
of sin, considered in itself, nor of the entire universal cor-
ruption of your nature, and the necessity not only of adorn-
ing your outer man by an external reformation, but of an
inward change of heart by the almighty power of God :
you were not deeply sensible of the extent and spirituality
of the divine law, nor of the infinite purity and inexorable
justice of the Deity: you had no love for religion and
virtue for their own sakes, but only on account of their
happy consequences. Indeed your love of novelty and a
regard to your own happiness might so work upon you,
for a time, that you might have very raised and delightful
passions in religious duties; but all your religion at that

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 199

time was a mere system of selfishness, and you had no
generous disinterested delight in holiness for its own excel-
lency, nor did you heartily relish the strictness of pure,
living religion : you were also under the government of a
self-righteous spirit: your own good works were the
ground of your hopes, and you had no relish for the mor-
tifying doctrine of salvation through the mere mercy of
God and the righteousness of Jesus Christ: though your
education taught you to acknowledge Christ as the only
Saviour, and ascribe all your hopes to his death, yet in
reality he was of very little importance in your religion ; he
had but little place in your heart and affections, even when
you urged his name as your only plea at the throne of
grace : in short you had not the spirit of the gospel, nor
any spiritual life within you. And this is all the religion
with which multitudes are contented : with this they obtain
a name that they live; but in ;the sight of God, and in
reality, they are dead ; and had you been suffered to rest
here, according to your own desire, you would have been
dead still.

But God, who is rich (oh how inconceivably rich!) in
mercy, for the great love wherewith he loved you, resolved
to carry on his works in you ; and therefore, while you
were flattering yourselves, and elated with a proud conceit
of a happy change in your condition, he surprised you
with a very different view of your case; he opened your
eyes farther, and then you saw, you felt those things of
which, till then, you had but little sense or apprehension ;
such as the corruption of your hearts, the awful strictness
of the divine law, your utter inability to yield perfect obe-
dience, and the necessity of an inward change of the incli-
nations and relishes of your soul. These, and a great
many other things of a like nature, broke in upon your
minds with striking evidence and a kind of almighty energy;

200 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

and now you saw you were still " dead in sin," weak, indis-
posed, averse towards spiritual things, and " dead in law,"
condemned to everlasting death and misery by its righteous
sentence : now you set about the duties of religion with
more earnestness than ever; now you prayed, you heard,
and used the other means of grace as for your life, for you
saw that your eternal life was indeed at stake ; and now,
when you put the matter to a thorough trial, you were
more sensible than ever of your own weakness, and the
difficulties in your way. " Oh ! who would have thought
my heart had been so depraved that it should thus fly off
from God, and struggle, and reluctate against returning to
him ?" Such was then your language. Alas ! you found
yourselves quite helpless, and all your efforts feeble and
ineffectual: then you perceived yourselves really dead in
sin, and that you must continue so to all eternity, unless
quickened by a power infinitely superior to your own;
not that you lay slothful and inactive at this time; no,
never did you exert yourselves so vigorously in all
your life, never did you besiege the throne of grace
with such earnest importunity, never did you hear and
read with such eager attention, or make such a vigorous
resistance against sin and temptation : all your natural
powers were exerted to the highest pitch, for now you
saw your case required it : but you found all your most
vigourous endeavours insufficient, and you were sensible
that, without the assistance of a superior power, the work
of religion could never be effected.

Now you were reduced very low indeed. While you
imagined you could render yourselves safe by a reformation
in your own power, you were not much alarmed at your
condition, though you saw it bad. But oh ! to feel your-
selves dead in sin, and that you cannot help yourselves; to
see yourselves in a state of condemnation, liable to execu-

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 201

tion every moment, and yet to find all your own endea-
vours utterly insufficient to relieve you ; to be obliged, after
all you had done, to lie at mercy, and confess that you were
as deserving of everlasting punishment as ever the most
notorious criminal was of the stroke of public justice ; this
was a state of extreme dejection, terror, and anxiety in-
deed. The proud, self-confident creature was never tho-
roughly mortified and humbled till now, when he is
slain by the law, and entirely cut off from all hopes from
himself.

And now, finding you could not save yourselves, you
began to cast about you, and look out for another to save
you: now you were more sensible than ever of the abso-
lute need of Jesus ; and you cried and reached after him,
and stirred up yourselves to take hold of him. The gospel
brought the free offer of him to your ears, and you would
fain have accepted of him ; but here new difficulties arose.
Alas! you did not think yourselves good enough to accept
of him, and hence you took a great deal of fruitless pains
to make yourselves better: you also found your hearts
strangely averse to the gospel-method of salvation, and,
though a sense of your necessity made you try to work up
yourselves to an approbation of it, yet you could not affec-
tionately acquiesce in it, and cordially relish it.

And now, how melancholy was your situation ! You
were " shut up unto the faith ;" Gal. iii. 23 ; there was no
other possible way of escape, and yet, alas ! you could not
take this way : now you were ready to cry, " I am cut off
my strength and my hope are perished from the Lord;"
but, blessed be God, he did not leave you in this condition.
Man's extremity of distress is God's opportunity for relief
and salvation ; and so you found it.

Now the process of preparatory operations is just come
to a result. Now it is time for God to work, for nature has

VOL. I.— 26

202 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

done her utmost, and has been found utterly insufficient ;
now it is proper a divine, supernatural principle should be
infused, for all the principles of nature have failed, and the
proud sinner is obliged to own it, and stand still, and see
the salvation of God. In this situation you wanted nothing
but such a divine principle to make you living Christians
indeed. These preparatives were like the taking away
the stone from the sepulchre of Lazarus, which was a pre-
lude of that almighty voice which called him from the
dead. Now you appear to me like the dry bones in Eze-
kiel's vision in one stage of the operation. After there
had been a noise, and a shaking among them, and the
bones had come together, bone to his bone ; / beheld, says
he, and lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them,
and the skin covered them above ; but there was no breath
in them; Ezek. xxxvii. 8; this was all that was wanting
to making them living men. In like manner you, at this
time, had the external appearance of Christians, but you
had no divine supernatural life in you ; you were but the
fair carcasses of Christians ; your religion had a body com-
pletely formed, but it had no soul in it; and had the holy
Spirit now given over his work, you would have continued
dead still.

But now the important crisis is come, when he who
stood over the grave of Lazarus, and pronounced the life-
restoring mandate, Lazarus, come forth ! when he who
breathed into Adam the breath of life, and made him a
living soul; I say, now the crisis is come, when he will im-
plant the principles of life in your souls; suddenly you feel
the amazing change, and find you are acting from princi-
ples entirely new to you ; for now your hearts that were
wont to reluctate, and start back from God, rise to him
with the strongest aspirations: now the way of salvation
through Christ, which you could never relish before, ap-

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 203

pears all amiable and glorious, .and captivates your whole
souls. Holiness has lovely and powerful charms, which
captivate you to the most willing obedience, notwithstand-
ing your former disgust to it; and though once you were
enamoured with sin, and disliked it only because you could
not indulge it with impunity, it now appears to you a
mere mass of corruption and deformity, an abominable
thing, which you hate above all other things on earth or
in hell. At this juncture you were animated with a new
life in every faculty of your souls, and hereupon you felt
the instincts, the appetites, the sympathies and antipathies
of a new life, a divine life, justly styled by the apostle the
life of God; the life of God in the soul of man. The pulse of
sacred passions began to beat towards spirtual objects ; the
vital warmth of love spread itself through your whole
frame; you breathed out your desires and prayers before
God ; like a new-born infant you began to cry after him,
and at times you have learned to lisp his name with filial
endearment, and cry Abba Father ; you hungered and
thirsted after righteousness, and as every kind of life must
have its proper nourishment, so your spiritual life fed upon
Christ, the living bread, and the sincere milk of his word.
You also felt a new set of sensations; divine things now
made deep and tender impressions upon you; the great
realities of religion and eternity now affected you in a
manner unknown before; you likewise found your souls
actuated with life and vigour in the service of God, and in
the duties you owed to mankind. This strange alteration
no doubt filled you with surprise and amazement, some-
thing like that of Adam when he found himself start into
life out of his eternal non-existence. With these new
sensations everything appeared to you in a quite different
light, and you could not but wonder that you had never
perceived them in that manner before.

204 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

Thus, my dear brethren, when you were even dead in
sin, God quickened you together with Christ. It is true,
the principle of life might be very weak at first, like the
life of a new-born infant, or a foetus just animated in the
womb; nay, it may be but very weak still, and at times
may languish, and seem just expiring in the agonies of
death; but, blessed be the quickening Spirit of Christ,
since the happy hour of your resurrection you have never
been, and you never will be to all eternity, what you once
were, " dead in trespasses and sins." Should I give you
your own history since that time, it would be to this pur-
pose, and you will discern many symptoms of life in it.
You have often known what sickness of soul is, as well as
of body ; and sometimes it has risen to such a height as to
endanger your spiritual life. The seeds of sin, that still
lurk in your constitution, like the principles of death, or a
deadly poison circulating through your veins, have often
struggled for the mastery, and cast you into languishing or
violent disorders: then was the divine life oppressed, and
you could not freely draw the breath of prayer and pious
desires; you lost the appetite for the word of God, and
what you received did not digest well and turn to kindly
nourishment ; the pulse of sacred passions beat faint and
irregular, the vital heat decayed, and you felt a death-like
cold creeping upon you and benumbing you. Sometimes
you have been afflicted, perhaps, with convulsions of
violent and outrageous passions, with the dropsy of in-
satiable desires after things below, with the lethargy of
carnal security, or the fever of lust: at other times you
have felt an universal disorder through your whole frame,
and you hardly knew what ailed you, only you were sure
your souls were not well; but perhaps your most common
disorder that seizes you is a kind of consumption, a low-
ness of spirits, a languor and weakness, the want of appe-

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 205

tite for your spiritual food, or perhaps a nausea and disgust
towards it; you also live in a country very unwholesome
to living souls; you dwell among the dead, and catch con-
tagion from the conversation of those around you, and this
heightens the disorder: and further, that old serpent the
devil labours to infect you with his deadly poison, and in-
crease the peccant humours by his temptations : at such
times you can hardly feel any workings of spiritual life in
you, and you fear you are entirely dead; but examine
strictly, and you will discover some vital symptoms even
in this bad habit of soul; for does not your new nature
exert itself to work off the disorder? Are not your spirits
in a ferment, and do you not feel yourselves in exquisite
pain, or at least greatly uneasy? Give all the world to a
sick man, and he despises it all : " Oh, give me my health,"
says he, " or you give me nothing." So it is with you ;
nothing can content you while your souls are thus out of
order. Do you not long for their recovery, that you may
go about your business again; I mean that you may en-
gage in the service of God with all the vigour of health ?
and do you not apply to Christ as your only physician in
this condition ? And oh ! what an healing balm is his
blood ! what a reviving cordial is his love ! and how kindly
does his Spirit purge off the corrupt humours, and subdue
the principles of sin and death! Has not experience
taught you the meaning of the apostle, when he says,
Christ is our life : and I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth
in me, Gal. ii. 20. Do you not perceive that Christ is
your vital head, and that you revive or languish just as he
communicates or withholds his influence ? And have you
not been taught in the same way what is the meaning of
that expression so often repeated, The just shall live by
faith ? Hab. ii. 4. Do you not find that faith is, as it
were, the grand artery by which you derive life from

206 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

Christ, and by which it is circulated through your whole
frame; and that when faith languishes, then you weaken,
pine away, and perhaps fall into a swoon, as though you
were quite dead? Are you not careful of the health of
your souls ? You endeavour to keep them warm with the
love of God; you shun those sickly regions as far as you
can, where the example and conversation of the wicked
spread their deadly infection, and you love to dwell among
living souls, and breathe in their wholesome air. Upon
the whole, it is evident, notwithstanding your frequent in-
dispositions, you have some life within you; life takes oc-
casion to show itself even from your disorders. It is a
plain symptom of it, that you have something within you,
that makes such a vigorous resistance against the princi-
ples of sin and death, and throws your whole frame into a
ferment, till it has wrought off the distemper. In short,
you have the sensations, the sympathies and antipathies,
the pleasures and pains of living souls.

And is it so indeed? Then from this moment begin to
rejoice and bless the Lord, who raised you to spiritual life.
Oh, let the hearts he has quickened beat with his love ; let
the lips he has opened, when quivering in death, speak his
praise, and devote that life to him which he has given you,
and which he still supports!

Consider what a divine and noble kind of life he has
given you. It is a capacity and aptitude for the most ex-
alted and divine services and enjoyments. Now you have
a relish for the Supreme Good as your happiness, the only
proper food for your immortal souls, and he will not suffer
you to hunger and thirst in vain, but will satisfy the ap-
petites he has implanted in your nature. You have some
spirit and life in his service, and are not like the dead souls
around you, that are all alive toward other objects, but abso-
lutely dead towards him: you have also noble and exalted

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 207

sensations ; you are capable of a set of pleasures of a more
refined and sublime nature than what are relished by
grovelling sinners. From your inmost souls you detest
and nauseate whatever is mean, base, and abominable, and
you can feast on what is pure, amiable, excellent, and
worthy of your love. Your vitiated taste for trash and
poison is cured, and you feed upon heavenly bread, upon
food agreeable to the constitution of your spiritual nature j
and hence you may infer your meetness for the heavenly
world, that region of perfect vitality. You have a disposi-
tion for its enjoyments and services, and this is the grand
preparative. God will not encumber the heaven of his glory
with dead souls, nor infect the pure salubrious air of
paradise with the poison of their corruption : but the ever-
lasting doors are always open for living souls, and not one
of them shall ever be excluded; nay, the life of heaven is
already within you; the life that reigns with immortal
health and vigour above, is the very same with that which
works in your breasts; only there it is arrived to maturity
and perfection, and here it is in its rudiments and weak-
ness. Your animal life, which was hardly perceivable in
the womb, was the very same with that which now pos-
sesses you, only now it is come to perfection. Thus you
are now angels in embryo, the foetus (might I be allowed
the expression) of glorified immortals; and when you are
born out of the womb of time into the eternal world, this
feeble spark of spiritual life will kindle and blaze, and ren-
der you as active and vigorous as " the rapt seraph that
adores and burns." Then you will fear no more weak-
ness, no more languors, no more qualms of indisposition ;
the poison of temptation, and the contagion of bad example
cannot reach you there; and the inward seeds of sickness
and death will be purged entirely out of your soul : you
will be got quite out of the sickly country, and breathe a

208 THE NATURE AND PROCESS

pure reviving air, the natural element of your souls.
There you will find the fountain, yea, whole rivers of the
waters of life, of which you will drink in large draughts
for ever and ever, and which will inspire you with im-
mortal life and vigour. Oh, how happy are you in this
single gift of spiritual life ! this is a life that cannot perish,
even in the ruins of the world. What though you must
ere long yield your mortal bodies and animal life to death
and rottenness ? your most important life is immortal, and
subject to no such dissolution; and therefore be courageous
in the name of the Lord, and bid defiance to all the
calamities of life, and all the terrors of death ; for your life
is hid with Christ in God ; and when Christ, who is our
life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in
glory. Col. iii. 3, 4.

I would willingly go on in this strain, and leave the
pulpit with a relish of these delightful truths upon my
spirit ; but, alas ! I must turn my address to another set
of persons in this assembly; but "where is the Lord God
of Elijah," who restored the Shunamite's son to life by
means of that prophet? I am going to call to the dead,
and I know they will not hear, unless he attend my feeble
voice with his almighty power. I would pray over you
like Elijah over the dead child, Oh LORD my God, I pray
thee, let this sinner's life come into him again. 1 Kings
xvii. 21. Are not the living and the dead promiscuously
blended in this assembly ? Here is a dead soul, there an-
other, and there another all over the house ; and here and
there a few living souls thinly scattered among them.
Have you ever been carried through such a preparatory
process as I have described ? or if you are uncertain about
this, as some may be who are animated with spiritual life,
inquire, have you the feelings, the appetites and aversions,
the pleasing and the painful sensations of living souls ?

OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 209

Methiriks conscience breaks its, silence in some of you,
whether you will or not, and cries, " Oh no ; there is not
a spark of life in this breast."

Well, my poor deceased friends, (for so I may call you,)
I hope you will seriously attend to what I am going seri-
ously to say to you. I have no bad design upon you, but
only to restore you to life. And though your case is
really discouraging, yet I hope it is not quite desperate.
The principles of nature, reason, self-love, joy, and fear,
are still alive in you, and you are capable of some appli-
cation to divine things. And, as I told you, it is upon the
principles of nature that God is wont to work, to prepare
the soul for the infusion of a supernatural life. And
these I would now work upon, in hopes you are not
proof against considerations of the greatest weight and
energy; I earnestly beg you would lay to heart such things
as these.

Can you content yourselves with an animal life, the life
of beasts, with that superfluity, reason, just to render you
a more ingenious and self-tormenting kind of brutes ; more
artful in gratifying your sordid appetites, and yet still un-
easy for want of an unknown something ; a care that the
brutal world, being destitute of reason, are unmolested
with ? Oh ! have you no ambition to be animated with a
divine immortal life, the life of God ?

Can you be contented with a mere temporal life, when
your souls must exist for ever ? That infinite world be-
yond the grave is replenished with nothing but the terrors
of death to you, if you are destitute of spiritual life. And
oh ! can you bear the thought of residing among its grim
and ghastly terrors for ever ?

Are you contented to be cut off from God, as a morti-
fied member from the body, and to be banished for ever
from all the joys of his presence ? You cannot be ad-

VOL. I.— 27.

210 THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE.

mitted to heaven without spiritual life. Hell is the sepul-
chre for dead souls, and thither you must be sent, if you
still continue dead. And does not this thought affect vou ?

*/

Consider, also, now is the only time in which you can
be restored to life. And oh ! will you let it pass by with-
out improvement ?

Shall all the means that have been used for your revival
be in vain ? Or the strivings of the Spirit, the alarms of
your own consciences, the blessings and chastisements of
Providence, the persuasions, tears, and lamentations of
your living friends ; Oh ! shall all these be in vain ? Can
you bear the thought ? Surely, no. Therefore, oh heave
and struggle to burst the chains of death ! Cry mightily
to God to quicken you. Use all the means of vivification,
and avoid every deadly and contagious thing.

I know not, my brethren, how this thought will affect
us at parting to-day, that we have left behind us many a
dead soul. But suppose we should leave as many bodies
here behind us as there are dead souls among us; suppose
every sinner destitute of spiritual life should now be struck
dead before us, oh how would this floor be overlaid with
dead corpses ! How few of us would escape ! What
bitter lamentations and tears would be among us ! One
would lose a husband or a wife, another a friend or a
neighbour. And have we hearts to mourn, and tears to
shed over such an event as this, and have we no compas-
sion for dead souls 1 Is there none to mourn over them ?
Sinners, if you will still continue dead, there are some
here to-day who part with you with this wish, Oh that my
head were waters, and mine eyes a. fountain of tears, that
1 might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter
of my people ! And oh that our mournings may reach
the Lord of life, and that you might be quickened from
your death in trespasses and sins ! Amen and amen.

CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 211

SERMON VI.

POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF THE DIVINE

FAVOUR.

ISAIAH Ixvi. 2. — To this man will I look, even to him that
is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my
word.

As we consist of animal bodies as well as immortal
souls, and are endowed with corporeal senses as well as
rational powers, God, who has wisely adapted our religion
to our make, requires bodily as well as spiritual worship ;
and commands us not only to exercise the inward powers
of our minds in proper acts of devotion, but also to ex-
press our inward devotion by suitable external actions, and
to attend upon him in the sensible outward ordinances
which he has appointed. Thus it is under the gospel; but
it was more remarkably so under the law, which, com-
pared with the pure and spiritual worship of the gospel,
was a system of carnal ordinances, and required a great
deal of external pomp and grandeur, and bodily services.
Thus a costly and magnificent structure was erected, by
divine direction, in the wilderness, called the tabernacle,
because built in the form of a tent, and movable from
place to place ; and afterwards a most stately temple was
built by Solomon, with immense cost, where the divine
worship should be statedly celebrated, and where all the
males of Israel should solemnly meet for that purpose three
times in a year.

These externals were not intended to exclude the in-

212 POOR AND CONTITE SPIRITS

ternal worship of the Spirit, but to express and assist it.
And these ceremonials were not to be put into the place
of morals, but observed as helps to the practice of them,
and to prefigure the great Messiah : even under the Mo-
saic dispensation, God had the greatest regard to holiness
of heart and a good life; and the strictest observer of
ceremonies could not be accepted without them.

But it is natural to degenerate mankind to invert the
order of things, to place a part, the easiest and meanest
part of religion, for the whole of it, to rest in the exter-
nals of religion as sufficient, without regarding the heart,
and to depend upon pharisaical strictness in ceremonial
observances, as an excuse or atonement for neglecting
the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith.

This was the unhappy error of the Jews in Isaiah's
time; and this the Lord would correct in the first verses
of this chapter.

The Jews gloried in their having the house of God
among them, and were ever trusting in vain words, saying,
The temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the tem-
ple of the LORD are these. Jer. vii. 4. They filled his al-
tars with costly sacrifices; and in these they trusted to
make atonement for sin, and secure the divine favour.

As to their sacrifices God lets them know, that while
they had no regard to their morals, but chose their own
ways, and their souls delighted in their abominations,
while they presented them in a formal manner without
the fire of divine love, their sacrifices were so far from
procuring his acceptance, that they were odious to him.
He abhors their most expensive offerings as abominable
and profane. He that kitteth an ox for sacrifice is as far
from being accepted as if he unjustly slew a man ; he that
sacrificeth a lamb, as if he cut off a dog^s neck, $-c. Isaiah
Ixvi. 3.

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 213

To remove this superstitious .confidence in the temple,
the Lord informs them that he had no need of it; that,
large and magnificent as it was, it was not fit to contain
him ; and that, in consecrating it to him, they should not
proudly think that they had given him anything to which
he had no prior right. " Thus saith the Lord, the heaven
is my throne, where I reign conspicuous in the visible
majesty and grandeur of a God ; and though the earth is
not adorned with such illustrious displays of my immedi-
ate presence, though it does not shine in all the glory of
my royal palace on high, yet it is a little province in my
immense empire, and subject to my authority ; it is my
footstool. If, then, heaven is my throne, and earth is my
footstool ; if the whole creation is my kingdom, where is
the house that ye build unto me ? where is your tem-
ple which appears so stately in your eyes ? it is van-
ished, it is sunk into nothing. Is it able to contain
that infinite Being to whom the whole earth is but an
humble footstool, and the vast heaven but a throne ? Can
you vainly imagine that my presence can be confined to
you in the narrow bounds of a temple, when the heaven
and the heaven of heavens cannot contain me ? Where is
the place of my rest ? can you provide a place for my re-
pose, as though I were weary ? or can my presence be
restrained to one place, incapable of acting beyond the
prescribed limits ? No ; infinite space only can equal my
being and perfections ; infinite space only is a sufficient
sphere for my operations.

" Can you imagine you can bribe my favour, and give
me something I had no right to before, by all the stately
buildings you can rear to my name ? Is not universal
nature mine ? For all these things hath mine hand made
out of nothing, and all these things have been or still sub-
sist by the support of my all-preserving hand, and what

214 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

right can be more valid and inalienable than that founded
upon creation ? Your silver and gold are mine and mine
the cattle upon a thousand hills : and therefore of mine
own do you give me, saith the Lord."

These are such majestic strains of language as are
worthy a God. Thus it becomes him to advance himself
above the whole creation, and to assert his absolute pro-
perty in, and independency upon, the universe.

Had he only turned to us the bright side of his throne,
that dazzles us with insufferable splendor; had he only
displayed his majesty unallayed with grace and condescen-
sion in such language as this, it would have overwhelmed
us, and cast us into the most abject despondency, as the
outcasts of his providence, beneath his notice. We might
fear he would overlook us with majestic disdain, or care-
less neglect, like the little things that are called great by
mortals, or as the busy emmets of our species are apt to
do. In the hurry of business they are liable to neglect,
and in the power of pride and grandeur to overlook or
disdain their dependents. We should be ready, in hope-
less anxiety, to say, " Is all this earth which to us appears
so vast, and which is parceled into a thousand mighty king-
doms, as we call them, is it all but the humble foot-stool of
God 1 hardly worthy to bear his feet ? What then am I ?
an atom of an atom-world, a trifling individual of a trifling
race. Can I expect he will take any notice of such an insig-
nificant thing as I ? The vast affairs of heaven and earth lie
upon his head, and he is employed in the concerns of the
wide universe, and can he find leisure to concern himself
with me, and my little interests ? Will a king, deliber-
ating upon the concerns of nations, interest himself in
favour of the worm that crawls at his footstool ? If the
magnificent temple of Solomon was unworthy of the divine
inhabitant, will he admit me into his presence, and give

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 215

me audience ? how can I expect it ? It seems daring and
presumptuous to hope for such condescension. And shall
I then despair of the gracious regard of my Maker."

No, desponding creature ! mean and unworthy as thou
art, hear the voice of divine condescension, as well as of
majesty : To this man will I look, even to him that is poor,
and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word.
Though God dwelleth not in temples made with hands,
though he pours contempt upon princes, and scorns them
in all their haughty glory and affected majesty, yet there
are persons whom his gracious eye will regard. The high
and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, and dwelleth in the
high and holy place, he will look down through all the
shining ranks of angels upon — whom ? Not on the proud,
the haughty and presumptuous, but upon him that is poor
and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at his word. To
this man will he look from the throne of his majesty, how-
ever low, however mean he may be. This man is an
object that can, as it were, attract his eyes from all the
glories of the heavenly world, so as to regard an humble,
self-abasing worm. This man can never be lost or over-
looked among the multitudes of creatures, but the eyes of
the Lord will discover him in the greatest crowd, his eyes
will graciously fix upon this man, this particular man,
though there were but one such in the compass of the
creation, or though he were banished into the remotest
corner of the universe, like a diamond in a heap of rub-
bish, or at the bottom of the ocean.

Do you hear this, you that are poor and contrite in
spirit, and that tremble at his word ? ye that, above all
others, are most apt to fear you shall be disregarded by
him, because you, of all others, are most deeply sensible
how unworthy you are of his gracious notice : God, the
great, the glorious, the terrible God, looks down upon you

216 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

with eyes of love, and by so much the more affectionately,
by how much the lower you are in your own esteem.
Does not your heart spring within you at the sound?
Are you not lost in pleasing wonder and gratitude, and
crying out, " Can it be ? can it be ? is it indeed possible ?
is it true ?" Yes, you have his own word for it, and do
you not think it too good news to be true, but believe, and
rejoice, and give glory to his name; and fear not what
men or devils can do unto you.

This, my brethren, is a matter of universal concern.
It is the interest of each of us to know whether we are
thus graciously regarded by that God on whom our very
being and all our happiness entirely depend. And how
shall we know this? In no other way than by discover-
ing whether we have the characters of that happy man to
whom he condescends to look. These are not pompous
and high characters, they are not formed by earthly riches,
learning, glory, and power : But to this man will I look,
saith the Lord, even to him that is poor and of a contrite
spirit, and that trembleth at my word. Let us inquire into
the import of each of the characters.

I. It is the poor man to whom the Majesty of heaven
condescends to look.

This does not principally refer to those that are poor in
this world ; for, though it be very common that " the poor
of this world are chosen to be rich in faith and heirs of
the kingdom ;" James ii. 5 ; yet this is not a universal rule ;
for many, alas! that are poor in this world are not rich
towards God, nor rich in good works, and therefore shall
famish through eternity in remediless want and wretched-
ness. But the poor here signifies such as Christ charac-
terizes more fully by the poor in spirit ; Matt. v. 3. And
this character implies the following ingredients :

1. The poor man, to whom Jehovah looks, is deeply

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 217

sensible of his own insufficiency, and that nothing but the
enjoyment of God can make him happy.

The poor man feels that he is not formed self-sufficient,
but a dependent upon God. He is sensible of the weak-
ness and poverty of his nature, and that he was not en-
dowed with a sufficient stock of riches in his creation to
support him through the endless duration for which he
was formed, or even for a single day. The feeble vine
does not more closely adhere to the elm than he does to
his God. He is not more sensible of the insufficiency 'of
his body to subsist without air, or the productions of the
earth, than of that of his soul without his God, and the
enjoyment of his love. In short, he is reduced into his
proper place in the system of the universe, low and mean
in comparison with superior beings of the angelic order,
and especially in comparison with the great Parent and
support of nature. He feels himself to be, what he really is,
a poor, impotent, dependent creature, that can neither live,
nor move, nor exist without God. He is sensible that his
sufficiency is of God, 2 Cor. iii. 5, " and that all the springs
of his happiness are in him."

This sense of his dependence upon God is attended
with a sense of the inability of all earthly enjoyments to
make him happy, and fill the vast capacities of his soul,
which were formed for the enjoyment of an infinite good.
He has a relish for the blessings of this life, but it is at-
tended with a sense of their insufficiency, and does not
exclude a stronger relish for the superior pleasures of re-
ligion. He is not a precise hermit, or a sour ascetic, on
the one hand ; and, on the other, he is not a lover of plea-
sure more than a lover of God.

If he enjoys no great share of the comforts of this life,
he does not labour, nor so much as wish for them as his
supreme happiness: he is well assured they can never

VOL. I— 28

218 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

answer this end in their greatest affluence. It is for God,
it is for the living God, that his soul most eagerly thirsts.
In the greatest extremity he is sensible that the enjoyment
of his love is more necessary to his felicity than the pos-
session of earthly blessings; nay, he is sensible that if he is
miserable in the absence of these, the principal cause is
the absence of his God. Oh! if he were blest with the
perfect enjoyment of God, he could say, with Habakkuk,
Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit
be in the vine ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the
fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from
the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stall; though
universal famine should strip me of all my earthly bless-
ings, yet I will rejoice in the LORD, as my complete hap-
piness ; I will joy in the God of my salvation. Hab. iii.
17, 18.

If he enjoys an affluence of earthly blessings, he still re-
tains a sense of his need of the enjoyment of God. To
be discontented and dissatisfied is the common fate of the
rich as well as the poor ; they are still craving, craving an
unknown something to complete their bliss. The soul,
being formed for the fruition of the Supreme Good, se-
cretly languishes and pines away in the midst of other en-
joyments, without knowing its cure. It is the enjoyment
of God only that can satisfy its unbounded desires; but,
alas ! it has no relish for him, no thirst after him ; it is still
crying, " More, more of the delights of the world ;" like a
man in a burning fever, that calls for cold water, that will
but inflame his disease, and occasion a more painful return
of thirst. But the poor in spirit know where their cure
lies. They do not ask with uncertainty, Who will show
us any sort of good ? but their petitions centre in this as
the grand constituent of their happiness, LORD, lift thou up
the light of thy countenance upon us; and this puts more

THE OBJECTS Or DIVINE FAVOUR. 219

gladness into their hearts than, the abundance of corn and
wine; Psalm iv. 6, 7. This was the language of the
Psalmist, There is none upon earth that I desire besides
thee. My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever ; Psalm
Ixxiii. 25, 26. And as this disposition extends to all
earthly things, so it does to all created enjoyments what-
soever, even to those of the heavenly world; the poor
man is sensible that he could not be happy even there
without the enjoyment of God. His language is, Whom
have I in heaven but thee ? It is beholding thy face in
righteousness, and awaking in thy likeness, that alone can
satisfy me; Psalm xvii. 15.

2. This spiritual poverty implies deep humility and self-
abasement.

The poor man on whom the God of heaven conde-
scends to look is mean in his own apprehensions; he ac-
counts himself not a being of mighty importance. He has
no high esteem of his own good qualities, but is little in his
own eyes. He is not apt to give himself the preference
to others, but is ready to give way to them as his supe-
riors. He has a generous sagacity to behold their good
qualities, and commendable blindness towards their imper-
fections : but he is not quick to discern his own excellencies,
nor sparing to his own frailties.

Instead of being dazzled with the splendour of his own
endowments or acquisitions, he is apt to overlook them
with a noble neglect, and is sensible of the weakness and
defects of his nature.

And as to his gracious qualities, they appear small, ex-
ceeding small to him: when he considers how much they
fall short of what they should be, they as it were vanish
and shrink into nothing. How cold does his love appear
to him in its greatest fervour ! How feeble his faith in its

220 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

greatest confidence ! How superficial his repentance in
its greatest depth! How proud his lowest humility!
And as for the good actions he has performed, alas! how
few, how poorly done, how short of his duty do they ap-
pear! After he has done all, he coun'ts himself an un-
profitable servant. After he has done all, he is more apt
to adopt the language of the publican than the pharisee,
God be merciful to me a sinner. In his highest attain-
ments he is not apt to admire himself; so far is he from it,
that it is much more natural to him to fall into the op-
posite extreme, and to account himself the least, yea,
less than the least of ah1 other saints upon the face of
the earth: and if he contends for any preference, it is
for the lowest place in the list of Christians. This dis-
position was remarkably exemplified in St. Paul, who
probably had made greater advancements in holiness than
any other saint that was ever received to heaven from this
guilty world.

He that is poor in spirit has also an humbling sense of
his own sinfulness. His memory is quick to recollect his
past sins, and he is very sharp-sighted to discover the re-
maining corruptions of his heart, and the imperfections of
his best duties. He is not ingenious to excuse them, but
views them impartially in all their deformity and aggrava-
tions. He sincerely doubts whether there be a saint upon
earth so exceeding corrupt; and, though he may be con-
vinced that the Lord has begun a work of grace in him,
and consequently, that he is in a better state than such as
are under the prevailing dominion of sin, yet he really
questions whether there be such a depraved creature in
the world as he sees he has been. He is apt to count
himself the chief of sinners, and more indebted to free
grace than any of the sons of men. He is intimately
acquainted with himself; but he sees only the outside of

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 221

others, and hence he concludes himself so much worse
than others; hence he loathes himself in his own sight for
all his abominations. Ezek. xxxvi. 31. Self-abasement is
pleasing to him; his humility is not forced; he does not
think it a great thing for him to sink thus low. He plainly
sees himself to be a mean, sinful, exceeding sinful creature,
and therefore is sure that it is no condescension, but the
most reasonable thing in the world, for him to think
meanly of himself, and to humble and abase himself. It is
unnatural for one that esteems himself a being of great im-
portance to stoop ; but it is easy, and appears no self-denial
for a poor mean creature to do so, who looks upon him-
self, and feels himself, to be such.

Finally, the poor man is deeply sensible of his own un-
worthiness. He sees that in himself he deserves no favour
from God for all the good he has ever done, but that he
may after all justly reject him. He makes no proud boasts
of his good heart, or good life, but falls in the dust before
God, and casts all his dependence upon his free grace : —
which leads me to observe,

3. That he who is poor in spirit is sensible of his need
of the influences of divine grace to sanctify him, and enrich
him with the graces of the Spirit.

He is sensible of the want of holiness; this necessarily
flows from his sense of his corruption, and the imperfection
of all his graces. Holiness is the one thing needful with
him, which he desires and longs for above all others; and
he is deeply sensible that he cannot work it in his own
heart by his own strength ; he feels that without Christ he
can do nothing, and that it is God who must work in him
both to will and to do. Hence like a poor man that
cannot subsist upon his stock, he depends entirely upon
the grace of God to work all his works in him, and to en-
able him to work out his salvation with fear and trembling.

222

4. He is deeply sensible of the absolute necessity of the
righteousness of Christ for his justification.

He does not think himself rich in good works to bribe
his judge, and procure acquittance, but, like a poor crimi-
nal that, having nothing to purchase a pardon, nothing to
plead in his own defence, casts himself upon the mercy of
the court, he places his whole dependence upon the free
grace of God through Jesus Christ. He pleads his right-
eousness only, and trusts in it alone. The rich scorn to
be obliged ; but the poor, that cannot subsist of themselves,
will cheerfully receive it.

5. And lastly, the man that is poor in spirit is an im-
portunate beggar at the throne of grace.

He lives upon charity; he lives upon the bounties of
heaven; and, as these are not to be obtained without
begging, he is frequently lifting up his cries to the Father
of all his mercies for them. He attends upon the ordinances
of God, as Bartimeus by the way-side, to ask the charity
of passengers. Prayer is the natural language of spiritual
poverty: The poor, saith Solomon, useth entreaties, Prov.
xviii. 23; whereas they that are rich in their own conceit
can live without prayer, or content themselves with the
formal, careless performance of it.

This is the habitual character of that poor man to whom
the Majesty of heaven vouchsafes the looks of his love.
At times indeed he has but little sense of these things ;
but then he is uneasy, and he labours to re-obtain it, and
sometimes is actually blessed with it.

And is there no such poor man or woman in this as-
sembly? I hope there is. Where are ye, poor crea-
tures 1 stand forth, and receive the blessings of your Re-
deemer, Blessed are the poor in spirit, &c. He who has
his throne in the height of heaven, and to whom this vast
earth is but a footstool, looks upon you with eyes of love.

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 223

This spiritual poverty is greater riches than the treasures
of the universe. Be not ashamed, therefore, to own
yourselves poor men, if such you are. May God thus
impoverish us all ; may he strip us of all our imaginary
grandeur and riches, and reduce us to poor beggars at his
door!

But it is time to consider the other character of the
happy man upon whom the Lord of heaven will graciously
look; and that is,

II. Contrition of spirit. To this man will I look that
is of a contrite spirit.

The word contrite signifies one that is beaten or bruised
with hard blows, or a heavy burden. And it belongs to
the mourning penitent whose heart is broken and wounded
for sin. Sin is an intolerable burden that crushes and
bruises him, and he feels himself pained and sore under it.
His stony heart, which could not be impressed, but rather
repelled the blow, is taken away ; and now he has a heart
of flesh, easily bruised and wounded. His heart is not
always hard and senseless, light and trifling; but it has
tender sensations ; he is easily susceptible of sorrow for
sin, is humbled under a sense of his imperfections, and is
really pained and distressed because he can serve his God
no better, but daily sins against him. This character may
also agree to the poor anxious soul, that is broken with
cruel fears of its state. The stout-hearted can venture
their eternal all upon uncertainty ; and indulge pleasing
hopes without anxiously examining their foundation ; but
he that is of a contrite spirit is tenderly sensible of the
importance of the matter, and cannot be easy without
some good evidence of safety. Such shocking supposi-
tions as these frequently startle him, and pierce his very
heart ; " What if I should be deceived at last ? What if
after all I should be banished from that God in whom lies

224 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

all my happiness ?" &c. These are suppositions full of
insupportable terror, when they appear but barely possi-
ble ; and much more when there seems to be reason for
them. Such an habitual pious jealousy as this, is a good
symptom ; and to your pleasing surprise, ye doubtful
Christians, I may tell you that that Majesty, who you are
afraid disregards you, looks down upon you with pity.
Therefore lift up your eyes to him in wonder and joyful
confidence. You are not such neglected things as you
think. The Majesty of heaven thinks it not beneath him
to look down through all the glorious orders of angels, and
through interposing worlds, down, down even upon you in
the depth of your self-abhorrence. Let us,

III. Consider the remaining character of the happy
man to whom the Lord will look ; Him that trembleth at
my word.

This character implies a tender sense of the great things
of the word, and a heart easily impressed with them as
the most important realities. This was remarkably ex-
emplified in tender-hearted Josiah. 2 Chron. xxxiv. 19,
20, 21, 27. To one that trembles at the divine word, the
threatenings of it do not appear vain terrors, nor great
swelling words of vanity, but the most tremendous reali-
ties. Such an one cannot bear up under them, but would
tremble, and fall, and die away, if not relieved by some
happy promise of deliverance. He that trembles at the
word of God is not a stupid hearer or reader of it. It
reaches and pierces his heart as a sharp two-edged sword ;
it carries power along with it, and he feels that it is the
word of God, and not of men, even when it is spoken by
feeble mortals. Thus he not only trembles at the terror,
but at the authority of the word ; — which leads me to ob-
serve farther, that he trembles with filial veneration of the
majesty of God speaking in his word. He considers it

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 225

as his voice who spake all things into being, and whose
glory is such that a deep solemnity must seize those that
are admitted to hear him speak.

How opposite is this to the temper of multitudes who
regard the word of God no more than (with horror I ex-
press it) the word of a child or a fool. ' They will have
their own way, let him say what he will. They persist in
sin, in defiance of his, threatenings. They sit as careless
and stupid under his word, as though it were some old,
dull, trifling story. It seldom makes any impressions upon
their stony hearts. These are the brave, undaunted men
of the world, who harden themselves against the fear of
futurity. But, unhappy creatures! the God of heaven
disdains to give them a gracious look, while he fixes his
eyes upon the man that " is contrite, and that trembles at
his word."

And where is that happy man ? Where in this assem-
bly, where is the contrite spirit 1 Where the man that
trembleth at the word ? You are all ready to catch at
the character, but be not presumptuous on the one hand,
nor excessively timorous on the other. Inquire whether
this be your prevailing character. If so, then claim it,
and rejoice in it, though you have it not in perfection.
But if you have it not prevailingly, do not seize it as your
own. Though you have been at times distressed with a
sense of sin and danger, and the word strikes a terror to
your hearts, yet, unless you are habitually of a tender and
a contrite spirit, you are not to claim the character.

But let such of you as are poor and contrite in spirit,
and that tremble at the word of the Lord, enter deeply
into the meaning of this expression, that the Lord looks
to you. He does not look on you as a careless specta-
tor, not concerning himself with you, or caring what
will become of you, but he looks upon you as a father,

VOL. I.— 29

POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS
f

a friend, a benefactor : his looks are efficacious for your
good.

He looks upon you with acceptance. He is pleased
with the sight. He loves to see you labouring towards
him. He looks upon you as the objects of his everlasting
love, and purchased by the blood of his Son, and he is
well pleased with you for his righteousness' sake. Hence
his looking upon him that is poor, &c., is opposed to his
hating the wicked and their sacrifices, ver. 3. And is he
whom you have so grievously offended, he whose wrath
you fear above all other things, is he indeed reconciled to
you, and does he delight in you? what cause of joy, and
praise, and wonder is here !

Again, he looks to you so as to take particular notice
of yo«- He sees all the workings of your hearts towards
him. He sees and pities you in your honest, though fee-
ble conflicts with indwelling sin. He observes all your
faithful though weak endeavours to serve him. His eyes
pierce your very hearts, and the least motion there cannot
escape his notice. This indeed might make you tremble,
if he looked upon you with the eyes of a judge, for oh,
how many abominations must he see in you ! But be of
good cheer, he looks upon you with the eyes of a friend,
and with that love which covers a multitude of sins. He
looks upon you with the eyes of compassion in all your
calamities. He looks upon you to see that you be not
overborne and crushed. David, who passed through as
many hardships and afflictions as any of you, could say
from happy experience, The eyes of the LORD are upon
the righteous, and his ears are open to their cry. Psal.
xxxiv. 15.

Finally, he looks to you so as to look after you, as we
do after the sick and weak. He looks to you so as tor
provide for you : and he will give you grace and glory,

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 227

and no good thing will be withheld from you. Psal. Ixxxiv.
11.

And are you not safe and happy under the inspection
of a father and a friend? Let a little humble courage
then animate you amid your many dejections, and confide
in that care of which you feel yourself to be so unworthy.

Here it may not be amiss to observe, what must give
you no small pleasure, that those very persons who, ac-
cording to the estimate of men, are the most likely to be
overlooked, are those whom God graciously regards.
The persons themselves are apt to cry, " Happy I, could
I believe that the God of heaven thus graciously regards
me ; but, alas ! I feel myself a poor unworthy creature ; I
am a trembling, broken-hearted thing, beneath the notice
of so great a Majesty." And art thou so indeed? then I
may convert thy objection into an encouragement. Thou
art the very person upon whom God looks. His eyes
are running to and fro through the earth in quest of such
as thou art ; and he will find thee out among the innumer-
able multitude of mankind. Wert thou surrounded with
crowds of kings and nobles, his eyes would pass by them
all to fix upon thee. What a glorious artifice, if I may
so speak, is this, to catch at and convert the person's dis-
couragment as a ground of courage ! to make that the
character of the favourites of heaven, which they them-
selves look upon as marks of his neglect of them ! " Alas !"
says the poor man, " if I was the object of divine notice,
he would not suffer me to continue thus poor and broken-
hearted." But you may reason directly the reverse; he
makes you thus poor in spirit, sensible of your sinfulness
and imperfections, because that he graciously regards you.
He will not suffer you to be puffed up with your imaginary
goodness, like the rest of the world, because he loves you
more than he loves them.

228 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS

However unaccountable this procedure seems, there is
very good reason for it. The poor are the only persons
that would relish the enjoyment of God, and prize his love ;
they alone are capable of the happiness of heaven, which
consists in the perfection of holiness.

To conclude, let us view the perfection and conde-
scension of God as illustrated by this subject. Consider,
ye poor in spirit, who he is that stoops to look upon
such little things as you. It is he whose throne is
in the highest heaven, surrounded with myriads of an-
gels and archangels; it is he whose footstool is the
earth, who supports every creature upon it; it is he
who is exalted above the blessings and praise of all the
celestial armies, and who cannot without condescension
behold the things that are done in heaven : it is he that
looks down upon such poor worms as you. And what a
stoop is this !

It is he that looks upon you in particular, who looks
after all the worlds he has made. He manages all the
affairs of the universe; he takes care of every individual
in his vast family; he provides for all his creatures, and
yet he is at leisure to regard you. He takes as particular
notice of you as if you were his only creatures. What
perfection is this ! what an infinite grasp of thought ! what
unbounded power ! and what condescension too ! Do but
consider what a small figure you make in the universe of
beings. You are not so much in comparison with the
infinite multitude of creatures in the compass of nature, as
a grain of sand to all the sands upon the sea shore, or as
a mote to the vast globe of earth. And yet he, that has
the care of the whole universe, takes particular notice of
you — you who are but trifles compared with your fellow-
creatures ; and who, if you were annihilated, would hardly
leave a blank in the creation. Consider this, arid wonder

THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOUR. 229

at the condescension of God ; consider this, and acknow-
ledge your own meanness ; you are but nothing, not only
compared with God, but you are as nothing in the system
of creation.

I shall add but this one natural reflection : If it be so
great a happiness to have the great God for our patron,
then what is it to be out of his favour ? to be disregarded
by him? methinks an universal tremor may seize this
assembly at the very supposition. And is there a creature
in the universe in this wretched condition ? methinks all
the creation besides must pity him. Where is the wretched
being to be found 1 must we descend to hell to find him ;
No, alas! there are many such on this earth ! nay, I must
come nearer you still, there are many such probably in
this assembly : all among you are such who are not poor
and contrite in spirit, and do not tremble at the word of
the Lord. And art thou not one of the miserable number,
oh man ? What ! disregarded by the God that made thee !
not favoured with one look of love by the author of all
happiness ! He looks on thee indeed, but it is with eyes
of indignation, marking thee out for vengeance ; and canst
thou be easy in such a case ? wilt thou not labour to impo-
verish thyself, and have thy heart broken, that thou mayest
become the object of his gracious regard 1

230 THE NATURE AND DANGER

SERMON VII.

THE NATURE AND DANGER OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST
AND SALVATION.

MATT. xxn. 5. — But they made light of it.

THERE is not one of us in this assembly that has heard
anything, but what has heard of Christ and salvation : there
is not one of us but has had the rich blessings of the gos-
pel freely and repeatedly offered to us : there is not one
of us but stands in the most absolute need of these bless-
ings, and must perish for ever without them; I wish I
could add, there is not one of us but has cheerfully accepted
them according to the offer of the gospel. But, alas !
such an assembly is not to be expected on earth ! Multi-
tudes will make light of Christ and the invitations of the
gospel, as the Jews did.

This parable represents the great God under the majes-
tic idea of a king.

He is represented as making a marriage feast for his
Son; that is, God in the gospel offers his Son Jesus
Christ as a Saviour to the guilty sons of men, and, upon
their acceptance of him, the most intimate and endearing
union, and the tenderest mutual affection takes place
between Christ and them ; which may properly be repre-
sented by the marriage relation. And God has provided
for them a rich variety of blessings, pardon, holiness, and
everlasting felicity, which may be signified by a royal nup-
tial feast, verse 2.

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 231

These blessings were first offered to the Jews, who
were bidden to the wedding by Moses and the prophets,
whose great business it was to prepare them to receive the
Messiah, verse 3.

The servants that were sent to call them, that were thus
bidden, were the apostles and seventy disciples, whom
Christ sent out to preach that the gospel kingdom was
just at hand, verse 3.

When the Jews rejected this call, he sent forth other
servants, namely, the apostles, after his ascension, who
were to be more urgent in their invitations, and to tell
them that, in consequence of Christ's death, all things were
now ready, verse 4.

It is seldom that invitations to a royal feast are rejected ;
but alas ! the Jews rejected the invitation of the gospel,
and would not accept of its important blessings. They
made light of Christ and his blessings : they were careless
to them, and turned their attention to other things.

These things were not peculiar to the Jews, but belong
to us sinners of the Gentiles in these ends of the earth.
Christ is still proposed to us ; to the same blessings we are
invited ; and I have the honour, my dear brethren, of ap-
pearing among you as a servant of the heavenly King, sent
out to urge you to embrace the offer.

I doubt not but sundry of you have complied; and you
are enriched and made for ever.

But alas ! must I not entertain a godly jealousy over
some of you 1 Have you not made light of Christ and
salvation, to which you have been invited for so many
years successively ?

Your case is really lamentable, as I hope you will see
before I have done ; and I most sincerely compassionate
you from my heart. I now rise up in this solemn place
with the design to address you with the most awful serious-

232 THE NATURE AND DANGER

ness, and the most compassionate concern : and did you
know how much your happiness may depend upon it, and
how anxious I am lest I should fail in the attempt, I am
sure you could not but pray for me, and pity me. If ever
you regarded a man in the most serious temper and
address, I beg you would now regard what I am going to
say to you.

You cannot receive any benefit from this, or indeed any
other subject, till you apply it to yourselves. And there-
fore, in order to reform you of the sin of making light of
Christ and the gospel, I must first inquire who are guilty
of it. For this purpose let us consider,

What is it to make light of Christ and the invitations
of the gospel?

I can think of no plainer way to discover this, than to
inquire how we treat those things that we highly esteem ;
and also by way of contrast, how we treat those things
which we make light of; and hence we may discover
whether Christ and the gospel may be ranked among the
things we esteem, or those we disregard.

I. Men are apt to remember and affectionately think of
the things that they highly esteem ; but as for those which
they disregard, they can easily forget them, and live from
day to day without a single thought about them.

Now do you often affectionately remember the Lord
Jesus Christ, and do your thoughts affectionately go after
him? do they pay him early visits in the morning? do they
make frequent excursions to him through the day ? and do
you lie down with him in your hearts at night ? Is not the
contrary evident as to many of you? Can you not live
from day to day thoughtless of Jesus, and your everlasting
salvation ? Recollect now, how many affectionate thoughts
have you had of these things through the week past, or in
this sacred morning. And can you indeed highly esteem

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 233

those things which you hardly ever think of? Follow
your own hearts, sirs, observe which way they most na-
turally and freely run, and then judge whether you make
light of the gospel or not. Alas ! we cannot persuade
men to one hour's serious consideration what they should
do for an interest in Christ; we cannot persuade them so
much as to afford him only their thoughts, which are such
cheap things ; and yet they will not be convinced that they
make light of Christ. And here lies the infatuation of
sin ; it blinds and befools men, so that they do not know
what they think of, what they love, or what they intend,
much less do they know the habitual bent of their souls.
They often imagine themselves free from those sins to
which they are most enslaved, and particularly they think
themselves innocent of the crime of making light of the
gospel, when this is the very crime that is likely to destroy
them for ever.

II. The things that men value, if of such a nature as to
admit of publication, will be the frequent subjects of their
discourse : the thoughts will command the tongue, and fur-
nish materials for conversation. But those things that
they forget and disregard they will not talk of.

Do not they therefore make light of Christ and salva-
tion, who have no delight in conversing about them, and
hardly ever mention the name of Christ but in a trifling
or profane manner ? They do not like the company where
divine things are discoursed of, but think it precise and
troublesome. They had much rather be entertained with
humorous tales and idle stories, or talk about the affairs
of the world. They are of the world, says St. John, there-
fore speak they of the world, and the world heareth them.
1 John iv. 5. They are in their element in such conver-
sation. Or others may talk about religion; but it is only

about the circumstances of it, as, " How such a man
VOL. I.— so

234 THE NATURE AND DANGER

preached ; it was a very good or a bad sermon," &c., but
they care not to enter into the spirit and substance of
divine things ! and if they speak of Christ and experimen-
tal religion, it is in a heartless and insipid manner. And
do not such make light of the gospel? and is not this the
character of many of you?

III. Men make light of those things, if they are of a
practical nature, which they only talk about, but do not
reduce into practice.

Christianity was intended not to furnish matter for empty
talkers, but to govern the heart and practice. But are
there not some that only employ their tongues about it,
especially when their spirits are raised with liquor, and
then a torrent of noisy religion breaks from them. Watch
their lives, and you will see little appearance of Christi-
anity there. And do not these evidently make light of
Christ, who make him the theme of their drunken conver-
sation, or who seem to think that God sent his Son from
heaven just to set the world a talking about him? There
is nothing in nature that seems to me more abominable
than this.

IV. We take the utmost pains and labour to secure the
things we value, and cannot be easy while our property in
them is uncertain ; but those things that we think lightly
of we care but little whether they be ours or not.

Therefore, have not such of you made light of Christ
and salvation, who have lived twenty or thirty years un-
certain whether you have interest in him, and yet have
been easy and contented, and take no method to be re-
solved? Are all that hear me this day determined in this
important question, " What shall become of me when I
die?" Are you all certain upon good grounds, and after
a thorough trial, that you shall be saved? Oh that you
were ! but, alas ! you are not. And do you think you

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 235

would bear this uncertainty about it, if you did not make
light of salvation? No; you would carefully examine
yourselves ; you would diligently pursue the Scriptures to
find out the marks of those that shall be saved ; you would
anxiously consult those that could direct you, and particu-
larly pious ministers, who would think it the greatest favour
you could do them to devolve such an office upon them.
But now ministers may sit in their studies for a whole year,
and not ten persons perhaps in five hundred agreeably in-
trude upon them on this important business.

Oh, sirs, if the gospel should pierce your hearts indeed,
you would but cry out with the convicted Jews, Men and
brethren, what shall we do ? Acts ii. 37. Paul, when awa-
kened, cries out, in a trembling consternation, Lord ! what
wilt thou have me to do ? But when shall we hear such
questions now-a-days?

V. The things that men highly esteem, deeply and ten-
derly affect them, and excite some motions in their hearts :
but what they make light of, makes no impression upon
them.

And if you did not make light of the gospel, what work-
ings would there be in your hearts about it? what solemn,
tender, and vigorous passion would it raise in you to hear
such things about the world to come ! what fear and as-
tonishment would seize you at the consideration of your
misery ; what transports of joy and gratitude would you
feel at the glad tidings of salvation by the blood of Christ !
what strong efficacious purposes would be raised in you at
the discovery of your duty ! Oh what hearers should we
have, were it not for this one sin, the making light of the
gospel ! whereas now we are in danger of wearying them,
or preaching them asleep with our most solemn discourses
about this momentous affair? We talk to them of Christ
and salvation till they grow quite tired of this dull old tale,

236 THE NATURE AND DANGER

and this foolishness of preaching. Alas ! little would one
think from the air of carelessness, levity, and inattention
that appears among them, that they were hearing such
weighty truths, or have any concern in them.

VI. Our estimate of things may be discovered by the
diligence and earnestness of our endeavours about them.
Those things which we highly value, we think no pains
too great to obtain ; but what we think lightly of we use
no endeavours about, or we use them in a languid, care-
less manner.

And do not they make light of Christ and salvation,
who do not exert themselves in earnest to obtain them, and
think a great deal of every little thing they do in religion ?
they are still ready to cry out, " What need of so much
pains? we hope to be saved without so much trouble."
And, though these may not be so honest as to speak it
out, it is plain from their temper and practice, they grudge
all the service they do for Christ as done to a master they
do not love. They love and esteem the world, and there-
fore for the world they will labour and toil all day, and
seem never to think they can do too much ; but for the
God that made them, for the Lord that bought them, and
for their everlasting salvation, they seem afraid of taking
too much pains. Let us preach to them as long as we
will, we cannot bring them in earnest to desire and pursue
after holiness. Follow them to their houses, and you will
hardly ever find them reading a chapter in their Bibles, or
calling upon God with their families, so much as once a
day. Follow them into their retirements, and you will
hear no penitent confessions of sin, no earnest cries for
mercy. They will not allow to God that one day in seven
which he has appropriated to his own immediate service,
but they will steal and prostitute some even of those sacred
hours for idleness, for worldly conversation, or business.

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 237

And many of them are so malignant in wickedness, that
they will reproach and ridicule others that are not so made
as themselves in these respects. And is not Christ worth
seeking ? Is not eternal salvation worth so much trouble ?
Does not that man make light of these things that thinks
his ease or carnal pleasure of greater importance? Let
common sense judge.

VII. That which we highly value we think we cannot
buy too dear; and we are ready to part with every thing
that comes in competition with it. The merchant that
found one pearl of great price, sold all that he had to pur-
chase it, Matt. xiii. 46, but those things that we make light
of, we will not part with things of value for them.

Now, when Christ and the blessings of the gospel come
in competition with the world and sinful pleasures, you
may know which you most highly esteem, by considering
which you are most ready to part with. You are called
to part with every thing that is inconsistent with an interest
in Christ, and yet many of you will not do it. You are
called but to give God his own, to resign all to his will, to
let go all those profits and pleasures which you must either
part with, or part with Christ, and yet your hearts cling to
these things; you grasp them eagerly, and nothing can
tear them from you. You must have your pleasures, you
must keep your credit in the world, you must look to your
estates, whatever becomes of Christ and salvation ; as if
you could live and die better without Christ than without
these things ; or as if Christ could not make you happy
without them. And does not this bring the matter to an
issue, and plainly show that you make light of Christ in
comparison with these things ? Christ himself has assured
you, over and over, that unless you are willing to part
with all for his sake, you cannot be his disciples ; and yet,
while you have the quite contrary disposition, you will

238 THE NATURE AND DANGER

pretend to be his disciples ; as if you knew better what it
is that constituted his disciples than he.

VIII. Those things which we highly value, we shall be
for helping our friends to obtain.

Do not those, then, make light of Christ, who do not
take half so much pains to help their children to an in-
terest in him, as to set them up in credit in the world, and
leave them large fortunes? They supply the outward
wants of their families, but they take little or no care about
their everlasting salvation. Alas! Sirs, the neglected,
ignorant, and vicious children and servants of such of you
can witness against you, that you make very light of
Christ and salvation, and their immortal souls.

IX. That which men highly esteem they will so dili-
gently pursue, that you may see their regard for it in
their endeavours after it, if it be a matter within their
reach.

You may therefore see that many make light of the
gospel by the little knowledge they have of it, after all the
means of instruction with which they have been favoured.
Alas ! where is their improvement in holiness ! how little
do they know of their own hearts, of God and Christ, and
the world to come, and what they must do to be saved !
Ask them about these things, and you will find them
stupidly ignorant; and yet they have so much conceited
knowledge that they will not acknowledge it ; or if they
do, they have no better excuse than to say they are no
scholars, or they have a poor memory; as if it required
extensive learning, or a great genius to know the things
that are necessary to salvation. Oh! if they had not
made light of these things; if they had bestowed but half
the pains upon them which they have taken to understand
matters of trade and worldly business, they would not be
so grossly ignorant as they are! When men can learn

OP MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 239

the hardest trade in a few years, when men of bright parts,
and perhaps considerable learning, after living so many
years, are still mere novices in matters of religion, and do
not so much as know the terms of life according to the
gospel, is it not plain that they care but little about these
things, and that they make light of the Son of God, and
all his inestimable, immortal blessings?

Thus I have offered you sufficient matter of conviction
in this affair. And what is the result? Does not con-
science smite some of you by this time, and say, " I ara
the man that have made light of Christ and his gospel ?"
If not, upon what evidence are you acquitted ? Some of
you, I doubt not, can say, in the integrity of your hearts,
" Alas ! I am too careless about this important affair, but
God knows I am often deeply concerned about it; God
knows that if ever I was in earnest about any thing in all
my life, it has been about my everlasting state; and there
is nothing in all the world that habitually lies so near my
heart. But are there not some of you whom conscience
does not accuse of this crime of too much carelessness
about the gospel, not because you are innocent, but be-
cause you make so very light of it, that you will make no
thorough search into it? and does not this alone prove
you guilty? I beseech such to consider the folly of your
conduct. Do you then think to excuse your crime, by
being careless whether you are guilty of it or not? Can
you avoid the precipice by shutting your eyes ? If you
discover your sin now, it may be of unspeakable service,
but if you now shut your eyes you must see it hereafter,
when it will be too late ; when your conviction will be
your punishment. I beseech you also to consider the
dreadful evil of your conduct in making light of a Saviour.
And here I shall offer such arguments to expose its
aggravations as I am sure cannot fail to convince and

240 THE NATURE AND DANGER

astonish you, if you act like men of reason and under-
standing.

I. Consider you make light of him who did not make
light of you, when you deserved his final neglect of you.
You were worthy of nothing but contempt and abhorrence
from him. As a man you are but a worm to God, and
as a sinner you are viler than a toad or a serpent. Yet
Christ was so far from making light of you that he left his
native heaven, became a man of sorrows, and died in the
most exquisite agonies, that a way might be opened for
the salvation of your miserable soul: and can you make
light of him after all his regard to you? What miracles
of love and mercy has he shown towards you ! and can
you neglect him after all? Angels, who are less con-
cerned in these things than we, cannot but pry into them
with delightful wonder, 1 Peter i. 12, and shall sinners
who have the most intimate personal concern in them,
make light of them ? This is a crime more than devilish ;
for the devils never had a Saviour offered to them, and
consequently never could despise him. And can you live
in a carelessness of Christ all your days, and yet feel no
remorse ?

II. Consider you make light of matters of the greatest
excellency and importance in all the world. Oh, sirs,
you know not what it is that you slight; had you known
these things you would not have ventured to make light
of them for ten thousand worlds. As Christ said to the
woman of Samaria, If thou knewest the gift of God, and
who it is, that saith to thee, Give me to drink, thou
wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee
living water. John iv. 13. Had the Jews known, they
would not have crucified the Lord of Glory : 1 Cor. ii. 8.
So, had you known what Jesus is, you would not have
made light of him; he would have been to you the most

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 241

important being in the universe: Oh ! had you been but
one day in heaven, and seen and felt the happiness there !
or had you been but one hour under the agonies of hell,
you could never more have trifled with salvation.

Here I find my thoughts run so naturally into the same
channel with those of the excellent Mr. Baxter, about a
hundred years ago, that you will allow me to give a long
quotation from him, that you may see in what light this
great and good man viewed the neglected things which
the gospel brings to your ears. His words are these; and
I am sure to me they have been very weighty: —

"Oh, sirs, they are no trifles or jesting matters that the
gospel speaks of. I must needs profess to you, that when
I have the most serious thoughts of these things, I am
ready to wonder that such amazing matters do not over-
whelm the souls of men : that the greatness of the subject
doth not so overmatch our understandings and affections,
as even to drive men beside themselves, but that God hath
always somewhat allayed it by distance; much more do I
wonder that men should be so blockish as to make light
of such things. Oh, Lord, that men did but know what
everlasting glory and everlasting torments are! Would
they then hear us as they do? would they read and think
of these things as they do? I profess I have been ready
to wonder when I have heard such weighty things de-
livered, how people can forbear crying out in the congre-
gation, and much more do I wonder how they can rest,
till they have gone to their ministers and learned what
they shall do to be saved, that this great business should
be put out of doubt. Oh, that heaven and hell should
work no more upon men! Oh, that eternity should
work no more ! Oh, how can you forbear when you are
alone to think with yourselves what it is to be everlast-
ingly in joy or torment. I wonder that such thoughts do

VOL. I.— 31

242 THE NATURE AND DANGER

not break your sleep, and that they do not crowd into
your minds when you are about your labour! I wonder
how you can almost do any thing else! How can you
have any quietness in your minds? how can you eat or
drink, or rest, till you have got some ground of everlasting
consolations? Is that a man, or a corpse, that is not af-
fected with matters of this moment? that can be readier
to sleep than to tremble, when he hears how he must
stand at the bar of God ? Is that a man, or a clod of clay,
that can rise up and lie down without being deeply affected
with his everlasting state? that can follow his worldly
business, and make nothing of the great business of salva-
tion or damnation, and that when he knows it is so hard
at hand? Truly, sirs, when I think of the weight of the
matter, I wonder at the best saints upon earth, that they
are no better, and do no more in so weighty a case. I
wonder at those whom the world accounts more holy than
needs, and scorns for making too much ado, that they can
put off Christ and their souls with so little; that they do
not pour out their souls in every prayer; that they are not
more taken up with God; that their thoughts are not more
serious in preparation for their last account. I wonder
that they are not a thousand times more strict in their
lives, and more laborious and unwearied for the crown
than they are. And for myself, (says that zealous,
flaming, and indefatigable preacher,) as I am ashamed of
my dull and careless heart, and of my slow and unprofit-
able course of life, so the Lord knows I am ashamed of
every sermon that I preach : when I think what I am, and
who sent me, and how much the salvation and damnation
of men is concerned in it, I am ready to tremble, lest God
should judge me as a slighter of his truth and the souls of
men, and lest, in my best sermon, I should be guilty of
their blood. Methinks we should not speak a word to

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 243

men in matters of such consequence without tears, or the
greatest earnestness that possibly we can. Were we not
too much guilty of the sin which we reprove, it would
be so. Whether we are alone or in company, methinks
our end, and such an end, should still be in our mind,
and as before our eyes; and we should sooner forget any
thing, or set light by any thing, or by all things, than by
this."

And now, my brethren, if such a man as this viewed
these things in this light, oh what shall we, we languishing,
careless creatures, what shall we think of ourselves ? Into
what a dead sleep are we fallen ! Oh let the most active
and zealous among us awake, and be a thousand times
more earnest; and ye frozen-hearted, careless sinners,
for God's sake awake, and exert yourselves to good pur-
pose in the pursuit of salvation, or you are lost to all
eternity.

III. Consider whose salvation it is you make light of.
It is your own. And do you not care what becomes of
your own selves ? Is it nothing to you whether you are
saved or damned for ever 1 Is the natural principle of
self-love extinct in you ? Have you no concern for your
own preservation ? Are you commenced your own ene-
mies 1 If you slight Christ and love sin, you virtually
love death, Prov. viii. 36. You may as well say, " I will
live and yet neither eat nor drink," as say, " I will go to
heaven, and yet make light of Christ." And you may as
well say this in words as by your practice.

IV. Consider, your sin is aggravated by professing to
believe that gospel which you make light of. For a pro-
fessed infidel that does not believe the Scripture revelation
concerning Christ and a future state of rewards and pun-
ishments, for such a one to be careless about these things
would not be so strange ; but for you that make these

244 THE NATURE AND DANGER

things your creed, and a part of your religion, for you
that call yourselves Christians, and have been baptized
into this faith; for you, I say, to make light of them, how
astonishing ! how utterly inexcusable ! What ! believe
that you shall live for ever in the most perfect happiness
or exquisite misery, and yet take no more pains to obtain
the one, and escape the other 1 What ! believe that the
great and dreadful God will shortly be your judge, and
yet make no more preparation for it? Either say plainly,
" I am no Christian, I do not believe these things ;" or
else let your hearts be affected with your belief, and let it
influence and govern your lives.

V. Consider what those things are which engross your
affections, and which tempt you to neglect Christ and
your salvation. Have you found out a better friend, or a
more substantial and lasting happiness than his salvation ?
Oh ! what trifles and vanities, what dreams and shadows
are men pursuing, while they neglect the important reali-
ties of the eternal world ! If crowns and kingdoms, if all
the riches, glories, and pleasures of the world were en-
sured to you as a reward for making light of Christ, you
would even then make the most foolish bargain possible ;
for what are these in the scale to eternal joy or eternal
tempest ? and what is a man profited, if he shall gain even
the whole world, and lose his own soul? Matt. xvi. 26.
But you cannot hope for the ten thousandth part; and
will you cast away your souls for this ? You that think
it such a great thing to live in riches, pleasures, and hon-
ours, consider, is it such a mighty happiness to die rich ?
to die after a life of pleasure and honour ? Will it be
such a great happiness to give an account for the life of a
rich sensualist, rather than of a poor mortified creature ?
Will Dives then be so much happier than Lazarus ? Alas !
what does the richest, the highest, the most voluptuous

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 245

sinner, what does he do, but lay up treasures of wrath
against the day of wrath? Oh how will the unhappy
creatures torture themselves for ever with the most cutting
reflections for selling their Saviour and their souls for such
trifles ! Let your sins and earthly enjoyments save you
then, if they can ; let them then do that for you which
Christ would have done for you if you had chosen him.
Then go and cry to the gods you have chosen ; let them
deliver you in the day of your tribulation.

VI. Your making light of Christ and salvation is a
certain evidence that you have no interest in them. —
Christ will not throw himself and his blessings away upon
those who do not value them. " Those that honour him
he will honour; but they that despise him shall be lightly
esteemed," 1 Sam. ii. 30. There is a day coming, when
you will feel you cannot do without him ; when you will
feel yourselves perishing for want of a Saviour ; and then
you may go and look for a Saviour where you will ; then
may you shift for yourselves as you can ; he will have no-
thing to do with you ; the Saviour of sinners will cast you
off for ever. I tell you, sirs, whatever estimate you form
of all these things, God thinks very highly of the blood
of his Son, and the blessings of his purchase ; and if ever
you obtain them, he will have you think highly of them
too. If you continue to make light of them, all the
world cannot save you. And can you find fault with
God for denying you that which was so little in your ac-
count ?

VII. And lastly, the time is hastening when you will
not think so slightly of Christ and salvation. Oh, sirs,
when God shall commission death to tear your guilty
souls out of your bodies, when devils shall drag you away
to the place of torment, when you find yourselves con-
demned to everlasting fire by that Saviour whom you now

246 THE NATURE AND DANGER

neglect, what would you then give for a Saviour ? when
divine justice brings in its heavy charges against you, and
you have nothing to answer, how will you then cry, " Oh
if I had chosen Jesus for my Saviour, he would have an-
swered all !" When you see that the world has deserted
you, that your companions in sin have deceived them-
selves and you, and all your merry days are over for ever,
would you not then give ten thousand worlds for Christ ?
And will you not now think him worthy of your esteem
and earnest pursuit ? Why will ye judge of things now
quite the reverse of what you will do then when you will
be more capable of judging rightly ?

And now, dear immortal souls ! I have discovered the
nature and danger of this common but unsuspected and
unlamented sin, making light of Christ. I have delivered
my message, and now I must leave it with you, imploring
the blessing of God upon it. I cannot follow you home
to your houses to see what effect it has upon you, or to
make application of it to each of you in particular ; but
oh, may your consciences undertake this office ! When-
ever you spend another prayerless, thoughtless day, when-
ever you give yourselves up to sinful pleasures, or an
over-eager pursuit of the world, may your conscience be-
come your preacher, and sting you with this expostulation :
" Alas ! is this the effect of all I have heard ? Do I still
make light of Christ and the concerns of religion ? Oh
what will be the end of such conduct !"

I cannot but fear, after all, that some of you, as usual,
will continue careless and impenitent. Well, when you
are suffering the punishment of this sin in hell, remember
that you were warned, and acquit me from being accessary
to your ruin. And when we all appear before the su-
preme Judge, and I am called to give an account of my
ministry : when I am asked, " Did you warn these crea-

OF MAKING LIGHT OF CHRIST. 247

tures of their danger ? Did you lay before them their
guilt in making light of these things ?" you will allow me
to answer, " Yes, Lord, I warned them in the best manner
I could, but they would not believe me ; they would not
regard what I said, though enforced by the authority of
thy awful name, and confirmed by thine own word." Oh
sirs, must I give in this accusation against any of you ?
No, rather have mercy on yourselves, and have mercy
upon me, that I may give an account of you with joy, and
not with grief.

248 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

SERMON VIII.

THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST TO WEAK BELIEVERS.

MATT. xn. 20. — A bruised reed shall he not break, and
smoking flax shall he not quench.

THE Lord Jesus possesses all those virtues in the highest
perfection, which render him infinitely amiable, and qualify
him for the administration of a just and gracious govern-
ment over the world. The virtues of mortals, when car-
ried to a high degree, very often run into those vices which
have a kind of affinity to them. " Right, too rigid, hardens
into wrong." Strict justice steels itself into excessive
severity ; and the man is lost in the judge. Goodness and
mercy sometimes degenerate into softness and an irrational
compassion inconsistent with government. But in Jesus
Christ these seemingly opposite virtues centre and har-
monize in the highest perfection, without running into
extremes. Hence he is at once characterized as a Lamb,
and as the Lion of the tribe of Judah : a lamb for gentle-
ness towards humble penitents, and a lion to tear his ene-
mies in pieces. Christ is said to judge and make war,
Rev. xix. 11; and yet he is called The Prince of Peace;
Isa. ix. 6. He will at length show himself terrible to the
workers of iniquity; and the terrors of the Lord are a very
proper topic whence to persuade men; but now he is
patient towards all men, and he is all love and tenderness
towards the meanest penitent. The meekness and gentle-
ness of Christ is to be the pleasing entertainment of this

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 249

day ; and I enter upon it with a particular view to those
mourning, desponding souls among us, whose weakness
renders them in great need of strong consolation. To
such, in particular, I address the words of my text, A
bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he
not quench.

This is a part of the Redeemer's character, as delineated
near three thousand years ago, by the evangelical prophet
Isaiah ; Isa. xlii. 1-4 ; and it is expressly applied to him
by St. Mathew : Behold, says the Father, my servant whom
I have chosen for the important undertaking of saving the
guilty sons of men ; " my Beloved, in whom my soul is
well pleased ;" my very soul is well pleased with his faith-
ful discharge of the important office he has undertaken. I
will put my spirit upon him; that is, I will completely
furnish him by the gifts of my spirit for his high character ;
and he shall show judgment to the Gentiles ; to the poor
benighted Gentiles he shall show the light of salvation, by
revealing the gospel to them ; which, in the style of the
Old Testament, may be called his judgments. Or, he
will show and execute the judgment of this world by cast-
ing out its infernal prince, who had so long exercised an
extensive cruel tyranny over it. He shall not strive nor
cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets ;
that is, though he enters the world as a mighty prince and
conqueror, to establish a kingdom of righteousness, and
overthrow the kingdom of darkness, yet he will not intro-
duce it with the noisy terrors and thunders of war, but
shall show himself mild and gentle as the prince of peace.
Or the connection may lead us to understand these words
in a different sense, namely, He shall do nothing with
clamorous ostentation, nor proclaim his wonderful works,
when it shall answer no valuable end. Accordingly the
verse of our text stands thus connected : Great multitudes

VOL. I.— 32

250 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

followed him; and he healed them all, and charged them
that they should not make him known. That it might be
fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying, —
He shall not cry, neither shall any man hear his voice in
the streets ; that is, he shall not publish his miracles with
noisy triumphs in the streets and other public places.
And when it is said, He shall not strive, it may refer to his
inoffensive passive behaviour towards his enemies that
were plotting his death. For thus we may connect this
quotation from Isaiah with the preceding history in the
chapter of our text : Then the Pharisees went out, and held
a council against him, how they might destroy him. But
when Jesus hnew it, instead of praying to his Father for a
guard of angels, or employing his own miraculous power
to destroy them, he withdrew himself from thence ; that it
might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet Isaiah,
saying, — He shall not strive.

The general meaning of my text seems to be contained
in this observation : " That the Lord Jesus has the ten-
derest and most compassionate regard to the feeblest peni-
tents, however oppressed and desponding; and that he will
approve and cherish the least spark of true love towards
himself.

A bruised reed seems naturally to represent a soul at
once feeble in itself, and crushed with a burden; a soul
both weak and oppressed. The reed is a slender, frail
vegetable in itself, and therefore a very proper image to
represent a soul that is feeble and weak. A bruised reed
is still more frail, hangs its head, and is unable to stand
without some prop. And what can be a more lively em-
blem of a poor soul, not only weak in itself, but bowed
down and broken under a load of sin and sorrow, that
droops and sinks, and is unable to stand without divine
support? Strength may bear up under a burden, or

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 251

struggle with it, till it has thrown it off; but oppressed
weakness, frailty under a burden, what can be more pitia-
ble ? and yet this is the case of many a poor penitent.
He is weak in himself, and in the meantime crushed under
a heavy weight of guilt and distress.

And what would become of such a frail oppressed crea-
ture, if, instead of raising him up and supporting him,
Jesus should tread and crush him under the foot of his
indignation ? But though a reed, especially a bruised
reed, is an insignificant thing, of little or no use, yet " a
bruised reed he will not break," but he raises it up with a
gentle hand, and enables it to stand, though weak in itself,
and easily crushed in ruin.

Perhaps the imagery, when drawn at length, may be
this : " The Lord Jesus is an Almighty Conqueror,
marches in state through our world ; and here and there
a bruised reed lies in his way. But instead of disregard-
ing it, or trampling it under foot, he takes care not to
break it: he raises up the drooping straw, trifling as it is
and supports it with his gentle hand." Thus, poor broken-
hearted penitents, thus he takes care of you, and supports
you, worthless and trifling as you are. Though you seem
to lie in the way of his justice, and it might tread you with
its heavy foot, yet he not only does not crush you, but
takes you up, and inspires you with strength to bear your
burden and flourish again.

Or perhaps the imagery may be derived from the prac-
tice of the ancient shepherds, who were wont to amuse
themselves with the music of a pipe of reed or straw ; and
when it was bruised they broke it, or threw it away as
useless. But the bruised reed shall not be broken by this
divine Shepherd of souls. The music of broken sighs and
groans is indeed all that the broken reed can afford him :
the notes are but low, melancholy, and jarring : and yet he

252 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

will not break the instrument, but he will repair and tune
it, till it is fit to join in the concert of angels on high ; and
even now its humble strains are pleasing to his ears.
Surely every broken heart among us must revive, while
contemplating this tender and moving imagery.

The other emblem is equally significant and affecting.
The smoking flax shall he not quench. It seems to be an
allusion to the wick of a candle or lamp, the flame of
which is put out, but it still smokes, and retains a little fire
which may be again blown into a flame, or rekindled by
the application of more fire. Many such dying snuffs or
smoking wicks are to be found in the candlesticks of the
churches, and in the lamps of the sanctuary. The flame
of divine love is just expiring, it is sunk into the socket of
a corrupt heart, and produces no clear, steady blaze, but
only a smoke that is disagreeable, although it shows that a
spark of the sacred fire yet remains ; or it produces a faint
quivering flame that dies away, then catches and revives,
and seems unwilling to be quenched entirely. The devil
and the world raise many storms of temptation to blow it
out ; and a corrupt heart, like a fountain, pours out water
to quench it. But even this smoking flax, this dying snuff,
Jesus will not quench, but he blows it up into a flame, and
pours in the oil of his grace to recruit and nourish it. He
walks among the golden candlesticks, and trims the lamps
of his sanctuary. Where he finds empty vessels without
oil or a spark of heavenly fire, like those of the foolish
virgins, he breaks the vessels, or throws them out of his
house. But where he finds the least spark of true grace,
where he discovers but the glimpse of sincere love to him,
where he sees the principle of true piety, which, though
just expiring, yet renders the heart susceptive of divine
love, as a candle just put out is easily rekindled, there he
will strengthen the things which remain and are ready to

TO WEAk BELIEVERS. 253

die : he will blow up the dying snuff to a lively flame, and
cause it to shine brighter and brighter to the perfect day.
Where there is the least principle of true holiness he will
cherish it. He will furnish the expiring lamp with fresh
supplies of the oil of grace, and of heavenly fire ; and all
the storms that beat upon it shall not be able to put it out,
because sheltered by his hand.

I hope, my dear brethren, some of you begin already to
feel the pleasing energy of this text. Are you not ready
to say, " Blessed Jesus ! is this thy true character 1 Then
thou art just such a Saviour as I want, and I most willingly
give up myself to thee." You are sensible you are at best
but a bruised reed, a feeble, shattered, useless thing : an
untunable, broken pipe of straw, that can make no proper
music for the entertainment of your divine Shepherd.
Your heart is at best but smoking flax, where the love of
God often appears like a dying snuff; or an expiring flame
that quivers and catches, and hovers over the lamp, just
ready to go out. Such some of you probably feel your-
selves to be. Well, and what think ye of Christ? " He
will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking
flax ;" and therefore, may not even your guilty eyes look
to this gentle Saviour with encouraging hope? May you
not say to him, with the sweet singer of Israel, in his last
moment, He is all my salvation, and all my desire ? 2 Sam.
xxiii. 5.

In prosecuting this subject I intend to illustrate the cha-
racter of a weak believer, as represented in my text, and
then to illustrate the care and compassion of Jesus Christ
even for such a poor weakling.

I. I am to illustrate the character of a weak believer,
as represented in my text, by " a bruised reed, and smok-
ing flax."

The metaphor of a bruised reed, as I observed, seems

254 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

most naturally to convey the idea of a state of weakness
and oppression. And, therefore, in illustrating it I am
naturally led to describe the various weaknesses which a
believer sometimes painfully feels, and to point out the
heavy burdens which he sometimes groans under; I say
sometimes, for at other times even the weak believer finds
himself strong, strong in the Lord, and in the power of
his might, and strengthened with might by the Spirit in
the inner man. The joy of the Lord is his strength: and
he " can do all things through Christ strengthening him."
Even the oppressed believer at times feels himself de-
livered from his burden, and he can lift up his drooping
head, and walk upright. But, alas ! the burden returns,
and crushes him again. And under some burden or other
many honest-hearted believers groan out the most part of
their lives.

Let us now see what are those weaknesses which a be-
liever feels and laments. He finds himself weak in know-
ledge ; a simple child in the knowledge of God and divine
things. He is weak in love ; the sacred flame does not
rise with a perpetual fervour, and diffuse itself through all
his devotions, but at times it languishes and dies away into
a smoking snuff. He is weak in faith ; he cannot keep a
strong hold of the Almighty, cannot suspend his all upon
his promises with cheerful confidence, nor build a firm,
immovable fabric of hope upon the rock Jesus Christ.
He is weak in hope ; his hope is dashed with rising bil-
lows of fears and jealousies, and sometimes just overset.
He is weak in joy ; he cannot extract the sweets of Chris-
tianity, nor taste the comforts of his religion. He is weak
in zeal for God and the interests of his kingdom ; he would
wish himself always a flaming seraph, always glowing with
zeal, always unwearied in serving his God, and promoting
the designs of redeeming love in the world ; but, alas ! at

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 255

times his zeal, with his love, languishes and dies away into
a smoking snuff. He is weak in repentance; troubled
with that plague of plagues, a hard heart. He is weak in
the conflict with indwelling sin, that is perpetually making
insurrections within him. He is weak in resisting tempta-
tions; which crowd upon him from without, and are often
likely to overwhelm him. He is weak in courage to en-
counter the king of terrors, and venture through the val-
ley of the shadow of death. He is weak in prayer, in
importunity, in filial boldness, in approaching the mercy-
seat. He is weak in abilities to endeavour the conversion
of sinners and save souls from death. In short, he is weak
in every thing in which he should be strong. He has in-
deed, like the church of Philadelphia, a little strength,
Rev. iii. 8, and at times he feels it ; but oh ! it seems to
him much too little for the work he has to do. These
weaknesses or defects the believer feels, painfully and ten-
derly feels, and bitterly laments. A sense of them keeps
him upon his guard against temptations : he is not venture-
some in rushing into the combat. He would not parley
with temptation, but would keep out of its way; nor
would he run the risk of a defeat by an ostentatious expe-
riment of his strength. This sense of weakness also keeps
him dependent upon divine strength. He clings to that
support given to St. Paul in an hour of hard conflict, My
grace is sufficient for thee ; for my strength is made perfect
in weakness ; and when a sense of his weakness has this
happy effect upon him, then with St. Paul he has reason
to say, When I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Cor. xii.
9, 10.

I say the believer feels and laments these weaknesses ;
and this is the grand distinction in this case between him
and the rest of the world. They are the weak too, much
weaker than he; nay, they have, properly, no spiritual

256 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST.

strength at all ; but, alas ! they do not feel their weakness,
but the poor vain creatures boast of their strength, and
think they can do great things when they are disposed for
them. Or if their repeated falls and defeats by tempta-
tion extort them to a confession of their weakness, they
plead it rather as an excuse, than lament it as at once a
crime and a calamity. But the poor believer tries no
such artifice to extenuate his guilt. He is senible that
even his weakness itself has guilt in it, and therefore he
laments it with ingenuous sorrow among his other sins.

Now, have I not delineated the very character of some
of you ; such weaklings, such frail reeds you feel your-
selves to be ? Well, hear this kind assurance, " Jesus will
not break such a feeble reed, but he will support and
strengthen it."

But you perhaps not only feel you are weak, but you
are oppressed with some heavy burden or other. You
are not only a reed for weakness, but you are a bruised
reed, trodden under foot, crushed under a load. Even
this is no unusual or discouraging case ; for,

The weak believer often feels himself crushed under
some heavy burden. The frail reed is often bruised;
bruised under a due sense of guilt. Guilt lies heavy at
times upon his conscience, and he cannot throw it off.
Bruised with a sense of remaining sin, which he finds still
strong within him, and which at times prevails, and treads
him under foot. Bruised under a burden of wants, the
want of tenderness of heart, of ardent love to God and
mankind, the want of heavenly-mindedness and victory
over the world ; the want of conduct and resolution to
direct his behaviour in a passage so intricate and difficult,
and the want of nearer intercourse with the Father and
his Spirit : in short, a thousand pressing wants crush and
bruise him. He also feels his share of the calamities of

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 257

life in common with other men. But these burdens I
shall take no farther notice of, because they are not pecu-
liar to him as a believer, nor do they lie heaviest upon his
heart. He could easily bear up under the calamities of
life if his spiritual wants were supplied, and the burden
of guilt and sin were removed. Under these last he
groans and sinks. Indeed these burdens lie with all their
full weight upon the world around him ; but they are dead
in trespasses and sins, and feel them not : they do not groan
under them, nor labour for deliverance from them. They
lie contented under them, with more stupidity than beasts
of burden, till they sink under the intolerable load into the
depth of misery. But the poor believer is not so stupid,
and his tender heart feels the burden and groans under it.
We that are in this tabernacle, says St. Paul, do groan,
being burdened. 2 Cor. *v. 4. The believer understands
feelingly that pathetic exclamation, 0 wretched man that I
am ! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?
Rom. vii. 24. He cannot be easy till his conscience is ap-
peased by a well-attested pardon through the blood of
Christ; and the sins he feels working within him are a
real burden and uneasiness to him, though they should
never break out into action, and publicly dishonour his
holy profession.

And is not this the very character of some poor op-
pressed creatures among you? I hope it is. You may
look upon your case to be very discouraging, but Jesus
looks upon it in a more favourable light ; he looks upon
you as proper objects of his compassionate care. Bruised
as you are, he will bind up, and support you.

II. But I proceed to take a view of the character of a
weak Christian, as represented in the other metaphor in
my text, namely, smoking flax. The idea most naturally
conveyed by this metaphor is, that of grace true and sin-

VOL. I.— 33

258 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

cere, but languishing and just expiring, like a candle just
blown out, which still smokes and retains a feeble spark
of fire. It signifies a susceptibility of a farther grace, or
a readiness to catch that sacred fire, as a candle just put
out is easily re-kindled. This metaphor therefore leads
me to describe the reality of religion in a low degree, or
to delineate the true Christian in his most languishing
hours. And in so doing I shall mention those disposi-
tions and exercises which the weakest Christian feels, even
in these melancholy seasons; for even in these he widely
differs still from the most polished hypocrite in his highest
improvements. On this subject let me solicit your most
serious attention ; for, if you have the least spark of real
religion within you, you are now likely to discover it, as I
am not going to rise to the high attainments of Christians
of the first rank, but to stoop to the character of the mean-
est. Now the peculiar dispositions and exercises of heart
which such in some measure feel, you may discover from
the following short history of their case.

The weak Christian in such languishing hours does in-
deed sometimes fall into such a state of carelessness and
insensibility, that he has very few and but superficial exer-
cises of mind about divine things. But generally he feels
an uneasiness, an emptiness, an anxiety within, under
which he droops and pines away, and all the world cannot
heal the disease ! He has chosen the blessed God as his
supreme happiness ; and, when he cannot derive happiness
from that source, all the sweets of created enjoyments be-
come insipid to him, and cannot fill up the prodigious void
which the absence of the Supreme Good leaves in his crav-
ing soul. Sometimes his anxiety is indistinct and con-
fused, and he hardly knows what ails him; but at other
times he feels it is for God, the living God, that his soul
pants. The evaporations of this smoking flax naturally

TO WEAK BELIEVERS.

ascend towards heaven. He knows that he never can be
happy till he can enjoy the communications of divine love.
Let him turn which way he will, he can find no solid ease,
no rest, till he comes to this centre again.

Even at such times he cannot be thoroughly reconciled
to his sins. He may be parleying with some of them in
an unguarded hour, and seem to be negotiating a peace ;
but the truce is soon ended, and they are at variance again.
The enmity of a renewed heart soon rises against this old
enemy. And there is this circumstance remarkable in the
believer's hatred and opposition to sin, that they do not
proceed principally, much less entirely, from a fear of
punishment, but from a generous sense to its instrinsic
baseness and ingratitude, and its contrariety to the holy
nature of God. This is the ground of his hatred to sin, and
sorrow for it ; and this shows that there is at least a spark
of true grace in his heart, and that he does not act altogether
from the low, interested, and mercenary principles of nature.

At such times he is very jealous of the sincerity of his
religion, afraid that all his past experiences were delusive,
and afraid that, if he should die in his present state, he
would be for ever miserable. A very anxious state is this !

The stupid world can lie secure while this grand con-
cern lies in the most dreadful suspense. But the tender-
hearted believer is not capable of such fool-hardiness: he
shudders at the thought of everlasting separation from that
God and Saviour whom he loves. He loves him, and
therefore the fear of separation from him, fills him with all
the anxiety of bereaved love. This to him is the most
painful ingredient of the punishment of hell. Hell would
be a sevenfold hell to a lover of God, because it is a state
of banishment from him whom he loves. He could for
ever languish and pine away under the consuming dis-
tresses of widowed love, which those that love him cannot

260 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

feel. And has God kindled the sacred flame in his heart
in order to render him capable of the more exquisite pain ?
Will he exclude from his presence the poor creature that
clings to him, and languishes for him ? No, the flax that
does but smoke with his love was never intended to be
fuel for hell ; but he will blow it up into a flame, and nour-
ish it till it mingles with the seraphic ardours in the region
of perfect love.

The weak believer seems sometimes driven by the tem-
pest of lusts and temptation from off the rock of Jesus
Christ. But he makes towards it on the stormy billows,
and labours to lay hold upon it, and recover his station
there ; for he is sensible there is no other foundation of
safety; but that without Christ he must perish for ever.
It is the habitual disposition of the believer's soul to de-
pend upon Jesus Christ alone. He retains a kind of
direction or tendency towards him, like the needle touched
with the load-stone towards the pole ; and, if his heart is
turned from its course, it trembles and quivers till it gains
its favourite point again, and fixes there. Sometimes, in-
deed, a consciousness of guilt renders him shy of his God
and Saviour ; and after such base ingratitude he is ashamed
to go to him : but at length necessity as well as inclina-
tion constrains him, and he is obliged to cry out, Lord, to
whom shall I go ? thou hast the words of eternal life.
John vi. 68. "In thee alone I find rest to my soul; and
therefore to thee I must fly, though I am ashamed and
confounded to appear in thy presence."

In short, the weakest Christian upon earth sensibly feels
that his comfort rises and falls, as he lives nearer to or
farther from his God. The love of God has such an
habitual predominancy even in his heart, that nothing in the
world, nor even all the world together, can fill up his
place. No, when he is gone, heaven and earth cannot re-

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 261

plenlsh the mighty void. Even the weakest Christian
upon earth longs to be delivered from sin, from all sin,
without exception: and a body of death hanging about
him is the burden of his life. Even the poor jealous lan-
guishing Christian has his hope, all the little hope that he
has, built upon Jesus Christ. Even this smoking flax
sends up some exhalations of love towards heaven. Even
the poor creature that often fears he is altogether a slave
to sin, honestly, though feebly, labours to be holy, to be
holy as an angel, yea, to be holy as God is holy. He has
a heart that feels the attractive charms of holiness, and he
is so captivated by it, that sin can never recover its former
place in his heart: no, the tyrant is for ever dethroned,
and the believer would rather die than yield himself a
tame slave to the usurped tyranny again.

Thus I have delineated to you, in the plainest manner I
could, the character of a weak Christian. Some of you,
I am afraid, cannot lay claim even to this low character.
If so, you may be sure you are not true Christians, even
of the lowest rank. You may be sure you have not the
least spark of true religion in your hearts, but are utterly
destitute of it.

But some of you, I hope, can say, " Well, after all my
doubts and fears, .if this be the character of a true, though
weak Christian, then I may humbly hope that I am one.
I am indeed confirmed in it, that I am less than the least
of all other saints upon the face of the earth, but yet I see
that I am a saint ; for thus has my heart been exercised,
even in my dark and languishing hours. This secret un-
easiness and pining anxiety, this thirst for God, for the
living God, this tendency of soul towards Jesus Christ,
this implacable enmity to sin, this panting and struggling
after holiness : these things have I often felt." And have
you indeed ? Then away with your doubts and jealousies ;

2G2 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

away with your fears and despondencies ! There is at
least an immortal spark kindled in your hearts, which the
united power of men and devils, of sin and temptation, shall
never be able to quench. No, it shall yet rise into a flarne,
and burn with seraphic ardours for ever.

For your farther encouragement, I proceed,

II. To illustrate the care and compassion of Jesus
Christ for such poor weaklings as you.

This may appear a needless task to some : for who is
there that does not believe it ? But to such would I say,
it is no easy thing to establish a trembling soul in the full
belief of this truth. It is easy for one that does not see
his danger, and does not feel his extreme need of salva-
tion, and the difficulty of the work, to believe that Christ
is willing and able to save him. But oh ! to a poor soul,
deeply sensible of its condition, this is no easy matter.
Besides, the heart may need be more deeply affected with
this truth, though the understanding should need no farther
arguments of the speculative kind for its conviction ; and
to impress this truth is my present design.

For this purpose I need but read and paraphrase to you
a few of the many kind declarations and assurances which
Jesus has given us in his word, and relate the happy ex-
periences of some of his saints there recorded, who found
him true and faithful to his. word.

The Lord Jesus Christ seems to have a peculiar ten-
derness for the poor, the mourners, the broken-hearted ;
and these are peculiarly the objects of his mediatorial
office. The LORD hath anointed me, says he, to preach
good tidings to the meek ; he hath sent me all the way
from my native heaven down to earth, upon this compas-
sionate errand, to bind up the broken-hearted, to appoint
unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty
for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 263

praise for the spirit of heaviness. Isa. Ixi. 1-3. Thus
saith the LORD, in strains of majesty that become him, The
heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool : where
is the house that ye build unto me ? and where is the place
of my rest 1 For all those things hath my hand made,
saith the LORD. Had he spoken uniformly in this majestic
language to us guilty worms, the declaration might have
overwhelmed us with awe, but could not have inspired us
with hope. But he advances himself thus high, on pur-
pose to let us see how low he can stoop. Hear the en-
couraging sequel of this his majestic speech: To this man
will 1 look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite
spirit, and trembleth at my word. Let heaven and earth
wonder that he will look down through all the shining
ranks of angels, and look by princes and nobles to fix his
eye upon this man, this poor man, this contrite, broken-
hearted, trembling creature. Isa. Ixvi. 1, 2. He loves to
dwell upon this subject, and therefore you hear it again in
the same prophecy : " Thus saith the high and lofty One
that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy/' — what does
he say? I dwell in the high and holy place. Isa. Ivii. 15.
This is said in character. This is a dwelling in some
measure worthy the inhabitant. But oh! will he stoop to
dwell in a lower mansion, or pitch his tent among mortals ?
yes, he dwells not only in his high and holy place, but
also, with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to
revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of
the contrite ones. He charges Peter to feed his lambs as
well as his sheep; that is, to take the tenderest care even
of the weakest in his flock. John xxi. 15. And he
severely rebukes the shepherds of Israel, Because, says he,
ye have not strengthened the diseased, neither have ye
healed that which was sick, neither have ye bound up that
which was broken. Ezek. xxxiv. 4. But what an amiable

264 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

reverse is the character of the great Shepherd and Bishop
of souls ! Behold, says Isaiah, the Lord God will come
with strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him : behold
his reward is with him, and his work before him. How
justly may we tremble at this proclamation of the ap-
proaching God! for who can stand when he appeareth?
But how agreeably are our fears disappointed in what fol-
lows! If he comes to take vengeance on his enemies, he
also comes to show mercy to the meanest of his people.
He shall feed his flock like a shepherd : he shall gather the
lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and
shall gently lead those that are with young : Isa. xl. 10,
11, that is, he shall exercise the tenderest and most com-
passionate care towards the meanest and weakest of his
flock. He hath looked down, says the Psalmist, from the
height of his sanctuary; from heaven did the Lord behold
the earth; not to view the grandeur and pride of courts
and kings, nor the heroic exploits of conquerors, but to
hear the groaning of the prisoner, to loose those that are
appointed to death. He will regard the prayer of the
destitute, and not despise their prayer. This shall be
written for the generation to come. Psalm cii. 17-20. It
was written for your encouragement, my brethren. Above
three thousand years ago, this encouraging passage was
entered into the sacred records for the support of poor de-
sponding souls in Virginia, in the ends of the earth. Oh,
what an early provident care does God show for his
people ! There are none of the seven churches of Asia
so highly commended by Christ as that of Philadelphia;
and yet in commending her, all he can say is, " Thou hast
a little strength." / know thy works ; behold I have set
before thee an open door, and no man can shut it : for
thou hast a little strength. Rev. iii. 8. Oh, how accept-
able is a little strength to Jesus Christ, and how ready is

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 265

he to improve it! He giveth power to the faint, says
Isaiah, and to them that have no might he increaseth
strength. Isa. xl. 29. Hear farther what words of grace
and truth flowed from the lips of Jesus. Come unto me,
all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest : for I am meek and lowly in heart, Matt. xi. 28, 29.
Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out. John
vi. 37. If any man thirst, let him come unto me and
drink. John vii. 37. Let him that is athirst come : and
whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely.
Rev. xxii. 17. Oh, what strong consolation is. here!
what exceeding great and precious promises are these !
I might easily add to the catalogue, but these may
suffice.

Let us now see how his people in every age have ever
found these promises made good. Here David may be
consulted instar omnium, and he will tell you, pointing to
himself, This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him,
and saved him out of all his troubles. Psalm xxxiv. 6.
St. Paul, in the midst of affliction, calls God the Father of
mercies and the God of all comfort, who comforteth us in
all our tribulation. 2 Cor. i. 3, 4. God, says he that com-
forteth those that are cast down, comforted us. 2 Cor.
vii. 6. What a sweetly emphatic declaration is this!
" God, the comforter of the humble, comforted us."* He
is not only the Lord of hosts, the King of kings, the
Creator of the world, but among his more august cha-
racters he assumes this title, the Comforter of " the
humble." Such St. Paul found him in an hour of tempta-
tion, when he had this supporting answer to his repeated
prayer for deliverance, My grace is sufficient for thee ; for
my strength is made perfect in weakness. 2 Cor. xii. 9.

* This is the most literal translation of 5 ira/SaKaXcov rotif ra-ntiovf irapCKa\c<rev

fjuSf b Btdf.

VOL. I.— 34

266 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST

Since this was the case, since his weakness was more than
supplied by the strength of Christ, and was a foil to set it
off, St. Paul seems quite regardless what infirmities he
laboured under. Nay, most gladly, says he, will I rather
glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest
upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities — -for
when I am weak, then am I strong. He could take no
pleasure in feeling himself weak: but the mortification
was made up by the pleasure he found in leaning upon
this almighty support. His wounds were painful to him :
but, oh! the pleasure he found in feeling the divine physi-
cian dressing his wounds, in some measure swallowed up
the pain. It was probably experience, as well as inspira-
tion, that dictated to the apostle that amiable character of
Christ, that he is a "merciful and faithful High Priest,
who, being himself tempted, knows how to succour them
that are tempted." Heb. ii. 17, 18. And "we have not a
high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of
our infirmities: but was in all points tempted like as we
are, yet without sin." Heb iv. 15.

But why need I multiply arguments? Go to his cross,
and there learn his love and compassion, from his groans
and wounds, and blood, and death. Would he hang there
in such agony for sinners if he were not willing to save
them, and cherish every good principle in them ? There
you may have much the same evidence of his compassion
as Thomas had of his resurrection; you may look into his
hands, and see the print of the nails ; and into his side, and
see the scar of the spear; which loudly proclaims his
readiness to pity and help you.

And now, poor, trembling, doubting souls, what hinders
but you should raise up your drooping head, and take
courage? May you not venture your souls into such
compassionate and faithful hands? Why should the

TO WEAK BELIEVERS. 267

bruised reed shrink from him, when he comes not to tread
it down, but raise it up?

As I am really solicitous that impenitent hearts among
us should be pierced with the medicinal anguish and sor-
row of conviction and repentance, and the most friendly
heart cannot form a kinder wish for them, so I am truly
solicitous that every honest soul, in which there is the
least spark of true piety, should enjoy the pleasure of it.
It is indeed to be lamented that they who have a title to
so much happiness should enjoy so little of it ; it is very
incongruous that they should go bowing the head in their
way towards heaven, as if they were hastening to the place
of execution, and that they should serve so good a Master
with such heavy hearts. Oh lift up the hands that hang
down, and strengthen the feeble knees! "Comfort ye,
comfort ye, my people, saith your God." " Be strong in
the Lord, and in the power of his might." Trust in your
all-sufficient Redeemer; trust in him though he should
slay you.

And do not indulge causeless doubts and fears concern-
ing your sincerity. When they arise in your minds, ex-
amine them, and search whether there be any sufficient
reason for them; and if you discover there is not, then re-
ject them and set them at defiance, and entertain your
hopes in spite of them, and say with the Psalmist, " Why
art thou cast down, oh my soul? and why art thou dis-
quieted within me ? Hope thou in God : for I shall yet
praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my
God." Psalm xlii. 11.

268 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

SERMON IX.

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PRESENT HOLINESS AND FU-
TURE FELICITY.

HEB. xii. 14. — Follow holiness ; without which no man
shall see the Lord.

As the human soul was originally designed for the en-
joyment of no less a portion than the ever-blessed God, it
was formed with a strong innate tendency towards happi-
ness. It has not only an eager fondness for existence, but
for some good to render its existence happy. And the
privation of being itself is not more terrible than the pri-
vation of all its blessings. It is true, in the present de-
generacy of human nature, this vehement desire is miser-
ably perverted and misplaced; man seeks his supreme
happiness in sinful, or at best in created enjoyments, for-
getful of the uncreated fountain of bliss ; but yet still he
seeks happiness : still this innate impetus is predominant,
and though he mistakes the means, yet he still retains a
general aim at the end. Hence he ransacks this lower
world in quest of felicity ; climbs in search of it the slip-
pery ascent of honour; hunts for it in the treasures of
gold and silver; or plunges for it in the foul streams of
sensual pleasures. But since all the sordid satisfaction re-
sulting from these things is not adequate to the unbounded
cravings of the mind, and since the satisfaction is transitory
and perishing, or we may be wrenched from it by the in-
exorable hand of death, the mind breaks through the limits

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 269

of the present enjoyments, and even of the lower creation,
and ranges through the unknown scenes of futurity in
quest of some untried good. Hope makes excursions into
the dark duration between the present now and the grave,
and forms to itself pleasing images of approaching bless-
ings, which often vanish in the embrace, like delusive
phantoms. Nay, it launches into the vast unknown world
that lies beyond the grave, and roves through the regions
of immensity after some complete felicity to supply the
defects of sublunary enjoyments. Hence, though men,
till their spirits are refined by regenerating grace, have no
relish for celestial joys, but pant for the poor pleasures of
time and sense, yet as they cannot avoid the unwelcome
consciousness that death will ere long rend them from
these sordid and momentary enjoyments, are constrained
to indulge the hope of bliss in a future state : and they
promise themselves happiness in another world when they
can no longer enjoy any in this. And as reason and re-
velation unitedly assure them that this felicity cannot con-
sist in sensual indulgences, they generally expect it will be
of a more refined and spiritual nature, and flow more im-
mediately from the great Father of spirits.

He must indeed be miserable that abandons all hope of
this blessedness. The Christian religion affords him no
other prospect but that of eternal, intolerable misery in the
regions of darkness and despair; and if he flies to infi-
delity as a refuge, it can afford him no comfort but the
shocking prospect of annihilation.

Now, if men were pressed into heaven by an unavoid-
able fatality, if happiness was promiscuously promised to
them all without distinction of characters, then they might
indulge a blind unexamined hope, and never perplex them-
selves with anxious inquiries about it. And he might
justly be deemed a malignant disturber of the repose of

270 THE CONNECTION BEWEEN

mankind, that would attempt to shock their hope, and
frighten them with causeless scruples.

But if the light of nature intimates, and the voice of
Scripture proclaims aloud, that this eternal felicity is re-
served only for persons of particular characters, and that
multitudes, multitudes who entertained pleasing hopes of
it, are confounded with an eternal disappointment, and
shall suffer an endless duration in the most terrible mise-
ries, we ought each of us to take the alarm, and examine
the grounds of our hope, that, if they appear sufficient,
we may allow ourselves a rational satisfaction in them ;
and if they are found delusive, we may abandon them, and
seek for a hope which will bear the test now while it may
be obtained. And however disagreeable the task be to
give our fellow-creatures even profitable uneasiness, yet he
must appear to the impartial a friend to the best interests
of mankind, who points out the evidences and foundation
of a rational and Scriptural hope, and exposes the va-
rious mistakes to which we are subject in so important a
case.

And if, when we look around us, we find persons full
of the hopes of heaven, who can give no Scriptural evi-
dences of them to themselves or others; if we find many
indulging this pleasing delusion, whose practices are men-
tioned by God himself as the certain marks of perishing
sinners; and if persons are so tenacious of these hopes,
that they will retain them to their everlasting ruin, unless
the most convictive methods are taken to undeceive them;
then it is high time for those to whom the care of souls
(a weightier charge than that of kingdoms) is entrusted, to
use the greatest plainness for this purpose.

This is my chief design at present, and to this my text
naturally leads me. It contains these doctrines :

First, That without holiness here, it is impossible for us

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 271

to enjoy heavenly happiness in the future world. To see
the Lord, is here put for enjoying him ; see Rom. viii. 24.
And the metaphor signifies the happiness of the future
state in general ; and more particularly intimates that the
knowledge of God will be a special ingredient therein.
See a parallel expression in Matt. v. 8.

Secondly, that this consideration should induce us to use
the most earnest endeavours to obtain the heavenly happi-
ness. Pursue holiness, because without it no man can see
the Lord.

Hence I am naturally led,

I. To explain the nature of that holiness, without which
no man shall see the Lord.

II. To show what endeavours should be used to obtain
it. And,

III. To urge you to use them by the consideration of
the absolute necessity of holiness.

I. I am to explain the nature of holiness. And I shall
give you a brief definition of it, and then mention some
of those dispositions and practices which naturally flow
from it.

The most intelligible description of holiness, as it is in-
herent in us, may be this : " It is a conformity in heart and
practice to the revealed will of God." As the Supreme
Being is the standard of all perfection, his holiness in par-
ticular is the standard of ours. Then we are holy when
his image is stamped upon our hearts and reflected in our
lives ; so the apostle defines it, and that ye put on the new
man, which after God is created in righteousness and true
holiness. Eph. iv. 24. Whom he did predestinate to be
conformed to the image of his Son. Rom. viii. 29. Hence
holiness may be defined, "A conformity to God in his
moral perfections." But as we cannot have a distinct
knowledge of these perfections but as they are manifested

272 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

by the revealed will of God, I choose to define holiness,
as above, " A conformity to his revealed will." Now his
revealed will comprises both the law and the gospel; the
law informs us of the duty which we as creatures owe to
God as a being of supreme excellency, as our Creator and
Benefactor, and to men as our fellow-creatures ; and the
gospel informs us of the duty which as sinners we owe to
God as reconcilable through a Mediator. Our obedience
to the former implies the whole of morality, and to the
latter the whole of evangelical graces, as faith in a Medi-
ator, repentance, &c.

From this definition of holiness it appears, on the one
hand, that it is absolutely necessary, to see the Lord ; for
unless our dispositions are conformed to him, we cannot
be happy in the enjoyment of him; and on the other
hand, that they who are made thus holy, are prepared for
the vision and fruition of his face, as they can relish the
divine pleasure.

But as a concise definition of holiness may give an audi-
tory but very imperfect ideas of it, I shall expatiate upon
the dispositions and practices in which it consists, or
which naturally result from it ; and they are such as follow :

1. A delight in God for his holiness. Self-love may
prompt us to love him for his goodness to us ; and so,
many unregenerate men may have a selfish love to God
on this account. But to love God because he is infinitely
holy, because he bears an infinite detestation to all sin,
and will not indulge his creatures in the neglect, of the
least instance of holiness, but commands them to be holy
as he is holy, this is a disposition connatural to a renewed
soul only, and argues a conformity to his image. Every
nature is most agreeable to itself, and a holy nature is most
agreeable to a holy nature.

Here I would make a remark, which may God deeply

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 273

impress on your hearts, and which for that purpose I shall
subjoin to each particular, that holiness in fallen man is
supernatural ; I mean we are not born with it, we give no
discoveries of it, till we have experienced a great change.
Thus we find it in the present case ; we have no natural
love to God because of his infinite purity and hatred to
all sin ; nay, we would love him more did he give us
greater indulgences; and I am afraid the love of some
persons is founded upon a mistake; they love him because
they imagine he does not hate sin, nor them for it, so
much as he really does ; because they do not expect he is
so inexorably just in his dealings with the sinner. It is
no wonder they love such a soft, easy, passive being as
this imaginary deity ; but did they see the lustre of that
holiness of God which dazzles the celestial armies; did
they but know the terrors of his justice, and his implacable
indignation against sin, their innate enmity would show its
poison, and their hearts would rise against God in all those
horrible blasphemies with which awakened sinners are so
frequently shocked. Such love as this is so far from
being acceptable, that it is the greatest affront to the Su-
preme Being; as, if a profligate loved you on the mis-
taken supposition that you were such a libertine as himself,
it would rather inflame your indignation than procure your
respect.

But to a regenerate mind how strong, how transporting
are the charms of holiness ! Such a mind joins the anthem
of seraphs with the divinest complacency, Rev. iv. 8, and
anticipates the song of glorified saints, Who shall not fear
thee, 0 Lord, and glorify thy name ? for thou only art
holy. Rev. xv. 4. The perfections of God lose their
lustre, or sink into objects of terror or contempt, if this
glorious attribute be abstracted. Without holiness power
becomes tyranny, omniscience craft, justice revenge and

VOL. I.— 36

274 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

cruelty, and even the amiable attribute of goodness loses
its charms, and degenerates into a blind promiscuous pro-
digality, or foolish undiscerning fondness : but when these
perfections are clothed in the beauties of holiness, how
Godlike, how majestic, how lovely and attractive do
they appear! and with what complacence does a mind
fashioned after the divine image acquiesce in them.
It may appear amiable even to an unholy sinner
that the exertions of almighty power should be regulated
by the most consummate wisdom ; that justice should not
without distinction punish the guilty and the innocent : but
an holy soul only can rejoice that divine goodness will not
communicate happiness to the disgrace of holiness; and
that, rather than it should overflow in a blind promiscuous
manner, the whole human race should be miserable. A
selfish sinner has nothing in view but his own happiness;
and if this be obtained, he has no anxiety about the illus-
tration of the divine purity; but it recommends happiness
itself to a sanctified soul, that it cannot be communicated
in a way inconsistent with the beauties of holiness.

2. Holiness consists in a hearty complacence in the law
of God, because of its purity. The law is the transcript
of the moral perfections of God ; and if we love the ori-
ginal, we shall love the copy. Accordingly it is natural
to a renewed mind to love the divine law, because it is
perfectly holy, because it makes no allowance for the least
sin, and requires every duty that it becomes us to perform
towards God. Psalm cxix. 140, and xix. 7-10, Romans
vii. 12, compared with 22.

But is this our natural disposition 1 Is this the dispo-
sition of the generality ? Do they not, on the contrary,
secretly find fault with the law, because it is so strict ?
And their common objection against that holiness of life
which it enjoins is, that they cannot bear to be so precise.

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 275

Hence they are always for abating the rigour of the law,
for bringing it down to some imaginary standard of their
own, to their present ability, to sins of practice without
regard to the sinful dispositions of the heart; or to the
prevailing dispositions of the heart without regard to the
first workings of concupiscence, those embryos of iniquity ;
and if they love the law at all, as they profess to do, it is
upon the supposition that it is not so strict as it really
is, but grants them greater indulgences. Rom. vii. 7.

Hence it appears that, if we are made holy at all, it
must be by a supernatural change; and when that is
effected, what a strange and happy alteration does the sin-
ner perceive ! with what pleasure does he resign himself a
willing subject to that law to which he was once so averse !
And when he fails, (as alas ! he does in many things,) how
is he humbled ! He does not lay the fault upon the law
as requiring impossibilities, but lays the whole fault upon
himself as a corrupt sinner.

3. Holiness consists in a hearty complacence in the
gospel method of salvation, because it tends to illustrate
the moral perfections of the Deity, and to discover the
beauties of holiness.

The gospel informs us of two grand pre-requisites to
the salvation of the fallen sons of men, namely, the satis-
faction of divine justice by the obedience and passion of
Christ, that God might be reconciled to them consistently
with his perfections ; and the sanctification of sinners by
the efficacy of the Holy Ghost, that they might be capa-
ble of enjoying God, and that he might maintain intimate
communion with them without any stain to his holiness.
These two grand articles contain the substance of the gos-
pel ; and our acquiescence in them is the substance of that
evangelical obedience which it requires of us, and which is
essential to holiness in a fallen creature.

276 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

Now, it is evident, that without either of these the
moral perfections of the Deity, particularly his holiness,
could not be illustrated, or even secured in the salvation
of a sinner. Had he received an apostate race into
favour, who had conspired in the most unnatural rebellion
against him, without any satisfaction, his holiness would
have been eclipsed ; it would not have appeared that he
had so invincible an abhorrence of sin, so zealous a re-
gard for the vindication of his own holy law ; or to his
veracity, which had threatened condign punishment to
offenders. But by the satisfaction of Christ, his holiness
is illustrated in the most conspicuous manner : now it ap-
pears, that God would upon no terms save a sinner but
that of adequate satisfaction, and that no other was suffi-
cient but the suffering of his co-equal Son, otherwise he
would not have appointed him to sustain the character of
a Mediator ; and now it appears that his hatred of sin is
such that he would not let it pass unpunished even in his
own Son, when only imputed to him. In like manner, if
sinners, while unholy, were admitted into communion with
God in heaven, it would obscure the glory of his holiness,
and it would not then appear that such was the purity of
his nature that he could have no fellowship with sin.
But now it is evident, that even the blood of Immanuel
cannot purchase heaven to be enjoyed by a sinner while
unholy, but that every one that arrives at heaven must first
be sanctified. An unholy sinner can no more be saved,
while such, by the gospel than by the law ; but here lies
the difference, that the gospel makes provision for his
sanctification, which is gradually carried on here, and per-
fected at death, before his admission into the heavenly glory.

Now it is the genius of true holiness to acquiesce in
both these articles. A sanctified soul places all its de-
pendence on the righteousness of Christ for acceptance.

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 277

It would be disagreeable to it to have the least concur-
rence in its own justification. It is not only willing, but
delights to renounce all its own righteousness, and to glory
in Christ alone. Phil. iii. 3. Free grace to such souls is
a charming theme, and salvation is more acceptable, be-
cause conveyed in this way. It would render heaven it-
self disagreeable, and wither all its joys, were they brought
thither in a way that degrades or does not illustrate the
glory of God's holiness; but oh how agreeable the
thought, that he that glorieth must glory in the Lord, and
that the pride of all flesh shall be abased !

So a holy person rejoiceth that the way of holiness is
the appointed way to heaven. He is not forced to be
holy merely by the servile consideration that he must be
so or perish, and so unwillingly submits to the necessity
which he cannot avoid, when in the meantime, were it
put to his choice, he would choose to reserve some sins,
and neglect some painful duties. So far from this, that
he delights in the gospel-constitution, because it requires
universal holiness, and heaven would be less agreeable,
were he to carry even the least sin there. He thinks it
no hardship that he must deny himself in his sinful plea-
sures, and habituate himself to so much strictness in re-
ligion ; no, but he blesses the Lord for obliging him to it,
and where he fails he charges himself with it, and is self-
abased upon the account.

This is solid rational religion, fit to be depended upon,
in opposition to the antinomian licentiousness, the freaks
of enthusiasm, and the irrational flights of passion and im-
agination on the one hand ; and in opposition to formality,
mere morality, and the self-sprung religion of nature
on the other. And is it not evident we are destitute of
this by nature ? Men naturally are averse to this gospel
method of salvation ; they will not submit to the righteous-

278 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

ness of God, but fix tlieir dependence, in part at least, upon
their own merit. Their proud hearts cannot bear the
thought that all their performances must go for just noth-
ing in their justification. They are also averse to the way
of holiness ; hence they will either abandon the expecta-
tion of heaven, and since they cannot obtain it in their sin-
ful ways, desperately conclude to go on in sin, come what
will ; or, with all the little sophistry they are capable of,
they will endeavour to widen the way to heaven, and per-
suade themselves they shall attain it, notwithstanding their
continuance in some known iniquity, and though their
hearts have never been thoroughly sanctified. Alas ! how
evident is this all around us ! How many either give up
their hopes of heaven rather than part with sin, or vainly
hold them, while their dispositions and practices prove
them groundless! And must not such degenerate crea-
tures be renewed ere they can be holy, or see the Lord ?
4. Holiness consists in an habitual delight in all the
duties of holiness towards God and man, and an earnest
desire for communion with God in them. This is the
natural result of all the foregoing particulars. If we love
God for his holiness, we shall delight in that service in
which our conformity to him consists ; if we love his law,
we shall delight in that obedience which it enjoins ; and if
we take complacence in the evangelical method of salvation,
we shall take delight in that holiness, without which we can-
not enjoy it. The service of God is the element, the
pleasure of a holy soul ; while others delight in the riches,
the honours, or the pleasures of this world, the holy soul
desires one thing of the Lord, that it may behold his
beauty while inquiring in his temple. Psalm xxvii. 4.
Such a person delights in retired converse with heaven, in
meditation and prayer. Psalm cxxxix. 17, and Ixiii. 5, 6,
and Ixxiii. 28. He also takes pleasure in justice, benevo-

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 279

lence, and charity towards men, Psalm cxii. 5, 9, and in
the strictest temperance and sobriety. 1 Cor. ix. 27.

Moreover, the mere formality of performing religious
duties does not satisfy the true saint, unless he enjoys a
divine friendship therein, receives communications of grace
from heaven, and finds his graces quickened. Psalm
xlii. 1, 2.

This consideration also shows us that holiness in us
must be supernatural ; for do we naturally thus delight in
the service of God ? or do you all now thus delight in it 1
is it not rather a weariness to you, and do you not find
more pleasures in other things ? Surely you must be
changed, or you can have no relish for the enjoyments of
heavenly happiness.

5. To constitute us saints indeed there must be univer-
sal holiness in practice. This naturally follows from the
last, for as the body obeys the stronger volitions of the
will, so when the heart is prevailingly disposed to the
service of God, the man will habitually practice it. This is
generally mentioned in Scripture as the grand characteristic
of real religion, without which all our pretensions are vain.
1 John iii. 2-10, and v. 3 ; John xv. 15. True Christians
are far from being perfect in practice, yet they are pre-
vailingly holy in all manner of conversation ; they do not
live habitually in any one known sin, or wilfully neglect
any one known duty. Psalm cxix. 6.

Without this practical holiness no man shall see the
Lord ; and if so, how great a change must be wrought on
most before they can see him, for how few are thus
adorned with a life of universal holiness ! Many profess
the name of Christ, but how few of them depart from
iniquity ? But to what purpose do they call him Master
and Lord, while they do not the things which he com-
mands them 1

280 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

Thus I have, as plainly as I could, described the nature
and properties of that holiness, without which no man shall
see the Lord ; and they who are possessed of it may lift
up their heads with joy, assured that God has begun a
good work in them, and that he will carry it on ; and on
the other hand, they that are destitute of it may be assured,
that unless they are made new creatures they cannot see
the Lord. I come,

II. To show you the endeavours we should use to obtain
this holiness. And they are such as these :

1. Endeavour to know whether you are holy or not by
close examination. It is hard indeed for some to know
positively that they are holy, as they are perplexed with
the appearances of realities, and the fears of counterfeits ;
but it is then easy for many to conclude negatively that
they are not holy as they have not the likeness of it!
To determine this point is of great use to our successful
seeking after holiness. That an unregenerate sinner
should attend on the means of grace with other aims than
one that has reason to believe himself sanctified, is evident.
The anxieties, sorrows, desires, and endeavours of the one
should run in a very different channel from those of the
other. The one should look upon himself as a guilty, con-
demned sinner ; the other should allow himself the plea-
sures of a justified state; the one should pursue after the
implantation ; the other after the increase of holiness : the
one should indulge in a seasonable concern about his lost
condition; the other repose an humble confidence in God
as reconciled to him ; the one should look upon the threat-
enings of God as his doom ; the other embrace the pro-
mises as his portion. Hence it follows, that while we are
mistaken about our state, we cannot use endeavours after
holiness in a proper manner. We act like a physician
that applies medicines at random, without knowing the

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 281

disease. It is a certain conclusion that the most generous
charity, under scriptural limitations, cannot avoid, that
multitudes are destitute of holiness ; and ought not we to
inquire with proper anxiety whether we belong to that
number? Let us be impartial, and proceed according to
evidence. If we find those marks of holiness in heart and
life which have been mentioned, let not an excessive scru-
pulosity frighten us from drawing the happy conclusion :
and, if we find them not, let us exercise so much whole-
some severity against ourselves, as honestly to conclude
we are unholy sinners, and must be renewed before we
can see the Lord. The conclusion, no doubt, will give
you a painful anxiety : but if you was my dearest friend,
I could not form a kinder wish for you than that you
might be incessantly distressed with it till you are born
again. This conclusion will not be always avoidable ; the
light of eternity will force you upon it ; and whether is it
better to give way to it now, when it may be to your ad-
vantage, or be forced to admit it then, when it will be
only a torment ?

2. Awake, arise, and betake yourselves in earnest to
all the means of grace. Your life, your eternal life is con-
cerned, and therefore it calls for all the ardour and earnest-
ness you are capable of exerting. Accustom yourselves
to meditation, converse with yourselves in retirement, and
live no longer strangers at home. Read the word of God
and other good books, with diligence, attention and self-
application. Attend on the public administrations of the
gospel, not as a trifler, but as one that sees his eternal all
concerned. Shun the tents of sin, the rendezvous of sin-
ners, and associate with those that have experienced the
change you want, and can give you proper directions.
Prostrate yourself before the God of heaven, confess your

sin, implore his mercy, cry to him night and day, and give
VOL. I.— 36

282 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN

him no rest, till the importunity prevail, and you take the
kingdom of heaven by violence.

But, after all, acknowledge that it is God that must
work in you both to will and to do, and that when you
have done all these things you are but unprofitable serv-
ants. I do not prescribe these directions as though these
means could effect holiness in you ; no, they can no more
do it than a pen can write without a hand. It is the holy
Spirit's province alone to sanctify a degenerate sinner, but
he is wont to do it while we are waiting upon him in the
use of these means, though our best endeavours give us no
title to his grace ; but he may justly leave us after all in
that state of condemnation and corruption into which we
have voluntarily brought ourselves. I go on,

III. And lastly, to urge you to the use of these means,
from the consideration mentioned in the text, the abso-
lute necessity of holiness to the enjoyment of heavenly
happiness.

Here I would show that holiness is absolutely neces-
sary, and that the consideration of its necessity may
strongly enforce the pursuit of it.

The necessity of holiness appears from the unchange-
able appointment of heaven, and the nature of things.

1. The unchangeable appointment of God excludes all
the unholy from the kingdom of heaven ; see 2 Cor. ix. 6 ;
Rev. xxi. 27; Psalm v. 4, 5; 2 Cor. v. 17; Gal. vi. 15.
It is most astonishing that many who profess to believe the
divine authority of the Scriptures, will yet indulge vain
hopes of heaven in opposition to the plainest declarations
of eternal truth. But though there were no positive con-
stitution excluding the unholy from heaven, yet,

2. The very nature of things excludes sinners from
heaven ; that is, it is impossible, in the nature of things,
that while they are unholy, they could receive happiness

HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 283

from the employments and entertainments of the heavenly
world. If these consisted in the affluence of those things
which sinners delight in here; if its enjoyments were
earthly riches, pleasures, and honours; if its employments
were the amusements of the present life, then they might be
happy there, as far as their sordid natures are capable of
happiness. But these trifles have no place in heaven.
The felicity of that state consists in the contemplation of the
divine perfections, and their displays in the works of crea-
tion, providence, and redemption ; hence it is described by
seeing the Lord, Matt. v. 8, and as a state of knowledge,
1 Cor. xiii. 10-12, in the satisfaction resulting thence.
Ps. xvii. 15, and a complacency in God as a portion, Ps.
Ixxiii. 25, 26, and is perpetual serving and praising the
Lord ; and hence adoration is generally mentioned as the
employ of all the hosts of heaven. These are the enter-
tainments of heaven, and they that cannot find supreme
happiness in these, cannot find it in heaven. But it is evi-
dent these things could afford no satisfaction to an unholy
person. He would pine away at the heavenly feast, for
want of appetite for the entertainment ;' a holy God would
be an object of horror rather than delight to him, and his
service would be a weariness, as it is now. Hence it ap-
pears, that if we do not place our supreme delight in these
things here, we cannot be happy hereafter; for there will
be no change of dispositions in a future state, but only the
perfection of those predominant in us here, whether good
or evil. Either heaven must be changed, or the sinner,
before he can be happy there. Hence also it appears,
that God's excluding such from heaven is no more an act
of cruelty than our not admitting a sick man to a feast,
who has no relish for the entertainments ; or not bringing
a blind man into the light of the sun, or to view a beauti-
ful prospect.

284 CONNECTION BETWEEN HOLINESS AND FELICITY.

We see then that holiness is absolutely necessary; and
what a great inducement should this consideration be to

o

pursue it; if we do not see the Lord, we shall never see
good. We are cut off at death from all earthly enjoy-
ments, and can no longer make experiments to satisfy our
unbounded desires with them ; and we have no God to
supply their room. We are banished from all the joys of
heaven, and how vast, how inconceivably vast is the loss !
We are doomed to the regions of darkness for ever, to
bear the vengeance of eternal fire, to feel the lashes of a
guilty conscience, and to spend an eternity in a horrid in-
timacy with infernal ghosts ; and will we not then rather
follow holiness, than incur so dreadful a doom? By the
terrors of the Lord, then, be persuaded to break off your
sins by righteousness, and follow holiness ; without which
no man shall see the Lord.

MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND GLORIES OF CHRIST. 285

SERMON X.

THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST.

JOHN xviii. 37. — Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou
a king then ? Jesus answered, Thou sayest that I am a
king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came
I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the
truth.

KINGS and kingdoms are the most majestic sounds in the
language of mortals, and have filled the world with noise,
confusions, and blood, since mankind first left the state of
nature, and formed themselves into societies. The dis-
putes of kingdoms for superiority have set the world in
arms from age to age, and destroyed or enslaved a con-
siderable part of the human race ; and the contest is not
yet decided. Our country has been a region of peace and
tranquility for a long time, but it has not been because the
lust of power and riches is extinct in the world, but be-
cause we had no near neighbours whose interest might
clash with ours, or who were able to disturb us. The ab-
sence of an enemy was our sole defence. But now, when
the colonies of the sundry European nations on this conti-
nent begin to enlarge, and approach towards each other,
the scene is changed; now encroachments, depredations,
barbarities, and all the terrors of war begin to surround and
alarm us. Now our country is invaded and ravaged, and
bleeds in a thousand veins. We have already,* so early

* This sermon was preached in Hanover, Virginia, May 9, 1756.

286 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

in the year, received alarm upon alarm : and we may expect
the alarms to grow louder and louder as the season advances.
These commotions and perturbations have had one good
effect upon me, and that is, they have carried away my
thoughts of late into a serene and peaceful region, a re-
gion beyond the reach of confusion and violence ; I mean
the kingdom of the Prince of Peace. And thither, my
brethren, I would also transport your minds this day, as
the best refuge from this boisterous world, and the most
agreeable mansion for the lovers of peace and tranquillity.
I find it advantageous both to you and myself, to entertain
you with those subjects that have made the deepest impres-
sion upon my own mind : and this is the reason why I
choose the present subject. In my text you hear one en-
tering a claim to a kingdom, whom you would conclude,
if you regarded only his outward appearance, to be the
meanest and vilest of mankind. To hear a powerful
prince, at the head of a victorious army, attended with all
the royalties of his character, to hear such an one claim
the kingdom he had acquired by force of arms, would not
be strange. But here the despised Nazarene, rejected by
his nation, forsaken by his followers, accused as the worst
of criminals, standing defenceless at Pilate's bar, just about
to be condemned and hung on a cross, like a malefactor
and a slave; here he speaks in a royal style, even to his
judge, I am a King : for this purpose was I born, and
for this cause came I into the world. Strange language
indeed to proceed from his lips in these circumstances !
But the truth is, a great, a divine personage is concealed
under this disguise ; and his kingdom is of such a nature,
that his abasement and crucifixion were so far from being
a hinderance to it, that they were the only way to acquire
it. These sufferings were meritorious; and by these he
purchased his subjects, and a right to rule them.

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 287

The occasion of these words was this : the unbelieving
Jews were determined to put Jesus to death as an impos-
tor. The true reason of their opposition to him was, that
he had severely exposed their hypocrisy, claimed the cha-
racter of the Messiah, without answering their expecta-
tions as a temporal prince and mighty conqueror; and in-
troduced a new religion, which superseded the law of
Moses, in which they had been educated. But this rea-
son they knew would have but little weight with Pilate
the Roman governor, who was a heathen, and had no re-
gard to their religion. They therefore bring a charge of
another kind, which they knew would touch the governor
very sensibly, and that was, that Christ had set himself up
as the King of the Jews ; which was treason against Caasar
the Roman emperor, under whose yoke they then were.
This was all pretence and artifice. They would now seem
to be very loyal to the emperor, and unable to bear with
any claims inconsistent with his authority; whereas, in
truth, they were impatient of a foreign government, and
were watching for any opportunity to shake it off. And
had Christ been really guilty of the charge they alleged
against him, he would have been the more acceptable to
them. Had he set himself up as a king of the Jews, in
opposition to Caesar, and employed his miraculous powers
to make good his claim, the whole nation would have wel-
comed him as their deliverer, and flocked round his stand-
ard. But Jesus came not to work a deliverance of this
kind, nor to erect such a kingdom as they desired, and
therefore they rejected him as an impostor. This charge,
however, they bring against him, in order to carry their
point with the heathen governor. They knew he was
zealous for the honour and interest of Caesar his master;
and Tiberius, the then Roman emperor, was so jealous a
prince, and kept so many spies over his governors in all

288 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

the provinces, that they were obliged to be very circum-
spect, and show the strictest regard for his rights, in order
to escape degradation, or a severer punishment. It was
this that determined Pilate, in the struggle with his con-
science, to condemn the innocent Jesus. He was afraid
the Jews would inform against him, as dismissing one that
set up as the rival of Caesar ; and the consequence of this
he well knew. The Jews were sensible of this, and there-
fore they insist upon this charge, and at length plainly tell
him, If thou let this man go, thou art not Casar's friend.
Pilate, therefore, who cared but little what innovations
Christ should introduce into the Jewish religion, thought
proper to inquire into this matter, and asks him, " Art thou
the King of the Jews?" dost thou, indeed, claim such a
character, which may interfere with Caesar's government?
Jesus replies, My kingdom is not of this world ; as much
as to say, " I do not deny that I claim a kingdom, but it is
of such a nature, that it need give no alarm to the kings
of the earth. Their kingdoms are of this world, but
mine is spiritual and divine,* and therefore cannot inter-
fere with theirs. If my kingdom were of this world, like
theirs, I would take the same methods with them to obtain
and secure it ; my servants would fight for me, that I should
not be delivered to the Jews ; but now, you see, I use no
such means for my defence, or to raise me to my kingdom :
and therefore you may be assured my kingdom is not from
hence, and can give the Roman emperor no umbrage for
suspicion or uneasiness." Pilate answers to this purpose :
Thou dost, however, speak of a kingdom ; and art thou a
king then 1 dost thou in any sense claim that character ? The

* Domitian, the Roman emperor, being apprehensive that Christ's earthly
relations might claim a kingdom in his right, inquired of them concerning
the nature of his kingdom, and when and where it should be set up. They
replied, " It was not earthly, but heavenly and angelical, and to be set up
at the end of the world."

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 289

poor prisoner boldly replies, Thou sayest that lam a king ;
that is, " Thou hast struck upon the truth : I am indeed a
king, in a certain sense, and nothing shall constrain me to
renounce the title. To this end was I born, and for this
cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness to
the truth ; particularly to this truth, which now looks so
unlikely, namely, that' I am really a king. I was born to a
kingdom and a crown, and came into the world to take pos-
session of my right." This is that good confession which
St. Paul tells us, 1 Tim. vi. 13, our Lord witnessed before
Pontius Pilate. Neither the hopes of deliverance, nor the
terrors of death, could cause him to retract it, or renounce
his claim.

In prosecuting this subject I intend only to inquire into
the nature and properties of the kingdom of Christ. And
in order to render my discourse the more familiar, and to
adapt it to the present state of our country, I shall con-
sider this kingdom in contrast with the kingdoms of the
earth, with which we are better acquainted.

The Scriptures represent the Lord Jesus under a great
variety of characters, which, though insufficient fully to
represent him, yet, in conjunction, assist us to form such
exalted ideas of this great personage as mortals can reach.
He is a Surety, that undertook and paid the dreadful debt
of obedience and suffering, which sinners owed to the
divine justice and law : He is a Priest, a great High Priest,
that once offered himself as a sacrifice for sin; and now
dwells in his native heaven, at his Father's right hand, as
the Advocate and Intercessor of his people : He is a
Prophet, who teaches his church, in all ages, by his word
and spirit: He is the supreme and universal Judge, to
whom men and angels are accountable; and his name is
Jesus, a Saviour, because he saves his people from their
sins. Under these august and endearing characters he is

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290 THE MEDIATORIAL KIXGDOM AND

often represented. But there is one character under
•which he is uniformly represented, both in the Old and
New Testament, and that is, that of a King, a great King,
invested with universal authority. And upon his appear-
ance in the flesh, all nature, and especially the gospel-
church, is represented as placed under him, as his king-
dom. Under this idea the Jews were taught by their
prophets to look for him ; and it was their understanding
these predictions of some illustrious king that should rise
from the house of David, in a literal and carnal sense, that
occasioned their unhappy prejudices concerning the Mes-
siah as a secular prince and conqueror. Under this idea
the Lord Jesus represented himself while upon earth, and
under this idea he was published to the world by his
apostles. The greatest kings of the Jewish nation, par-
ticularly David and Solomon, were types of him: and
many things are primarily applied to them, which have
their complete and final accomplishment in him alone. It
is to him ultimately we are to apply the second psalm : " I
have set my King," says Jehovah, " upon my holy hill of
Zion. Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for
thine inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for thy
possession:" Psalm ii. 6, 8. If we read the seventy-
second Psalm we shall easily perceive that one greater
than Solomon is there. " In his days shall the righteous
flourish; and abundance of peace so long as the moon en-
dureth. All kings shall fall down before him ; all nations
shall serve him. His name shall continue for ever; his
name shall be continued as long as the sun : and men shall
be blessed in him ; and all nations shall call him blessed :
Psalm Ixxxii. 7, 11, 17.

The hundred and tenth Psalm is throughout a celebra-
tion of the kingly and priestly office of Christ united.
The Lord, says David, said unto my Lord, unto that divine

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 291

person who is my Lord, and will also be my son, Sit thou
at my right hand, in the highest honour and authority,
until I make thine enemies thy footstool. Rule thou in the
midst of thine enemies. Thy people shall be willing in
the day of thy power, and submit to thee in crowds as
numerous as the drops of the morning dew. Ps. ex. 1-3.
The evangelical prophet Isaiah is often transported with
the foresight of this illustrious King, and the glorious king-
dom of his grace : — " Unto us a child is born, unto us a
son is given; and the government shall be upon his
shoulder; and his name shall be called — the Prince of
Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace
there shall be no end, upon the throne of David and upon
his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment
and with justice from henceforth even for ever." Isa. ix.
6, 7. This is he who is described as another David in
Ezekiel's prophecy, "Thus saith the Lord God; Behold,
I will take the children of Israel from among the heathen.
And I will make them one nation — and one king shall be
king to them all, even David my servant shall be king over
them." Ezek. xxxvii. 21, 22, 24. This is the kingdom
represented to Nebuchadnezzar in his dream, as " a stone
cut out without hands, which became a great mountain,
and filled the whole earth." And Daniel, in expounding
the dream, having described the Babylonian, the Persian,
the Grecian, and Roman empires, subjoins, " In the days
of these kings," that is, of the Roman emperors, " shall the
God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be de-
stroyed ; and the kingdom shall not," like the former, " be
left to other people; but it shall break in pieces and con-
sume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand for ever."
Dan. ii. 34, 35, 44. There is no character which our
Lord so often assumed in the days of his flesh as that of
the Son of man; and he no doubt alludes to a majestic

292 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

vision in Daniel, the only place where this character is
given him in the Old Testament : " I saw in the night
visions," says Daniel, " and behold one like the Son of man
came to the Ancient of days, and there was given him
dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, na-
tions, and languages, should serve him; his dominion is an
everlasting dominion, which shall not pass away, and his
kingdom that which shall not be destroyed," Dan. vii. 13,
14, like the tottering kingdoms of the earth, which are
perpetually rising and falling. This is the king that
Zechariah refers to when, in prospect of his triumphant
entrance into Jerusalem, he calls the inhabitants to give a
proper reception to so great a Prince. " Rejoice greatly,

0 daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem:
behold thy king cometh unto thee," &c. Zech. ix. 9.
Thus the prophets conspire to ascribe royal titles and a
glorious kingdom to the Messiah. And these early and
plain notices of him raised a general expectation of him
under this royal character. It was from these prophecies
concerning him as a king, that the Jews took occasion, as

1 observed, to look for the Messiah as a temporal prince;
and it was a long time before the apostles themselves were
delivered from these carnal prejudices. They were solici-
tous about posts of honour in that temporal kingdom which
they expected he would set up: and even after his resur-
rection, they cannot forbear asking him, " Lord, wilt thou
at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel?" Acts i.
6, that is, " Wilt thou now restore the Jews to their former
liberty and independency, and deliver them from their
present subjection to the Romans?" It was under this
view that Herod was alarmed at his birth, and shed the
blood of so many innocents, that he might not escape.
He was afraid of him as the heir of David's family and
crown, who might dispossess him of the government ; nay,

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 293

he was expected by other nations under the character of a
mighty king; and they no doubt learned this notion of him
from the Jewish prophecies, as well as their conversation
with that people. Hence the Magi, or eastern wise men,
when they came to pay homage to him upon his birth, in-
quired after him in this language, — "Where is he that is
born King of the Jews?" Matt. ii. 2. And what is still
more remarkable, we are told by two heathen historians,
that about the time of his appearance a general expectation
of him under this character prevailed through the world.
" Many," says Tacitus, " had a persuasion that it was con-
tained in the ancient writings of the priests, that at that
very time the east should prevail, and that some de-
scendant from Judah should obtain the universal govern-
ment."* Suetonius speaks to the same purpose: "An
old and constant opinion," says he, " commonly prevailed
through all the east, that it was in the fates, that some
should rise out of Judea, who should obtain the govern-
ment of the world." t This royal character Christ him-
self assumed, even when he conversed among mortals in
the humble form of a servant. "The Father," says he,
" hath given me power over all flesh." John xvii. 2. Yea,
" all power in heaven and earth is given to me," Matt,
xxviii. 18. The gospel church which he erected is most
commonly called the kingdom of heaven or of God, in the
evangelists: when he was about to introduce it, this was
the proclamation: "The kingdom of heaven is at hand."

* Pluribus persuasio inerat, antiquis sncerdotum literis contineri, eo ipso
tetnpore fore, ut valesce.ret oriens profectique Judea rerum potirentur.
Tacit. Hist. lib. v. cap. 13.

f Percrebuerat oriente toto vetus & constans opinio, esse in fatis, ut eo
tempore Judca profecti rerum potirentur. Suet, in Vesp. c. 4.

The sameness of the expectation is remarkably evident, from the sameness
of the words in which these two historians express it. Judea profecti rerum
potirentur. It was not only a common expectation, but it was commonly
expressed in the same language.

294 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

Under this character also his servants and disciples cele-
brated and preached him. Gabriel led the song in fore-
telling his birth to his mother. " He shall be great, and
the Lord shall give unto him the throne of his father
David; and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for
ever: and of his kingdom there shall be no end." Luke i.
32, 33. St. Peter boldly tells the murderers of Christ,
" God hath made that same Jesus whom ye have crucified,
both Lord and Christ," Acts ii. 36; "and exalted him,
with his right hand, to be a Prince and a Saviour." Acts
v. 31. And St. Paul repeatedly represents him as ad-
vanced "far above principality, and power, and might, and
dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this
world, but also in that which is to come : and hath put all
things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all
things to his church. Eph. i. 21, 22; Phil. ii. 9-11.
Yea, to him all the hosts of heaven, and even the whole
creation in concert, ascribe "power and strength, and
honour, and glory," Rev. v. 12. Pilate the heathen was .
overruled to give a kind of accidental testimony to this
truth, and to publish it to different nations, by the inscrip-
tion upon the cross in the three languages then most in
use, the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew: "This is Jesus of
Nazareth, King of the Jews;" and all the remonstrances
of the Jews could not prevail upon him to alter it. Finally,
it is he that wears " on his vesture, and on his thigh, this
name written, King of kings, and Lord of lords," Rev. xix.
16; and as his name is, so is he.

Thus you see, my brethren, by these instances, selected
out of many, that the kingly character and dominion of
our Lord Jesus runs through the whole Bible. That of a
king is his favourite character, in which he glories, and ,
which is the most expressive of his office. And this con-
sideration alone may convince you that this character is

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST, f 295

of the greatest importance, and worthy of your most at-
tentive regard.

It is the mediatorial. kingdom of Christ that is here in-
tended, not that which as God he exercises over all the
works of his hand; it is that kingdom which is an empire
of grace, and administration of mercy over our guilty
world. It is the dispensation intended for the salvation
of fallen sinners of our race by the gospel ; and on this
account the gospel is often called the kingdom of heaven ;
because its happy consequences are not confined to this
earth, but appear in heaven in the highest perfection, and
last through all eternity. Hence, not only the Church of
Christ on earth, and the dispensation of the gospel, but all
the saints in heaven, and that more finished economy
under which they are placed, are all included in the king-
dom of Christ. Here his kingdom is in its infancy, but
in heaven is arrived to perfection ; but it is substantially
the same. Though the immediate design of this kingdom
is the salvation of believers of the guilty race of man, and
such are its subjects in a peculiar sense ; yet it extends to
all worlds, to heaven, and earth, and hell. The whole
universe is put under a mediatorial head ; but then, as the
apostle observes, " he is made head over all things to his
church," Eph. i. 22 ; that is, for the benefit and salvation
of his Church. As Mediator he is carrying on a glorious
scheme for the recovery of man, and all parts of the uni-
verse are interested or concern themselves in this grand
event; and therefore they are all subjected to him, that
he may so manage them as to promote this end, and baffle
and overwhelm all opposition. The elect angels rejoice
in so benevolent a design for peopling their mansions, left
vacant by the fall of so many of their fellow-angels, with
colonies transplanted from our world, from a race of crea-
tures that they had given for lost. And therefore Christ

296 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

as a Mediator, is made the head of all the heavenly armies,
and he employs them as " his ministering spirits, to minis-
ter to them that are heirs of salvation." Heb. i. 14.
These glorious creatures are always on the wing, ready to
discharge his orders in any part of his vast empire, and
delight to be employed in the services of his mediatorial
kingdom. This is also an event in which the fallen angels
deeply interest themselves; they have united all their
force and art for near six thousand years to disturb and
subvert his kingdom, and blast the designs of redeeming
love; they therefore are all subjected to the control of
Christ, and he shortens and lengthens their chains as he
pleases, and they cannot go a hair's breadth beyond his
permission. The Scriptures represent our world in its
state of guilt and misery as the kingdom of Satan ; sin-
ners, while slaves to sin, are his subjects; and every act
of disobedience against God is an act of homage to this
infernal prince. Hence Satan is called the God of this
world, 2 Cor. iv. 4; the prince of this world, John xii. 31;
the power of darkness, Luke xxii. 53 ; the prince af the
power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the child-
ren of disobedience. Eph. ii. 3. And sinners are said to
be taken captive by him at his will. 2 Tim. ii. 26. Hence
also the ministers of Christ, who are employed to recover
sinners to a state of holiness and happiness, are repre-
sented as soldiers armed for war ; not indeed with carnal
weapons, but with those which are spiritual, plain truth
arguments, and miracles; and "these are made mighty
through God to the pulling down of strongholds, casting
down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth it-
self against the knowledge of God, and bringing into cap-
tivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." 2 Cor.
x. 3, 4, 5. And Christians in general are represented as
" wrestling, not with flesh and blood, but against princi-

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 297

palities,, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness
of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."
Eph. vi. 12. Hence also in particular it is, that the death
of Christ is represented not as a defeat, but as an illustri-
ous conquest gained over the powers of hell ; because, by
this means, a way was opened for the deliverance of sin-
ners from under their power, and restoring them unto
liberty and the favour of God. By that strange, con-
temptible weapon, the cross, and by the glorious resur-
rection of Jesus, he " spoiled principalities and powers,
and made a show of them openly, triumphing over them."
Col. ii. 15. " Through death," says the apostle, " he de-
stroyed him that had the power of death; that is, the
devil." Heb. ii. 14. Had not Christ by his death offered
a propitiatory sacrifice for the sins of men, they would
have continued for ever under the tyranny of Satan ; but
he has purchased liberty, life, and salvation for them ; and
thus he hath destroyed the kingdom of darkness, and
translated multitudes from it into his own gracious and
glorious kingdom.

Hence, upon the right of redemption, his mediatorial
authority extends to the infernal regions, and he controls
and restrains those malignant, mighty, and turbulent po-
tentates, according to his pleasure. Farther, the inani-
mate world is connected with our Lord's design to save
sinners, and therefore is subjected to him as Mediator.
He causes the sun to rise, the rain to fall, and the earth to
yield her increase, to furnish provision for the subjects of
his grace, and to raise, support, and accommodate heirs
for his heavenly kingdom. As for the sons of men, who
are more immediately concerned in this kingdom, and for
whose sake it was erected, they are all its subjects ; but
then they are of different sorts, according to their charac-
ters. Multitudes are rebels against his government; that
VOL. I.— 38

298 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

is, they do not voluntarily submit to his authority, nor
choose they to do his service : they will not obey his laws.
But they are his subjects notwithstanding; that is, he rules
and manages them as he pleases, whether they will or not.
This power is necessary to carry on successfully his gra-
cious design towards his people ; for unless he had the
management of his enemies, they might baffle his under-
takings, and successfully counteract the purposes of his
love. The kings of the earth, as well as vulgar rebels of
a private character, have often set themselves against his
kingdom, and sometimes they have flattered themselves
they had entirely demolished it.* But Jesus reigns abso-
solute and supreme over the kings of the earth, and over-
rules and controls them as he thinks proper; and he dis-
poses all the revolutions, the rises and falls of kingdoms
and empires, so as to be subservient to the great designs
of his mediation; and their united policies and powers
cannot frustrate the work which he has undertaken. But
besides these rebellious, involuntary subjects, he has (bles-
sed be his name !) gained the consent of thousands, and
they have become his willing subjects by their own choice.
They regard his authority, they love his government, they
make it their study to please him, and to do his will.
Over these he exercises a government of special grace
here, and he will make them the happy subjects of the
kingdom of his glory hereafter. And it is his government
over these that I intend more particularly to consider.
Once more, the kingdom of Jesus is not confined to this
world, but all the millions of mankind in the invisible
world are under his dominion, and will continue so to ever-
lasting ages. He is the Lord of the dead and of the liv-

* In the 10th and last Kotnan persecution, Diodesian had a medal struck
with this inscription, " The Christian name demolished, and the worship
of the gods restored."

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 299

ing, Rom. xiv. 9, and has the keys of Hades, the vast in-
visible world, (including heaven as well as hell) and of
death. Rev. i. 18. It is he that turns the key, and opens
the door of death for mortals to pass from world to world ;
it is he that opens the gates of heaven, and welcomes and
admits the nations that keep the commandments of God;
and it is he that opens the prison of hell, and locks it fast
upon the prisoners of divine justice. He will for ever
exercise authority over the vast regions of the unseen
world, and the unnumbered multitudes of spirits with
which they are peopled. You hence see, my brethren,
the universal extent of the Redeemer's kingdom; and in
this respect how much does it differ from all the kingdoms
of the earth 1 The kingdoms of Great Britain, France,
China, Persia, are but little spots of the globe. Our
world has indeed been oppressed in former times with
what mortals call universal monarchies; such were the
Babylonian, the Persian the Grecian, and especially the
Roman. But in truth, these were so far from being
strictly universal, that a considerable part of the habitable
earth was not so much as known to them. But this is an
empire strictly universal. It extends over land and sea ;
it reaches beyond the planetary worlds, and all the lumina-
ries of heaven; nay, beyond the throne of the most ex-
alted archangels, and downward to the lowest abyss of
hell. An universal empire in the hands of a mortal is a
huge, unwieldy thing ; a heap of confusion ; a burthen to
mankind; and it has always rushed headlong from its
glory, and fallen to pieces by its own weight. But Jesus
is equal to the immense province of an empire strictly
universal ; his hand is able to hold the reins ; and it is the
blessing of our world to be under his administration. He
will turn what appears to us scenes of confusion into per-
fect order, and convince all worlds that he has not taken

300 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

one wrong step in the whole plan of his infinite govern-
ment.

The kingdoms of the world have their laws and ordi-
nances, and so has the kingdom of Christ. Look into
your Bibles, and there you will find the laws of his king-
dom from its first foundation immediately after the fall of
man. The laws of human government are often defective
or unrighteous ; but these are perfect, holy, just, and good.
Human laws are enforced with sanctions : but the rewards
and punishments can only affect our mortal bodies, and
cannot reach beyond the present life : but the sanctions of
these divine laws are eternal, and there shall never be an
end to their execution. Everlasting happiness and ever-
lasting misery, of the most exquisite kind and the highest,
degree, are the rewards and punishments which the im-
mortal King distributes among his immortal subjects ; and
they become his character, and are adapted to their na-
ture.

Human laws extend only to outward actions, but these
laws reach the heart, and the principle of action within.
Not a secret thought, not a motion of the soul, is ex-
empted from them. If the subjects of earthly kings ob-
serve a decorum in their outward conduct, and give no
visible evidence of disloyalty, they are treated as good
subjects, though they should be enemies in their hearts.
" But Jesus is the Lord of souls ;" he makes his subjects
bow their hearts as well as the knee to him. He sweetly
commands their thoughts and affections as well as their
external practice, and makes himself inwardly beloved as
well as outwardly obeyed. His subjects are such on
whom he may depend : they are all ready to lay down
their lives for him. Love, cordial, unfeigned, ardent love,
is the principle of all their obedience : and hence it is, that
his commandments are not grievous, but delightful to them.

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 301

Other kings have their ministers and officers of state.
In like manner Jesus employs the armies of heaven as
ministering spirits in his mediatorial kingdom : besides these
he has ministers, of an humbler form, who negotiate more
immediately in his name with mankind. These are in-
trusted with the ministry of reconciliation, to beseech men,
in his stead, to be reconciled to God. These are ap-
pointed to preach his word, to administer his ordinances,
and to manage the affairs of his kingdom. This view
gives a peculiar dignity and importance to this office.
These should be adorned, not like the ministers of earthly
courts, with the trappings of gold and silver, but with the
beauties of holiness, the ornament of a meek and quiet,
zealous and faithful spirit, and a life becoming the gospel
of Christ.

Other kings have their soldiers : so all the legions of
the elect angels, the armies of heaven, are the soldiers of
Jesus Christ, and under his command. This he asserted
when he was in such defenceless circumstances, that he
seemed to be abandoned by heaven and earth. " I could
pray to my father," says he, " and he would send me more
than twelve legions of angels" Matt. xxvi. 53. I cannot
forbear reading to you one of the most majestic descrip-
tions of this all-conquering hero and his army, which the
language of mortality is capable of. Rev. xix. 11. 16. "I
saw heaven open, says St. John, " and behold a white
horse," an emblem of victory and triumph, "and he that
sat upon him was called Faithful and True." How dif-
ferent a character from that of mortal conquerors ! " And
in righteousness he doth judge and make war." War is
generally a scene of injustice and lawless violence; and
those plagues of mankind, we call heroes and warriors,
use their arms to gratify their own avarice or ambition,
and make encroachments upon others. Jesus, the prince

302 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

of peace, makes war too, but it is in righteousness ; it is
in the cause of righteousness he takes up arms. The
divine description proceeds : " His eyes were as a flame
of fire; and on his head were many crowns," emblems of
his manifold authority over the various kingdoms of the
world, and the various regions of the universe. " And he
was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood," in the blood of
his enemies ; " and his name was called, The -Word of
God; and the armies which were in heaven followed him
upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean :"
the whitest innocence and purity, and the beauties of holi-
ness are, as it were, the uniform, the regimentals of these
celestial armies. " And out of his mouth goeth a sharp
sword, that with it he should smite the nations ; and he
shall rule them with a rod of iron ; and he treadeth the
wine-press of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God ;
and he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written,
KING OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS." In what manner
the war is carried on between the armies of heaven and
the powers of hell, we know not : but that there is really
something of this kind we may infer from Rev. xii. 7, 9.
" There was war in heaven ; Michael and his angels
fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and
his angels, and prevailed not, neither was their place
found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was
cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil and Satan."

Thus you see all the hosts of heaven are volunteers
under the Captain of our salvation. Nay, he marshals
the stars, and calls them by their names. The stars in
their courses, says the sublime Deborah, fought against
Sisera, the enemy of God's people. Judges v. 20. Every
part of the creation serves under him, and he can com-
mission a gnat, or a fly, or the meanest insect, to be
the executioner of his enemies. Fire and water, hurri-

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. N 303

canes and earthquakes; earthquakes, which have so lately
shattered so great a part of our globe, now tottering with
age, and ready to fall to pieces, and bury the inhabitants
in its ruins; all these fight under him, and conspire to
avenge his quarrel with the guilty sons of men. The sub-
jects of his grace in particular are all so many soldiers;
their life is a constant warfare ; and they are incessantly
engaged in hard conflict with temptations from without,
and the insurrection of sin from within. Sometimes, alas !
they fall ; but their General lifts them up again, and inspires
them with strength to renew the fight. They fight most
successfully upon their knees. This is the most advanta-
geous posture for the soldiers of Jesus Christ ; for prayer
brings down recruits from heaven in the hour of difficulty.
They are indeed but poor weaklings and invalids; and yet
they overcome, through the blood of the Lamb; and he
makes them conquerors, yea more than conquerors. It is
the military character of Christians that gives the apostle
occasion to address them in the military style, like a gene-
ral at the head of his army. Eph. vi. 10-18. "Be strong
in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the
whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against
the wiles of the devil. Stand, therefore, having your loins
girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of
righteousness, and your feet shod with the preparation of
the gospel of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith,
wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of
the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying
always with all prayer and supplication." The ministers
of the gospel in particular, and especially the apostles, are
soldiers, or officers, in this spiritual army. Hence St.
Paul speaks of his office in the military style ; / have, says
he, fought a good fight. 2 Tim, iv. 7. We war, says he,

304 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

though it be not after the flesh. The humble doctrines of
the cross are our weapons, and these are mighty through
God, to demolish the strongholds of the prince of darkness,
and to bring every thought into a joyful captivity to the
obedience of faith. 2 Cor. x. 3-5. Fight the good fight,
says he to Timothy. 1 Tim. vi. 12. And again, thou
therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.
2 Tim, ii. 3. The great design of the gospel ministry is
to rescue enslaved souls from the tyranny of sin and Satan,
and to recover them into a state of liberty and loyalty to
Jesus Christ ; or, in the words of the apostle, " to turn
them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan
unto God." Acts xxvi. 18. Mortals indeed, are very un-
equal for the conflict ; but their success more conspicu-
ously shows that the excellency of the power is of God ;"
and many have they subdued, through his strength, to the
obedience of faith, and made the willing captives of the
cross of our divine Immanuel. Other kingdoms are often
founded in blood, and many lives are lost on both sides in
acquiring them. The kingdom of Christ, too, was founded
in blood, but it was the blood of his own heart; life was
lost in the conflict ; but it was his own ; his own life lost,
to purchase life for his people. Others have waded to
empire through the blood of mankind, and even of their
own subjects, but Christ shed only his own blood to spare
that of his soldiers. The general devotes his life as a
sacrifice to save his army. The Fabii and Decii of Rome,
who devoted themselves for their country, were but faint
shadows of this divine bravery. Oh ! the generous patri-
otism, the ardent love of the Captain of our salvation !
How amiable does his character appear, in contrast with
that of the kings of the earth ! They often sacrifice the
lives of their subjects, while they keep themselves out of
danger, or perhaps are rioting at ease in the pleasures and

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 305

luxuries of a court; but Jesus engaged in the conflict with
death and hell alone. He stood a single champion in a
field of blood. He conquered for his people by falling
himself; he subdued his and their enemies by resigning
himself to their power. Worthy is such a general to be
Commander-in-Chief of the hosts of God, and to lead the
armies of heaven and earth ! Indeed much blood has
been shed in carrying on this kingdom. The earth has
been soaked with the blood of the saints; and millions
have resisted even unto blood, striving against sin, and
nobly laid down their lives for the sake of Christ and a
good conscience. Rome has been remarkably the seat of
persecution; both formerly under the heathen emperors,
and in later times, under a succession of Popes, still more
bloody and tyrannical. There were no less than ten
general persecutions under the heathen Emperors, through
the vast Roman empire, in a little more than two hundred
years, which followed one another in a close succession ;
in which innumerable multitudes of Christians lost their
lives by an endless variety of tortures. And since the
church of Rome has usurped her authority, the blood of
the saints has hardly ever ceased running in some country
or other; though, blessed be God, many kingdoms shook
off the yoke at the ever-memorable period of the Refor-
mation, above two hundred years ago : which has greatly
weakened that persecuting power. This is that mystical
Babylon which was represented to St. John as "drunken
with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the mar-
tyrs of Jesus." Rev. xvii. 6. In her was found the blood
of prophets, and of saints, and of all that were slain upon
the earth. Chap, xviii. 24. And these scenes of blood are
still perpetrated in France, that plague of Europe, that has
of late stretched her murderous arm across the wide ocean,
to disturb us in these regions of peace. There the Pro-

VOL. I 39

306 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

testants are still plundered, chained to the galleys, broken
alive on the torturing wheel, denied the poor favour of
abandoning their country and their all, and flying naked
to beg their bread in other nations. Thus the harmless
subjects of the Prince of Peace have ever been slaughtered
from age to age, and yet they are represented as triumph-
ant conquerors. Hear a poor persecuted Paul on this
head : " In tribulation, in distress, in persecution, in naked-
ness, in peril and sword, we are conquerors, we are more
than conquerors through him that loved us." Rom. viii.
36, 37. " Thanks be to God, which always causeth us to
triumph in Christ." 2 Cor. ii. 14. " Whatsoever is born
of God," says the evangelist, " overcometh the world."

1 John v. 4. Whence came that glorious army which we
so often see in the Revelation ? We are told " they came
out of great tribulation." Chap. vii. 14. " And they over-
came by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their
testimony ; and they loved not their lives unto the death."
Chap. xii. 11. They that suffered tortures and death
under the beast, are said to have gotten the victory over
him. Chap, xv., 2. Victory and triumph sound strange
when thus ascribed; — but the gospel helps us to under-
stand this mystery. By these sufferings they obtained the
illustrious crown of martyrdom, and peculiar degrees of
glory and happiness through an endless duration. Their
death was but a short transition from the lowest and more
remote regions of their Redeemer's Kingdom into his im-
mediate presence and glorious court in heaven. A tem-
poral death is rewarded with an immortal life : and " their
light afflictions which were but for a moment, wrought out
for them a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

2 Cor. iv. 17. Even in the agonies of torture, their souls
were often filled with such delightful sensations of the
love of God, as swallowed up the sensations of bodily

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 307

pain ; and a bed of flames was sweeter to them than a bed
of roses. Their souls were beyond the reach of all the
instruments of torment; and as to their bodies, they shall
yet have a glorious resurrection to a blessed immortality.
And now, I leave you to judge, whether they or their ene-
mies got the victory in this conflict; and which had most
cause to triumph. Like their Master, they rose by fall-
ing ; they triumphed over their enemies by submitting, like
lambs, to their power. If the soldiers of other generals
die in the field, it is not in the power of their commanders
to reward them. But the soldiers of Jesus Christ, by
dying, are, as it were, carried in triumph from the field of
blood into the presence of the Master, to receive his ap-
probation, and a glorious crown. Death puts them into a
capacity of receiving and enjoying greater rewards than
they are capable of in the present state. And thus it
appears, that his soldiers always win the day; or, as the
apostle expresses it, he causes them always to triumph;
and not one of them has ever been or ever shall be
defeated, however weak and helpless in himself, and how-
ever terrible the power of his enemies. And oh ! when
all these warriors meet at length from every corner of the
earth, and, as it were, pass in review before their General
in the fields of heaven, with their robes washed in his
blood, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of
glory on their heads, all dressed in uniform with garments
of salvation, what a glorious army will they make ! and
how will they cause heaven to ring with shouts of joy and
triumph !

The founders of earthly kingdoms are famous for their
heroic actions. They have braved the dangers of sea and
land, routed powerful armies, and subjected nations to their
will. They have shed rivers of blood, laid cities in ruins,
and countries in desolation. These are the exploits which

308 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

have rendered the Alexanders, the Csesars, and other con-
querors of this world, famous through all nations and ages.
Jesus had his exploits too; but they were all of the gra-
cious and beneficent kind. His conquests were so many
deliverances, and his victories salvations. He subdued in
order to set free ; and made captives to deliver them from
slavery. He conquered the legions of hell, that seemed
let loose at that time, that he might have opportunity of
displaying his power over them, and that mankind might
be sensible how much they needed a deliverer from their
tyranny. He triumphed over the temptations of Satan in
the wilderness, by a quotation from his own word. He
rescued wretched creatures from his power by an almighty
command. He conquered the most inveterate and stub-
born diseases, and restored health and vigour with a word
of his mouth. He vanquished stubborn souls with the
power of his love, and made them his willing people. He
triumphed over death, the king of terrors, and delivered
Lazarus from the prison of the grave, as an earnest and
first-fruit of a general resurrection. Nay, by his own in-
herent powers he broke the bonds of death, and forced his
way to his native heaven. He destroyed him that had the
power of death, i. e., the devil, by his own death, and laid
the foundation in his own blood for destroying his usurped
kingdom, and forming a glorious kingdom of willing sub-
jects redeemed from his tyranny.

The death of some great conquerors, particularly Ju-
lius Caesar, is said to have been prognosticated or attended
with prodigies : but none equal to those which solemnized
the death of Jesus. The earth trembled, the rocks were
burst to pieces, the vail of the temple was rent, the hea-
vens were clothed in mourning, and the dead started into
life : and no wonder, when the Lord of nature was expir-
ing upon a cross. He subdued and calmed the stormy

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 309

wind, and the boisterous waves of the sea. In short, he
showed an absolute sovereignty over universal nature, and
managed the most unruly elements with a single word.
Other conquerors have gone from country to country, car-
rying desolation along with them ; Jesus went about doing
good. His miraculous powers were but powers of mira-
culous mercy and beneficence. He could easily have ad-
vanced himself to a temporal kingdom, and routed all the
forces of the earth; but he had no ambition of this kind.
He that raised Lazarus from the grave could easily restore
his soldiers to vigour and life, after they had been wounded
or killed. He that fed five thousand with five loaves and
two fishes, could have supported his army with plenty of
provision in the greatest scarcity. He that walked upon the
boisterous ocean and enabled Peter to do the same, could
easily have transported his forces from country to country,
without the conveyance of ships. Nay, he was capable by
his own single power to have gained universal conquest.
What could all the armies of the earth have done against
Him, who struck an armed company down to the earth
with only a word of his mouth? But these were not the
victories he affected ; Victories of grace, deliverances for
the oppressed, salvation for the lost ; these were his heroic
actions. He glories in his being mighty to save. Isa.
Ixiii. 1. When his warm disciples made a motion that he
should employ his miraculous powers to punish the Sama-
ritans who ungratefully refused him entertainment, he re-
buked them, and answered like the Prince of Peace, The
son of Man is not come to destroy men's fives, but to save.
Luke ix. 56. He come to seek and to save that which was
lost. Luke xix. 10. Oh how amiable a character this !
How much more lovely the Saviour of sinners, the De-
liverer of souls, than the enslavers and destroyers of man-
kind ; which is the general character of the renowned he-

310 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

roes of our world. Who has ever performed such truly
heroic and brave actions as this almighty conqueror ! He
has pardoned the most aggravated crimes, in a consistency
with the honours of the divine government : he has de-
livered an innumerable multitude of immortal souls from
the tyranny of sin and the powers of hell, set the prisoners
free, and brought them into the liberty of the Son of God ;
he has peopled heaven with redeemed slaves, and advanced
them to royal dignity. " All his subjects are kings."
Rev. i. 6. " To him that overcometh," says he, " will I
grant to set with me in my throne, even as I also overcame,
and am sit down with my Father in his throne," Rev. iii.
21. They shall be adorned with royal robes and crowns
of unfading glory. They are advanced to empire over
their lusts and passions, and all their enemies. Who ever
gave such encouragement to his soldiers as this, If we
suffer with him, we shall also reign with him ? 2 Tim. ii.
12. What mortal general could bestow immortality and
perfect happiness upon his favourites? But these bound-
less blessings Jesus has to bestow. In human govern-
ments merit is often neglected, and those who serve their
country best, are often rewarded with degradation. But
none have ever served the King of kings in vain. The
least good action, even the giving a cup of water to one
of his necessitous saints, shall not pass unrewarded in his
government.

Other kings have their arms, their swords, their cannon,
and other instruments of destruction ; and with these they
acquire and defend their dominions. Jesus, our king, has
his arms too ; but oh ! of how different a kind ! The
force of evidence and conviction in his doctrine, attested
with miracles, the energy of his dying love, the gentle, and
yet efficacious influence of his holy Spirit ; these are the
weapons with which he conquered the world. His gospel

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 311

is the great magazine from whence his apostles, the first
founders of his kingdom, drew their arms ; and with these
they subdued the nations to the obedience of faith. " The
gospel," says St. Paul, " is the power of God unto salva-
tion." Rom. i. 16. The humble doctrines of the cross be-
came almighty and, bore down all before them, and after

O v '

a time subdued the vast Roman empire which had subdued
the world. The holy Spirit gave edge and force to these
weapons ; and, blessed be God, though they are quite im-
potent without his assistance, yet when he concurs they
are still successful. Many stubborn sinners have been un-
able to resist the preaching of Christ crucified : they have
found him indeed the power of God. And is it not as-
tonishing, that any one should be able to stand it out
against his dying love, and continue the enemy of his
cross ? " I," says he, " if I be lifted up from the earth,"
i. e., if I be suspended on the cross, " will draw all men
unto me." John xii. 32. You see he expected his cross
would be an irresistible weapon. And oh ! blessed Jesus,
who can see thee expiring there in agonies of torture and
love; who can see thy blood gushing in streams from
every vein ; who can hear thee there, and not melt into
submission at thy feet ! Is there one heart in this assem-
bly proof against the energy of this bleeding, agonizing,
dying love 1 Methinks such a sight must kindle a cor-
respondent affection in your hearts towards him, and it is
an exploit of wickedness, it is the last desperate effort of
an impenetrable heart, to be able to resist.

Other conquerors march at the head of their troops,
with all the ensigns of power and grandeur, and their
forces numerous, inured to war, and well armed ; and from
such appearances and preparations, who is there but what
expects victory? But see the despised Nazarene, without
riches, without arms, without forces, conflicting with the

312 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

united powers of earth and hell ; or see a company of poor
fishermen and a tent-maker, with no other powers but
those of doing good, with no other arms but those of rea-
son, and the strange, unpopular doctrines of a crucified
Christ ! see the professed followers of a Master that was
hung like a malefactor and a slave, see these men march-
ing out to encounter the powers of darkness, the whole
strength of the Roman empire, the lusts, prejudices, and
interests of all nations, and travelling from country to coun-
try, without guards, without friends, exposed to insult and
contempt, to the rage of persecution, to all manner of
torture and tormented deaths which earth or hell could
invent : see this little army marching into the wide world,
in these circumstances, and can you expect they will
have any success? Does this appear a promising expe-
dition 1 No : human reason would forebode they will
soon be cut in pieces, and the Christian cause buried with
them. But these unpromising champions, with the aid of
the Holy Spirit, conquered the world, and spread the reli-
gion of the crucified Jesus among all nations. It is true
they lost their lives in the cause, like brave soldiers ; but
the cause did not die with them. Their blood proved
the seed of the church. Their cause is immortal and in-
vincible. Let devils in hell, let Heathens, Jews, and Ma-
hometans, let Atheists, Freethinkers, Papists, and persecu-
tors of every character do their worst ; still this cause will
live in spite of them. All the enemies of Christ will be
obliged to confess at last, with Julian the apostate Roman
emperor, who exerted all his art to abolish Christianity ;
but when mortally wounded in battle, outrageously sprin-
kled his blood towards heaven, and cried out, Vicisti, 0
Galil&e ! " Thou hast conquered, O Galilean !" Yes,
my brethren, Jesus, the Prophet of Galilee, will push his
conquest from country to country, until all nations submit

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 313

to him. And, blessed be his name, his victorious arm has
reached to us in these ends of the earth : here he has sub-
dued some obstinate rebels, and made their reluctant souls
willingly bow in affectionate homage to him. And may I
not produce some of you as the trophies of his victory?
Has he not rooted out the enmity of your carnal minds,
and sweetly constrained you to the most affectionate obe-
dience ? Thus, blessed Jesus ! thus go on conquering and
to conquer. Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, 0 most
mighty ! and in thy glory and majesty ride prosperously
through our land, and make this country a dutiful province
of the dominion of thy grace. My brethren, should we
all become his willing subjects, he would no longer suffer
the perfidious slaves of France, and their savage allies, to
chastise and punish us for our rebellion against him ; but
peace should again run down like a river, and righteous-
ness like a mighty stream.

The kingdoms of the world have their rise, their pro-
gress, perfection, declension, and ruin. And in these
things, the kingdom of Christ bears some resemblance to
them, excepting that it shall never have an end.

Its rise was small at first, and it has passed through
many revolutions in various ages. It was first founded in
the family of Adam, but in about 1,600 years, the space
between the creation and the flood, it was almost demol-
ished by the wickedness of the world ; and at length con-
fined to the little family of Noah. After the flood, the
world soon fell into idolatry, but, that this kingdom of
Christ might not be destroyed quite, it was erected in the
family of Abraham ; and among the Jews it continued
until the coming of Christ in the flesh. This was indeed
but the infancy of his kingdom, and indeed is seldom
called by that name. It is the gospel constitution that is
represented as the kingdom of Christ, in a special sense.

VOL. I.— 40

314 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

This was but very small and unpromising at first. When
its founder was dying upon Calvary, and all his followers
had forsaken him and fled, who would have thought it
would ever have come to any thing, ever have recovered ?
But it revived with him ; and when he furnished his apos-
tles with gifts and graces for their mission, and sent them
forth to increase his kingdom, it made its progress through
the world with amazing rapidity, notwithstanding it met
with very early and powerful opposition. The Jews set
themselves against it, and raised persecutions against its
ministers, wherever they went. And presently the tyrant
Nero employed all the power of the Roman empire to
crush them. Peter, Paul, and thousands of the Christians
fell a prey to his rage, like sheep for the slaughter. This
persecution was continued under his successors with but
little interruption, for about two hundred years.

But under all these pressures, the church bore up her
head; yea, the more she was trodden, the more she
spread and flourished ; and at length she was delivered
from oppression by Constantine the Great, about the year
420. But now she had a more dangerous enemy to en-
counter, I mean prosperity; and this did her much more
injury than all the persecutions of her enemies. Now the
kingdom of Christ began to be corrupted with heresies ;
the ministry of the gospel, formerly the most dangerous
post in the world, now became a place of honour and
profit, and men began to thrust themselves into it from
principles of avarice and ambition ; superstition and cor-
ruption of morals increased ; and at length the Bishop of
Rome set up for universal head of the church in the year
606 ; and gradually the whole monstrous system of popery
was formed and established, and continued in force for
near a thousand years. The kingdom of Christ was now
at a low ebb ; and tyranny and superstition reigned under

GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 315

that name over the greatest part of the Christian world.
Nevertheless, our Lord still had his witnesses. The Wal-
denses and Albigenses, John Huss, and Jerome of Prague,
and Wickliffe in England, opposed the torrent of corrup-
tion; until at length, Luther, Calvin, Zuinglius, and
several others, were made the honoured instruments
of introducing the Reformation from popery; when sun-
dry whole kingdoms, which had given their power to
the beast, and particularly our mother-country, shook off
the papal authority, and admitted the pure light of the gos-
pel. Since that time the kingdom of Christ has struggled
hard, and it has lost ground in several countries ; particu-
larly in France, Poland, Bohemia, &c., where there once
were many Protestant churches; but they are now in
ruins. And, alas ! those countries that still retain the re-
formed religion, have too generally reduced it into a mere
formality : and it has but little influence upon the hearts
and lives even of its professors. Thus we find the case
remarkable among us. This gracious kingdom makes but
little way in Virginia. The calamities of war and famine
cannot, alas! draw subjects to it; but we seem generally
determined to perish in our rebellion rather than submit.
Thus it has been in this country from its first settlement ;
and how long it will continue in this situation is unknown
to mortals : however, this we may know, it will not be
so always. We have the strongest assurances that Jesus
will yet take to him his strong power, and reign in a more
extensive and illustrious manner than he has ever yet
done; and that the kingdoms of the earth shall yet be-
come the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ.
There are various parts of the heathen world where the
gospel has never yet been ; and the Jews have never yet
been converted as a nation ; but both the calling of the
Jews and the fulness of the Gentiles, you will find plainly

316 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND

foretold in the llth chapter of the Romans; and it is, no
doubt, to render the accomplishment of this event the
more conspicuous, that the Jews, who are dispersed all
over the world, have, by a strange, unprecedented, and
singular providence, been kept a distinct people to this
day, for 1,700 years; though all other nations have been
so mixed and blended togther, who were not half so much
dispersed into different countries, that their distinct origi-
nal cannot be traced. Posterity shall see this glorious
event in some happy future period. How far it is from
us I will not determine ; though, upon some grounds, I ap-
prehend it is not very remote. I shall live and die in the
unshaken belief that our guilty world shall yet see glori-
ous days. Yes, my brethren, this despised gospel, that
has so little effect in our age and country, shall yet shine
like lightning, or like the sun, through all the dark regions
of the earth. It shall triumph over Heathenism, Mahom-
etanism, Judaism, Popery, and all those dangerous errors
that have infected the Christian church. This gospel,
poor negroes, shall yet reach your countrymen, whom you
left behind you in Africa, in darkness and the shadow of
death, and bless your eyes with the light of salvation : and
the Indian savages, that are now ravaging our country,
shall yet be transformed into lambs and doves by the gos-
pel of peace. The scheme of Providence is not yet com-
pleted, and much remains to be accomplished of what God
has spoken by his prophets, to ripen the world for the uni-
versal judgment; but when all these things are finished,
then proclamation shall be made throughout all nature,
" That time shall be no more :" then the Supreme Judge,
the same Jesus that ascended the cross, will ascend the
throne, and review the affairs of time : then will he put an
end to the present course of nature, and the present form
of administration. Then shall heaven and hell be filled

GLORIES GF JESUS CHRIST. 317

with their respective inhabitants : then will time close, and
eternity run on in one uniform tenor, without end. But
the kingdom of Christ, though altered in its situation and
form of government, will not then come to a conclusion.
His kingdom is strictly the kingdom of heaven ; and at the
end of this world, his subjects will only be removed from
these lower regions into a more glorious country, where
they and their King shall live together for ever in the most
endearing intimacy ; where the noise and commotions of
this restless world, the revolutions and perturbations of
kingdoms, the terrors of war and persecution, shall no
more reach them ; but all will be perfect peace, love, and
happiness, through immeasurable duration. This is the
last and most illustrious state of the kingdom of Christ,
now so small and weak in appearance : this is the final
grand result of his administration : and it will appear to
admiring worlds wisely planned, gloriously executed, and
perfectly finished.

What conqueror ever erected such a kingdom ? What
subjects so completely, so lastingly happy, as those of the
blessed Jesus ?

318 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

SERMON XL

THINGS UNSEEN TO BE PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN.

2 Cor. iv. 18.— While we look not at the things which are
seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the
things which are seen are temporal: but the things which
are not seen are eternal.

AMONG all the causes of the stupid unconcernedness of
sinners about religion, and the feeble endeavours of saints
to improve in it, there is none more common or more ef-
fectual, than their not forming a due estimate of the things
of time, in comparison of those of eternity. Our present
affairs engross all our thoughts, and exhaust all our ac-
tivity, though they are but transitory trifles; while the
awful realities of the future world are hid from our eyes
by the veil of flesh and the clouds of ignorance. Did these
break in upon our minds in all their almighty evidence
and tremendous importance, they would annihilate the
most majestic vanities of the present state, obscure the
glare of earthly glory, render all its pleasures insipid, and
give us a noble sensibility under all its sorrows. A
realizing view of these would shock the libertine in his
thoughtless career, tear off the hypocrite's mask, and in-
flame the devotion of the languishing saints. The concern
of mankind would then be how they might make a safe
exit out of this world, and not how they may live happy
in it. Present pleasure and pain would be swallowed up
in the prospect of everlasting happiness or misery hereafter.

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 319

Eternity, awful eternity, would then be our serious con-
templation. The pleasures of sin would strike us with
horror, if they issue in eternal pain, and our present af-
flictions, however tedious and severe, would appear but
light and momentary, if they work out for us a far more
exceeding and eternal weight of glory.

These were the views the apostle had of things, and
these their effects upon him. He informs us in this
chapter of his unwearied zeal to propagate the gospel
amidst all the hardships and dangers that attend the painful
discharge of his ministry. Though he bore about in his
body the dying of the Lord Jesus, though he was always
delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, yet he fainted not ;
and this was the prospect that animated him, that his " light
affliction, which was but for a moment, would work out
for him a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."
When we view his sufferings absolutely, without any
reference to eternity, they were very heavy and of many
years' continuance; and when he represents them in this
view, how moving is the relation ! see 2 Cor. xi. 23—29.
But when he views them in the light of eternity, and com-
pared with their glorious issues, they sink into nothing;
then scourging, stoning, imprisonment, and all the various
deaths to which he was daily exposed, are but light, trifling
afflictions, hardly worth naming; then a series of unin-
terrupted sufferings for many years are but afflictions that
endure for a moment. And when he views a glorious
futurity, human language cannot express the ideas he has
of the happiness reserved for him; it is "a far more ex-
ceeding and eternal weight of glory;" a noble sentiment!
and expressed in the sublimest manner the language of
mortals can admit of.

It is glory, in opposition to affliction; a weight of glory,
in opposition to light affliction ; a massy, oppressive blessed-

320 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

ness, which it requires all the powers of the soul, in their
full exertion, to support : and in opposition to affliction for
a moment, it is eternal glory : to finish all, it is a far more
exceeding glory.* What greater idea can be grasped by
the human mind, or expressed in the feeble language of
mortality ! Nothing but feeling that weight of glory could
enlarge his conception: and nothing but the dialect of
heaven could better express it. No wonder that, with this
. view of things, " he should reckon that the sufferings of
the present life are not worthy to be compared with the
glory that shall be revealed." Rom. viii. 18.

The apostle observes, that he formed this estimate of
things, while he looked not at the "things which are seen,
but at those which are not seen." By the things that are
seen, are meant the present life, and all the things of time ;
all the pleasures and pains, all the labours, pursuits, and
amusements of the present state. By the things that are
not seen, are intended all the invisible realities of the
eternal world; all the beings, the enjoyments and suffer-
ings that lie beyond the reach of human sight; as the great
Father of spirits, the joys of paradise, and the punishment
of hell. We look on these invisible things, and not on
those that are seen. This seems like a contradiction ; but
is it easily solved by understanding this act, described by
looking, to be the act not of the bodily eye, but of faith
and enlightened reason. Faith is defined by this apostle
to be "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence
of things not seen." Heb. xi. 1. And it is the apostle's
chief design in that chapter, to give instances of the sur-
prising efficacy of such a realizing belief of eternal, invisible
things; see particularly ver. 10, 13, 14, 16, 25, 26, 27.

* The original far surpasses the best translation. The adjective absolute

[TO i\a(j>p6i> rrjs 0Au//£<oj] is Very Significant ; and naff •Inrepflo'Miv e"{ urrtp/JoAiji/ is in
imitable in any language.

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 321

Hence to look not at visible, but at invisible things, signi-
fies that the apostle made the latter the chief objects of his
contemplations, that he was governed in the whole of his
conduct by the impression of eternal things, and not by
the present; that he formed his maxims and schemes from
a comprehensive survey of futurities, and not from a partial
view of things present; and, in short, that he had acted as
an expectant of eternity, and not as an everlasting in-
habitant of this wretched world. This he elsewhere ex-
presses in equivalent terms, " We walk by faith, and not by
sight." 2 Cor. v. 7.

Further, he assigns a reason why he had a greater re-
gard to invisible things than visible in the regulating of his
conduct; "for the things which are seen, are temporal,
but the things which are not seen," says he, " are eternal."
An important reason indeed! Eternity annexed to a
trifle would advance it into infinite importance, but when
it is the attribute of the most perfect happiness, or of the
most exquisite misery, then it transcends all comparison:
then all temporal happiness and misery, however great and
long-continued, shrink into nothing, are drowned and lost,
like the small drop of a bucket in the boundless ocean.

My present design, and the contents of the text, pre-
scribe to me the following method :

I. I shall give you a comparative view of visible and
invisible things, that you may see the trifling nature of
the one, and the importance of the other. This I choose
to do under one head, because by placing these two
classes of things in an immediate opposition, we may the
more easily compare them, and see their infinite disparity.
And,

II. I shall show you the great and happy influence a
suitable impression of the superior importance of invisible
to visible things would have upon us.

VOL. I.— 41

322 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

J. I shall give you a comparative view of visible and
invisible things; and we may compare visible and in-
visible things, as to their intrinsic value, and as to their du-
ration.

1. As to their intrinsic value, and in this respect the
disparity is inconceivable.

This I shall illustrate in the two comprehensive in-
stances of pleasure and pain. To shun the one, and obtain
the other, is the natural effort of the human mind. This
is its aim in all its endeavours and pursuits. The innate
desire of happiness and aversion to misery are the two
great springs of all human activity: and, were these
springs relaxed or broken, all business would cease, all
activity would stagnate, and universal torpor would seize
the world. And these principles are co-existent with the
soul itself, and will continue in full vigour in a future state.
Nay, as the soul will then be matured, and all its powers
arrived to their complete perfection, this eagerness after
happiness, and aversion to misery, will be also more quick
and vigorous. The soul in its present state of infancy,
like a young child, or a man enfeebled and stupified by
sickness, is incapable of very deep sensations of pleasure
and pain ; and hence an excess of joy, as well as sorrow,
has sometimes dissolved its feeble union with the body.
On this account we are incapable of such degrees of hap-
piness or misery from the things of this world as beings
of more lively sensations might receive from them ; and
much more are we incapable of the happiness or misery
of the future world, until we have put on immortality.
We cannot see God and live. Should the glory of
heaven blaze upon us in all its insuperable splendour, it
would overwhelm our feeble nature ; we could not support
such a weight of glory. And one twinge of the agonies
of hell would dislodge the soul from its earthly mansion :

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 323

one pang would convulse and stupify it, were not its
powers strengthened by the separation from the body.
But in the future world all the powers of the soul will be
mature and strong, and the body will be clothed with im-
mortality; the union between them after the resurrection
will be inseparable, and able to support the most oppres-
sive weight of glory, or the most intolerable load of
torment. Hence it follows that pleasure and pain include
all that we can desire or fear in the present or future
world; and therefore a comparative view of present and
future pleasure and pain is sufficient to enable us to form
a due estimate of visible and invisible things. By present
pleasure I mean all the happiness we can receive from
present things, as 1'rom riches, honours, sensual gratifica-
tions, learning, and intellectual improvements, and all the
amusements and exercises of this life. And by future
pleasure, or the pleasure which results from invisible
things, I mean all the fruitions and enjoyments in which
heavenly happiness consists. By present pain, I intend
all the uneasiness which we can receive from the things
of the present life; as poverty, losses, disappointments,
bereavements, sickness, and bodily pains. And by future
pain, I mean all the punishments of hell; as banishment
from God, and a privation of all created blessings, the
agonizing reflections of a guilty conscience, the horrid
company and exprobations of infernal ghosts, and the
torture of infernal flames.

Now let us put these in the balance, and the one will
sink into nothing, and the other rise into infinite import-
ance.

Temporal things are of a contracted nature, and not
adequate to the capacities of the human soul ; but eternal
things are great, and capable of communicating all the
happiness and misery which it can receive. The soul in

324 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

its present state is not capable of such degrees of happi-
ness and misery as it will be in the future, when it dwells
among invisible realities. All that pleasure and pain
which we receive from things that are seen, are intermin-
gled with some ingredients of a contrary nature ; but those
proceeding from things that are not seen, are pure and un-
mingled.

1. Visible things are not equal to the capacities of the
human soul. This little spark of being, the soul, which
lies obscured in this prison of flesh, gives frequent dis-
coveries of surprising powers; its desires in particular,
have a kind of infinity. But all temporary objects are
mean and contracted ; they cannot afford it a happiness
equal to its capacity, nor render it as miserable as its
capacity of suffering will bear. Hence, in the greatest
affluence of temporal enjoyments, in the midst of honours,
pleasures, riches, friends, &c., it still feels a painful void
within, and finds an unknown something wanting to com-
plete its happiness. Kings have been unhappy upon their
thrones, and all their grandeur has been but majestic
misery. So Solomon found it, who had opportunity and
curiosity to make the experiment; and this is his verdict
upon all earthly enjoyments, after the most impartial trial :
" Vanity of vanities," saith the Preacher, " vanity of vani-
ties ; all is vanity and vexation of spirit." On the other
hand, the soul may possess some degree of happiness,
under all the miseries it is capable of suffering from ex-
ternal and temporal things. Guilt indeed denies it this
support ; but if there be no intestine broils, no anguish re-
sulting from its own reflections, not all the visible things
can render it perfectly miserable ; its capacity of suffering
is not put to its utmost stretch. This has been attested
by the experience of multitudes who have suffered for
righteousness' sake. But oh, when we take a survey of

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 3-25

invisible things, we find them all great and majestic, not
only equal but infinitely superior to the most enlarged
powers of the human and even of the angelic nature. In
the eternal world the great Invisible dwells, and there he
acts with his own immediate hand. It is he that immedi-
ately communicates happiness through the heavenly re-
gions; and it is his immediate breath that, like a stream
of brimstone, kindles the flames of hell; whereas, in the
present world, he rarely communicates happiness, and in-
flicts punishment, but by the instrumentality of creatures ;
and it is impossible the extremes of either should be com-
municated through this channel. This the infinite God
alone can do, and, though in the future world he will use
his creatures to heighten the happiness or misery of each
other, yet he will have a more immediate agency in them
himself. He will communicate happiness immediately
from himself, the infinite fountain of it, into the vessels of
mercy; and he will immediately show his wrath, and make
his power known upon the vessels of wrath. I may add,
that those creatures, angels and devils, which will be the
instruments of happiness or misery to the human soul in
the invisible world, are incomparably more powerful than
any in this, and consequently capable of contributing more
to our pleasure or pain. And let me also observe, that
all the objects about which our faculties will be employed
then, will be great and majestic ; whereas, at present, we
grovel among little sordid things. The objects of our
contemplation will then be either the unveiled glories of
the divine nature, and the naked wonders of creation, pro-
vidence, and redemption ; or the terrors of divine justice,
the dreadful nature and aggravations of our sin, the hor-
rors of everlasting punishment, &c. And since this is the
case, how little should we regard the things that are seen,
in comparison of them that are not seen ? But though

326 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

visible things were adequate to our present capacities, yet
they are not to be compared with the things that are not
seen; because,

2. The soul is at present in a state of infancy, and in-
capable of such degrees of pleasure or pain as it can bear
in the future world. The enjoyments of this life are like
the playthings of children; and none but childish souls
would trifle with them, or fret and vex themselves or one
another about them ; but the invisible realities before us
are manly and great, and such as an adult soul ought to
concern itself with. The soul in another world can no
more be happy or miserable from such toys, than men can
be happy or wretched in the possession or loss of the
baubles of children ; it will then demand great things to
give it pleasure or pain. The apostle illustrates this mat-
ter in this manner: 1 Cor. xiii. 9, 10, 11. How foolish
is it then to be chiefly governed by these puerilities, while
we neglect the manly concern of eternity, that can make
our souls perfectly happy or miserable, when their powers
are come to perfection !

3. And lastly, All the happiness and misery of the pre-
sent state, resulting from things that are seen, are inter-
mingled with contrary ingredients. We are never so
happy in this world as to have no uneasiness ; in the great-
est affluence we languish for want of some absent good,
or grieve under some incumbent evil. On the other hand,
we are never so miserable as to have no ingredient of
happiness. When we labour under a thousand calamities,
we may still see ourselves surrounded with, perhaps, an
equal number of blessings. And where is there a wretch
so miserable as to endure simple, unmingled misery, with-
out one comfortable ingredient? But in the invisible
world there is an eternal separation made between good
and evil, pleasure and pain ; and they shall never mingle

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 327

more. In heaven, the rivers of pleasure flow untroubled
with a drop of sorrow; in hell, there is not a drop of
water to mitigate the fury of the flame. And who then
would not prefer the things that are not seen to those that
are seen? Especially if we consider,

4. The infinite disparity between them as to duration.
This is the difference particularly intended in the text ; the
things that are seen are temporal ; but the things that are
not seen are eternal.

The transitoriness of visible things implies, both that the
things themselves are perishable, and they may soon leave
us ; and that our residence among them is temporary, and
we must soon leave them.

And the eternity of invisible things implies quite the
contrary, that the things themselves are of endless dura-
tion ; and that we shall always exist to receive happiness
or misery from them.

Before we illustrate these instances of disparity, let us
take a view of time and eternity in themselves, and as
compared to one another.

Time is the duration of creatures in the present state. It
commenced at the creation, and near six thousand years of
it are since elapsed; and how much of it yet remains we
know not. But this we know, that the duration of the
world itself is as nothing in comparison of eternity. But
what is our duration compared with the duration even of
this world? It is but a span, a hair's-breadth ; sixty,
seventy, or eighty years, is generally the highest standard
of human life, and it is by far the smallest number of man-
kind that arrives to these periods. The most of them die
like a flower blasted in the morning, or at noon ; and we
have more reason to expect it will be our fate than to
hope the contrary. Now the span of time we enjoy in
life is all our time ; we have no more property in the rest

328 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

of it than in the years before the flood. All beside is
eternity. " Eternity !" We are alarmed at the sound !
Lost in the prospect ! Eternity with respect to God, is a
duration without beginning as well as without end. Eter-
nity, as it is the attribute of human nature, is a duration
that had a beginning but shall never have an end. This
is inalienably entailed upon us poor, dying worms : and let
us survey our inheritance. Eternity ! it is a duration that
excludes all number and computation ; days, and months,
and years, yea, and ages, are lost in it, like drops in the
ocean. Millions of millions of years, as many years as
there are sands on the sea-shore, or particles of dust in
the globe of the earth, and these multiplied to the highest
reach of number, all these are nothing to eternity. They
do not bear the least imaginable proportion to it ; for these
will come to an end, as certain as day ; but eternity will
never, never come to an end. It is a line without end ;
it is an ocean without a shore. Alas ! what shall I
say of it! It is an infinite, unknown something, that
neither human thought can grasp, nor human language
describe.

Now place time in comparison with eternity, and what
is it? It shrinks into nothing, and less than nothing.
What then is that little span of time in which we have
any property 1 Alas ! it is too diminutive a point to be
conceived. Indeed, properly speaking, we can call no
part of time our own but the present moment, this fleeting
now: future time is uncertain, and we may never enjoy it;
the breath we now respire may be our last ; and as to our
past time, it is gone, and will never be ours again. Our
past days are dead and buried, though perhaps guilt, their
ghost, may haunt us still. And what is a moment to eter-
nity ? The disparity is too great to admit of comparison.

Let me now resume the former particulars, implied

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 329

in the transitoriness of visible and the eternity of invisible
tilings.

Visible things are perishable and may soon leave us.
When we think they are ours, they often fly from our
embrace. Riches may vanish into smoke and ashes by
an accidental fire. We may be thrown down from the
pinnacle of honour, and sink the lower into disgrace.
Sensual pleasures often end in satiety and disgust, or in
sickness and death. Our friends are torn from our bleed-
ing hearts by the inexorable hand of death. Our liberty
and property may be wrested from us by the hand of
tyranny, oppression, or fraud. In a word, what do we
enjoy but we may lose ? On the other hand, our miseries
here are temporary; the heart receives many a wound,
but it heals again. Poverty may end in riches ; a clouded
character may clear up, and from disgrace we may rise to
honour ; we may recover from sickness ; and if we lose one
comfort, we may obtain another. But in eternity every
thing is everlasting and unchangeable. Happiness and
misery are both of them without end ; and the subjects of
both well know that this is the case. It is this perpetuity
that finishes the happiness of the inhabitants of heaven ;
the least suspicion of an end would intermingle itself with
all their enjoyments, and embitter them : and the greater
the happiness, the greater the anxiety at the expectation
of losing it. But oh, how transporting for the saints on
high to look forward through the succession of eternal
ages, with an assurance that they shall be happy through
them all, and that they shall feel no change but from glory to
glory ! On the other hand, this is the bitterest ingredient
in the cup of divine displeasure in the future state, that the
misery is eternal. Oh, with what horror does that des-
pairing cry, For ever, for ever, for ever ! echo through the
vaults of hell 1 Eternity is such an important attribute, that

VOL. I.— 42.

330 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

it gives infinite weight to things that would be insignificant,
were they temporary. A small degree of happiness, if it
be eternal, exceeds the greatest degree that is transitory ;
and a small degree of misery that is everlasting, is of
greater importance than the greatest degree that soon
comes to an end. Would you rather endure the most
painful tortures that nature can bear for a moment, than
an eternal toothache or headache ? Again, should we con-
sider all the ingredients and causes of future happiness and
misery, we should find them all everlasting. The blessed
God is an inexhaustible, perennial fountain of bliss; his
image can never be erased from the hearts of glorified
spirits; the great contemplation will always be obvious
to them ; and they will always exist as the partakers and
promoters of mutual bliss. On the other hand, in hell the
worm of conscience dieth not, and the fire is not quenched ;
divine justice is immortal; malignant spirits will always
exist as mutual tormentors, and their wicked habits will
never be extirpated.

And now, need I offer any thing farther to convince
you of the superior importance of invisible and eternal to
visible and temporary things ? Can a rational creature be
at a loss to choose in so plain a case ? Can you need any
arguments to convince you that an eternity of the most
perfect happiness is rather to be chosen than a few years
of sordid, unsatisfying delight ? Or that the former should
not be forfeited for the sake of the latter ? Have you any
remaining scruples, whether the little anxieties and morti-
fications of a pious life are more intolerable than everlast-
ing punishment 1 Oh ! it is a plain case : what then mean
an infatuated world, who lay out all their concern on tem-
poral things, and neglect the important affairs of eternity ?
Let us illustrate this matter by supposition. Suppose a
bird were to pick up and carry away a grain of sand or

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 331

dust from the globe of this earth once in a thousand years,
till it should be at length wholly carried away ; the dura-
tion which this would take up appears a kind of eternity
to us. Now suppose it were put to our choice, either to
be happy during this time, and miserable ever after, or to
be miserable during this time, and happy ever after, which
would you choose ? Why, though this duration seems
endless, yet he would be a fool that would not make the
latter choice ; for, oh, oh ! behind this vast duration, there
lies an eternity, which exceeds it infinitely more than this
duration exceeds a moment. But we have no such seem-
ingly puzzling choice as this ; the matter with us stands
thus — Will you choose the little sordid pleasures of sin
that may perhaps not last an hour, at most, not many
years, rather than everlasting pleasure of the sublimest
kind? Will you rather endure intolerable torment for
ever, than painfully endeavour to be holy ? What does
your conduct, my brethren, answer to these questions ?
If your tongues reply, they will perhaps for your credit
give a right answer ; but what say your prevailing dispo-
sition and common practice ? are you not more thought-
ful for time than eternity 1 more concerned about visible
vanities than invisible realities ? If so, you make a fool's
choice indeed.

But let it be further considered, that the transitoriness
of visible things may imply that we must ere long be
removed from them. Though they were immortal it
would be nothing to us, since we are not so in our present
state. Within a few years at most, we shall be beyond
the reach of all happiness and misery from temporal
things.

But when we pass out of this transitory state, we enter
upon an everlasting state. Our souls will always exist,
exist in a state of unchangeable, boundless happiness or

332 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE

misery. It is but a little while since we came into being
out of a state of eternal non-existence ; but we shall never
relapse into that state again. These little sparks of being
shall never be extinguished ! they will survive the ruins
of the world, and kindle into immortality. When millions
of millions of ages are past, we shall still be in existence :
and oh ! in what unknown region ? In that of endless
bliss or of interminable misery ? Be this the most anxious
inquiry of our lives.

Seeing then we must soon leave this world, and all its
joys and sorrows, and seeing we must enter on an un-
changeable, everlasting state of happiness or misery, be it
our chief concern to end our present pilgrimage well. It
matters but little whether we lie easy or not during this
night of existence, if so be we awake in eternal day. It
is but a trifle, hardly worth a thought, whether we be
happy or miserable here, if we be happy for ever hereafter.
What then mean the bustle and noise of mankind about the
things of time 1 Oh, sirs, eternity ! awful, all important
eternity ! is the only thing that deserves a thought. I come,

II. To show the great and happy influence a suitable
impression of the superior importance of invisible to visible
things would have upon us. This I might exemplify in a
variety of instances with respect to saints and sinners.

When we are tempted to any unlawful pleasures, how
would we shrink away with horror from the pursuit, had
we a due sense of the misery incurred, and the happiness
forfeited by it !

When we find our hearts excessively eager after things
below, had we a suitable view of eternal things, all these
things would shrink into trifles hardly worth a thought,
much less our principal concern.

When the sinner, for the sake of a little present ease,
and to avoid a little present uneasiness stifles his conscience,

PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 333

refuses to examine his condition, casts the thoughts of eter-
nity out of his mind, and thinks it too hard to attend pain-
fully on all the means of grace, has he then a due estimate
of eternal things ? Alas ! no ; he only looks at the things
that are seen. Were the mouth of hell open before him,
that he might behold its torments, and had he a sight of
the joys of paradise, they would harden him into a gener-
ous insensibility of all the sorrows and anxieties of this life,
and his inquiry would not be, whether these things re-
quired of him are easy; but, whether they are necessary
to obtain eternal happiness, and avoid everlasting misery.

When we suffer any reproach or contempt on a religious
account, how would a due estimate of eternal things fortify
us with undaunted courage and make us willing to climb
to heaven through disgrace, rather than sink to hell with
general applause !

How would a realizing view of eternal things animate
us in our devotions? Were this thought impressed on
our hearts when in the secret or social duties of religion,
" I am now acting for eternity," do you think we should
pray, read, or hear with so much indifferency and langour?
Oh no ; it would rouse us out of our dead frames, and call
forth all the vigour of our souls. With what unwearied
importunity should we cry to God ! with what eagerness
hear the word of salvation !

How powerful an influence would a view of futurity
have to alarm the secure sinner that has thought little of
eternity all his life, though it be the only thing worth
thinking of!

How would it hasten the determination of the lingering,
wavering sinner, and shock him at the thought of living
one day unprepared on the very brink of eternity !

In a word, a suitable impression of this would quite
alter the aspect of things in the world, and would turn the

334 THINGS UNSEEN PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN.

concern and activity of the world into another channel.
Eternity then would be the principal concern. Our inqui-
ries would not be, Who will show us any temporal good?
What shall we eat, or what shall we drink? But, What
shall we do to be saved ? How shall we escape the wrath
to come? Let us then endeavour to impress our hearts
with invisible things, and for that purpose consider, that

We shall, ere long, be ingulfed in this awful eternity,
whether we think of it or not. A few days or years will
launch us there; and oh, the surprising scenes that will
then open to us !

Without deep impressions of eternity on our hearts, and
frequent thoughtfulness about it, we cannot be prepared
for it.

And if we are not prepared for it, oh, how inconceive-
ably miserable our case ! But if prepared, how inconceive-
ably happy !

Look not then at the things which are seen, but at the
things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen
are temporal ; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

THE SACRED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 335

SERMON XII.

THE SACRED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAME.

ACTS xi. 26. — The Disciples were catted Christians first

in Antioch.

MERE names are empty sounds, and but of little conse-
quence : and yet it must be owned there are names of
honour and significancy; and, when they are attended
with the things signified by them, they are of great and
sacred importance.

Such is the Christian name ; a name about seventeen
hundred years old. And now when the name is almost
lost in party-distinctions, and the thing is almost lost in ig-
norance, error, vice, hypocrisy, and formality, it may be
worth our while to consider the original import of that
sacred name, as a proper expedient to recover both name
and thing.

The name of Christian was not the first by which the
followers of Christ were distinguished. Their enemies
called them Galileans, Nazarenes, and other names of con-
tempt: and among themselves they were called Saints,
from their holiness; Disciples, from their learning their
religion from Christ as their teacher ; Believers, from their
believing in him as the Messiah; and Brethren, from their
mutual love and their relation to God and each other.
But after some time they were distinguished by the name
of Christians. This they first received in Antioch, a hea-
then city, a city infamous for all manner of vice and de-

336 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

bauchery : a city that had its name from Antiochus Epi-
phanes, the bitterest enemy the church of the Jews ever
had. A city very rich and powerful, from whence the
Christian name would have an extensive circulation ; but
it is long since laid in ruins, unprotected by that sacred
name : in such a city was Christ pleased to confer his name
upon his followers ; and you cannot but see that the very
choice of the place discovers his wisdom, grace, and justice.

The original word, which is here rendered catted, seems
to intimate that they were called Christians by divine ap-
pointment, for it generally signifies an oracular nomination
or a declaration from God ; and to this purpose it is gene-
rally translated.* Hence it follows that the very name
Christian, as well as the thing, was of a divine original;
assumed not by a private agreement of the disciples among
themselves, but by the appointment of God. And in this
view it is a remarkable accomplishment of an old prophecy
of Isaiah, chap. Ixii. 2. The Gentiles shall see thy right-
eousness, and all kings thy glory : and thou shalt be called
by a new name, which the mouth of the LORD shall name.
So Isaiah Ixv. 15. The Lord shall call his servants by an-
other name.

This name was at first confined to a few; but it soon
had a surprisingly extensive propagation through the
world. In many countries, indeed, it was lost, and mise-

* "It is this word that is used, Matt. ii. 12. Kal xpnna™0cVTss, being
warned of God, and the like in Matt. ii. 22. So in Rom. xi. 4, xpiitana^;,
is rendered the answer of God. Rom. vii. 3, xp^anVtc, she shall be called,
x»tz. by the divine law,) an adultress. Luke ii. 26, xtxpr^aTurnivov, it was re-
vealed to him by the Holy Ghost. Acts x. 22, txpn/ianVflr, was warned from
God. Heb. viii. 5, Kcxpn/ianVrai Mtoo-tj, Moses was admonished of God.
Heb. xi. 7 : Noah being warned of God, xp^an<r9«.f, Heb. xii. 25. If they
escaped not, who refused him that spake on earth ; viz. by divine inspi-
ration. These are all the places perhaps in which the word is used in the
New Testament : and in all these it seems to mean a revelation from God,
or something oracular. And this is a strong presumption that the word
is to be so understood in the text."

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 337

rably exchanged for that of Heathen, Mahometan, or Mus-
selman. Yet the European nations still retain the honour
of wearing it. A few scattered Christians are also still to
be found here and there in Asia and Africa, though crushed
under the oppressions of Mahometans and Pagans. This
name has likewise crossed the wide ocean to the wilder-
ness of America, and is worn by the sundry European
colonies on this continent. We, in particular, call our-
selves Christians, and should take it ill to be denied the
honour of that distinction. But do we not know the
meaning and sacred import of that name? Do we not
know what it is to be Christians indeed? That is, to be
in reality what we are in name : certainly it is time for us
to consider the matter; and it is my present design that
we should do so.

Now we may consider this name in various views ; par-
ticularly as a name of distinction from the rest of the
world, who know not the Lord Jesus, or reject him as an
impostor ; — as a patronymic name, pointing out the Father
and Founder of our holy religion and the Christian church ;
— as a badge of our relation to Christ as his servants, his
children, his bride ; — as intimating our unction by the holy
Spirit, or our being the subjects of his influences ; as Christ
was anointed by the holy Spirit, or replenished with his
gifts above measure, (for you are to observe that anointed
is the English of the Greek name Christ, and of the He-
brew, Messiah*) and as a name of approbation, signifying
that we are the property of Christ, and his peculiar peo-
ple. Each of these particulars might be properly illus-
trated.! But my present design confines me to consider

* Psalm cv. 15. Touch not my Christs ; that is, my anointed people.
So the Seventy.

f See a fine illustration of them in Dr. Grosvenor's excellent essay on the
Christian name ; from whom I am not ashamed to borrow several amiable
sentiments.

VOL. I.— 43

338 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

the Christian name only in two views ; namely, as a catho-
lic name, intended to bury all party denominations ; and as
a name of obligation upon all that wear it to be Christians
indeed, or to form their temper and practice upon the
sacred model of Christianity.

1. Let us consider the Christian name as a catholic
name, intended to bury all party denominations.

The name Gentile was odious to the Jews, and the
name Jew was odious to the Gentiles. The name Chris-
tian swallows up both in one common and agreeable ap-
pellation. He that hath taken down the partition-wall,
has taken away partition names, and united all his followers
in his own name, as a common denomination. For now,
says Paul, " there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision
nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free ; but
Christ is all and in all." Col. iii. 11. "And ye are all
one in Christ Jesus." Gal. iii. 28. According to a
prophecy of Zechariah, The LORD shall be king over all
the earth; and in that day there shall be one LORD, and
his name one. Zech. xiv. 9.

It is but a due honour to Jesus Christ, the founder of
Christianity, that all who profess his religion should wear
his name ; and they pay an extravagant and even idolatrous
compliment to his subordinate officers and ministers, when
they take their denomination from them. Had this
humour prevailed in the primitive church, instead of the
common name Christians, there would have been as many
party-names as there were apostles or eminent ministers.
There would have been Paulites from Paul; Peterites
from Peter; Johnites from John; Barnabites from Bar-
nabas, &c. Paul took pains to crush the first risings of
this party spirit in those churches which he planted ; par-
ticularly in Corinth, where it most prevailed. While they
were saying, Jaw of Paul; and I of Apollos ; and I of

THE CHRISTIAN NAME.

Cephas; and I of Christ ; he puts this pungent question
to them : " Is Christ divided ?" Are his servants the ring-
leaders of so many parties? Was Paul crucified for you?
or were ye baptized in or into the name of Paul, that ye
should be so fond to take your name from him? He
counted it a happiness that Providence had directed him
to such a conduct as gave no umbrage of encouragement
to such a humour. I thank God, says he, that I baptized
none of you, but Crispus and Gains : lest any should say,
that I baptized in my own name, and was gathering a party
for myself. 1 Cor. i. 12-15.

But alas! how little has this convictive reasoning of
the apostle been regarded in the future ages of the church ?
What an endless variety of denominations taken from some
men of character, or from some little peculiarities, has pre-
vailed in the Christian world, and crumbled it to pieces,
while the Christian name is hardly regarded? Not to
take notice of Jesuits, Jansenites, Dominicans, Franciscans,
and other denominations and orders in the popish church,
where having corrupted the thing, they act very con-
sistently to lay aside the name, what party names have
been adopted by the Protestant churches, whose religion
is substantially the same common Christianity, and who
agree in much more important articles than in those they
differ; and who therefore might peaceably unite under the
common name of Christians? We have Lutherans, Cal-
vinists, Arminians, Zuinglians, Churchmen, Presbyterians,
Independents, Baptists, and a long list of names which I
cannot now enumerate. To be a Christian is not enough
now-a-days, but a man must also be something more and
better; that is, he must be a strenuous bigot to this or that
particular church. But where is the reason or propriety
of this? I may indeed believe the same things which
Luther or Calvin believed : but I do not believe them on

340 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

the authority of Luther or Calvin, but upon the sole
authority of Jesus Christ, and therefore I should not call
myself by their name, as one of their disciples, but by the
name of Christ, whom alone I acknowledge as the Author
of my religion, and my only Master and Lord. If I learn
my religion from one of these great men, it is indeed
proper I should assume their name. If I learn it from a
parliament or convocation, and make their acts and canons
the rule and ground of my faith, then it is enough for me
to be of the established religion, be that what it will : I
may with propriety be called a mere conformist ; that is
my highest character: but I cannot be properly called a
Christian : for a Christian learns his religion, not from acts
of parliament or from the determinations of councils, but
from Jesus Christ and his gospel.

To guard against mistakes on this head, I would observe
that every man has a natural and legal right to judge and
choose for himself in matters of religion; and that is a
mean, supple soul indeed, and utterly careless about all re-
ligion, that makes a compliment of this right to any man,
or body of men upon earth, whether pope, king, parlia-
ment, convocation, or synod. In the exercise of this right
and searching for himself, he will find that he agrees more
fully in lesser as well as more important articles with some
particular church than others; and thereupon it is his duty
to join in stated communion with that church; and he
may, if he pleases, assume the name which that church
wears, by way of distinction from others; this is not what
I condemn. But for me to glory in the denomination of
any particular church as my highest character; to lay
more stress upon the name of a presbyterian or a church-
man, than on the sacred name of Christian; to make a
punctilious agreement with my sentiments in the little pe-
culiarities of a party the test of all religion; to make it the

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 341

object of my zeal to gain proselytes to some other than
the Christian name ; to connive at the faults of those of my
own party, and to be blind to the good qualities of others,
or invidiously to misrepresent or diminish them; these are
the things which deserve universal condemnation from
God and man; these proceed from a spirit of bigotry and
faction, directly opposite to the generous catholic spirit of
Christianity, and subversive of it. And yet how common
is this spirit among all denominations! and what mischief
has it done in the world ! Hence proceed contentions and
animosities, uncharitable suspicions and censures, slander
and detraction, partiality and unreasonable prejudices, and
a hideous group of evils, which I cannot now describe.
This spirit also hinders the progress of serious practical
religion, by turning the attention of men from the great
concerns of eternity, and the essentials of Christianity, to
vain jangling and contest about circumstances and trifles.
Thus the Christian is swallowed up in the partisan and
fundamentals lost in extra-essentials.

My brethren, I would now warn you against this
wretched, mischievous spirit of party. I would not have
you entirely sceptical and undetermined even about the
smaller points of religion, the modes and forms, which are
the matters of contention between different churches; nor
would I have you quite indifferent what particular church
to join with in stated communion. Endeavour to find
out the truth even in these circumstantials, at least so far
as is necessary for the direction of your own conduct.
But do not make these the whole or the principal part of
your religion; do not be excessively zealous about them,
nor break the peace of the church by magisterially im-
posing them upon others. " Hast thou faith in these little
disputables ?" it is well; "but have it to thyself before
God," and do not disturb others with it. You may, if you

342 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

please, call yourselves Presbyterians and Dissenters, and
you shall bear without shame or resentment all the names
of reproach and contempt which the world may brand you
with. But as you should not be mortified on the one
side, so neither should you glory on the other. A Chris-
tian! a Christian! let that be your highest distinction; let
that be the name which you labour to deserve. God for-
bid that my ministry should be the occasion of diverting
your attention to any thing else. But I am so happy that
I can appeal to yourselves, whether I have during several
years of my ministry among you, laboured to instil into
you the principles of bigotry, and make you warm prose-
lytes to a party : or whether it has not been the great ob-
ject of my zeal to inculcate upon you the grand essentials
of our holy religion, and make you sincere, practical Chris-
tians. Alas! my dear people, unless I succeed in this, I
labour to very little purpose, though I should presbyte-
rianize the whole colony.

Calumny and slander, it is hoped, have by this time
talked themselves out of breath; and the lying spirit may
be at a loss for materials to form a popular, plausible false-
hood, which is likely to be credited where the dissenters
are known. But you have heard formerly, and some of
you may still hear strange and uncommon surmises, wild
conjectures, and most dismal insinuations. But if you
would know the truth at once, if you would be fully in-
formed by one that best knows what religion I am of, I
will tell you (with Mr. Baxter,) " I am a Christian, a mere
Christian ; of no other religion : my church is the Christian
church." The Bible! the Bible! is my religion; and if I
am a dissenter, I dissent only from modes and forms of re-
ligion which I cannot find in my Bible; and which there-
fore I conclude have nothing to do with religion, much
less should they be made terms of Christian communion,

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 343

since Christ, the only lawgiver of his church, has not made
them such. Let this congregation be that of a Christian
society, and I little care what other name it wears. Let
it be a little Antioch, where the followers of Christ shall
be distinguished by their old Catholic name, Christians.
To bear and deserve this character, let this be our ambi-
tion, this our labour. Let popes pronounce, and councils
decree what they please; let statesmen and ecclesiastics
prescribe what to believe; as for us, let us study our
Bibles: let us learn of Christ; and if we are not dignified
with the smiles, or enriched with the emoluments of an
establishment, we shall have his approbation, who is the
only Lord and Sovereign of the realm of conscience, and
by whose judgment we must stand or fall for ever.

But it is time for me to proceed to consider the other
view of the Christian name, on which I intend principally
to insist ; and that is,

II. As a name of obligation upon all that bear it to be
Christians indeed, or to form their temper and practice
upon the sacred model of Christianity. The prosecution
of this subject will lead me to answer this important in-
quiry, What is it to be a Christian ?

To be a Christian, in the popular and fashionable sense,
is no difficult or excellent thing. It is to be baptized, to
profess the Christian religion, to believe, like our neigh-
bours, that Christ is the Messiah, and to attend upon pub-
lic worship once a week, in some church or other that
bears only the Christian name. In this sense a man may
be a Christian, and yet be habitually careless about eternal
things; a Christian, and yet fall short of the morality of
many of the heathens; a Christian, and yet a drunkard, a
swearer, or a slave to some vice or other ; a Christian, and
yet a wilful, impenitent offender against God and man.
To be a Christian in this sense is no high character; and,

344 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

if this be the whole of Christianity, it is very little matter
whether the world be Christianized or not. But is this
to be a Christian in the original and proper sense of the
word ? No ; that is something of a very different and
superior kind. To be a Christian indeed, is the highest
character and dignity of which the human nature is capa-
ble : it is the most excellent thing that ever adorned our
world : it is a thing that heaven itself beholds with appro-
bation and delight.

To be a Christian is to be like to Christ, from whom
the name is taken : it is to be a follower and imitator of
him ; to be possessed of his spirit and temper ; and to
live as he lived in the world : it is to have those just, ex-
alted, and divine notions of God and divine things, and
that just and full view of our duty to God and man, which
Christ taught : in short it is to have our sentiments, our
temper, and practice, formed upon the sacred model of
the gospel. Let me expatiate a little upon this amiable
character.

1. To be a Christian, is to depart from iniquity. To
this the name obliges us; and without this we have no
title to the name. " Let every one that nameth the name
of Christ depart from iniquity," 2 Tim. ii 19; that is, let
him depart from iniquity, or not dare to touch that sacred
name. Christ was perfectly free from sin : he was "holy,
harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." His fol-
lowers also shall be perfectly free from sin in a little time;
ere long they will enter into the pure regions of perfect
holiness, and will drop all their sins, with their mortal
bodies, into the grave. But this, alas ! is not their cha-
racter in the present state, but the remains of sin still cleave
to them. Yet even in the present state, they are labour-
ing after perfection in holiness. Nothing can satisfy them
until they are conformed to the image of God's dear Son.

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 345

They are hourly conflicting with every temptation, and
vigorously resisting every iniquity in its most alluring
forms. And, though sin is perpetually struggling for the
mastery, and sometimes, in an inadvertent hour, gets an
advantage over them, yet, as they are not under the law,
but under grace, they are assisted with recruits of grace,
so that no sin has any habitual dominion over them. Rom.
vi. 14. Hence they are free from the gross vices of the
age, and are men of good morals. This is their habitual,
universal character; and to pretend to be Christians with-
out this requisite, is the greatest absurdity.

What then shall we think of the drunken, swearing,
debauched, defrauding, rakish, profligate, profane Chris-
tians, that have overrun the Christian world 1 Can there
be a greater contradiction ? A loyal subject in arms
against his sovereign, an ignorant scholar, a sober drunk-
ard, a charitable miser, an honest thief, is not a greater
absurdity, or a more direct contradiction. To depart from
iniquity is essential to Christianity, and without it there
can be no such thing. There was nothing that Christ was
so remote from as sin : and therefore for those that in-
dulge themselves in it to wear his name, is just as absurd
and ridiculous as for a coward to denominate himself from
Alexander the Great, or an illiterate dunce to call himself
a Newtonian philosopher. Therefore, if you will not re-
nounce iniquity, renounce the Christian name : for you
cannot consistently retain both. Alexander had a fellow
in his army that was of his own name, but a mere coward.
" Either be like me," says Alexander, " or lay aside my
name." Ye servants of sin, it is in vain for you to wear
the name of Christ ; it renders you the more ridiculous,
and aggravates your guilt : you may with as much pro-
priety call yourselves lords, or dukes, or kings, as Chris-
tians, while you are so unlike to Christ. His name is a

VOL. I.— 44

346 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

sarcasm, a reproach to you, and you are a scandal to his
name. His name is blasphemed among the Gentiles
through you.

2. To be a Christian is to deny yourselves and take up
the cross and follow Christ. These are the terms of dis-
cipleship fixed by Christ himself. He said to them all, If
any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take
up his cross daily, and follow me. Luke ix. 23. To deny
ourselves is to abstain from the pleasures of sin, to moder-
ate our sensual appetites, to deny our own interest for the
sake of Christ, and in short, to sacrifice every thing incon-
sistent with our duty to him, when these come in compe-
tition. To take up our cross, is to bear sufferings, to en-
counter difficulties, and break through them all in imita-
tion of Jesus Christ, and for his sake. To follow him, is
to trace his steps, and imitate his example, whatever it cost
us. But this observation will coincide with the next head,
and therefore I now dismiss it. These, sirs, and these
only, are the terms, if you would be Christians, or the dis-
ciples of Christ. These he honestly warned mankind of
when he first called them to be his disciples. He did not
take an advantage of them, but let them know beforehand
upon what terms they were admitted. He makes this de-
claration in the midst of a great crowd, in Luke xiv. 25,
&c. There went great multitudes with him, fond of be-
coming his followers : and he turned, and said unto them,
If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and
mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters,
yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. By
hating, is here meant a smaller degree of love, or a com-
parative hatred ; that is, if we would be Christ's disciples.
we must be willing to part with our dearest relations, and
even our lives, when we cannot retain them consistently
with our duty to him. He goes on : Whosoever doth not

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 347

bear his cross, and encounter the greatest sufferings after
my example, cannot be my disciple. The love of Christ
is the ruling passion of every true Christian, and for his
sake he is ready to give up all, and to suffer all that earth
or hell can inflict. He must run all risks, and cleave to
his cause at all adventures. This is the essential charac-
ter of every true Christian.

What then shall we think of those crowds among us
who retain the Christian name, and yet will not deny
themselves of their sensual pleasures, nor part with their
temporal interest for the sake of Christ ? Who are so far
from being willing to lay down their lives, that they can-
not stand the force of a laugh or a sneer in the cause of
religion, but immediately stumble and fall away ? or, are
they Christians, whom the commands of Christ cannot re-
strain from what their depraved hearts desire ? No ; a
Christian, without self-denial, mortification, and a supreme
love to Jesus Christ, is as great a contradiction as fire with-
out heat, or a sun without light, a hero without courage,
or a friend without love. And does not this strip some of
you of the Christian name, and prove that you have no
title at all to it?

3. I have repeatedly observed, that a true Christian
must be a follower or imitator of Christ. Be ye followers
of me, says St. Paul, as I also am of Christ. 1 Cor. xi. 1.
Christ is the model after whom every Christian is formed ;
for, says St. Peter, he left us an example, that we should
follow his steps. 1 Pet. ii. 21. St. Paul tells us, that we
must be conformed to the image of God's dear Son, Rom.
vii. 29, and that the same mind must be in us which was
also in Christ Jesus. Phil. ii. 5 ; unless we partake of his
spirit, and resemble him in practice ; unless we be as he
was in the world, we have no right to partake of his name.

Here I would observe, that what was miraculous in

348 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

our Lord's conduct, and peculiar to him as the Son of
God and Mediator, is not a pattern for our imitation, but
only what was done in obedience to that law of God
which was common to him and us. His heart glowed
with love to his Father; he delighted in universal obedience
to him ; it was his meat and drink to do his will, even in
the most painful and self-denying instances ; he abounded
in devotion, in prayer, meditation, fasting, and every re-
ligious duty. He was also full of every grace and virtue
towards mankind ; meek and lowly, kind and benevolent,
just and charitable, merciful and compassionate ; a dutiful
son, a loyal subject, a faithful friend, a good master, and an
active, useful, public-spirited member of society. He was
patient and resigned, and yet undaunted and brave under
sufferings; he had all his appetites and passions under
proper government, he was heavenly-minded, above this
world in heart while he dwelt in it. Beneficence to the
souls and bodies of men was the business of his life ; for
he went about doing good. Acts x. 38. This is an imper-
fect sketch of his amiable character ; and in these things
every one that deserves to be called after his name, does
in some measure resemble and imitate him. This is not
only his earnest endeavour, but what he actually attains,
though in a much inferior degree ; and his imperfections
are the grief of his heart. This resemblance and imita-
tion of Christ is essential to the very being of a Christian,
and without it, it is a vain pretence. And does your
Christianity, my brethren, stand this test ? may one know
that you belong to Christ by your living like him, and dis-
covering the same temper and spirit ? Do the manners
of the divine Master spread through all his family ; and
do you show that you belong to it by your temper and
conduct ? Alas ! if you must be denominated from hence,
would not some of you with more propriety be called

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 349

Epicureans from Epicurus, the sensual atheistic philoso-
pher, or mammonites from Mammon, the imaginary God of
riches, or Bacchanals from Bacchus, the god of wine,
than Christians from Christ, the most perfect pattern of
living holiness and virtue that ever was exhibited in the
world ?

If you claim the name of Christians, where is that ar-
dent devotion, that affectionate love to God, that zeal for
his glory, that alacrity in his service, that resignation to
his will, that generous benevolence to mankind, that zeal
to promote their best interests, that meekness and forbear-
ance under ill usage, that unwearied activity in doing good
to all, that self-denial and heavenly- mindedness which shone
so conspicuous in Christ, whose holy name you bear?
Alas! while you are destitute of those graces, and yet
wear his name, you burlesque it, and turn it into a re-
proach both to him and yourselves.

I might add, that the Christian name is not hereditary
to you by your natural birth, but you must be born anew
of the Spirit to entitle you to this new name; that a
Christian is a believer, believing in him after whom he is
called as his only Saviour and Lord, and that he is a true
penitent. Repentance was incompatible with Christ's
character, who was perfectly righteous, and had no sin of
which to repent ; but it is a proper virtue in a sinner,
without which he cannot be a Christian. On these and
several other particulars I might enlarge, but my time
will not allow ; I shall therefore conclude with a few re-
flections.

First, You may hence see that the Christian character
is the highest, the most excellent and sublime in the
world; it includes everything truly great and amiable.
The Christian has exalted sentiments of the Supreme Be-
ing, just notions of duty, and a proper temper and con-

350 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

duct towards God and man. A Christian is a devout
worshipper of the God of heaven, a cheerful observer of
his whole law, and a broken-hearted penitent for his im-
perfections. A Christian is a complication of all the
amiable and useful graces and virtues; temperate and so-
ber, just, liberal, compassionate, and benevolent, humble,
meek, gentle, peaceable, and in all things conscientious.
A Christian is a good parent, a good child, a good master,
a good servant, a good husband, a good wife, a faithful
friend, an obliging neighbour, a dutiful subject, a good ruler,
a zealous patriot, and an honest statesman ; and as far as
he is such, so far, and no farther, he is a Christian. And
can there be a more amiable and excellent character ex-
hibited to your view ? It is an angelic, a divine character.
Let it be your glory and your ambition to wear it with a
good grace, to wear it so as to adorn it.

To acquire the title of kings and lords, is not in your
power; to spread your fame as scholars, philosophers, or
heroes, may be beyond your reach ; but here is a charac-
ter more excellent, more amiable, more honourable than
all these, which it is your business to deserve and maintain.
And blessed be God, this is a dignity which the meanest
among you, which beggars and slaves may attain. Let
this therefore be an object of universal ambition and pur-
suit, and let every other name and title be despised in
comparison of it. This is the way to rise to true honour
in the estimate of God, angels, and good men. What
though the anti-christian Christians of our age and country
ridicule you? let them consider their own absurd con-
duct and be ashamed. They think it an honour to wear
the Christian name, and yet persist in unchristian prac-
tices ; and who but a fool, with such palpable contradic-
tion, would think so 1 A beggar that fancies himself a
king and trails his rags with the gait of majesty, as though

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 351

they were royal robes, is not so ridiculous as one that will
usurp the Christian name without a Christian practice;
and yet such Christians are the favourites of the world.
To renounce the profession of Christianity is barbarous
and profane; to live according to that profession, and
practice Christianity, is precisentes and fanaticism. Can
anything be more preposterous ? This is as if one should
ridicule learning, and yet glory in the character of a
scholar ; or laugh at bravery, and yet celebrate the praises
of heroes. And are they fit to judge of the wisdom and
propriety, or their censures to be regarded, who fall into
such an absurdity themselves ?

Secondly, Hence you may see that, if all the professors
of Christianity should behave in character, the religion of
Christ would soon appear divine to all mankind, and spread
through all nations of the earth. Were Christianity ex-
hibited to the life in all its native inherent glories, it would
be as needless to offer arguments to prove it divine, as to
prove that the sun is full of light; the conviction would
flash upon all mankind by its own intrinsic evidence. Did
Christians exemplify the religion they profess, all the
world would immediately see that that religion which ren-
dered them so different a people from all the rest of man-
kind, is indeed divine, and every way worthy of universal
acceptance. Then would

Heathenism, Mahometanism, and all the false religions in
the world, fall before the heaven-born religion of Jesus
Christ. Then it would be sufficient to convince an infidel
just to bring him into a Christian country, and let him ob-
serve the different face of things there from all the world
beside. But alas !

Thirdly, How different is the Christian world from the
Christian religion ! Who would imagine that they who
take their name from Christ have any relation to him, if

352 THE SACRED IMPORT OF

we observe their spirit and practice 1 Should a stranger
learn Christianity from what he sees in Popish countries,
he would conclude it principally consisted in bodily au-
sterities, in worshipping saints, images, relics, and a thou-
sand trifles, in theatrical fopperies and insignificant cere-
monies, in believing implicitly all the determinations of a
fallible man as infallibly true, and in persecuting all that
differ from them, and showing their love to their souls by
burning their bodies. In Protestant countries, alas ! the
face of things is but little better as to good morals and
practical religion. Let us take our own country for a
sample. Suppose a Heathen or Mahometan should take
a tour through Virginia to learn the religion of the inhab-

o o o

itants from their general conduct, what would he conclude ?
would he not conclude that all the religion of the gene-
rality consisted in a few Sunday formalities, and that the
rest of the week they had nothing to do with God, or any
religion, but were at liberty to live as they please ? And
were he told these were the followers of one Christ, and
were of his religion, would he not conclude that he was
certainly an impostor, and the minister of sin ? But when
he came to find that, notwithstanding all this licentious-
ness, they professed the pure and holy religion of the
Bible, how would he be astonished, and pronounce them
the most inconsistent, bare-faced hypocrites ! My bre-
thren, great and heavy is the guilt that lies upon our
country upon this account. It is a scandal to the Chris-
tian name; it is guilty of confirming the neighbouring
heathen in their prejudices, and hinders the propagation
of Christianity through the world. Oh let not us be ac-
cessary to this dreadful guilt, but do all we can to recom-
mend our religion to universal acceptance ! — I add,

Fourthly, and lastly, Let us examine whether we have
any just title to the Christian name ; that is, whether we

THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 353

are Christians indeed; for if we have not the thing, to re-
tain the name is the most inconsistent folly and hypocrisy,
and will answer no end but to aggravate our condemnation.
A lost Christian is the most shocking character in hell ;
and unless you be such Christians as I have described, it
will ere long be your character. Therefore, be followers
of Christ, imbibe his spirit, practise his precepts, and de-
part from iniquity. Otherwise he will sentence you from
him at last as workers of iniquity. And then will I pro-
fess unto them (they are Christ's own words) I never knew
you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity. Matt. vii. 23.
VOL. I.— 45

354 THE DIVINE MERCY

SERMON XIIL

THE DIVINE MERCY TO MOURNING PENITENTS.

JER. xxxi. 18, 19, 20. — I have surely heard Ephraim be-
moaning himself thus ; Thou hast chastised me, and I
was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke :
turn thou me, and I shall be turned ; for thou art the
LORD my God. Surely after that I was turned, I re-
pented ; and after that I was instructed, I smote upon
my thigh : I was ashamed, yea, even confounded, because
I did bear the reproach of my youth. Is Ephraim my
dear son ? is he a pleasant child ? for since I spake
against him, I do earnestly remember him still : there-
fore my bowels are troubled for him : I will surely have
mercy upon him, saith the LORD.

IN these words the mourning language of a penitent
child, sensible of ingratitude, and at once desirous and
ashamed to return, and the tender language of a compas-
sionate father, at once chastising, pitying, and pardoning,
are sweetly blended: and the images are so lively and
moving, that if they were regarded only as poetical descrip-
tions founded upon fiction, they would be irresistibly strik-
ing. But when we consider them as the most important
realities, as descriptive of that ingenuous repentance which
we must all feel, and of that gracious acceptance we must all
obtain from God before we can be happy, what almighty en-
ergy should they have upon us ! how may our hearts dissolve
within us at the sound of such pathetic complaints, and

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 355

such gracious encouragements ! Hard indeed is that heart
that can hear these penitential strains without being melted
into the like tender relentings ; and inveterate is that
melancholy, incurable is that despondency, that can listen
to such expressions of fatherly compassion and love, with-
out being cheered and animated.

This whole chapter had a primary reference to the
Jews, and such of the Israelites as might mingle with them
in their return from the Babylonian captivity. As they
were enslaved to foreigners, and removed from their native
land for their sins, so they could not be restored but upon
their repentance. Upon this condition only a resto-
ration was promised them. Lev. xxvi. 40-43; Deut.
xxx. 1-16.

In this chapter we have a prediction of their repentance
under the heavy chastisement of seventy years' captivity,
and of their return thereupon to their own land. In the
text the whole body of penitents among them is called by
the name of a single person, Ephraim. In the prophetic
writings, the kingdom of the ten tribes, as distinguished
from that of Judah, is frequently denominated by this name,
because the Ephraimites were a principal family among
them. And sometimes, as here, the name is given to the
Jews, probably on account of the great number of Ephraim-
ites mingled with them, especially on their return from
captivity. All the penitent Jews are included under this
single name, to intimate their unanimity in their repent-
ance ; their hearts consented, like the heart of one man, to
turn to the Lord, from whom with horrid unanimity they
had revolted. This single name Ephraim also renders this
passage more easily applicable to particular penitents in all
ages. Every one of such may insert his own name, instead
of that of Ephraim, and claim the encouragement originally
given to them. And indeed this whole passage is appli-

358 THE DIVINE MERCY

And where shall we find him ? And what is he doing '?
We shall not find him, as usual in a thoughtless hurry
about earthly things, confining all his attention to these
trifles, and unmindful of the important concerns of eter-
nity. We shall not find him merry, inconsiderate, and
vain, in a circle of jovial, careless companions; much
less shall we find him intrepid and secure in a course of
sin, gratifying his flesh, and indulging his lusts. In this
enchanted road the crowd of hardy impenitents pass
secure and cheerful down to the chambers of death, but
the awakened sinner flies from it with horror ; or, if his
depraved heart would tempt him to walk in it, he cannot
take many steps before he is shocked with the horrid ap-
parition of impending danger. He finds the flattering paths
of sin haunted with the terrible spectres of guilt ; and
the sword of divine vengeance gleams bright and dread-
ful before him, and seems lifted to give the fatal blow.
You will, therefore, find the awakened sinner solitary and
solemn in some retired corner, not deceiving himself with
vain hopes of safety in his present state, but alarmed with
apprehensions of danger: not planning schemes for his
secular advantage, nor asking, with sordid anxiety, " Who
will show me any temporal good ?" but solicitous about
his perishing soul, and anxiously inquiring, What shall I do
to be saved ? He is not congratulating himself upon the
imaginary goodness of his heart or life, or priding himself
with secret wonder in a rich conceit of his excellencies ;
but you will hear him, in his sorrowful retirement, be-
moaning, or (as the original signifies) condoling himself.
He sees his case to be really awful and sad, and he, as it
were, takes up a lamentation over himself. He is no more
senseless, hard-hearted, and self-applauding, as he was wont
to be : but, like a mourning turtle, he bewails himself in
such tragical strains as these : " Unhappy creature that I

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 359

am ! into what a deplorable state have I brought myself!
and how long have I continued in it, with the insensibility
of a rock and the stupidity of a brute ? Now I may mourn
over my past neglected and unimproved days, as so many
deceased friends, sent indeed from heaven to do me good,
but cruelly killed by my ungrateful neglect and continued
delays as to return to God and holiness. Fly back, ye
abused months and years; arise from the dead; restore
me your precious moments again, that I may unravel the
web of life, and form it anew ; and that I may improve
the opportunities I have squandered away. Vain and des-
perate wish ! the wheels of time will not return, and what
shall I do? Here I am, a guilty, obnoxious creature, un-
certain of life and unfit to die; alienated from God, and
incapable (alas ! I may add unwilling to return) a slave to
sin, and too feeble to break the fetters of inveterate habits ;
liable to the arrest of divine justice, and unable to deliver
myself; exposed to the vengeance of heaven, yet can make
no atonement; destitute of an interest in Christ, and un-
certain, awfully uncertain, whether I shall ever obtain it.
Unhappy creatures ! How justly may I take up a lamen-
tation over myself! Pity me, ye brute creation, that know
not to sin, and therefore cannot know the misery of my
case ; and have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye
my friends ! and if these guilty lips may dare to pronounce
thy injured name, O thou God of grace, have pity upon
me ! But, alas ! I. deserve no pity, for how long have I
denied it to myself! Ah, infatuated wretch ! why did not
I sooner begin to secure my unhappy soul, that has lain
all this time neglected, and unpitied, upon the brink of
ruin ! Why did I not sooner lay my condition to heart ?
Alas ! I should have gone on thoughtless still, had I not
been awakened by the kind severity, the gracious chastise-
ments of my dishonoured Father !"

360 THE DIVINE MERCY

Thou hast chastised me. This, as spoken by Ephraim,
had a particular reference to the Babylonish captivity;
but we may naturally take occasion from it to speak of
those calamities in general, whether outward or inward,
that are made the means of alarming the secure sinner.

There are many ways which our heavenly Father takes
to correct his undutiful children until they return to him.
Sometimes he kindly takes away their health, the abused
occasion of their wantonness and security, and restrains
them from their lusts with fetters of affliction. This is
beautifully described by Elihu. " He is chastened with
pain upon his bed, and the multitude of his bones with
strong pain ; so that his life abhorreth bread, and his soul
dainty meat. His flesh is consumed away, that it cannot
be seen; and his bones, that were not seen, stick out.
Yea, his soul draweth near unto the grave, and his life
unto the destroyers. If there be a messenger with him,
an interpreter, one among a thousand, to show unto man
his uprightness ; then he is gracious unto him, and saith,
Deliver him from going down to the pit : — I have found a
ransom." Job xxxiii. 19, &c. Sometimes God awakens
the sinner to bethink himself, by stripping him of his
earthly supports and comforts, his estate, or his relatives,
which drew away his heart from eternal things, and thus
brings him to see the necessity of turning to God, the
fountain of bliss, upon the failure of the streams. Thus
he dealt with profligate Manasseh. 2 Chron. xxxiii. 11, 12.
He was taken in " thorns, and bound in fetters, and carried
to Babylon ; and when he was in affliction he sought the
Lord, and humbled himself greatly before him, and prayed
unto him," &c. Thus also God promises to do with his
chosen: "I will cause you to pass under the rod, and
I will bring you into the bond of my covenant." Ezek.
xx. 37; Psl. Ixxxix. 32; Prov. xxii. 15, xxix. 15.

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 361

But the principal means of correction which God uses
for the end of return to him is that of conscience; and
indeed without this, all the rest are in vain. Outward
afflictions are of service only as they tend to awaken the
conscience from its lethargy to a faithful discharge of its
trust. It is conscience that makes the sinner sensible of
his misery and scourges him till he return to his duty.
This is a chastisement the most severe that human nature
can endure. The lashes of a guilty conscience are into-
lerable ; and some under them have chosen strangling and
death rather than life. The spirit of a man may bear him
up under outward infirmities ; but when the spirit itself is
wounded, who can bear it? Prov. xviii. 14. Conscience
is a serpent in his breast, which bites and gnaws his heart ;
and he can no more avoid it, than he can fly from himself.
Its force is so great and universal that even the heathen
poet Juvenal, not famous for the delicacy of his morals,
taught by experience, could speak feelingly of its secret
blows, and of agonizing sweats under its tortures.*

Let not such of you as have never been tortured with
its remorse, congratulate yourselves upon your happiness,
for you are not innocents ; and therefore conscience will
not always sleep ; it will not always lie torpid and inactive,
like a snake benumbed with cold, in your breast. It will
awaken you either to your conversion or condemnation.
Either the fire of God's wrath flaming from his law will
enliven it in this world to sting you with medicinal an-
guish ; or the unquenchable fire of his vengeance in the

* Frigida tnens est

Criminibus, tacita sudant prax?ordia culpa.

JCTTKN. Sat. I.

Cur tamen hos tu

Erasisse putes, quos diri conscia facti
Men? habet attonitos, et surdo verbere csedit,
Occultum quatiente animo tortore flagellum ;

Id. Sat. XIII.
Vox.. I.— 46

362 THE DIVINE MERCY

lake of fire and brimstone will thaw it into life, and then
it will horribly rage in your breast, and diffuse its torment-
ing poison through your whole frame : and then it will be-
come a never-dying worm, and prey upon your hearts for
ever. But if you now suffer it to pain you with salutary
remorse, and awaken you to a tender sensibility of your
danger, this intestine enemy will in the end become your
bosom friend, will support you under every calamity, and
be your faithful companion and guardian through the most
dangerous paths of life. Therefore now submit to its
wholesome severities, now yield to its chastisements. Such
of you as have submitted to its authority, and obeyed its
faithful admonitions, find it your best friend : and you may
bless the day in which you complied with its demands,
though before divine grace renewed your heart, your wills
were stubborn and reluctant; and you might say with
Ephraim :

I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke ; that
is, " As a wild young ox, unbroken from the herd, is unman-
ageable, refuses the yoke, becomes outrageous at the whip or
goad, and wearies himself in ineffectual struggles to throw
off the burden clapt upon him, and regain his savage liberty,
and never will submit until wearied out, and unable to re-
sist any longer ; so has my stubborn heart, unaccustomed
to obey, refused the yoke of thy law, O my God, and
struggled with sullen obstinacy under thy chastisements.
Instead of calmly submitting to thy rod, and immediately
reforming under correction, instead of turning to thee, and
flying to thy arms to avoid the falling blow, I was unyield-
ing and outrageous, like a wild butt in a net. Isa. li. 20.
I wearied myself in desperate struggles to free myself from
thy chastising hand ; or vainly tried to harden myself to
bear it with obdurate insensibility. I tried to break the
rod of conscience that I might no more groan under its

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 363

lashes, and my heart reluctated and rebelled against the
gracious design of thy correction, which was to bring me
back to thee my heavenly Father. But now I am wea-
ried out, now I am sensible I must submit, or perish, and
that my conscience is too strong for me, and must pre-
vail."

You see, my brethren, the obstinate reluctance of an
awakened sinner to return to God. Like a wild young
bullock, he would range at large, and is impatient of the
yoke of the law, and the restraints of conscience. He
loves his sin and cannot bear to part with it. He has no
relish for the exercises of devotion and ascetic mortifica-
tion ; and therefore will not submit to them. The way
of holiness is disagreeable to his depraved heart, and he
will not turn his feet to it. He loves to be stupidly easy,
and serene in mind, and cannot bear to be checked in his
pursuit of business or pleasure by anxieties of heart, and
therefore he is impatient of the honest warnings of his
conscience, and uses a variety of wretched expedients to
silence its clamorous remonstrances. In short, he will do
any thing, he will turn to any thing rather than turn to
God. If his conscience will be but satisfied, he will for-
sake many of his sins : he will, like Herod, Mark vi. 20,
do many things, and walk in the whole round of outward
duties. All this he will do, if his conscience will be but
bribed by it. But if conscience enlarges its demands, and,
after he has reformed his life, requires him to make him a
new heart, requires him to turn not only from the outward
practice of gross vices, but from the love of all sins ; not
only to turn to the observance of religious duties, but to
turn to the Lord with all his heart, and surrender himself
entirely to him, and make it the main business of life to
serve him ; if conscience, I say, carries its demands thus
far, he cannot bear it, he struggles to throw off the yoke.

364 THE DIVINE MERCY

And some are cursed with horrid success in the attempt :
they are permitted to rest content in a partial reformation,
or external religion, as sufficient, and so go down to the
grave with a lie in their right hand. But the happy soul,
on whom divine grace is determined to finish its work in
spite of all opposition, is suffered to weary itself out in
a vain resistance of the chastisements of conscience, till it
is obliged to yield, and submit to the yoke. And then
with Ephraim it will cry :

Turn thou me, and I shall be turned. This is the
mourning sinner's language, when convinced that he must
submit and turn to God, and in the meantime finds him-
self utterly unable to turn. Many essays he makes to
give himself to the Lord; but oh! his heart starts back
and shrinks away as though he were rushing into flames,
when he is but flying to the gracious embraces of his
Father. He strives, and strives to drag it along, but all
in vain. And what shall he do in this extremity, but cry,
"Lord, turn thou me, and I shall be turned; draw me,
and I shall run after thee. Work in me to will and to do,
and then I shall work out my own salvation." Lord,
though I am sensible of the necessity of turning to thee,
though I exert my feeble strength in many a languid effort,
to come, yet I cannot so much as creep towards thee,
though I should die on the spot. Not only thy word, but
my own experience now convinces me that I cannot come
unto thee, unless thou draw me. John vi. 44. Others
vainly boast of their imaginary power, as though, when
they set themselves about it, they could perform some
great achievements. Thus I once flattered myself, but now,
when I am most capable of judging, that is, when I come
to the trial, all my boasts are humbled. Here I lie, a
helpless creature, unable to go to the physician, unable to
accept of pardon and life on the easy terms of the gospel,

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 365

and unable to free myself from the bondage of sin; and
thus I must lie for ever, unless that God, from whom I
have revolted, draws me back to himself. Turn me, oh
thou that hast the hearts of all men in thy hands, and canst
turn them whithersoever thou pleasest, turn me ; and then
weak, and reluctant as I am, I shall be turned ; this back-
ward heart will yield to the almighty attraction of thy
grace.

" Here am I as passive clay in the hand of the potter ;
incapable to fashion myself into a vessel fit for thy house ;
but thou canst form me as thou pleasest. This hard and
stubborn heart will be ductile and pliable to thine irresist-
ible power." Thus you see the awakened sinner is driven
to earnest prayer in his exigence. Never did a drowning
man call for help, or a condemned malefactor plead for
pardon with more sincerity and ardour. If the sinner had
neglected prayer all his life before now, he flies to it as
the only expedient left, or if he formerly ran it over in a
careless, unthinking manner, as an insignificant form, now
he exerts all the importunity of his soul ; now he prays as
for his life, and cannot rest till his desires are answered.

The sinner ventures to enforce his petition by pleading
his relation to God ; " Turn me, — for thou art the Lord
my God." There is a sense in which a sinner in his un-
regenerate state cannot call God his God ; that is, he can-
not claim a special interest in him as his portion, nor cry
" Abba, Father," with the spirit of adoption, as reconciled
to God. But even an unregenerate sinner may call him
my God in other senses ; he is his God by right, that is,
though he has idolatrously yielded himself to other gods,
yet by right he should have acknowledged him only. He
is his God, as that name denotes authority and power, to
which he should be subject : his God, as he would now
choose him to be his God, his portion, and his all, which

THE DIVINE MERCY

is implied in turning to him ; he is his God by anticipa-
tion and hope, as upon his turning to him he will become
his reconciled God in covenant ; and he is his God by
outward profession and visible relation. The force of this
argument, to urge his petition for converting grace, may
be viewed in various lights.

It may be understood thus : " Turn thou me, for thou
only who art the Lord of the universe, and hast all the
creation at thy control ; thou only, who art my God and
ruler, and in whose hand my heart is, art able to turn so
obstinate a creature. In vain do I seek for help else-
where. Not all the means upon earth, not all the persua-
sions, exhortations, invitations, and terrors that can be
used with me, can turn this heart ; it is a work becoming
the Lord God Almighty, and it is thou alone canst effect
it."

Or we may understand the plea thus : " Turn thou me,
and I shall turn to thee ; to thee who art the Lord my
God, and to whom I am under the most sacred obligations
to return. I would resign thine own right to thee ; I would
submit to thee who alone hast a just claim to me as thy
servant."

Or the words may be understood as an abjuration of
all the idol-lusts to which the sinner was enslaved before,
" I will turn to thee ; for to whom should I turn but to
the Lord my God : " What have I to do any more with
idols ?" Hosea xiv. 8. " Why should I any longer submit
to other lords, who have no right to me ? I would re-
nounce them all; I would throw off all subjection to
them, and avouch thee alone for the Lord my God."
Thus have the Jews renounced their false gods upon their
return from Babylon.

Or we may understand the words as an encouragement
to hope for converting grace, since it is asked from a God

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 367

of infinite power and goodness. " Though I have most
grievously offended, and had I done the thousandth part
so much against my fellow creatures, I could never expect
a favourable admission into their presence ; yet I dare ask
so great a favour of thee, for thou art God, and not man :
thy power and thy grace are all divine, such as become a
God. I therefore dare to hope for that from thy hands,
which I might despair of from all the universe of beings
besides."

Or finally, the passage may be looked upon as a plea
drawn from the sinner's external relation to God, as a
member of his visible church, and as dedicated to him.
" Turn me, and I will turn to thee, whose name I bear, and
to whom I have been early devoted. I would now of
my own choice acknowledge the God of my fathers, and
return to the guide of my youth. And, since thou hast
honoured me with a place in thy visible church, I humbly
hope thou wilt not reject me now, when I would sincerely
consecrate myself to thee, and become thy servant in
reality, as well as in appearance." In this sense the plea
might be used with peculiar propriety by the Jews, who
had been nationally adopted as the peculiar people of God.

In whatever sense we understand the words, they con-
vey to us this important truth, that the awakened sinner
is obliged to take all his encouragement from God, and
not from himself. All his trust is in the divine mercy,
and he is brought to a happy self-despair.

Having viewed Ephraim under the preparatory work of
legal conviction, and the dawn of evangelical repentance,
let us view him,

II. As reflecting upon the suprising efficacy of grace he
had sought, and which was bestowed upon him in answer
to his prayer.

We left him just now crying, Turn thou me, and I shall

368 THE DIVINE MERCY

be turned; here we find him actually turned. Surely
after that I was turned, I repented. When the Lord ex-
erts his power to subdue the stubbornness of the sinner,
and sweetly to allure him to himself, then the sinner re-
pents ; then his heart dissolves in ingenuous, disinterested
relentings. His sorrow and concern before conversion
are forced and mercenary ; they are occasioned only by a
selfish fear of punishment, and he would willingly get rid
of them, but now his grief is free and spontaneous ; it flows
from his heart as freely as streams from a fountain ; and
he takes pleasure in tender relentings before the Lord for
his sin ; he delights to be humble, and to feel his heart
dissolve within him. A heart of flesh, soft and susceptive
of impression, is his choice, and a stony, insensible heart a
great burden ; the more penitent the more happy, and the
more senseless, the more miserable he finds himself. Now
also his heart is actuated with a generous concern for the
glory of God; and he sees the horrid evil of sin as con-
trary to the holiness of God, and an ungrateful requital of
his uninterrupted beneficence.

We learn from this passage, that the true penitent is
sensible of a mighty turn in his temper and inclinations.
Surely after that I was turned, I repented. His whole
soul is turned from what he formerly delighted in, and
turned to what he had no relish for before. Particularly
his thoughts, his will, and affections are turned to God ;
there is a heavenly bias communicated to them which
draws them to holiness, like the law of gravitation in the
material world. There is indeed a new turn given to his
outward practice; the world may in some measure see
that he is a new man ; but this is not all ; the first spring
that turns all the wheels of the soul and actions of life is
the heart, and this is first set right. The change within
is as evident as that without, could our eyes penetrate the

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 369

heart. In short, If any man be in Christ, he is through-
out a new creature ; old things are passed away, and be-
hold, all things are become new.

Apply this touchstone to your hearts, my brethren, and
see if they will stand the test.

The penitent proceeds, After that I was instructed, I
smote upon my thigh. The same grace that turns him
does also instruct him ; nay, it is by discovering to him
the beauty of holiness, and the glory of God in the face
of Jesus Christ, that it draws him. He is brought out of
darkness into marvellous and astonishing light, that sur-
prises him with new discoveries of things : he is instructed
particularly, as to the necessity of turning to God, as to
the horrid ingratitude, vileness, and deformity of sin, and
as to his folly and wickedness in continuing so long alien-
ated from God. By the way, have you ever been let into
these secrets, my hearers ? And when instructed in these,

" He smites upon his thigh." This gesture denotes
consternation and amazement; and nature directs us thus
to express these passions. Ezekiel is enjoined to use this
gesture as a prophetic action, signifying the horror and as-
tonishment of his mind. Ezek. xxi. 12. This action, there-
fore, of the penitent, intimates what consternation and
amazement he is cast into, when these new discoveries
flash upon his soul. He stands amazed at himself. He
is struck with horror to think what an ungrateful, ignorant,
stupid wretch he has been all his life till this happy mo-
ment. " Alas ! what have I been doing ? abusing all my
days in ruining my own soul, and dishonouring the God
of all my mercies ! contentedly estranged from him, and
not seeking to return ! Where were my eyes, that I never
before saw the horrid evil of my conduct and the shocking
deformity of sin, which now opens to me in all its hideous
colours ! Amazing ! that divine vengeance has not broken

VOL. L— 47

370 THE DIVINE MERCY

out upon me before now? Can it be that I am yet alive !
in the land of hope too ! yea, alive, an humble pardoned
penitent ! Let heaven and earth wonder at this, for surely
the sun never shone upon a wretch so undeserving ! so
great a monument of mercy !"

The pardoned penitent proceeds — I was ashamed, yea,
even confounded, because I did bear the reproach of my
youth. We are ashamed when we are caught in a mean,
base and scandalous action ; we blush, and are confounded,
and know not where to look, or what to say. Thus the
penitent is heartily ashamed of himself, when he reflects
upon the sordid dispositions he has indulged, and the base
and scandalous actions he has committed. He blushes at
his own inspection ; he is confounded at his own tribunal.
He appears to himself, a mean, base, contemptible wretch ;
and, though the world may honour him, he loaths himself,
as viler than the earth he treads on ; and is secretly ashamed
to see the face of man. And how then shall he appear
before God 1 how shall he hold up his face in the presence
of his injured Father ? He comes to him ashamed, and
covering his head. He .knows not what to say to him;
he knows not how to look him in the face, but he falls
down abashed and confounded at his feet. Thus was peni-
tent Ezra ashamed before God. He fell upon his knees,
and lifted up his hands (his eyes, like the publican, he
durst not lift up) unto the heavens, and he says, 0 my God,
I am ashamed, and blush to lift up my face to thee, my
God ! for our iniquities are increased over our heads, and
our trespass is grown up unto the heavens. And now, 0
our God, what shall we say after this ? for we have for-
saken thy commandments. Ezra ix. 5-10. Thus it was
foretold concerning the repenting Jews. Then thou shalt
remember thy ways and be ashamed. Thou shalt be con-
founded and never open thy mouth any more, because of

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 371

thy shame. Ezek. xvi. 61-63. There is good reason for
this conscious shame, and therefore it is enjoined as a duty :
Not for your sakes do I this, saith the Lord God, be it
known unto you : be ashamed and confounded for your
own ways, 0 house of Israel. Ezek. xxxvi. 32.

And what is the cause of this shame in the mourning
penitent? Oh, says he, it is because I bear the reproach
of my youth. " I carry upon me (as the original word
signifies) the brand of infamy. My youth, alas ! was
spent in a thoughtless neglect of God and the duties I
owed him ; my vigorous days were wasted in sensual ex-
travagances, and gratifying my criminal inclinations. My
prime of life, which should have been sacred to the author
of my existence, was spent in rebellion against him. Alas !
my first thoughts, my virgin love, did not aspire to him ;
nor did my young desires, as soon as fledged, wing their
flight to heaven. In short, the temper of my heart, and
my course of my life, from the first exercises of reason to
this happy hour of my conversion, were a disgrace to my
rational nature ; I have degraded myself beneath the beasts
that perish." Behold, I am vile ; I loath and abhor my-
self for all my pithiness and abominations. Ezek. xxxvi.
31. "And how amazing the grace of God to honour so
base a wretch with a place among the children of his
love !"

Thus I have delineated the heart of penitent Ephraim ;
and let me ask you, my brethren, is this your picture?
Have you ever felt such ingenuous relentings, such just
consternation, such holy shame and confusion? There
can be no transition from nature to grace, without previous
concern, &c. You all bear the reproach of that youth,
you have all spent some unhappy days in the scandalous
ways of sin, and your consciences still bear the brand of
infamy. And have you ever been made deeply sensible

372 THE DIVINE MERCY

of it? Has God ever heard you bemoaning yourselves
thus in some mournful solitude, " Thou hast chastised me,
and I was chastised, as a bullock unaccustomed to the
yoke." Is there any such mourner here this day? then
listen to the gracious voice of your heavenly Father,
while,

III. I am illustrating the last, the sweetest part of the
text, which expresses the tender compassion of God to-
wards mourning penitents.

While they are bemoaning their case, and conscious that
they do not deserve one look of love from God, he is re-
presented as attentively listening to catch the first pentiten-
tial groan that breaks from their hearts. Ephraim, in the
depth of his despondency, probably did hardly hope that
God took any notice of his secret sorrows, which he sup-
pressed as much as possible from the public view : but
God heard him, God was watching to hear the first mourn-
ful cry ; and he repeats all his complaints, to let him know
(after the manner of men) what particular notice he had
taken of them. " / have surely heard, or hearing I have
heard :" that is, " I have attentively heard Ephraim be-
moaning himself thus."

What strong consolation may this give to desponding
mourners, who think themselves neglected by that God to
whom they are pouring out their weeping supplications !
He hears your secret groans, he courts your sighs, and
puts your tears into his bottle. His eyes penetrate all the
secrets of your heart, and he observes all their feeble strug-
gles to turn to himself; and he beholds you not as an un-
concerned spectator, but with all the tender emotions of
fatherly compassion : for,

While he is listening to Ephraim's mournful complaints,
he abruptly breaks in upon him, and sweetly surprises him
with the warmest declarations of pity and grace. " Is

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 373

this Ephraim, my dear son, whose mourning voice I hear ;
Is this my pleasant child, or (as it might be rendered) the
child of my delights, who thus wounds my ear with his
heart-rending groans?" What strange language this to an
ungrateful, unyielding rebel, that continued obstinate till he
was wearied out ; that would not turn till drawn ; that de-
served to fall a victim to justice ! This is the language of
compassion all divine, of grace that becomes a God.

This passage contains a most encouraging truth, that,
however vile and abandoned a sinner has been, yet upon
his repentance, he becomes God's dear son, his favourite
child. He will, from that moment, regard him, provide
for him, protect him, and bring him to his heavenly inhe-
ritance, as his son and heir ; for " Neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things pre-
sent, nor things to come," &c. Rom. viii. 38, &c., shall
separate him from his father's love but " he shall inherit
all things." Rev. xxi. 7. Yea, all things are his already in
title, and he shall be made " greater than the kings of the
earth ;" he shall be made such as becomes so dignified a
relation as that of a Son to the King of kings, and Lord
of lords.

And is not this magnet sufficient to attract all this as-
sembly to their Father's house? Can you resist the
almighty energy of such compassion ? Return, ye perish-
ing prodigals ! Return j though you have sinned against
Heaven, and before your Father, and are no more worthy
to be catted his sons, yet return, and you shall be made his
dear sons, his pleasant children.

Are none of you in need of such strong consolation as
this? Do you want encouragement to return, and are
you ready to spring up and run to your Father's arms
upon the first assurance of acceptance ? If this be what
you want, you have an abundance for your supply. Are

374 THE DIVINE MERCY

all your souls then in motion to return ? Does that eye
which darts through the whole creation at once, now be-
hold your hearts moving towards God 1 Or am I wast-
ing these gracious encouragements upon stupid creatures,
void of sensation, that do not care for them, or that are so
conceited of their own worth, as not to need them 1 If so,
I retract these consolations, with respect to you, and shall
presently tell you your doom. But let us further pursue
these melting strains of paternal pity.

" For since I spake against him, I do earnestly remem-
ber him still." Many and dreadful were the threatenings
denounced against the sinner, while impenitent ; and, had
he continued impenitent, they would certainly have been
executed upon him. But the primary and immediate de-
sign of the threatenings are to make men happy, and not
to make them miserable ; they are designed to deter them
from disobedience, which is naturally productive of misery,
or to reclaim them from it, which is but to restrain them
in their career to ruin. And consequently these threat-
enings proceed from love as well as the promises of our
God, from love to the person, though from hatred to sin.
So the same love which prompts a parent to promise a
reward to his son for obedience, will prompt him also to
threaten him, if he takes some dangerous weapon to play
with : or, to choose a more pertinent illustration, for God
is the moral ruler as well as the father of the rational
world ; the same regard to the public weal, which induces
a lawgiver to annex a reward to obedience, will also
prompt him to add penalties to his law to deter from diso-
bedience ; and his immediate design is not to make any of
his subjects miserable, but to keep them from making
themselves and others miserable by disobedience ; though
when the threatening is once denounced, it is necessary it
should be executed, to vindicate the veracity of the law-

TO MOURNING' PENITENTS. 375

giver, and secure his government from insult and contempt.
Thus when the primary end of the divine threatenings,
namely, the deterring and reclaiming men from disobe-
dience, is not obtained, then it becomes necessary that they
should be executed upon the impenitent in all their dread-
ful extent; but when the sinner is brought to repentance,
and to submit to the divine government, then all these
threatenings are repealed, and they shall not hurt one hair
of his head. And the sinner himself will acknowledge
that these threatenings proved necessary mercies to him,
and that the denunciation of everlasting punishment was
one means of bringing him to everlasting happiness, and
that divine vengeance in this sense conspired with divine
grace to save him.

Consider this, ye desponding penitents, and allay your
terrors. That God, who has written such bitter things
against you in his word, earnestly and affectionately re-
members you still, and it was with a kind intent to you
that he thundered out these terrors at which you tremble.
These acids, this bitter physic, were necessary for your
recovery. These coals of fire were necessary to awaken
you out of your lethargy. Therefore read the love of
your Father, even in these solemn warnings. He affec-
tionately remembers you still; he cannot put you out of
his thoughts.

Therefore my bowels (adds the all-gracious Jehovah) are
troubled for him. Astonishing beyond conception ! how
can we bear up under such words as these ? Surely they
must break our hearts, and overwhelm our spirits ! Here
is the great God, who has millions of superior beings to
serve him, and who is absolutely independent upon them
all, troubled, his very bowels troubled, for a rebellious,
useless, trifling worm ! Be astonished at this, ye angels of
light, who are the witnesses of such amazing, such un-

376 THE DIVINE MERCY

bounded compassion ; and wonder at it, O ye sons of men,
who are more intimately concerned in it, stand and adore,
as it were, in statues of admiration ! It is true these words
are not to be taken literally, as though the Deity were
capable of sorrow, or any of the human passions : but he
here condescends to adapt himself to the language of mor-
tals, and to borrow such images as will convey to us the
most lively ideas of his grace and tenderness to mourning
penitents ; and no image can answer this end better than
that of a father, whose bowels are yearning over his mourn-
ing child, prostrate at his feet, and who, with eager em-
braces, raises him up, assuring him of pardon and accept-
ance. If any of you now know what it is to receive a
penitent child in this manner, while all the father is ten-
derly working within you, you may form some affecting
ideas of the readiness of our heavenly Father to receive
returning sinners from this tender illustration.

The Lord concludes this moving speech with a promise
that includes in it more than we can ask or think, sealed
with his own sacred name. I will surely have mercy, or,
(according to the more emphatical original) with mercy,
I will have mercy upon him saith the Lord ; this is, I will
show abundant mercy to him, I will give him all the bless-
ings that infinite mercy can bestow; and what can be
needed more 1 This promise includes pardon, acceptance,
sanctification, joy in the Holy Ghost, peace of conscience,
and immortal life and glory in the future world. Oh sirs !
what a God, what a Father is this ! Who is a God like
unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity, &c. Micah vii. 18.

And can you, ye mourners in Zion, can you fear a re-
jection from such a tender Father? Can you dread to
venture upon such abundant mercies ? Is there a mourn-
ing Ephraim in this assembly ? I may call you, as God
did Adam, Ephraim, where art thou? Let the word

TO MOURNING PENITENTS. 377

of God find you out, and force a little encouragement
upon you ; your heavenly Father, whose angry hand you
fear, is listening to your groans, and will measure you out
a mercy for every groan, a blessing for every sigh, a drop,
a draught of consolation for every tear. His bowels are
moving over you, and he addresses you in such language
as this, " Is this my dear son ? is this my pleasant
child?"

And as to you, ye hardy impenitents, ye abandoned pro-
fligates, ye careless formalists, ye almost Christians, can
you hear these things, and not begin now to relent ? Do
you not find your frozen hearts begin to thaw within you?
Can you resist such alluring grace ? Can you bear the
thoughts of continuing enemies to so good, so forgiving a
Father ? Does not Ephraim's petition now rise to your
hearts, Turn thou me, and I shall be turned ? then I con-
gratulate you upon this happy day ; you are this day be-
come God's dear sons, the children of his delights.

Is there a wretch so senseless, so wicked, so abandoned,
as to refuse to return ? Where art thou, hardy rebel ?
Stand forth and meet the terrors of thy doom. To thee
I must change my voice, and instead of representing the
tender compassions of a father, must denounce the terrors
of an angry judge. Thy doom is declared and fixed by
the same lips that speak to penitents in such encouraging
strains ; by those gracious lips that never uttered a harsh
censure. God is angry with thee every day. Psal. vii.
11. Except thou repentest, thou shalt surely perish. Luke
xiii. 3. The example of Christ authorizes me to repeat it
again ; " Except thou repentest, thou shalt surely perish,"
ver. 5. " The God that made thee will destroy thee ; and
he that formed thee will show thee no favour." Isa. xxvi.
11. "Thou art treasuring up wrath in horrid affluence
against the day of wrath." Rom. ii. 5. " God is jealous,

VOL. I.— 48

378 THE DIVINE MERCY TO MOURNING PENITENTS.

and the LORD revengeth; the LORD revengeth, and is
furious; the LORD will take vengeance on his adversaries;
and he reserveth wrath for his enemies. The mountains
quake at him, and the hills melt, and the earth is burnt at
his presence : yea, the world, and they that dwell therein.
Who can stand before his indignation 1 Who can abide
in the fierceness of his anger 1 His fury is poured out
like fire, and the rocks are thrown down by him." Nahum
i. 2-6. These flaming thunderbolts, sinners, are aimed at
thy heart, and if thou canst harden thyself against their
terror, let me read thee thy doom before we part. You
have it pronounced by God himself in Deuteronomy, the
twenty-ninth chapter, at the nineteenth and the following
verses, " If it come to pass, when he heareth the words of
this curse, that he bless himself in his heart, saying, I shall
have peace, though I walk in the imagination of my heart,
The Lord will not spare him : but then the anger of the
Lord and his jealousy shall smoke against that man, and all
the curses that are written in this book shall lie upon him,
and the LORD shall blot out his name from under heaven.
And the LORD shall separate him unto evil out of all the
tribes of Israel, according to all the curses of the covenant
that are written in this book of the law." And now, sin-
ner, if thou canst return home careless and senseless with
this heavy curse upon thee, expect not a word of comfort,
expect no blessing till thou art made truly penitent ; for
" how shall I bless whom God has not blessed ?" The
ministerial blessing falls upon one on thy right hand, and
one on thy left, but it lights not upon thee. The curse is
thy lot, and this must thou have at the hand of God, if
thou continuest hardened and insolent in sin. Thou must
lie down in sorrow. Isa. 1. 11. Consider this, ye that for-
get God, lest he tear you in pieces, and there be none to
deliver. Psal. 1. 22.

CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 379

SERMON XIV.

CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS.

1 PETER ii. 7. — Unto you therefore which believe, He is

precious.9

YES; blessed be God; though a great part of the
creation is disaffected to Jesus Christ; though fallen spirits,
both in flesh and without flesh, both upon earth and in
hell, neglect him or profess themselves open enemies to
him, yet he is precious ; precious not only in himself, not
only to his Father, not only to the choirs of heaven, who
behold his full glory without a veil, but precious to some
even in our guilty world ; precious to a sort of persons of
our sinful race, who make no great figure in mortal eyes,
who have no idea of their own goodness; who are mean,
unworthy creatures, in their own view, and who are
generally despicable in the view of others; I mean he is
precious to all true believers. And though they are but
few comparatively in our world; though there are, I am
afraid, but few additions made to them from among us;
yet, blessed be God, there are some believers even upon
our guilty globe; and I doubt not but I am now speaking
to some such.

My believing brethren, (if I may venture to claim
kindred with you,) I am now entering upon a design,
which I know you have much at heart: and that is, to
make the blessed Jesus more precious to you, and if pos-

* Or preciousneas in the abstract, n^iij.

380 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

sible, to recommend him to the affections of the crowd
that neglect him. You know, alas! you love him but
little; but very little, compared to his infinite excellency
and your obligations to him ; and you know that multitudes
love him not at all. Whatever they profess, their practice
shows that their carnal minds are enmity against him.
This you often see, and the sight affects your hearts. It
deeply affects you to think so much excellency should be
neglected and despised, and so much love meet with such
base returns of ingratitude. And you cannot but pity
your poor fellow sinners, that they are so blind to the
brightest glory and their own highest interest, and that
they should perish, through wilful neglect of their deliverer ;
perish, as it were, within reach of the hand stretched out
to save them. This is indeed a very affecting, very
lamentable, and alas! a very common sight. And will
you not then bid me God-speed this day in my attempt to
recommend this precious, though neglected, Jesus? Will
you not contribute your share towards my success in so
pious and benevolent a design by your earnest prayers ?
Now, shall not the interceding sigh rise to heaven from
every heart, and every soul be cast into a praying posture ?
I shall hope to discharge my duty with more comfort and
advantage, if you afford me this assistance. And surely
such of you cannot deny me this aid, who desire that Jesus
may become still more precious to your own hearts, and
that he may be the object of universal love from all the
sons of men, who are now disaffected to him.

To you that believe, he is precious — He ? Who ? Is it
mammon, the god of the world 1 Is it pleasure, or honour ?
No; none of these is the darling of the believing heart.
But it is he who is the uppermost in every pious heart ;
he, who is first in the thoughts and affections; he whom
every friend of his must know, even without a name ; if it

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 381

be but said of him, he is precious, this is enough to dis-
tinguish him from all others. "If it be he the apostle
means," may every believer say, " who is most precious to
my soul, then I can easily point him out, though without
a name. It must be Jesus, for oh! it is he that is most
precious to me." The connection also of the text directs
us to the same person. It is he the apostle means, whom
he had just described as a living stone, chosen of God,
and precious; the chief corner-stone, the great foundation
of the church, that spiritual temple of God, so stately
and glorious, and reaching from earth to heaven ; it is this
precious stone, this heavenly jewel, that is precious to be-
lievers.

" To you that believe, he is precious" i. e., he is highly
valued by you. You esteem him one of infinite worth,
and he has the highest place in your affections. He is
dearer to your hearts than all other persons and things. The
word rep/} requires a still stronger translation : " To you that
believe, he is preciousness ;" preciousness in the abstract;
all preciousness, and nothing but preciousness; a precious
stone without one blemish. Or it may be translated with
a little variation, "To you that believe, he is honour." It
confers the highest honour upon you to be related to him ;
and you esteem it your highest honour to sustain that re-
lation. Though Jesus and his cross are names of re-
proach in the unbelieving world, you glory in them, and
they reflect a real glory upon you. Or, "To you that
believe, there is honour."* Honour is now conferred
upon you in your being built as living stones in the temple
of God upon this precious foundation; and honour is re-
served for you in heaven, where the crown of righteous-
ness awaits you.

* The pronoun he, is not in the original ; but the passage reads thus : To
you who believe, honour.

380 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

sible, to recommend him to the affections of the crowd
that neglect him. You know, alas! you love him but
little ; but very little, compared to his infinite excellency
and your obligations to him; and you know that multitudes
love him not at all. Whatever they profess, their practice
shows that their carnal minds are enmity against him.
This you often see, and the sight affects your hearts. It
deeply affects you to think so much excellency should be
neglected and despised, and so much love meet with such
base returns of ingratitude. And you cannot but pity
your poor fellow sinners, that they are so blind to the
brightest glory and their own highest interest, and that
they should perish, through wilful neglect of their deliverer ;
perish, as it were, within reach of the hand stretched out
to save them. This is indeed a very affecting, very
lamentable, and alas! a very common sight. And will
you not then bid me God-speed this day in my attempt to
recommend this precious, though neglected, Jesus? Will
you not contribute your share towards my success in so
pious and benevolent a design by your earnest prayers ?
Now, shall not the interceding sigh rise to heaven from
every heart, and every soul be cast into a praying posture ?
I shall hope to discharge my duty with more comfort and
advantage, if you afford me this assistance. And surely
such of you cannot deny me this aid, who desire that Jesus
may become still more precious to your own hearts, and
that he may be the object of universal love from all the
sons of men, who are now disaffected to him.

To you that believe, he is precious — He ? Who ? Is it
mammon, the god of the world ? Is it pleasure, or honour ?
No; none of these is the darling of the believing heart.
But it is he who is the uppermost in every pious heart ;
he, who is first in the thoughts and affections; he whom
every friend of his must know, even without a name ; if it

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS.

be but said of him, he is precious, this is enough to dis-
tinguish him from all others. "If it be he the apostle
means," may every believer say, "who is most precious to
my soul, then I can easily point him out, though without
a name. It must be Jesus, for oh! it is he that is most
precious to me." The connection also of the text directs
us to the same person. It is he the apostle means, whom
he had just described as a living stone, chosen of God,
and precious; the chief corner-stone, the great foundation
of the church, that spiritual temple of God, so stately
and glorious, and reaching from earth to heaven ; it is this
precious stone, this heavenly jewel, that is precious to be-
lievers.

" To you that believe, he is precious" i. e., he is highly
valued by you. You esteem him one of infinite worth,
and he has the highest place in your affections. He is
dearer to your hearts than all other persons and things. The
word Tiny requires a still stronger translation : " To you that
believe, he is preciousness ;" preciousness in the abstract;
all preciousness, and nothing but preciousness; a precious
stone without one blemish. Or it may be translated with
a little variation, "To you that believe, he is honour." It
confers the highest honour upon you to be related to him;
and you esteem it your highest honour to sustain that re-
lation. Though Jesus and his cross are names of re-
proach in the unbelieving world, you glory in them, and
they reflect a real glory upon you. Or, "To you that
believe, there is honour."* Honour is now conferred
upon you in your being built as living stones in the temple
of God upon this precious foundation; and honour is re-
served for you in heaven, where the crown of righteous-
ness awaits you.

* The pronoun he, is not in the original ; but the passage reads thus : To
you who believe, honour.

382 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

" To you which believe, he is precious ;" that is to say,
the value of this precious stone is, alas ! unknown to the
crowd. It is so far from being precious, that it is a stone
of stumbling, and a rock of offence; a stone disallowed of
men, (v. 4,) rejected even by the builders, (v. 7,) but you
believers, ye happy few, have another estimate of it.
Faith enables you to see the glories of the blessed Jesus ;
and, when you know him through this medium, you can-
not but love him. The blind world neglect the Lord of
glory, because they know him not: but you believers know
him, and therefore to you he is precious. Faith presents
him to your view in a just light, and directs you to form a
proper estimate of him. It is truly lamentable that such
real excellency should be despised ; but so it will be with
the world till they believe. The mere speculative recom-
mendation of their reason, the prepossessions of education
in his favour, and the best human means, are not sufficient
to render Jesus precious to them. Nothing but saving
faith can effect this.

To you therefore which believe he is precious. The
illative particle, therefore, shows this passage is an in-
ference from what went before; and the reasoning seems
to be this : " This stone is precious to God, therefore it is
precious to you that believe. You have the same estimate
of Jesus Christ which God the Father has ; and for that
very reason he is precious to you, because he is precious
to him." That this is the connection will appear, if you
look back to the 4th and 6th verses; where you find Jesus
described as "a chief corner-stone, laid in Zion, elect or
chosen, and precious; disallowed, indeed, of men, but
chosen of God, and precious."* Men wickedly disapprove

*The word used in ver. 4 and 6 is a compound, rendered "precious" in
the text. And this is an intimation that the text is an inference from the
above verses.

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 383

this stone, and even many of the professed builders of his
church reject him. This, says the apostle, must be
granted. But this is no objection to his real worth. He
is precious to God, who knows him best, and who is a
perfect judge of real excellency; and for that very reason
he is precious to you that believe. Faith teaches you to
look upon persons and things in the same light in which
God views them ; it makes your sentiments conformed to
his. Christ is the Father's beloved son, in whom he is
well pleased ; and he is your beloved Saviour, in whom
you are well pleased.

Is it any wonder that Jesus should be precious to be-
lievers, when he is so precious in himself, and in his of-
fices, so precious to the angelic hosts, and so precious to
his Father?

1. He is precious in himself. He is Immanuel, God-
man ; and consequently, whatever excellencies belong either
to the divine or human nature, centre in him. If wisdom,
power, and goodness, divine or human, created or uncre-
ated, can render him worthy of the highest affection, he
has a just claim to it. Whatever excellencies, natural or
moral, appear in any part of the vast universe, they are
but faint shadows of his beauty and glory. All things
were created by him, and for him : and he is before all
things, and by him all things consist; Col. i. 16, 17.
And whatever excellencies are in the effect must be emi-
nently in the cause. You do not wonder nor censure,
when you see men delighted with the glories of the sun,
and the various luminaries of the sky ; you do not wonder
nor blame when they take pleasure in the beautiful pros-
pects of nature, or in that rich variety of good things,
which earth, and sea, and every element furnishes for the
support of man, or the gratification of his senses : you do
not wonder and blame, when they are struck with moral

384 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

beauty, when you see them admire and approve wisdom,
benevolence, justice, veracity, meekness, and mercy; you
never think it strange, much less censurable, that men
should love these things, and count them precious ; and
can you be astonished, can you ridicule or find fault, that
Jesus is precious to poor believers ? If the copy be so
fair and lovely, who would not love the original, that has
eyes to behold it ? Believers see so much of the worth
of Christ as is sufficient to captivate their hearts, and to
convince them of their guilt in loving him no more ; and
the clearer their views are of him, the more they are mor-
tified at the criminal defects of their love ; for oh, they see
he deserves infinitely more!

2. The Lord Jesus is precious in his offices. His me-
diatorial office is generally subdivided into three parts,
namely, that of a Prophet, of a Priest, and of a King:
and how precious is Christ in each of these !

As a Prophet, how sweet are his instructions to a be-
wildered soul ! How precious the words of his lips, which
are the words of eternal life ! How delightful to sit and
hear him teach the way of duty and happiness, revealing
the Father, and the wonders of the invisible state ! How
transporting to hear him declare upon what terms an of-
fended God may be reconciled ! a discovery beyond the
searches of all the sages and philosophers of the heathen
world ! How reviving is it to listen to his gracious pro-
mises and invitations ! promises and invitations to the poor,
the weary, and heavy-laden, to the broken-hearted, and
even to the chief of sinners ! The word of Christ has
been the treasure, the support, and the joy of believers in
all ages. "I have esteemed the words of his 'mouth,"
says Job, "more than my necessary food," Job xxiii. 12.
It is this precious word the Psalmist so often and so highly
celebrates. He celebrates it as " more to be desired than

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 385

gold ; yea, than much fine gold ; sweeter also than honey,
and the honey-comb," Psalm xix. 10. " Oh how I love
thy law !" says he : " it is my meditation all the day,"
Psalm cxix. 97. " How sweet are thy words unto my
taste ! yea sweeter than honey to my mo'uth," ver. 103.
" The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands
of gold and silver," ver. 72. " Behold, I have longed
after thy precepts," ver. 40. " Thy statutes have been
my songs in the house of my pilgrimage," ver. 54. " In
my affliction, thy word hath quickened me," ver. 50.
" Unless thy law had been my delights, I should then have
perished in my affliction," ver. 92. This is the language
of David, in honour of this divine Prophet, near three
thousand years ago, when Christ had not revealed the full
gospel to the world, but only some rays of it shone through
the veil of the Mosaic dispensation. And must not be-
lievers now, who live under the more complete and clear
instructions of the great Prophet, entertain the same sen-
timents of him ? Yes, to such of you as believe, even in
this age, he is most precious.

But this external objective instruction is not all that
Christ as a Prophet communicates; and, indeed, did he do
no more than this, it would answer no valuable end. The
mind of man, in his present fallen state, like a disordered
eye, is incapable of perceiving divine things in a proper
light, however clearly they are revealed ; and therefore,
till the perceiving faculty be rectified, all external revela-
tion is in vain, and is only like opening a fair prospect to
a blind eye. Hence this great Prophet carries his instruc-
tion further, not only by proposing divine things in a clear
objective light by his word, but inwardly enlightening the
mind, and enabling it to perceive what is revealed by his
Spirit. And how precious are these internal subjective

instructions ! How sweet to feel a disordered, dark mind
VOL. I.— 49

386 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

opening to admit the shinings of heavenly day; to perceive
the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, the beauties
of holiness, and the majestic wonders of the eternal world !
Speak, ye that know by happy experience, and tell how
precious Jesus appears to you, when, by his own blessed
Spirit, he scatters the cloud that benighted your under-
standings, and lets in the rays of his glory upon your ad-
miring souls ; when he opens your eyes to see the won-
ders contained in his law, and the glorious mysteries of
his gospel. What a divine glory does then spread upon
every page of the sacred volume ! Then it indeed ap-
pears the book of God, God-like, and worthy its Author.
Oh, precious Jesus ! let us all this day feel thine enlight-
ening influences, that experience may teach us how sweet
they are! Come, great Prophet! come, and make thine
own Spirit our teacher, and then shall we be divinely
wise.

Again, the Lord Jesus is precious to believers as a great
High Priest. As a High Priest, he made complete atone-
ment for sin by his propitiatory sacrifice on the cross ; and
he still makes intercession for the transgressors on his
throne in heaven. It was his sacrifice that satisfied the
demands of the law and justice of God, and rendered him
reconcilable to the guilty, upon terms consistent with his
honour and the rights of his government. It was by virtue
of this sacrifice that he procured pardon for sin, the favour
of God, freedom from hell, and eternal life for condemned,
obnoxious rebels. And such of you, who have ever felt
the pangs of a guilty conscience, and obtained relief from
Jesus Christ, can tell how precious is his atoning sacrifice.
How did it ease your self-tormenting consciences, and heal
your broken hearts ! How did it change the frowns of
an angry God into smiles of love, and your trembling ap-
prehensions of vengeance into delightful hopes of mercy !

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 387

How precious did Jesus appear, with a pardon in his hand,
with atoning blood gushing from his opened veins, and
making his cross, as it were, the key to open the gates of
heaven for your admission ! Blessed Saviour ! our great
High Priest ! thus appear to us with all thy robes, dyed
in thine own blood, and cause us all to feel the efficacy of
thy propitiation.

Let us next turn our eyes upwards, and view this great
High Priest as our Intercessor in the presence of God.
There he appears as a lamb that was slain, bearing the
memorials of his sacrifice, and putting the Father in re-
membrance of the blessings purchased for his people.
There he urges it as his pleasure, as his authoritative will,
that these blessings should in due time be conferred upon
those for whom they were purchased. In this authorita-
tive manner he could intercede even in the days of his
humiliation upon earth, because of the Father's covenant
engagements with him, the accomplishment of which he
has a right to demand, as well as humbly to petition :
" Father, I will — I will, that they also whom thou hast
given me, be with me where I am ; that they may behold
my glory," John xvii. 24. Now how precious must Christ
appear in the character of Intercessor ! That the friend-
less sinner should have an all-prevailing advocate in the
court of heaven to undertake his cause ! that the great
High Priest should offer up the grateful incense of his own
merit, with the prayers of the saints! that he should add
the sanction of his authoritative will to the humble peti-
tion of faith ! that he should urge the claims of his people,
as his own claims, founded upon an unchangeable covenant
with his Father, of which he has fully performed the con-
ditions required! that he should not intercede occasionally,
but always appear in the holy of holies as the constant
ever-living Intercessor, and maintain the same interest, the

388 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

same importunity at all times, even when the petitions of
his people languish upon their lips ! What delightful re-
flections are these ! and how warmly may they recommend
the Lord Jesus to the hearts of believers ! How just is
the apostle's inference, " Having an High Priest over the
house of God, let us draw near with a true heart, in full
assurance of faith ; and let us hold fast the profession of
our faith without wavering." Heb. x. 21-23. u He is
able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God
by him;" for this reason, because "he ever liveth to make
intercession for them." Heb. vii. 25. May each of us
intrust his cause to this all-prevailing Advocate, and we
shall certainly gain it! The unchangeable promise has
passed his lips, " that whatsoever we ask the Father in his
name, he will give it us." John xvi. 23.

Let me add, the kingly office of Christ is precious to
believers. As King he gives laws, laws perfectly wise
and good, and enforced with the most important sanc-
tions, everlasting rewards and punishments. And how
delightful, how advantageous, to live under such a govern-
ment ! to have our duty discovered with so much clear-
ness and certainty which frees us from so many painful
anxieties, and to have such powerful motives to obedience,
which have a tendency to infuse vigour and spirit into our
endeavours ! As King, he appoints ordinances of worship.
And how sweet to converse with him in these ordinances,
and to be freed from perplexity about that manner of
worship which God will accept, without being exposed to
that question, so confounding to will-worshippers, Who hath
required this at your hands ? As King, he is head over
all things to his church, and manages the whole creation,
as is most subservient to her good. The various ranks of
creatures in heaven, earth and hell, are subject to his di-
rection and control ; and they must all co-operate for the

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 389

good of his people. He reclaims, confounds, subdues, or
destroys their enemies, according to his pleasure. And
how precious must he be in this august character to the
feeble helpless believer ! To have an almighty friend sit-
ting at the helm of the universe, with the supreme man-
agement of all things in his hands ; to be assured that even
the most injurious enemy can do the believer no real or
lasting injury, but shall at length concur to work his great-
est good ; and that, come what will, it shall go well with
him, and he shall at last be made triumphant over all diffi-
culty and opposition. Oh! what transporting considera-
tions are here ! But this is not the whole exercise of the
royal power of Christ. He not only makes laws and or-
dinances, and restrains the enemies of his people, but he
exercises his power inwardly upon their hearts. He is
the King of souls ; he reigns in the hearts of his subjects ;
and how infinitely dear and precious is he in this view !
To feel him subdue the rebellion within, sweetly bending
the stubborn heart into willing obedience, and reducing
every thought into a cheerful captivity to himself, writing
his law upon the heart, making the dispositions of his sub-
jects a transcript of his will, corresponding to it, like wax
to the seal, how delightful is all this ! Oh the pleasures
of humble submission ! How pleasant to lie as subjects at
the feet of this mediatorial King without arrogating the
sovereignty to ourselves, for which we are utterly insuffi-
cient ! Blessed Jesus ! thus reign in our hearts thus sub-
due the nations to the obedience of faith ! " Gird thy
sword upon thy thigh, O most Mighty ! and ride prosper-
ously, attend with majesty, truth, meekness, and righte-
ousness." Psalm xlv. 3, 4. " Send the rod of thy strength
out of Sion : rule thou in the midst of thine enemies,"
Psalm ex. 2, rule us, and subdue the rebel in our hearts.
Thus you see the Lord Jesus is precious to believers in

390 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

all the views of his mediatorial office. But he is not pre-
cious to them alone : he is beloved as far as known, and
the more known the more beloved : which leads me to add,

3. He is precious to all the angels of heaven.

St. Peter tells us that the things now reported to us
by the gospel are things which the angels desire to look
into, 1 Pet. i. 12. Jesus is the wonder of angels now in
heaven; and he was so even when he appeared in the
form of a servant upon earth. St. Paul mentions it as one
part of the great mystery of godliness, that God manifested
in the flesh was seen of angels. 1 Tim. iii. 16. Angels
saw him, and admired and loved him in the various stages
of his life, from his birth to his return to his native heaven.
Hear the manner in which angels celebrated his entrance
into our world. One of them spread his wings and flew
with joyful haste to a company of poor shepherds that
kept their midnight watches in the field, and abruptly tells
the news, of which his heart was full : " Behold, I bring
you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people;
for to you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour,
which is Christ the Lord: and suddenly there was with
the angel a multitude of the heavenly host." Crowds of
angels left their stations in the celestial court in that me-
morable hour, and hovered over the place where their in-
carnate God lay in a manager : Jesus, their darling, was
gone down to earth, and they must follow him ; for who
would not be where Jesus is 1 Men, ungrateful men, were
silent upon that occasion, but angels tuned their song of
praise. The astonished shepherds heard them sing,
" Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-
will to men." Luke ii. 10-14. When he bringeth his
first born into the world, the Father saith, Let all the
angels of God worship him, Heb. i. 6. This seems to in-
timate that all the angels crowded round the manger,

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 391

where the Infant-God lay, and paid him their humble
worship. We are told, that when the devil had finished
his long process of temptations, after forty days, and had
left him, the angels came and ministered unto him. Matt,
iv. 11. When this disagreeable companion had left him,
his old attendants were fond of renewing their service to
him. In every hour of difficulty they were ready to fly
to his aid. He was seen of angels, in his hard conflict, in
the garden of Gethsemane ; and one of them " appeared
unto him from heaven, strengthening him." Luke xxii. 43.
With what wonder, sympathy and readiness, did this an-
gelic assistant raise his prostrate Lord from the cold
ground, wipe off his bloody sweat, and support his sinking
spirit with divine encouragements! But oh! ye blessed
angels, ye usual spectators, and adorers of the divine glo-
ries of our Redeemer, with what astonishment and horror
were you struck, when you saw him expire on the cross !

" Around the bloody tree
Ye press'd with strong desire,
That wondrous sight to see,
The Lord of life expire !

And could your eyes

Have known a tear,

Had dropt it there

In sad surprise."*

Ye also hovered round his tomb, while he lay in the
prison of the grave. The weeping women and his other
friends found you stationed there in their early impatient
visits to the sepulchre ! Oh what wonders then appeared
to your astonished minds ! Could you, that pry so deep into
the secrets of heaven, you that know so well what divine
love can do, could you have thought that even divine love
could have gone so far ? could have laid the Lord of glory
a pale, mangled, senseless corpse in the mansions of the

* Dodd ridge.

392 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

dead? Was not this a strange surprise even to you?
And, when the appointed day began to dawn, with what
eager and joyful haste did ye roll away the stone, and set
open the prison doors, that the rising Conqueror might
march forth !

" And when arrayed in light,
The shining conqueror rode,
Te hail'd his rapturous flight
Up to the throne of God ;

And wav'd around

Your golden wings,

And struck your strings

Of sweetest sound.*

When he ascended on high, he was attended " with the
chariots of God, which are twenty thousand, even thou-
sands of angels." Psalm Ixviii. 17, 18. And now, when
he is returned to dwell among them, Jesus is still the dar-
ling of angels. His name sounds from all their harps, and
his love is the subject of their everlasting song. St. John
once heard them, and I hope we shall ere long hear them,
saying with a loud voice, " Worthy is the Lamb that was
slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing." Rev. v. 11,
12. This is the song of angels, as well as of the redeemed
from among men :

"Jesus the Lord, their harps employs;

Jesus, my love, they sing ;
Jesus, the name of both our joys,
Sounds sweet from every string. "•(•

Oh my brethren, could we see what is doing in heaven
at this instant, how would it surprise, astonish, and con-
found us ? Do you think the name of Jesus is of as lit-

* An excellent hymn of Dr. Doddridge's on 1 Tim. iii. 16. — Seen of
Angels,
f Watts' Hor. Lyric.

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 393

tie importance there as in the world? Do you think
there is one lukewarm or disaffected heart there among
ten thousand times ten thousand of thousands of thousands ?
Oh no ! there his love is the ruling passion of every heart,
and the favourite theme of every song. And is he so pre-
cious to angels ? to angels, who are less interested in him,
and less indebted to him ? And must he not be precious
to poor believers bought with his blood, and entitled to
life by his death 1 Yes, you that believe have an angelic
spirit in this respect; you love Jesus, though unseen, as
well as they who see him as he is, though alas ! in a far
less degree. But to bring his worth to the highest stand-
ard of all, I add,

4. He is infinitely precious to his Father, who tho-
roughly knows him, and is an infallible judge of real
worth. He proclaimed more than once from the excel-
lent glory, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well
pleased ; hear ye him. Behold," says he, " my servant
whom I uphold ; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth."
Isa. xlii. 1. He is called by the names of the tenderest
endearment; his Son, his own Son, his dear Son, the Son
of his love. He is a stone disallowed indeed of men ; if
their approbation were the true standard of merit, he
must be looked upon as a very worthless, insignificant
being, unworthy of their thoughts and affections. But let
men form what estimate of him they please, he is chosen
of God, and precious. And shall not the love of the om-
niscient God have weight with believers to love him too ?
Yes, the apostle expressly draws the consequence ; he is
precious to God, therefore to you that believe, he is pre-
cious. It is the characteristic of even the meanest be-
liever, that he is God-like. He is a partaker of the di-
vine nature, and therefore views things, in some measure,
as God does; and is affected towards them as God is,

VOL. I.— 50

394 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

though there be an infinite difference as to the degree.
He prevailingly loves what God loves, and that because
God loves it.

And now, my hearers, what think you of Christ ? Will
you not think of him as believers do 1 If so, he will be
precious to your hearts above all things for the future.
Or if you disregard this standard of excellence, as being
but the estimate of fallible creatures, will you not think
of him as angels do; angels, those bright intelligences, to
whom he reveals his unveiled glories, who are more capa-
ble of perceiving and judging of him, and who therefore
must know him better than you ; angels, who have had a
long acquaintance with him at home, if I may so speak,
for near six thousand years, as God, i. e. ever since their
creation, and for near two thousand years as God-man ?
Since angels then, who know him so thoroughly, love him
so highly, certainly you may safely venture to love him ;
you might safely venture to love him implicitly, upon their
word. He died for you, which is more than eve'r he did
for them, and will you not love him after all this love ?
It is not the mode to think much of him in our world, but
it is the mode in heaven. Yes, blessed be God, if he be
despised and rejected of men, he is not despised and re-
jected of angels. Angels, that know him best, love him
above all, and as far as their capacity will allow, do justice
to his merit ; and this is a very comfortable thought to a
heart broken with a sense of the neglect and contempt he
meets with among men. Blessed Jesus ! may not one
congregation be got together, even upon our guilty earth;
that shall in this respect be like the angels, all lovers of
thee ? Oh ! why should this be impossible, while they are
all so much in need of thee, all so much obliged to thee,
and thou art so lovely in thyself! Why, my brethren,
should not this congregation be made of such, and such

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 395

only as are lovers of Jesus ? Why should he not be pre-
cious to every one of you, rich and poor, old and young,
white and black 1 What reason can any one of you give
why you in particular should neglect him ? I am sure
you can give none. And will you, without any reason,
dissent from all the angels in heaven, in a point of which
they must be the most competent judges 1 Will you dif-
fer from them, and agree in your sentiments of Christ with
the ghosts of hell, his implacable, but conquered and mis-
erable enemies?

If all this has no weight with you, let me ask you farther,
will you not agree to that estimate of Jesus which his
Father has of him ? Will you run counter to the supreme
reason ? Will you set up yourselves as wiser than Om-
niscience ? How must Jehovah resent it to see a worm
at his footstool daring to despise him, whom he loves so
highly ! Oh let him be precious to you, because he is so
to God, who knows him best.

But I am shocked at my own attempt. Oh precious
Jesus ! are matters come to that pass in our world, that
creatures bought with thy blood, creatures that owe all
their hopes to thee, should stand in need of persuasions to
love thee ] What horrors attend the thought ! However,
blessed be God, there are some, even among men, to whom
he is precious. This world is not entirely peopled with
the despisers of Christ. To as many of you as believe,
he is precious, though to none else.

Would you know the reason of this ? I will tell you :
None but believers have eyes to see his glory, none but
they are sensible of their need of him, and none but they
have learned from experience how precious he is.

1. None but believers have eyes to see the glory of
Christ. As the knowledge of Christ is entirely from re-
velation, an avowed unbeliever who rejects that revelation,

396 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

can have no right knowledge of him, and therefore must
be entirely indifferent towards him, as one unknown, or
must despise and abhor him as an enthusiast or impostor.
But one, who is not an unbeliever in profession or specu-
lation, may yet be destitute of that faith which constitutes
a true believer, and which renders Jesus precious to the
soul. Even devils are very orthodox in speculation; devils
believe and tremble ; and they could cry out, " What have
we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth ? We know
thee, who thou art, the holy one of God." Mark i. 24.
And there are crowds among us who believe, after a fashion,
that Christ is the true Messiah, who yet show by their
practices that they neglect him in their hearts, and are not
believers in the full import of the character. True faith
includes not only a speculative knowledge and belief, but
a clear, affecting, realizing view, and a hearty approbation
of the things known and believed concerning Jesus Christ;
and such a view, such an approbation, cannot be produced
by any human means, but only by the enlightening influ-
ence of the holy Spirit shining into the heart. Without
such a faith as this, the mind is all dark and blind as to the
glory of Jesus Christ; it can see no beauty in him, that
he should be desired. Honourable and sublime specula-
tions concerning him may hover in the understanding, and
the tongue may pronounce many pompous panegyrics in
his praise, but the understanding has no realizing, affecting
views of his excellency ; nor does the heart delight in him
and love him as infinitely precious and lovely. The god
of this world, the prince of darkness, has blinded the minds
of them that believe not, lest the light of the glorious gos-
pel of Christ should shine into them. But as to the en-
lightened believer, God, who first commanded light to
shine out of darkness, has shined into his heart, to give
him the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 397

the face of Jesus Christ. This divine illumination pierces
the cloud that obscured his understanding, and enables
him to view the Lord Jesus in a strong and striking light;
a light entirely different from that of the crowd around
him ; a light, in which it is impossible to view this glorious
object without loving him. A believer and an unbeliever
may be equally orthodox in speculation, and have the same
notions in theory concerning Jesus Christ, and yet it is
certainly true, that their views of him are vastly different.
Believers, do you think that, if the Christ-despising multi-
tude around you had the same views of his worth and
preciousness which you have, they could neglect him, as
they do ? It is impossible. You could once neglect him,
as others do now ; you were no more charmed with his
beauty than they. But oh ! when you were brought out
of darkness into God's marvellous light, when the glories
of the neglected Saviour broke in upon your astonished
minds, then was it possible for you to withhold your love
from him 1 Were not your hearts captivated with delight-
ful violence 1 You could no more resist. Did not your
hearts then as naturally and freely love him, whom they
had once disgusted, as ever they loved a dear child or a
friend, or the sweetest created enjoyment ? The improv-
ing your reason into faith is setting the disordered eye of
the mind right, that it may be able to see this subject; and
when once you viewed it with this eye of reason restored
and improved, how did the precious stone sparkle before
you, and charm you with its brilliancy and excellence ?
Christ is one of those things unseen and hoped for, of
which St. Paul says, faith is the substance and evidence.
Heb. xi. 1. Faith gives Christ a present subsistence in
the mind, not as a majestic phantom, but as the most glo-
rious and important reality: and this faith is a clear, af-
fecting demonstration, or conviction, of his existence, and

398 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

of his being in reality what his word represents him. It
is by such a faith, that is, under its habitual influence, that
the believer lives ; and hence, while he lives, Jesus is still
precious to him.

2. None but believers are properly sensible of their
need of Christ. They are deeply sensible of their igno-
rance and the disorder of their understanding, and there-
fore they are sensible of their want of both the external
and internal instructions of this divine prophet. But as to
others, they are puffed up with intellectual pride, and ap-
prehended themselves in very little need of religious in-
structions; and therefore they think but very slightly of
him. Believers feel themselves guilty, destitute of all
righteousness, and incapable of making atonement for
their sins, or recommending themselves to God, and there-
fore the satisfaction and righteousness of Jesus Christ are
most precious to them, and they rejoice in him as their
all-prevailing Intercessor. But as to the unbelieving
crowd, they have no such mortifying thoughts of them-
selves! they have so many excuses to make for their sins,
that they bring down their guilt to a very trifling thing,
hardly worthy of divine resentment: and they magnify
their good works to such a height, that they imagine they
will nearly balance their bad, and procure them some
favour at least from God, and therefore they must look
upon this High Priest as needless. They also love to be
free from the restraints of religion, and to have the com-
mand of themselves. They would usurp the power of
self-government, and make their own pleasure their rule;
and therefore the Lord Jesus Christ, as a King, is so far
from being precious, that he is very unacceptable to such
obstinate, headstrong rebels. They choose to have no
lawgiver, but their own wills; and therefore they trample
upon his laws, and, as it were, form insurrections against

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 399

his government. But the poor believer, sensible of his in-
capacity for self-government, loves to be under direction,
and delights to feel the dependent, submissive, pliant spirit
of a subject. He counts it a mercy not to have the
management of himself, and feels his need of this media-
torial King to rule him. He hates the rebel within, hates
every insurrection of sin, and longs to have it entirely
subdued, and every thought, every motion of his soul
brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ; and
therefore he feels the need of his royal power to make an
entire conquest of his hostile spirit. His commands are
not. uneasy impositions, but most acceptable and friendly
directions to him; and the prohibitions of his law are not
painful restraints, but a kind of privileges in his esteem.
The language of his heart is, "Precious Jesus! be thou
my King. I love to live in humble subjection to thee. I
would voluntarily submit myself to thy control and direc-
tion. Thy will, and not mine be done! Oh subdue
every rebellious principle within, and make me all resig-
nation and cheerful obedience to thee!" To such a soul
it is no wonder Jesus should be exceedingly precious : but
oh how different is this spirit from that which generally
prevails in the world? Let me add but one reason more
why Jesus is precious to believers, and them only; namely,
3. None but believers have known by experience how
precious he is. They, and only they, can reflect upon
the glorious views of him, which themselves have had, to
captivate their hearts for ever to him. They, and only
they, have known what it is to feel a bleeding heart healed
by his gentle hand; and a clamorous languishing con-
science pacified by his atoning blood. They, and only
they, know by experience how sweet it is to feel his love
shed abroad in their hearts, to feel a heart, ravished with
his glory, pant, and long, and breathe after him, and ex-

400 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

erting the various acts of faith, desire, joy, and hope to-
wards him. They, and only they, know by experience
how pleasant it is to converse with him in his ordinances,
and to spend an hour of devotion in some retirement, as it
were, in his company. They, and only they, have ex-
perienced the exertions of his royal power, conquering
their mightiest sins, and sweetly subduing them to him-
self. These are, in some measure, matters of experience
with every true believer, and therefore it is no wonder
Jesus should be precious to them. But as to the unbe-
lieving multitude, poor creatures ! they are entire strangers
to these things. They may have some superficial notions
of them floating in their heads, but they have never felt
them in their hearts, and therefore the infinitely precious
Lord Jesus is a worthless, insignificant being to them : and
thus, alas ! it will be with the unhappy creatures, until ex-
perience becomes their teacher; until they taste for them-
selves that the Lord is gracious. ] Pet. ii. 3.

There is an interesting question, which, I doubt not,
has risen in the minds of such of you as have heard what
has been said with a particular application to yourselves,
and keeps you in a painful suspense: with an answer to
which I shall conclude : " Am I indeed a true believer ?"
may some of you say; "and is Christ precious to me?
My satisfaction in this sweet subject is vastly abated, till
this subject is solved. Sometimes, I humbly think, the
evidence is in my favour, and I begin to hope that he is
indeed precious to my soul; but alas, my love for him
soon languishes, and then my doubts and fears return, and
I know not what to do, nor what to think of myself."
Do not some of you, my brethren, long to have this per-
plexing case .cleared up ? Oh, what would you not give,
if you might return home this evening fully satisfied in
this point? Well, I would willingly help you, for ex-

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 401

perience has taught me to sympathize with you under this
difficulty. Oh my heart! how often hast thou been sus-
picious of thyself in this respect? The readiest way I
can now take to clear up the matter is to answer another
question, naturally resulting from my subject; and that is,
"How does that high esteem which a believer has for
Jesus Christ discover itself? Or how does he show that
Christ is indeed precious to him?" I answer, he shows
it in various ways; particularly by his affectionate thoughts
of him, which often rise in his mind, and always find
welcome there. He discovers that Jesus is precious to
him by hating and resisting whatever is displeasing to him,
and by parting with every thing that comes in competition
with him. He will let all go rather than part with Christ.
Honour, reputation, ease, riches, pleasure, and even life
itself, are nothing to him in comparison of Christ, and he
will run the risk of all; nay, will actually lose all, if he
may but win Christ. He discovers his high esteem for
him by the pleasure he takes in feeling his heart suitably
affected towards him, and by his uneasiness when it is
otherwise. Oh! when he can love Jesus, when his
thoughts affectionately clasp around him, and when he has
a heart to serve him, then he is happy, his soul is well,
and he is lively and cheerful. But, alas ! when it is other-
wise with him, when his love languishes, when his heart
hardens, when it becomes out of order for his service, then
he grows uneasy and discontented, and cannot be at rest.
When Jesus favours him with his gracious presence, and
revives him with his influence, how does he rejoice? But
when his beloved withdraws himself and is gone, how
does he lament his absence, and long for his return ! He
weeps and cries like a bereaved, deserted orphan, and
moans like a loving turtle in the absence of its mate.
Because Christ is so precious to him, he cannot bear the

VOL. I.— 51

402 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO

thought of parting with him, and the least jealousy of his
love pierces his very heart. Because he loves him, he
longs for the full enjoyment of him, and is ravished with
the prospect of him. Because Christ is precious to him,
his interests are so too, and he longs to see his kingdom
flourish, and all men fired with his love. Because he
loves him, he loves his ordinances; loves to hear, because
it is the word of Jesus ; loves to pray, because it is main-
taining intercourse with Jesus; loves to sit at his table,
because it is a memorial of Jesus; and loves his people,
because they love Jesus. Whatever has a relation to his
precious Saviour is for that reason precious to him; and
when he feels anything of a contrary disposition, alas! it
grieves him, and makes him abhor himself. These things
are sufficient to show that the Lord Jesus has his heart,
and is indeed precious to him; and is not this the very
picture of some trembling, doubting souls among you?
If it be, take courage. After so many vain searches, you
have at length discovered the welcome secret, that Christ
is indeed precious to you: and if so, you may be sure
that you are precious to him. " They shall be mine, saith
the LORD, in that day when I make up my jewels."
Mai. iii. 17. If you are now satisfied, after thorough trial
of the case, retain your hope, and let not every dis-
couraging appearance renew your jealousies again ; labour
to be steady and firm Christians, and do not stagger
through unbelief.

But, alas! I fear that many of you know nothing ex-
perimentally of the exercises of a believing heart, which
I have been describing, and consequently that Christ is
not precious to you. If this is the case, you may be
sure indeed you are hateful to him. He is angry with
the wicked every day. "Them that honour him, he will
honour; and them that despise him shall be lightly

ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 403

esteemed." 1 Sam. ii. 30. And what will you do if
Christ should become your enemy and fight against you ?
If this precious stone should become a stone of stumbling
and a rock of offence to you, over which you will fall
into ruin, oh how dreadful must the fall be ! What must
you expect but to lie down in unutterable and everlasting

sorrow

404 THE DANGER OF

SERMON XV.

THE DANGER OF LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION.

REV. iii. 15, 16. — I know thy works, that thou art neither
cold nor hot ; I would thou wert cold or hot. So then,
because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I
will spew thee out of my mouth.

THE soul of man is endowed with such active powers,
that it cannot be idle ; and, if we look round the world,
we see it all alive and busy in some pursuit or other.
What vigorous action, what labour and toil, what hurry,
noise, and commotion about the necessaries of life, about
riches and honours ! Here men are in earnest : here
there is no dissimulation, no indifferency about the event.
They sincerely desire, and eagerly strive for these tran-
sient delights, or vain embellishments of a mortal life.

And may we infer farther, that creatures, thus formed
for action, and thus laborious and unwearied in these infe-
rior pursuits, are proportionably vigorous and in earnest in
matters of infinitely greater importance? May we con-
clude, that they proportion their labour and activity to the
nature of things, and that they are most in earnest where
they are most concerned? A stranger to our world, that
could conclude nothing concerning the conduct of mankind
but from the generous presumptions of his own charitable
heart, might persuade himself that this is the case. But
one that has been but a little while conversant with them,
and taken the least notice of their temper and practice

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 405

with regard to that most interesting thing, Religion, must
know it is quite otherwise. For look round you, and
what do you see? Here and there indeed you may see a
few unfashionable creatures, who act as if they looked
upon religion to be the most interesting concern ; and who
seem determined, let others do as they will, to make sure
of salvation, whatever becomes of them in other respects ;
but as to the generality, they are very indifferent about it.
They will not indeed renounce all religion entirely ; they
will make some little profession of the religion that hap-
pens to be most modish and reputable in their country,
and they will conform to some of its institutions ; but it is
a matter of indifferency with them, and they are but little
concerned about it; or in the language of my text, they
are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot.

This threatening, I will spew thee out of my mouth, has
been long ago executed with a dreadful severity upon the
Laodicean church ; and it is now succeeded by a mongrel
race of Pagans and Mahometans ; and the name of Christ
is not heard among them. But, though this church has
been demolished for so many hundreds of years, that luke-
warmness of spirit in religion which brought this judg-
ment upon them, still lives, and possesses the Christians of
our age ; it may therefore be expedient for us to consider
Christ's friendly warning to them, that we may escape
their doom.

The epistles to the seven churches in Asia are intro-
duced with this solemn and striking preface, " I know thy
works :" that is to say, your character is drawn by one that
thoroughly knows you ; one who inspects all your conduct,
and takes notice of you when you take no notice of your-
selves ; one that cannot be imposed upon by an empty pro-
fession and artifice, but searches the heart and the reins. Oh
that this truth were deeply impressed upon our hearts : for

406 THE DANGER OF

surely we could not trifle and offend while sensible that we
are under the eye of our Judge !

/ know thy works, says he to the Laodicean church,
that thou art neither cold nor hot. This church was in a
very bad condition, and Christ reproves her with the grav-
est severity ;* and yet we do not find her charged with the
practice or toleration of any gross immoralities, as some
of the other churches were. She is not censured for in-
dulging fornication among her members, or communicating
with idolaters in eating things sacrificed to idols, like some
of the rest. She was free from the infection of the Nico-
laitans, which had spread among them. What then is her
charge? It is a subtle, latent wickedness, that has no
shocking appearance, that makes no gross blemish in the
outward character of a professor in the view of others, and
may escape his own notice ; it is, Thou art lukewarm, and
neither cold nor not : as if our Lord had said, Thou dost
not entirely renounce and openly disregard the Christian
religion, and thou dost not make it a serious business, and
mind it as thy grand concern. Thou hast a form of god-
liness, but deniest the power. All thy religion is a dull
languid thing, a mere indifferency ; thine heart is not in it ;
it is not animated with the fervour of thy spirit. Thou
hast neither the coldness of the profligate sinner, nor the
sacred fire and life of the true Christian ; but thou keep-
est a sort of medium between them. In some things thou
resemblest the one, in other things the other; as luke-
warmness partakes of the nature both of heat and cold.

Now such a lukewarmness is an eternal solecism in re-
ligion ; it is the most absurd and inconsistent thing imagi-
nable : more so than avowed impiety, or a professed rejec-

* She was as loathsome to him as lukewarm water to the stomach, and ho
characterizes her as " wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and
naked." What condition can be more deplorable and dangerous?

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 407

tion of all religion : therefore, says Christ, I would thou
wert cold or hot — i. e., " You might be any thing more
consistently than what you are. If you looked upon reli-
gion as a cheat, and openly rejected the profession of it, it
would not be strange that you should be careless about it,
and disregard it in practice. But to own it true, and make
a profession of it, and yet be lukewarm and indifferent
about it, this is the most absurd conduct that can be con-
ceived ; for, if it be true, it is certainly the most important
and interesting truth in all the world, and requires the
utmost exertion of all your powers."

When Christ expresses his abhorrence of lukewarmness
in the form of a wish, / would thou wert cold or hot, we
are not to suppose his meaning to be, that coldness or fer-
vour in religion is equally acceptable, or that coldness is
at all acceptable to him ; for reason and revelation concur
to assure us, that the open rejection and avowed contempt
of religion is an aggravated wickedness, as well as an
hypocritical profession. But our Lord's design is to ex-
press, in the strongest manner possible, how odious and
abominable their lukewarmness was to him ; as if he should
say, " Your state is so bad, that you cannot change for the
worse ; I would rather you were any thing than what you
are." You are ready to observe, that the lukewarm pro-
fessor is in reality wicked and corrupt at heart, a slave to
sin, and an enemy to God, as well as the avowed sinner;
and therefore they are both hateful in the sight of God,
and both in a state of condemnation. But there are some
aggravations peculiar to the lukewarm professor that ren-
der him peculiarly odious; as, 1. He adds the sin of a
hypocritical profession to his other sins. The wickedness
of real irreligion, and the wickedness of falsely pretending
to be religious, meet and centre in him at once. 2. To
all this he adds the guilt of presumption, pride, and self-

408 THE DANGER OF

flattery, imagining he is in a safe state and in favour with
God; whereas he that makes no pretensions to religion,
has no such umbrage for this conceit and delusion. Thus
the miserable Laodiceans "thought themselves rich, and
increased in goods, and in need of nothing." 3. Hence
it follows, that the lukewarm professor is in the most dan-
gerous condition, as he is not liable to conviction, nor so
likely to be brought to repentance. Thus publicans and
harlots received the gospel more readily than the self-
righteous Pharisees. 4. The honour of God and religion
is more injured by the negligent, unconscientious beha-
viour of these Laodiceans, than by the vices of those who
make no pretensions to religion; with whom therefore its
honour has no connection. On these accounts you see
lukewarmness is more aggravatedly sinful and dangerous
than entire coldness about religion.

So then, says Christ, "Because thou art lukewarm^
and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my
mouth;" this is their doom; as if he should say, "As
lukewarm water is more disagreeable to the stomach than
either cold or hot, so you, of all others, are the most
abominable to me. I am quite sick of such professors,
and I will cast them out of my church, and reject them
for ever."

My present design is to expose the peculiar absurdity
and wickedness of lukewarmness or indifferency in reli-
gion ; a disease that has spread its deadly contagion far and
wide among us, and calls for a speedy cure. And let me
previously observe to you, that if I do not offer you suf-
ficient arguments to convince your own reason of the ab-
surdity and wickedness of such a temper, then you may
still indulge it; but that if my arguments are sufficient,
then shake off your sloth, and be fervent in spirit; and if
you neglect your duty, be it at your peril.

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 409

In illustrating this point I shall proceed upon this plain
principle, " That religion is, of all things, the most impor-
tant in itself, and the most interesting to us." This we
cannot deny, without openly pronouncing it an imposture.
If there be a God, as religion teaches us, he is the most
glorious, the most venerable, and the most lovely Being;
and nothing can be so important to us as his favour, and
nothing so terrible as his displeasure. If he be our Maker,
our Benefactor, our Lawgiver and Judge, it must be our
greatest concern to serve him with all our might. If Jesus
Christ be such a Saviour as our religion represents, and
we profess to believe, he demands our warmest love and
most lively service. If eternity, if heaven and hell, and
the final judgment, are realities, they are certainly the
most august, the most awful, important, and interesting
realities : and, in comparison of them, the most weighty
concerns of the present life are but trifles, dreams, and
shadows. If prayer and other religious exercises are our
duty, certainly they require all the vigour of our souls ; and
nothing can be more absurd or incongruous than to per-
form them in a languid, spiritless manner, as if we knew
not what we were about. If there be any life within us,
these are proper objects to call it forth : if our souls are
endowed with active powers, here are objects that demand
their utmost exertion. Here we can never be so much in
earnest as the case requires. Trifle about anything, but
oh do not trifle here ! Be careless and indifferent about
crowns and kingdoms, about health, life, and all the world,
but oh be not careless and indifferent about such immense
concerns as these !

But to be more particular : let us take a view of a luke-
warm temper in various attitudes, or with respect to several
objects, particularly towards God — towards Jesus Christ — a
future state of happiness or misery — and in the duties of

VOL. I.— '>2

410 THE DANGER OF

religion; and in each of these views we cannot but be
shocked at so monstrous a temper, especially if we con-
sider our difficulties and dangers in a religious life, and the
eagerness and activity of mankind in inferior pursuits.

1. Consider who and what God is. He is the original
uncreated beauty, the sum total of all natural and moral
perfections, the origin of all the excellencies that are scat-
tered through this glorious universe ; he is the supreme good,
and the only proper portion for our immortal spirits. He
also sustains the most majestic and endearing relations to us :
our Father, our Preserver and Benefactor, our Lawgiver and
our Judge. And is such a Being to be put off with heartless,
lukewarm services ? What can be more absurd, or impi-
ous than to dishonour supreme excellency and beauty with
a languid love and esteem ; to trifle in the presence of the
most venerable Majesty ; to treat the best of Beings with in-
differency ; to be careless about our duty to such a Father ;
to return such a Benefactor only insipid complimental ex-
pressions of gratitude ; to be dull and spiritless in obedience
to such a lawgiver ; and to be indifferent about the favour
or displeasure of such a Judge ! I appeal to heaven and
earth, if this be not the most shocking conduct imaginable.
Does not your reason pronounce it horrid and most dar-
ingly wicked ? And yet thus is the great and blessed God
treated by the generality of mankind. It is most astonish-
ing that he should bear with such treatment so long, and
that, mankind themselves are not shocked at it : but such the
case really is. And are there not some lukewarm Laodi-
ceans in this assembly 1 Jesus knows your works, that
you are neither cold nor hot ; and it is fit you should also
know them. May you not be convinced upon a little
inquiry, that your hearts are habitually indifferent towards
God ? You may indeed entertain a speculative esteem or
a good opinion of him, but are your souls alive towards

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 411

him ? Do they burn with his love ? and are you fervent
in spirit when you are serving him ? Some of you, I
hope, amid all your infirmities, can give comfortable an-
swers to these inquiries. But alas ! how few ! But yet
as to such of you as are lukewarm, and neither cold nor
hot, you are the most abominable creatures upon earth to
a holy God. Be zealous, be warm, therefore, and repent.
(ver. 19.)

2. Is lukewarmness a proper temper towards Jesus
Christ? Is this a suitable return for that love which
brought him down from his native paradise into our
wretched world 1 That love which kept his mind for
thirty-three painful and tedious years intent upon this one
object, the salvation of sinners? That love "which ren-
dered him cheerfully patient of the shame, the curse, the
tortures of crucifiction, and all the agonies of the most
painful death ? That love which makes him the sinner's
friend still in the courts of heaven, where he appears as
our prevailing Advocate and Intercessor ? Blessed Jesus !
is lukewarmness a proper return to thee for all this kind-
ness ? No ; methinks devils cannot treat thee worse.
My fellow-mortals, my fellow-sinners, who are the objects
of all this love, can you put him off with languid devotions
and faint services ? Then every grateful and generous
passion is extinct in your souls, and you are qualified to
venture upon every form of ingratitude and baseness. Oh
was Christ indifferent about your salvation ? Was his love
lukewarm towards you ? No : your salvation was the ob-
ject of his most intense application night and day through
the whole course of his life, and it lay nearest his heart in
the agonies of death. For this he had a baptism to be
baptized with, a baptism, an immersion in tears and blood;
and how am I straitened, says he, till it be accomplished !
For this with desire, he desired to eat his last passover,

412 THE DANGER OF

because it introduced the last scene of his sufferings. His
love ! what shall I say of it ? What language can describe
its strength and ardour 1 " His love was strong as death :
the coals thereof were as coals of fire, which had a most
vehement flame : many waters could not quench it, nor the
floods drown it." Cant. viii. 6, 7. Never did a tender
mother love her sucking child with a love equal to his.
Never was a father more anxious to rescue an only son
from the hands of a murderer, or to pluck him out of the
fire than Jesus was to save perishing sinners. Now to
neglect him after all ; to forget him ; or to think of him
with indifferency, as though he were a being of but little
importance, and we but little obliged to him, what is all
this but the most unnatural, barbarous ingratitude, and the
most shocking wickedness ? Do you not expect everlast-
ing happiness from him purchased at the expense of his
blood ? And can you hope for such an immense blessing
from him without feeling yourselves most sensibly obliged
to him ? Can you hope he will do so much for you, and
can you be content to do nothing for him, or to go through
his service with lukewarmness and languor, as if you cared
not how you hurried through it, or how little you had to
do with it1? Can anything be more absurd or impious
than this ? Methinks you may defy hell to show a worse
temper. May not Christ justly wish you were either cold
or hot ; wish you were anything rather than thus lukewarm
towards him under a profession of friendship ? Alas ! my
brethren, if this be your habitual temper, instead of being
saved by him, you may expect he will reject you with the
most nauseating disgust and abhorrence. But,

3. Is lukewarmness and indifferency a suitable temper
with respect to a future state of happiness or misery ? Is
it a suitable temper with respect to a happiness far exceed-
ing the utmost bounds of our present thoughts and wishes;

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 413

a happiness equal to the largest capacities of our souls in
their most improved and perfect state ; a happiness beyond
the grave, when all the enjoyments of this transitory life
have taken an eternal flight from us, and leave us hungry
and famishing for ever, if these be our only portion ; a
happiness that will last as long as our immortal spirits, and
never fade or fly from us ? Or are lukewarmness and in-
diflferency a suitable temper with respect to a misery beyond
expression, beyond conception dreadful ; a misery inflicted
by a God of almighty power and inexorable justice upon a
number of obstinate, incorrigible rebels for numberless, wilful
and daring provocations, inflicted on purpose to show his
wrath and make his power known ; a misery proceeding from
the united fury of divine indignation, of turbulent passions,
of a guilty conscience, of malicious tormenting devils ; a
misery (who can bear up under the horror of the thought?)
that shall last as long as the eternal God shall live to in-
flict it; as long as sin shall continue evil to deserve it; as
long as an immortal spirit shall endure to bear it ; a misery
that shall never be mitigated, never intermitted, never,
never, never see an end? And remember, that a state of
happiness or misery is not far remote from us, but near
us, just before us ; the next year, the next hour, or the
next moment, we may enter into it; is a state for which
we are now candidates, now upon trial ; now our eternal
all lies at stake ; and oh, sirs, does an inactive, careless pos-
ture become us in such a situation? Is a state of such
happiness, or such misery, is such a state just — just before
us, a matter of indifferency to us? Oh can you be luke-
warm about such matters? Was ever such a prodigious
stupidity seen under the canopy of heaven, or even in the
regions of hell, which abound with monstrous and horrid
dispositions ? No ; the hardiest ghost below cannot make
light of these things. Mortals ! can you trifle about them ?

414 THE DANGER OF

Well, trifle a little longer, and your trifling will be over,
for ever. You may be indifferent about the improving
of your time ; but time is not indifferent whether to pass
by or not : it is determined to continue its rapid course,
and hurry you into the ocean of eternity, though you
should continue sleeping and dreaming through all the pas-
sage. Therefore awake, arise; exert yourselves before
your doom be unchangeably fixed. If you have any fire
within you, here let it burn ; if you have any active powers,
here let them be exerted ; here or nowhere, and on no
occasion. Be active, be in earnest where you should be ;
or debase or -sink yourselves into stocks and stones, and
escape the curse of being reasonable and active creatures.
Let the criminal, condemned to die to-morrow, be indif-
ferent about a reprieve or a pardon ; let a drowning man
be careless about catching at the only plank that can save
him : but oh do not you be careless and indifferent about
eternity, and such amazing realities as heaven and hell.
If you disbelieve these things you are infidels; if you be-
lieve these things, and yet are unaffected with them, you
are worse than infidels : you are a sort of shocking singu-
larities, and prodigies in nature. Not hell itself can find
a precedent of such a conduct. The devils believe, and
tremble; you believe, and trifle with things whose very
name strikes solemnity and awe through heaven and hell.
But,

4. Let us see how this lukewarm temper agrees with
the duties of religion. And as I cannot particularize them
all, I shall only mention an instance or two. View a luke-
warm professor in prayer ; he pays to an omniscient God
the compliment of a bended knee, as though he could im-
pose upon him with such an empty pretence. When he
is addressing the Supreme Majesty of heaven and earth, he
hardly ever recollects in whose presence he is, or whom

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 415

he is speaking to, but seems as if he were worshipping
without an object, or pouring out empty words into the
air : perhaps through the whole prayer he had not so much
as one solemn, affecting thought of that God whose name
he so often invoked. Here is a criminal petitioning for
pardon so carelessly, that he scarcely knows what he is
about. Here is a needy, famishing beggar pleading for
such immense blessings as everlasting salvation, and all the
joys of heaven, so lukewarmly and thoughtlessly, as if he
cared not whether his requests were granted or not. Here
is an obnoxious offender confessing his sins with a heart
untouched with sorrow : worshipping the living God with a
dead heart ; making great requests, but he forgets them as
soon as he rises from his knees, and is not at all inquisitive
what becomes of them, and whether they were accepted
or not. And can there be a more shocking, impious, and
daring conduct than this? To trifle in the royal presence
would not be such an audacious affront. For a criminal
to catch flies, or sport with a feather, when pleading with
his judge for his pardon, would be but a faint shadow of
such religious trifling. What are such prayers but solemn
mockeries and disguised insults? And yet, is not this the
usual method in which many of you address the great God ?
The words proceed no further than from your tongue : you
do not pour them out from the bottom of your hearts ;
they have no life or spirit in them, and you hardly ever
reflect upon their meaning. And when you have talked
away to God in this manner, you will have it to pass for a
prayer. But surely such prayers must bring down a curse
upon you instead of a blessing : such sacrifices must be an
abomination to the Lord : Prov. xv. 8 ; and it is astonish-
ing that he has not mingled your blood with your sacri-
fices, and sent you from your knees to hell ; from thought-
less, unmeaning prayer, to real blasphemy and torture.

416 THE DANGER OF

The next instance I shall mention is with regard to the
word of God. You own it divine, you profess it the
standard of your religion, and the most excellent book in
the world. Now, if this be the case, it is God that speaks
to you ; it is God that sends you an epistle when you are
reading or hearing his word. How impious and provok-
ing then must it be to neglect it, to let it lie by you as an
antiquated, useless book, or to read it in a careless, super-
ficial manner, and hear it with an inattentive, wandering
mind? How would you take it, if, when you spoke to
your servant about his own interest, he should turn away
from you, and not regard you? Or if you should write a
letter to your son, and he should not so much as carefully
read it, or labour to understand it? And do not some of
you treat the sacred oracles in this manner? You make
but little use of your Bible, but to teach your children to
read : or if you read or hear its contents yourselves, are
you not unaffected with them? One would think you
would be all attention and reverence to every word ; you
would drink it in, and thirst for it as new-born babes for
their mother's milk, you would feel its energy, and acquire
the character of that happy man to whom the God of
heaven vouchsafes to look; you would tremble at his
word. It reveals the only method of your salvation : it
contains the only charter of all your blessings. In short,
you have the nearest personal interest in it, and can you
be unconcerned hearers of it ? I am sure your reason and
conscience must condemn such stupidity and indifferency
as incongruous, and outrageously wicked.

And now let me remind you of the observation I made
when entering upon this subject, that if I should not offer
sufficient matter of conviction, you might go on in your
lukewarmness ; but if your own reason should be fully
convinced that such a temper is most wicked and unrea-

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 417

sonable, then you might indulge at your peril. What do
you say now is the issue? Ye modern Laodiceans, are
you not yet struck with horror at the thought of that in-
sipid, formal, spiritless religion you have hitherto been con-
tented with ? And do you not see the necessity of follow-
ing the advice of Christ to the Laodicean church, be zeal-
ous, be fervent for the future, and repent, bitterly repent
of what is past? To urge this the more, I have two con-
siderations in reserve, of no small weight. 1. Consider
the difficulties and dangers in your way. Oh, sirs, if you
know the difficulty of the work of your salvation, and the
great danger of miscarrying in it, you could not be so in-
different about it, nor could you flatter yourselves such
languid endeavours will ever succeed. It is a labour, a
striving, a race, a warfare; so it is called in the sacred
writings : but would there be any propriety in these ex-
pressions, if it were a course of sloth and inactivity?
Consider, you have strong lusts to be subdued, a hard
heart to be broken, a variety of graces, which you are en-
tirely destitute of, to be implanted and cherished, and that
in an unnatural soil, where they will not grow without
careful cultivation, and that you have many temptations to
be encountered and resisted. In short, you must be made
new men, quite other creatures than you now are. And
oh ! can this work be successfully performed while you
make such faint and feeble efforts? Indeed God is the
Agent, and all your best endeavours can never effect the
blessed revolution without him. But his assistance is not
to be expected in the neglect, or careless use of means,
nor is it intended to encourage idleness, but activity and
labour : and when he comes to work, he will soon inflame
your hearts, and put an end to your lukewarmness. Again,
your dangers are also great and numerous; you are in
danger from presumption and from despondency; from

VOL. I.— 53

>

418 THE DANGER O7

coldness, from lukewarmness, and from false fires and en-
thusiastic heats; in danger from self-righteousness, and
from open wickedness, from your own corrupt hearts,
from this ensnaring world, and from the temptations of
the devil : you are in great danger of sleeping on in secu-
rity, without ever being thoroughly awakened; or, if you
should be awakened, you are in danger of resting short of
vital religion ; and in either of these cases you are undone
for ever. In a word, dangers crowd thick around you
on every hand, from every quarter; dangers, into which
thousands, millions of your fellow-men have fallen and
never recovered. Indeed, all things considered, it is very
doubtful whether ever you will be saved, who are now
lukewarm and secure : I do not mean that your success is
uncertain if you be brought to use means with proper
earnestness ; but alas ! it is awfully uncertain whether ever
you will be brought to use them in this manner. And,
O sirs ! can you continue secure and inactive when you
have such difficulties to encounter with in a work of abso-
lute necessity, and when you are surrounded with so many
and so great dangers 1 Alas ! are you capable of such de-
structive madness? Oh that you knew the true state of
the case ! Such a knowledge would soon fire you with
the greatest ardour, and make you all life and vigour in
this important work.

2. Consider how earnest and active men are in other
pursuits. Should we form a judgment of the faculties of
human nature by the conduct of the generality in religion,
we should be apt to conclude that men are mere snails,
and that they have no active powers belonging to them.
But view them about other affairs, and you find they are
all life, fire, and hurry. What labour and toil! what
schemes and contrivances ! what solicitude about success !
what fears of disappointment! hands, heads, hearts, all

LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 419

busy. And all this to procure those enjoyments which at
best they cannot long retain, and which the next hour
may tear from them. To acquire a name or a diadem, to
obtain riches or honours, what hardships are undergone !
what dangers dared ! what rivers of blood shed ! how
many millions of lives have been lost! and how many
more endangered! In short the world is all alive, all in
motion with business. On sea and land, at home and
abroad, you will find men eagerly pursuing some temporal
good. They grow grey-headed, and die in the attempt
without reaching their end; but this disappointment does
not discourage the survivors and successors; still they will
continue, or renew the endeavour. Now here men act
like themselves; and they show they are alive, and en-
dowed with powers of great activity. And shall they be
thus zealous and laborious in the pursuit of earthly vanities,
and quite indifferent and sluggish in the infinitely more
important concerns of eternity ? What ! solicitous about a
mortal body, but careless about an immortal soul ! Eager
in pursuit of joys of a few years, but careless and remiss
in seeking an immortality of perfect happiness! Anxious
to avoid poverty, shame, sickness, pain, and all the evils,
real or imaginary, of the present life ; but indifferent about
a whole eternity of the most intolerable misery ! Oh, the
destructive folly, the daring wickedness of such a conduct !
My brethren, is religion the only thing which demands
the utmost exertion of all your powers, and alas ! is that
the only thing in which you will be dull and inactive ? Is
everlasting happiness the only thing about which you will
be remiss? Is eternal punishment the only misery which
you are indifferent whether you escape or not? Is God
the only good which you pursue with faint and lazy de-
sires? How preposterous ! how absurd is this ! You can
love the world, you can love a father, a child, or a friend;

420 THE DANGER OF

nay, you can love that abominable, hateful thing, sin : these
you can love with ardour, serve with pleasure, pursue with
eagerness, and with all your might; but the ever-blessed
God, and the Lord Jesus, your best friend, you put off
with a lukewarm heart and spiritless services. Oh inex-
pressibly monstrous! Lord, what is this that has befallen
thine own offspring, that they are so disaffected towards
thee? Blessed Jesus, what hast thou done that thou
shouldst be treated thus ? Oh sinners ! what will be the
consequence of such a conduct ? Will that God take you
into the bosom of his love? Will that Jesus save you by
his blood, whom you make so light of? No, you may go
and seek a heaven where you can find it; for God will
give you none. Go, shift for yourselves, or look out for
a Saviour where you will; Jesus will have nothing to do
with you, except to take care to inflict proper punishment
upon you if you retain this lukewarm temper towards him.
Hence, by way of improvement, learn,

1. The vanity and wickedness of a lukewarm religion.
Though you should profess the best religion that ever
came from heaven, it will not save you; nay, it will con-
demn you with peculiar aggravations if you are lukewarm
in it. This spirit of indifferency diffused through it, turns
it all into deadly poison. Your religious duties are all
abominable to God while the vigour of your spirits is not
exerted in them. Your prayers are insults, and he will
answer them as such by terrible things in righteousness.
And do any of you hope to be saved by such a religion?
I tell you from the God of truth, it will be so far from
saving you, that it will certainly ruin you for ever: con-
tinue as you are to the last, and you will be as certainly
damned to all eternity, as Judas, or Beelzebub, or any
ghost in hell. But alas!

2. How common, how fashionable is this lukewarm

LtTKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 421

religion! This is the prevailing, epidemical sin of our
age and country; and it is well if it has not the same fatal
effect upon us it had upon Laodicea; Laodicea lost its
liberty, its religion, and its all. Therefore let Virginia
hear and fear, and do no more so wickedly. We have
thousands of Christians, such as they are ; as many Chris-
tians as white men; but alas! they are generally of the
Laodicean stamp ; they are neither cold nor hot. But it
is our first concern to know how it is with ourselves;
therefore let this inquiry go round this congregation ; are
you not such lukewarm Christians ? Is there any fire and
life in your devotions ? Or are not all your active powers
engrossed by other pursuits ? Impartially make the in-
quiry, for infinitely more depends upon it than upon your
temporal life.

3. If you have hitherto been possessed with this Lao-
dicean spirit, I beseech you indulge it no longer. You
have seen that it mars all your religion, and will end in
your eternal ruin: and I hope you are not so hardened as
to be proof against the energy of this consideration.
Why halt you so long between two opinions ? J would
you were cold or hot. Either make thorough work of re-
ligion, or do not pretend to it. Why should you profess
a religion which is but an insipid indifferency with you ?
Such a religion is good for nothing. Therefore awake,
arise, exert yourselves. Strive to enter in at the strait
gate ; strive earnestly, or you are shut out for ever. In-
fuse heart and spirit into your religion. Whatever your
hand findeth to do, do it with your might. Now, this
moment, while my voice sounds in your ears, now begin
the vigorous enterprise. Now collqct all the vigour of
your souls and breathe it out in such a prayer as this,
" Lord, fire this heart with thy love." Prayer is a proper
introduction: for let me remind you of what I should

422 THE DANGER OF LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION.

never forget, that God is the only Author of this sacred
fire; it is only he that can quicken you; therefore, ye
poor careless creatures, fly to him in an agony of im-
portunity, and never desist, never grow weary till you
prevail.

4. And lastly : Let the best of us lament our lukewarm-
ness, and earnestly seek more fervour of spirit. Some of
you have a little life ; you enjoy some warm and vigorous
moments ; and oh ! they are divinely sweet. But reflect
how soon your spirits flag, your devotion cools, and your
zeal languishes. Think of this, and be humble : think of
this, and apply for more life. You know where to apply.
Christ is your life : therefore cry to him for the communi-
cation of it. " Lord Jesus ! a little more life, a little more
vital heat to a languishing soul." Take this method, and
"you shall run and not be weary; you shall walk and not
faint." Isaiah xl. 31.

DIVINE GOVERNMENT THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 423

SERMON XVI.

THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT THE JOY OF OUR WORLD.

PSALM xcvii. 1. — The LORD reigneth; let the earth rejoice ;
let the multitude of isles be glad thereof.

WISE and good rulers are justly accounted an extensive
blessing to their subjects. In a government where wisdom
sits at the helm; and justice, tempered with clemency,
holds the balance of retribution, liberty and property are
secured, encroaching ambition is checked, helpless inno-
cence is protected, and universal order is established, and
consequently peace and happiness diffuse their streams
through the land. In such a situation every heart must
rejoice, every countenance look cheerful, and every bosom
glow with gratitude to the happy instruments of such ex^
tended beneficence.

But, on the other hand, "Wo to thee, oh land, when
thy king is a child," Eccles. x. 16 ; weak, injudicious,
humorsome, and peevish. This is the denunciation of
Solomon, a sage philosopher, and an opulent king, whose
station, capacity, and inclination, conspired to give him the
deepest skill in politics: and this denunciation has been
accomplished in every age. Empires have fallen, liberty
has been fettered, property has been invaded, the lives of
men have been arbitrarily taken away, and misery and
desolation have broken in like a flood, when the govern-
ment has been entrusted in the hands of tyranny, of luxury,

424 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

or rashness; and the advantages of climate and soil, and
all others which nature could bestow, have not been able
to make the subjects happy under the baleful influence of
such an administration.

It has frequently been the unhappy fate of nations to be
enslaved to such rulers ; but such is the unavoidable im-
perfection of all human governments, that when, like our
own, they are managed by the best hands, they are attended
with many calamities, and cannot answer several valuable
ends; and from both these considerations we may infer
the necessity of a divine government over the whole uni-
verse and particularly over the earth, in which we are
more especially concerned. Without this supreme uni-
versal Monarch, the affairs of this world would fall into
confusion ; and the concerns of the next could not be
managed at all. The capacities of the wisest of men are
scanty, and not equal to all the purposes of government;
and hence many affairs of importance will be unavoidably
misconducted ; and dangerous plots and aggravated crimes
may be undiscovered for want of knowledge, or pass un-
punished for want of power. A wise and good ruler may
be diffusing among his subjects all that happiness which
can result from the imperfect administration of mortals,
but he may be tumbled from his throne, and his govern-
ment thrown into the greatest disorder by a more powerful
invader ; so that the best ruler could not make his subjects
lastingly happy, unless he were universal monarch of the
globe (a province too great for any mortal) and above the
reach of the ambitious power of others. Further, human
dominion cannot extend to the souls and consciences
of men : civil rulers can neither know nor govern, them ;
and yet these must be governed and brought into subjec-
tion to the eternal laws of reason, otherwise tranquil-
lity cannot subsist on earth ; and especially the great pur-

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 425

poses of religion, which regard a future state, cannot be
answered.

Men are placed here to be formed by a proper educa-
tion for another world, for another class, and other em-
ployments; but civil rulers cannot form them for these
important ends, and therefore they must be under the go-
venment of one who has access to their spirits, and can
manage them as he pleases.

Deeply impressed with these and other considerations,
which shall be presently mentioned, the Psalmist is trans-
ported into this reflection, "The LORD reigneth; let
the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad
thereof."

The Psalmist seems to have the mediatorial empire of
grace erected by Immanuel more immediately in view; and
this indeed deserves our special notice ; but no doubt he
included the divine government in general, which is a just
ground of universal joy ; and in this latitude I shall con-
sider the text.

Persons in a transport are apt to speak abruptly, and
omit the particles of connection and inference usual in
calm reasoning. Thus the Psalmist cries out, " The LORD
reigneth; let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of
isles be glad thereof!" but if we reduce the passage into
an argumentative form, it will stand thus, " The Lord
reigneth; therefore let the earth rejoice; and let the mul-
titude of isles be glad upon this account."

The earth may here signify by an usual metonymy,
the rational inhabitants of the earth, who are especially
concerned in the divine government ; or, by a beautiful
poetical prosopopoeia, it may signify the inanimate globe
of the earth, and then it intimates that the divine govern-
ment is so important a blessing, that even the inanimate
and senseless creation would rejoice in it, were it capable

VOL. I 54

426 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

of such passions.* The isles may likewise be taken figura-
tively for their inhabitants, particularly the Gentiles, who
resided in them ; or literally for tracts of land surrounded
with water.

My present design is

To illustrate this glorious truth, that Jehovah's supreme
government is a just cause of universal joy.

For that end I shall consider the divine government in
various views, as legislative, providential, mediatorial, and
judicial ; and show that in each of these views the divine
government is matter of universal joy.

I. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of legislation.
" Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad
thereof."

He is the one supreme Lawgiver, James iv, 12, and is
perfectly qualified for that important trust. Nothing tends
more to the advantage of civil society than to have good
laws established, according to which mankind are to con-
duct themselves, and according to which their rulers will
deal with them. Now the supreme and universal king has
enacted and published the best laws for the government of
the moral world, and of the human race in particular.

Let the earth then rejoice that God has clearly revealed
his will to us, and not left us in inextricable perplexities
about our duty to him and mankind. Human reason, or
the light of nature, gives us some intimations of the duties
of1 morality, even in our degenerate state, and for this infor-
mation we should bless God ; but alas ! these discoveries
are very imperfect, and we need supernatural revelation to
make known to us the way of life. Accordingly, the
Lord has favoured us with the sacred oracles as a supple-

* By the same figure the inanimate parts of the creation are called upon
to praise the Lord, Psalm cxlviii., and are said to travail and groan under
the sin of man. — Bom. viii. 22.

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 427

ment to the feeble light of nature ; and in them we are
fully " taught what is good, and what the law requireth of
us." And what cause of joy is this ! How painful are
the anxieties that attend uncertainty about matters of duty !
How distressing a doubtful, fluctuating mind, in an affair of
such tremendous importance! This, no doubt, some of
you that are conscientious have had the experience of, in
particular cases, when you were at a loss to apply to them
the general directions in sacred Scripture.

Again, " let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of

isles be glad," that these laws are suitably enforced with
proper sanctions. The sanctions are such as become a
God of infinite wisdom, almighty power, inexorable justice,
untainted holiness, and unbounded goodness and grace,
and such as are agreeable to the nature of reasonable crea-
tures formed for an immortal duration. The rewards of
obedience in the divine legislation are not such toys as
posts of honour and profit, crowns and empires, which are
the highest rewards that civil rulers can promise or bestow;
but rational peace and serenity of mind, undaunted bravery
under the frowns of adversity, a cheerful confidence in
the divine guardianship under all the calamities of life, and
in the future world an entire exemption from all sorrow
and from sin, the fruitful source of all our afflictions ; the
possession of every good, the enjoyment of the divine pre-
sence, of the society of angels and the spirits of just men
made perfect; in short, the fruition of a happiness above
our present wishes, and equal to our then mature faculties,
and all this for ever : these are the rewards of evangelical
obedience, not indeed for its own sake, but upon account
of the righteousness of the blessed Jesus ; and if these fail
to allure men to obedience, what can prevail ? And how
happy is it to live under a government, where virtue and
religion, which in their own nature tend to our happiness,

428 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

are enforced with such resistless arguments ! On the other
hand, the penalty annexed by the divine Lawgiver to dis-
obedience is proportionably dreadful. To pine and lan-
guish under the secret curse of angry Heaven, which, like
a contagious poison, diffuses itself through all the enjoy-
ments of the wicked, Mai ii. 2 ; to sweat under the ago-
nies of a guilty conscience in this world, and in the future
world to be banished from the beatific presence of God and
all the joys of heaven ; to feel the anguish and remorse of
guilty reflections ; to burn in unquenchable fire ; to con-
sume a miserable eternity in the horrid society of malig-
nant ghosts ; and all this without the least rational expecta-
tion, nay, without so much as a deluded hope of deliver-
ance, or the mitigation of torture, through the revolutions
of endless ages, all this is a faint representation of the
penalty annexed to disobedience; and it is a penalty
worthy a God to inflict, and equal to the infinite malig-
nity of sin. And " let the earth rejoice ; let the multi-
tude of isles be glad," on account not only of the pro-
missory sanction of the law, but also of this tremen-
dous penalty ; for it flows not only from justice, but from
goodness, as well as its promise. The penalty is not
annexed to the law, nor will it be executed from a malig-
nant pleasure in the misery of the creature, but it is an-
nexed from a regard to the happiness of mankind, and will
be executed upon individuals for the extensive good of the
whole as well as for the honourable display of the divine
purity and justice. A penalty is primarily intended to
deter men from disobedience. Now disobedience tends
in its own nature to make us miserable ; it renders it im-
possible, in the nature of things, that we should be happy
in the enjoyment of God and the employments of heaven,
which are eternally and immutably contrary to sinful, dis-
positions ; and it fills us with those malignant and unruly

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 429

passions which cannot but make us uneasy. Hence it
follows, that, since the penalty tends to deter us from sin,
and since sin naturally tends to make us miserable, there-
fore the penalty is a kind of gracious enclosure round the
pit of misery, to keep us from falling into it : it is a friendly
admonition not to drink poison ; it is, in a word, a kind
restraint upon us in our career to ruin ; and indeed it is a
blessing we could not spare ; for we find, that, notwith-
standing the terror of the threatening, men will run on in
sin ; and with how much more horrid alacrity and infernal
zeal would they continue their course, if there were no
divine threatening to check and withhold them? The
earth may also rejoice for the execution of the penalty of
the divine law against sin ; for the conspicious punishment
of the disobedient may serve as a loud warning to all
rational beings that now exist, or that may hereafter be
created, not to offend against God ; and thus it may be
the means of preserving them in obedience, and so pro-
mote the general good ; and it may be that the number of
those that shall be punished of the human and angelic
natures, when compared to the number of reasonable beings
that shall be confirmed in holiness and happiness by observ-
ing their doom, may bear no more proportion than the
number of criminals executed in a government as public
example does to all the subjects of it; and consequently
such punishment may be vindicated on the same princi-
ples.

Farther, Justice is an amiable attribute in itself, and it ap-
pears so to all rational beings but criminals, whose in-
terest it is, that it should not be displayed; and therefore
the infliction of just punishment should be matter of gen-
eral joy, since it is amiable in itself. So it is in human
governments ; while we are innocent, we approve of the
conduct of our magistrates in inflicting capital punishment

430 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

upon notorious malefactors, though the malefactors them-
selves view it with horror. But to proceed :

"Let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of isles be
glad," that the divine laws rea h the inner man, and have
power upon the hearts and consciences of men. Human
laws can only smooth our external conduct at best, but
the heart in the meantime may be disloyal and wicked.
Now this defect is supplied by the laws of the King of
heaven, which are spiritual. They require a complete
uniformity and self-consistency in us, that heart and life
may agree : and therefore they are wisely framed to make
us entirely good. They have also an inimitable power
upon the consciences of men. Should all the world acquit
us, yet we cannot acquit ourselves when we violate them.
The consciousness of a crime has made many a hardy
offender sweat and agonize with remorse, though no human
eye could witness to his offence. Now what cause of joy
is it that these laws are quick and powerful, and that they
are attended with almighty energy, which in some mea-
sure intimidates and restrains the most audacious, and in-
spires the conscientious with a pious fear of offending !

II. The Lord reigneth by his Providence. " Let the
earth therefore rejoice ; and the multitude of isles be glad
thereof."

The Providence of God is well described in our shorter
Catechism : " It is his most holy, wise, and powerful pre-
serving and governing all his creatures, and all their
actions." To particularize all the instances of providen-
tial government which may be matter of joy to the earth
would be endless, therefore I shall only mention the fol-
lowing :

Let the earth rejoice; and the multitude of isles be
glad, that the Lord reigneth over the kingdoms of the
earth, and manages all their affairs according to his sove-

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 431

reign and wise pleasure. We sometimes hear of wars,
and rumors of wars, of thrones tottering, and kingdoms
falling, of the nations tumultuously raging and dashing in
angry conflict, like the waves of the boisterous ocean. In
such a juncture we may say, " The floods have lifted up,
O LORD, the floods have lifted up their voice. The floods
lift up their waves. But the Lord reigneth, therefore the
world shall be established that it cannot be moved. — The
LORD on high is mightier than the noise of many waters ;
yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." Psalm xciii.
Sometimes the ambition of foreign power, or the encroach-
ments of domestic tyranny, may threaten our liberties, and
persecution may seem ready to discharge its artillery
against the church of God, while every pious heart trem-
bles for the ark, lest it should be carried into the land of
its enemies. But the Lord reigneth ! let the earth, let
the church rejoice ! " the eternal God is her refuge, and
underneath her are the everlasting arms." Deut. xxxiii. 27.
He will overrule the various revolutions of the world for
her good ; he will give kings for her ransom, ^Ethiopia
and Seba for her; and the united powers of earth and
hell shall not prevail against her. Though the frame of
nature should be unhinged, we 'may find refuge in our
God. Yet it must be owned, that the Lord for the chas-
tisement of his people may suffer their enemies to break
in upon them, and may cast them into the furnace of af-
fliction. But let the earth rejoice, let the church be glad
that the Lord reigneth over her most powerful enemies,
and that they are but executing his will even when they
have no regard to it, but are gratifying their own ambition.
They are but a rod in the hand of a tender father, who
corrects only to amend : and when he has used the rod
for this gracious purpose, he will then lay it aside. In
this language the Almighty speaks of the haughty As-

432 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

Syrian monarch who had pushed his conquest so far and
wide. Isaiah x. 5, 6, 7. " Oh Assyrian, the rod of mine
anger," &c. " I will give him my commission, and send
him against the Jews, my favourite people; because they
are degenerated into an hypocritical nation, and he shall
execute my orders." "Howbeit, he meaneth not so;" it
is far from his heart to obey my will in this expedition;
but his only design is to aggrandize himself, " and to de-
stroy and cut off nations not a few." And when this in-
strument of the divine vengeance arrogates to himself the
honour of his own successes, with what just insult and
disdain does the King of kings speak of him! ver. 12-15.
" Shall the axe boast itself against him that heweth there-
with 1 As if the rod should shake itself against them that
lift it up," &c. The design of God in these chastise-
ments is to purge away the iniquity of his people ; and
this is all the fruit of them to take away their sin ; and
when this gracious design is answered, they shall be re-
moved ; " The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the
lot of the righteous." Psalm cxxv. 3. Now what cause
of universal joy is this, that one infinitely wise sits at the
helm, and can steer the feeble vessel of his church through
all the outrageous storms of this unfriendly climate and
tempestuous ocean ! He may seem at times to lie asleep,
but in the article of extreme danger he will awake and still
the winds and the sea with his sovereign mandate, Peace,
be still. Men may form deep and politic schemes, and
purpose their accomplishment in defiance of Heaven, " but
God disappointeth the devices of the crafty, so that their
hands cannot perform their enterprise. He taketh the
wise in their own craftines, and the counsel of the froward
is carried headlong." Job v. 12, 13. This was exempli-
fied in the cause of Ahithophel, 2 Sam. xvii. 14. The
hearts of men, yea of kings, " are in the hand of the LORD,

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 433

and he turneth them whithersoever he will." Prov. xxi.
1, (see also chap. xvi. 1, 9, and xix. 21.) And how joy-
ful a thought this, that we are not at the arbitrary disposal
of our fellow mortals, and that affairs are not managed ac-
cording to their capricious pleasure, but that our God is
in heaven, and doth whatsoever he pleaseth ! Psalm cxv. 3.

Again, the church may be endangered by intestine
divisions and offences. The professors of religion may
stumble and fall, and so wound the hearts of the friends of
Zion, and give matter of triumph and insult to its enemies.
Some may apostatize, and return like the dog to his vomit.
A general lukewarmness may diffuse itself through the
church, and even those who retain their integrity in the
main may feel the contagion. Divisions and animosities
may be inflamed, mutual love may be extinguished, and a
spirit of discord succeed in its place. A most melancholy
case this, and too much like our own : and our hearts
sink at times beneath the burden. But the LORD reigneth ;
let the earth be glad. He can reduce this confusion into
order, and make the wrath of man to praise him, and re-
strain the remainder of it : Psalm Ixxvi. 10. It is the
peculiarity of divine wisdom to educe good out of evil,
and let us rejoice in it. God is supreme, and therefore
can control all the wicked passions of the mind. He has
the residue of the Spirit, and can rekindle the languishing
flame of devotion. And oh let us apply to him with the
most vigorous and unwearied importunity for so necessary
a blessing !

Again, we are exposed to numberless accidental and
unforseen dangers, which we cannot prevent nor encounter.
Sickness and death may proceed from a thousand unsus-
pected causes. Our friends, our estates, and, in short, all
our earthly enjoyments, may be torn from us by a variety
of accidents. We walk, as it were, in the dark, and may

VOL. I.— 65

434 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

tread on remediless dangers ere we are aware. Bui the
LORD reigneth : let the earth be glad ! contingent events are
at his disposal, and necessity at his control. The smallest
things are not beneath the notice of his providence, and
the greatest are not above it. Diseases and misfortunes
that seem to happen by chance, are commissioned by the
Lord of all ; and they that result evidently from natural
causes are sent by his almighty will. He says to one, Go,
and it goeth ; and to another, Come, and it cometh ; he
orders the devastations that are made by the most out-
rageous elements. If flames lay our houses in ashes, they
are kindled by his breath. If hurricanes sweep through
our land, and carry desolation along with them, they per-
form his will, and can do nothing beyond it: his hand
hurls the thunder, and directs it where to strike. An ar-
row or a bullet shot at a venture in the heat of battle is
carried to its mark by divine direction. How wretched a
world would this be were it not under the wise manage-
ment of divine Providence ! If chance or blind fate were
its rulers, what desolation would crowd upon us every mo-
ment ! we should soon be crushed in the ruins of a fallen
world. Every wind that blows might blast us with death,
and fire and water would mingle in a blended chaos, and
bury us in their destruction. But so extensive is the care
of Providence, that even the sparrows may find safety in
it ; and we cannot lose so much as a hair of our heads
without its permission: Matt. x. 29, 30, 31. And how
much more then are our persons and our affairs of import-
ance under its guardianship and direction !

Again we are in perpetual danger from the malignant
agency of infernal spirits, who watch all opportunities to
ruin the souls, bodies, and estates of men. These subtle
spirits can inject ensnaring thoughts into our minds, and
present such images to the fancy as may allure the soul

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 435

to sin. This is repeatedly asserted in Scripture, and at-
tested by the melancholy experience of multitudes in all
ages. That they have power also in the material world
to raise storms and tempests, and to ruin men's estates
and inflict diseases on their bodies, is plain from the case
of Job, and many in our Saviour's time, and from Satan's
being called the prince of the power of the air ; and his
associates spiritual wickedness in high places. And what
horrid devastations would these powerful and malicious
beings spread through the world if they were not under
the control of divine Providence ! They would perpet-
ually haunt our minds with ensnaring or terrifying images;
would meet us with temptations at every turn, and lead
us willing captives to hell. They would also strip us en-
tirely of all temporal enjoyments, torture our bodies with
grievous pains, or moulder them into dust with consuming
and loathsome diseases. But the LORD reigneth; let the
earth be glad. He keeps the infernal lions in chains, and
restrains their rage. He sees all their subtle plots and
machinations against his feeble sheep, and baffles them all.
He will not suffer his people to be tempted above what
they are able to bear; but with the temptation will also
make a way to escape; 1. Cor. x. 13. And when he
suffers them to be buffeted, his grace shall be sufficient for
them, &c. : 2 Cor. xii. 7, 9. He hath also (as Satan him-
self confessed with regard to Job) made a hedge about us,
about our houses, and about all that we have on every
side ; Job i. 10; and hence we live and enjoy the blessings
of life. What cause of grateful joy is this! Who
would not rather die than live in a world ungoverned
by divine Providence? This earth would soon be
turned into a hell, if the infernal armies were let loose
upon it.

III. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of grace!

436 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

" Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad
thereof."

It is the mediatorial government of the Messiah which
the Psalmist had more immediately in view ; and this is
the principal cause of joy to the earth and its guilty in-
habitants. This is a kind of government peculiar to the
human race ; the upright angels do not need it, and the
fallen angels are not favoured with it. This is invested in
the person of Immanuel, "who is made head over all
things to his church," Eph. i. 22 ; " to whom all power in
heaven and earth is given," Matt. xi. 27, and xxviii. 18.
This is the kingdom described in such august language in
Dan. ii. ver. 44, 45, and vii. 14. Luke i. 32, 33. Hence
that Jesus who was mocked with a crown of thorns, and
condemned as a criminal at Pilate's bar, wears on his
vesture and on his thigh this majestic inscription, KING OF
KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS. Rev. xix. 16. And
behold I bring you glad tidings; this kingdom of God is come
unto you, and you are called to become its subjects, and share
in its blessings. Wherever the gospel is preached, there
Jehovah sits upon a mercy-seat in majesty tempered with
condescending grace. From thence he invites rebels that
had rejected his government to return to their allegiance,
and passes an act of grace upon all that comply with the
invitation. To his throne of grace he invites all to come,
and offers them the richest blessings. From thence he
publishes peace on earth, and good will towards men.
From thence he offers pardon to all that will submit to his
government, and renounce their sins, those weapons of re-
bellion. From thence he distributes the influences of his
Spirit to subdue obstinate hearts into cheerful submission,
to support his subjects under every burden, and furnish
them with strength for the spiritual warfare. He sub-
dues their rebellious corruptions, animates their languish-

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 437

ing graces, and protects them from their spiritual enemies.*
He enacts laws for the regulation of his church, appoints
ordinances for her edification, and qualifies ministers to
dispense them. He hath ascended up on high ; he hath
received gifts for men ; and these he hath distributed, and
given "some apostles; and some prophets; and some
evangelists ; and some pastors and teachers ; for the per-
fecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the
edifying of the body of Christ," Eph. iv. 8, 11, 1*2. And
it is by virtue of authority derived from him, that his
ministers now officiate, and you receive his ordinances at
their hands. Now how happy are we, that we live under
the mediatorial administration ! under the empire of grace !
— Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of isles be glad
upon this account. And let us pray that all nations
may become the willing subjects of our gracious Sovereign.
If this administration of grace had not yet been erected,
in what a miserable situation should we have been ! guilty,
miserable, and hopeless ! Let us rejoice that the King of
heaven, from whom we had revolted, has not suffered us
to perish without remedy in our unnatural rebellion, but
holds out the sceptre of his grace to us, that we may touch
it and live.

IV. And lastly, the Lord will reign ere long upon a
throne of universal judgment, conspicuous to the assembled
universe. " Let the earth therefore rejoice, and the multi-
tude of isles be glad."

Here I may borrow the inimitable language of the
Psalmist, Ps. xcvi. 10, 13. " The LORD shall judge the
people righteously. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the
earth be glad : let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof;
let the field be joyful, and all that is therein ; then shall all

* See his reign most beautifully described under the type of Solomon.
Psalm Ixxii.

438 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

the trees of the wood rejoice before the LORD, for he
cometh ! for he cometh to judge the earth. He shall
judge the world with righteousness and the people with
his truth." This will indeed be a day of insupportable
terror to his enemies, Rev. vi. 15, 16, but, on many ac-
counts, it will prove a day of joy and triumph.

This day will unfold all the mysteries of divine Provi-
dence which are now unsearchable. There are many
dispensations now for which we cannot account. Many
blessings are bestowed, many calamities fall, and many
events happen, of which mortals cannot see the reason.
Prosperity is the lot of some who seem the peculiar ob-
jects of divine vengeance ; and many groan under afflic-
tions who seem more proper objects of providential be-
neficence. We are often led into ways the end of which
we cannot see, and are bewildered in various perplexities
about the designs of divine Providence towards us. Hence
also impiety takes occasion to cavil at the ways of God
as not equal, and to censure his government as weakly ad-
ministered. But in that day all his ways will appear to be
judgment. The clouds and darkness that now surround
them will vanish, and the beams of wisdom, goodness, and
justice, shall shine illustrious before the whole universe,
and every creature shall join the plaudit, He hath done all
things well ! Now we can at best but see a few links in
the chain of providence, but then we shall see it all entire
and complete ; then the whole system will be exposed to
view at once, which will discover the strange symmetry,
connections, dependencies, and references of all the parts,
without which we can no more judge of the excellency
of the procedure than a rustic could tell the use of the
several parts of a watch, if he saw them scattered in
various places. Let the earth therefore be glad in ex-
pectation of this glorious discovery.

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 439

Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the present
unequal distributions of Providence will be for ever ad-
justed, and regulated according to the strictest justice.
This is not the place or season for retribution, and there-
fore we need not be surprised that the blessings and
calamities of this life are not disposed according to men's
real characters; but then every man shall be dealt with
according to his works. Oppressed innocence will be
redressed, and insolence for ever mortified: calumny will
be confuted, and flattery exposed: Lazarus shall be com-
forted, Dives tormented: impious kings shall be driven
into the infernal pit, while pious beggars shall be advanced
to the heights of happiness. In short, all matters will
then be set right, and therefore let the earth rejoice.

Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the right-
eous shall be completely delivered from all sin and sorrow,
and advanced to the perfection of heavenly happiness.
Then they shall enter upon the full fruition of that bliss,
which is now the object of all their anxious hopes and
earnest labours.

But we must change the scene into tragedy, and take a
view of the trembling criminals hearing their dreadful
doom, and sinking to hell with horrible anguish. And
must the earth rejoice in this too ? Yes, but with a
solemn tremendous joy. Even the condemnation and
everlasting misery of these is right and just, is amiable
and glorious ; and God, angels and saints, will at the great
day rejoice in it. The awful grandeur of justice will be
illustrated in it; and this is matter of joy. The punish-
ment of irreclaimable impenitents will be an effectual
warning to all reasonable beings, and to all future crea-
tions, as has been observed; and by it they will be de-
terred from disobedience ; and this is the cause of joy.
These criminals will then be beyond repentance and re-

440 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT

formation, and therefore it is impossible in the nature of
things they should be happy; and why then should heaven
be encumbered with them? Is it not cause of joy that
they should be confined in prison who have made them-
selves unfit for society 1 In the present state sinners are
objects of our compassion and sorrow, and the whole crea-
tion mourns for them. Rom. viii. 22. But God will then
rejoice in their ruin, and laugh at their calamity, Prov. i.
26 ; and all dutiful creatures will join in his joy.

Thus you see that the Lord reigneth. And who, poor
feeble saints, who is this that sustains this universal
government, and rules the whole creation according to his
pleasure ? It is your Father, your Saviour, your Friend !
It is he that entertains a tenderer regard for you than
ever glowed in a human breast. And can you be so
foolish as to regard the surmises of unbelief? Can you
force yourselves to fear that he will ever leave or forsake
you ? Can you suspect that he will suffer you to fall a
helpless prey to your enemies? No, your Lord reigneth,
therefore rejoice. Rejoice in the Lord alway ; and again
I say rejoice. While he keeps the throne of the universe,
you shall be safe and happy. Your Father is greater
than all, and none can pluck you out of his hands. Re-
member, he sits upon a throne of grace, therefore come to
him with boldness. You may smile at calamity and con-
fusion, and rejoice amid the ruins of the world; you
may borrow the language of David, Psalm xlv.; or of
Habakkuk, chap. iii. ver. 17, 18. Remember also, that,
as he is a king, he demands your cheerful obedience, and
therefore make his service the business of your life.

And, unhappy sinners! let me ask you, Who is this
that reigns King of the universe ? Why, it is he whom
you have rejected from being King over you; it is he
against whom you have rebelled, and who is therefore

THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 441

your just enemy. And are you able to make good your
cause against him who has universal nature at his nod?
How dreadful is your situation ! That which may make
the earth rejoice, may make you fear and tremble. The
Lord reigneth, let sinners tremble. You must fall before
him, if you will not cheerfully submit to his government.
Let me therefore renew the usual neglected declaration,
" He sits upon a throne of grace." Let me once more in
his name proclaim reconciliation ! reconciliation ! ! in your
ears, and invite you to return to your allegiance. Lay
down your arms, forsake your sins! Hasten, hasten to
him! The sword of his justice now hangs over your
heads, while I am managing the treaty with you; and
therefore delay not. Yield ; yield, or die ! surrender, or
perish! for you have no other alternative. Submit, and
you may join the general joy at his government. You
upon earth, and devils and damned ghosts in hell, are the
only beings that are sorry for it; but upon your submis-
sion your sorrow shall be turned into joy, and you shall
exult when the LORD of all comes to judge " the world
with righteousness, and the people with his truth." Psalm
xcvi. 13.

VOL. I.— 56

442 THE NAME OF GOD

SERMON XVII.

/• .

THE NAME OF GOD PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF.

EXOD. xxxiii. 18, 19. — And he said, I beseech thee, show
me thy glory. And he said, I will make all my good-
ness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of
the LORD before thee. —

WITH

CHAP, xxxiv. 6, 7. — And the LORD passed by before him,
and proclaimed, The LORD, the LORD God, merciful and
gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and
truth; keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity
and transgression and sin, and that will by no means
clear the guilty.

IT is a very natural and proper inquiry for a creature,
"Where is God my Maker?" And a heart that loves
him must long to know more of him, and is ever ready to
join with Moses in his petition, Show me, I pray thee, thy
glory; or, "Reveal thyself to me." That thou art, I
infer from my own existence, and from thy numerous
works all around me ; and that thou art glorious, I learn
from the display of thy perfections in thy vast creation,
and in the government of the world thou hast made.
But, alas ! how small a portion of God is known in the
earth ! How faintly does thy glory shine in the feeble
eyes of mortals. My knowledge of things in the present
state of flesh and blood depends in a great measure upon
the senses ; but God is a Spirit invisible to eyes of flesh,

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 443

and imperceptible through the gross medium of sensation.
How and when shall I know thee as thou art, thou great,
thou dear unknown ? In what a strange situation am I !
I am surrounded with thy Omnipresence, yet I cannot
perceive thee : thou art as near to me as I am to myself;
"thou knowest my down-sitting and mine up-rising, thou
understandest my thoughts afar off;" thou penetratest my
very essence, and knowest me altogether. Psalm cxxxix.
2, &c. But to me thou dwellest in impervious darkness,
or which is the same, in light inaccessible. " Oh that I
knew where I might find him! Behold, I go forward,
but he is not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive
him : on the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot
behold him : he hideth himself on the right hand, that I
cannot see him." Job xxiii. 3, 8, 9. I see his perfections
beaming upon me from all his works, and his providence
ever-active, ruling the vast universe, and diffusing life,
motion, and vigour through the whole : the virtue of his
wisdom, power, and goodness,

"Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze ;
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ;
Lives in all life, extends through all extent ;
Spreads undivided, operates unspent ;
Inspires our soul, informs our vital part. — POPE.

But where is the great Agent himself? These are his
works, and they are glorious : " in wisdom has he made
them all," but where is the divine Artificer? From these
displays of his glory, which strike my senses, I derive some
ideas of him ; but oh ! how faint and glimmering ! how
unlike to the all-perfect Archetype and Original ! I have
also heard of him by the hearing of the ear; I read his
own descriptions of himself in his word; I contemplate
the representations he has given of himself in his ordi-
nances ; and these are truly glorious, but they are adapted

444 THE NAME OF GOD

to the dark and grovelling minds of mortals in this obscure
region, and fall infinitely short of the original glory. I
can think of him; I can love him; I can converse and
carry on a spiritual intercourse with him ; I feel him work-
ing in my heart ; I receive sensible communications of love
and grace from him ; I dwell at times with unknown de-
light in the contemplation of his glory, and am transported
with the survey : but, alas ! I cannot fully know him ; I
cannot dive deep into this mystery of glory; my senses
cannot perceive him; and my intellectual powers in the
present state are not qualified to converse with spiritual
objects, and form a full acquaintance with them. Oh ! if
it would please my God to show me his glory in its full
lustre ! Oh that he would reveal himself to me so that
my senses may assist my mind ; if such a manner of reve-
lation be possible !

Such thoughts as these may naturally rise in our minds ;
and probably some such thoughts possessed the mind of
Moses, and were the occasion of his request, / beseech thee,
show me thy glory.

These chapters, whence we have taken our subject of
discourse, present us with transactions that must seem
very strange and incredible to a mind that knows nothing
of communion with the Father of spirits, and that is fur-
nished only with modern ideas.

Here is, not an angel, but a man ; not a creature only,
but a sinner, a sinner once depraved as ourselves, in inti-
mate audience with the Deity. Jehovah speaks to him
face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend. Moses uses
his interest in favour of a rebellious people, and it was so
great that he prevailed : nay, to show the force of his in-
tercessions, and to give him an encouragement to use them,
God condescends to represent himself as restrained by this
importunate petitioner, and unable to punish the ungrateful

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 445

/

Israelites, while Moses pleaded for them. " Let me alone,"
says he, " that my wrath may wax hot against them, that I
may consume them." Exod. xxxii. 10. Moses urges peti-
tion upon petition; and he obtains blessing upon blessing,
as though God could deny nothing to such a favourite.
He first deprecates the divine wrath, that it might not im-
mediately break out upon the Israelites, and cut them off,
verses 11-14. When he has gained this point, he ad-
vances farther, and pleads that God would be their Con-
ductor through the wilderness, as he had been till that
time, and lead them into the promised land. In this arti-
cle God seems to put him off, and to devolve the work of
conducting them upon himself; but Moses, sensible that
he was not equal to it, insists upon the request, and with
a sacred dexterity urges the divine promises to enforce it.
Jehovah at length appears, as it were, partly prevailed
upon, and promises to send his angel before him as his
guide. Chap, xxxii. 34, and xxxiii. 2. But, alas ! an angel
cannot fill up his place ; and Moses renews his petition to
the Lord, and humbly tells him that he had rather stay, or
even die where they were in the wilderness, than to go up
to the promised land without him. If thy presence go not
with me, carry us not up hence, chap, xxxiii. 15. " Alas !
the company of an angel, and the possession of a land
flowing with milk and honey, will not satisfy us without
thyself." His prayers prevail for this blessing also, and
Jehovah will not deny him any thing. Oh the surprising
prevalency of faith ! Oh the efficacy of the fervent prayer
of a righteous man !

And now, when his people are restored unto the divine
favour, and God has engaged to go with them, has Moses
any thing more to ask? Yes, he found he had indeed
great interest with God, and oh ! he loved him, and longed,
and languished for a clearer knowledge of him; he found

446 THE NAME OF GOD

that after all his friendly interviews and conferences he
knew but little of his glory ; and now, thought he, it is
proper time to put in a petition for this manifestation ; who
knows but it may be granted ! Accordingly he prays with a
mixture of filial boldness and trembling modesty, / beseech
thee, show me thy glory ; that is to say, " Now I am in
converse with thee, I perceive thou art the most glorious
of all beings ; but it is but little of thy glory I as yet know.
Oh ! is it possible for a guilty mortal to receive clearer dis-
coveries of it? If so, I pray thee favour me with a more full
and bright view." This petition is also granted, and the Lord
promises him, " I will make all my goodness pass before thee,
and I will proclaim the name of the LORD before thee."

That you may the better understand this strange his-
tory, I would have you observe a few things.

1st. In the earliest ages of the world, it was a very com-
mon thing for God to assume some visible form, and in it
to converse freely with his servants. Of this you fre-
quently read in the history of the patriarchs, particularly
of Adam, Abraham, Jacob, &c. It is also a tradition
almost universally received in all ages, and among all na-
tions, that God has sometimes appeared in a sensible form
to mortals. You can hardly meet with one heathen writer
but that you will find in him some traces of this tradition.
Upon this, in particular, are founded the many extravagant
stories of the poets concerning the appearances of their gods.
Had there been no original truth in some appearances of the
true God to men, there would have been no colour for such
fables ; for they would have evidently appeared groundless
and unnatural to every reader. This tradition therefore
was no doubt originally derived from the appearances of
the Deity, in a coporeal form, in early ages.* Sometimes

* These appearances were probably made in the person of the Son, and
might be intended as a prelude or earnest of his assuming human nature in

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF.

God assumed a human shape, and appeared as a man.
Thus he appeared to Abraham, in company with two an-
gels, Gen. xviii., and that good patriarch entertained them
with food as travellers; yet one of them is repeatedly
styled the Lord, or Jehovah, the incommunicable name of
God ; see verses 13, 20, 22, 26, &c., and speaks in a lan-
guage proper to him only, verses 14, 21, &c. Sometimes
he appeared as a visible brightness, or a body of light, or
in some other sensible form of majesty and glory. Thus
he was seen by Moses in the bush as a burning fire ; thus
he attended the Israelites through the wilderness, in the
symbol of fire by night, and a cloud by day ; and thus he
often appeared in the tabernacle, and at the dedication of
Solomon's temple, in some sensible form of glorious bright-
ness, which the Jews called the Shechinah ; and looked
upon as a certain symbol of the divine presence.

2dly. You are to observe that God, who is a spirit, can-
not be perceived by the senses ; nor were these sensible
forms intended to represent the divine essence, which is
wholly immaterial. You can no more see God than you
can see your own soul ; and a bodily form can no more
represent his nature than shape or colour can represent a
thought or the affection of love. Yet,

3dly. It must be allowed that majestic and glorious em-
blems, or representations of God exhibited to the senses,
may help to raise our ideas of him. When the senses and
the imagination assist the power of pure understanding, its
ideas are more lively and impressive : and though no sen-

tlie fulness of time, and his dwelling among mortals. He was the imme-
diate Agent in the creation of the world; and the Father devolved upon
him the whole economy of Providence from the beginning; and hence he
had frequent occasions to appear on some grand design. It cannot seem in-
credible that he should thus assume some visible form to such as believe that
God was at length really manifested in the flesh; for this temporary apparent
incarnation cannot be deemed more strange than his really being made flesh,
and dwelling among us.

448 THE NAME OF GOD

sible representations can bear any strict resemblance to the
divine nature, yet they may strike our minds deeply, and
fill them with images of grandeur and majesty. When I
see a magnificent palace, it naturally tends to give me a
great idea of the owner or builder. The retinue and
pomp of kings, their glittering crowns, sceptres, and other
regalia, tend to inspire us with ideas of majesty. In like
manner those sensible representations of Deity, especially
when attended with some rational descriptions of the divine
nature, may help us to form higher conceptions of the
glory of God ; and the want of such representations may
occasion less reverence and awe. For instance, had the
description of the Deity, The LORD God, merciful and
gracious, &c., been only suggested to the mind of Moses
as an object of calm contemplation, it would not have
struck him with such profound reverence, nor given him
such clear or impressive ideas as when it was proclaimed
with a loud majestic voice, and attended with a visible
glory too bright for mortal eyes. Human nature is of
such a make, that it cannot but be affected with things of
this nature.

Consider the matter well in the light in which I have
set it, and you may see something of the propriety and
good tendency of these appearances, and at the same time
guard yourselves against mistakes. Let me now give you
what I apprehend the true history of this remarkable and
illustrious appearance of God to Moses.

Moses had enjoyed frequent interviews with God, and
seen many symbols of his presence and representations of
his glory; but he still finds his knowledge of him very defec-
tive, and apprehends that God might give him some repre-
sentation of his glory more striking and illustrious than
any he had seen. Therefore, finding that now he was in
great favour with him, he humbly moves this petition,

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 449

/ beseech thee show me thy glory ; " give me some more
full and majestic representations of thy glory than I have
hitherto seen." The Lord answers him, " I will cause
all my goodness," that is a glorious, visible representation
of my goodness, which is, " my glory, to pass before thee,"
which may strike thy senses, and make them the medium
of conveying to thy mind more illustrious and majestic
ideas of my glory. And as no sensible forms can fully re-
present the spiritual essence and perfections of my nature,
while I cause a visible representation of my glory to pass
before thee, I will at the same time proclaim the name of
the Lord,* and describe some of the principal perfections
that constitute my glory and goodness. But so bright
will be the lustre of that form which I shall assume, that
thou art not able to see my face, or the most splendid part
of the representation ; the glory is too bright to be beheld
by any mortal, ver. 20. But there is a place in a rock
where thou mayest wait, and I will cast darkness over it
till the brightest part of the form of glory in which I shall
appear is passed by, and then I will open a medium of
light, and thou shalt see my back parts ; that is those parts
of the representation which are less illustrious, and which
pass by last : the glory of these thou shalt be enable to
bear, but my face shall not be seen." ver. 2-23.

Thus God condescended to promise ; and when matters
were duly prepared, he performs his engagement. The
Lord assumed a visible form of glory, and passed by before
him and proclaimed his name, which includes his perfec-
tions. Things are known by their names, and God is

* The LXX render the passage, / will call by my name, the LORD before
thee. And this is the most literal translation of the Hebrew: they are ren-
dered Indamabo nominatim Jehovah ante faciem tuam, by Junius and Tremel-
lius. According to this version the sense seems to be, "when the symbol of
my glory is passing by, I will give thee notice, and call by my name the
Lord, that I may not pass by unobserved."
VOL. I.— 57

450 THE NAME OF GOD

known by his attributes, therefore his name includes his
attributes. The proclamation ran in this august style,
" The LORD, the LORD God, merciful and gracious, long-
suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping
mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and
sin." Moses was struck with reverence and admiration,
and bowed and worshipped.

My present design is to explain the several names and
perfections here ascribed to God, and show that they all
concur to constitute his goodness. For you must observe
this is the connection. Moses prays for a view of God's
glory. God promises him a view of his goodness, which
intimates that his goodness is his glory ; and when he de-
scribes his goodness, what is the description 1 It is " the
LORD, the LORD God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering,
and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping* mercy for
thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin." That
these attributes belong to his goodness we easily and natu-
rally conceive; but what shall we think of his punitive
justice, that awful and tremendous attribute, the object
of terror and aversion to sinners ? Is that a part of his
goodness too? Yes, when God causes his goodness to
pass before Moses, he proclaims as one part of it, that " he
will by no means clear the guilty ; and that he visits the
iniquities of the fathers upon the children to the third and
fourth generation." This awful attribute is an important
part of his goodness, and without it he could not be good,
amiable, or glorious.

I am now about to enter upon a subject the most sub-
lime, august, and important, that can come within the com-

* The Hebrews observe, that the first letter of the word translated keeping,
is much larger than usual ; which shows that a particular emphasis is to be
laid upon it ; as if he should say, " I most strictly and richly keep mercy
for thousands ; the treasure is immense, and can never be exhausted.

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 451

pass of human or angelic minds, the name and perfections
of the infinite and ever-glorious God. I attempt it with
trembling and reverence, and I foresee I shall finish it with
shame and confusion : for who by searching can find out
God ? who can find out the Almighty unto perfection ?
Job xi. 7. The question of Agur mortifies the pride of
human knowledge ; " What is his name, and what is his
Son's name, if thou canst tell ?" Prov. xxx. 4. " Such
knowledge is too wonderful for me ; it is high, I cannot
attain unto it." Psalm cxxxix. 6. " It is as high as hea-
ven ; what canst thou do ? deeper than hell ; what canst
thou know ? the measure thereof is longer than the earth,
and broader than the sea." Job xi. 8, 9. Lend me your
skill, ye angels, who have seen his face without intermis-
sion from the first moment of your happy existence ; or ye
saints above, that " see him as he is, and know even as you
are known," inspire me with your exalted ideas, and teach
me your celestial language, while I attempt to bring heaven
down to earth, and reveal its glories to the eyes of mortals.
In vain I ask ; their knowledge is incommunicable to the
inhabitants of flesh, and none but immortals can learn the
language of immortality. But why do I ask of them ? Oh
thou Father of angels and of men, who " canst perfect thy
praise even out of the mouths of babes and sucklings," and
who canst open all the avenues of knowledge, and pour
thy glory upon created minds, do thou shine into my heart;
to me give the light of the knowledge of thy glory ; I be-
seech thee, show me thy glory .• cause it to shine upon my
understanding, while I try to display it to thy people, that
they may behold, adore, and love.

As to you my brethren, I solicit your most solemn and
reverential attention, while I would lead you into the
knowledge of the Lord your maker. One would think a
kind of filial curiosity would inspire you with eager desires

452 THE NAME OF GOD

to be acquainted with your divine Parent and original.
You would not be willing to worship you know not what,
or with the Athenians, adore an unknown God. Do you
not long to know the greatest and best of beings, the glim-
merings of whose glory shine upon you from heaven and
earth ? Would you not know him in whose presence you
hope to dwell and be happy for ever and for ever ? Come
then, be all awe and attention, while I proclaim to you his
name and perfections, " The LORD, the LORD God, mer-
ciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness
and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity,
transgression and sin."

We may be sure God has assumed to himself such
names as are best adapted to describe his nature, as far as
mortal language can reach. And everything belonging to
him is so dear and important, that his very name deserves
a particular consideration. This is not to make empty
criticisms upon an arbitrary unmeaning sound, but to de-
rive useful knowledge from a word of the greatest empha-
sis and significancy.

The first name in the order of the text, and in its own
dignity, is, the LORD, or Jehovah ; a name here twice re-
peated, to show its importance, the LORD the LORD, or
Jehovah, Jehovah. This is a name peculiar to God, and
incommunicable to the most exalted creature. The Apos-
tle tells us, There are gods many and lords many. 1 Cor.
viii. 5. Magistrates in particular are so called, because
their authority is some shadow of the divine authority.
But the name Jehovah, which is rendered LORD in my
text, and in all those places in the Bible, where it is writ-
ten in capitals, I say, this name Jehovah is appropriated to
the Supreme Being, and never applied to any other. He
claims it to himself, as his peculiar glory. Thus in Psalm
Ixxxiii. ver. 18. "Thou, whose name alone is Jehovah,

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 453

art the Most High over all the earth." And in Isaiah
xlii. ver. 8. / am the LORD, or (as it is in the original)
Jehovah; that is my name, my proper incommunicable
name, and my glory will I not give to another ; that is, I
will not allow another to share with me in the glory of
wearing this name. Thus also in Amos iv. ver. 13. " Lo,
he that formeth the mountains, and createth the wind, that
declareth unto man what is in his thoughts, that maketh
the morning darkness, and treadeth upon the high places
of the earth, the LORD, the God of hosts, is his name," his
distinguishing, appropriated name. There must therefore
be something peculiarly sacred and significant in this name,
since it is thus incommunicably appropriated to the only
one God.

The Jews had such a prodigious veneration for this
name as amounted to a superstitious excess. They call it
" that name," by way of distinction, " The great name, the
glorious name, the appropriated name, the unutterable
name, the expounded name,"* because they never pro-
nounced it, except in one instance, which I shall mention
presently, but always expounded it by some other : thus
when the name Jehovah occurred in the Old Testament,
they always read it Adonai or Elohim, the usual and less
sacred names, which we translate Lord God. It was
never pronounced by the Jews in reading, prayer, or the
most solemn act of worship, much less in common conver-
sation, except once a year, on the great day of atonement,
and then only by the high priest in the sanctuary, in pro-
nouncing the benediction : but at all other times, places,
and occasions, and to all other persons, the pronunciation
was deemed unlawful. The benediction was that which

* They also distinguish it by the name of the four letters that composed it,
jodh, he, van, he ; and hence the Greeks called it the four-lettered name. See
Buxtorf.

454 THE NAME OF GOD

you read in Numbers vi. verses 24, 25, 26, where the
name Jehovah is thrice repeated in the Hebrew, " Jehovah
bless thee, and keep thee : Jehovah make his face to shine
upon thee, and be gracious unto thee : Jehovah lift up his
countenance upon thee, and give thee peace." When this
venerable name was pronounced upon this occasion, we are
told by the Jewish rabbies, " that all the vast congregation
then present bowed the knee, and fell down in the hum-
blest prostration, crying out, Blessed be his glorious name
for ever and ever." They supposed this name had a
miraculous virtue in it, and that by it Moses and others
wrought such wonders : nay, so great was their supersti-
tion that they thought it a kind of charm or magical word,
and that he that had it about him, and knew its true pronun-
ciation and virtue, could perform the most surprising things,
and even shake heaven and earth.*

I do not mention these things with approbation, but
only to show that there is something peculiarly significant,
important, und sacred in this name, from whence the Jews
took occasion for such extravagant notions ; and this will
appear from its etymology. You know it is not my usual
method to carry a great quantity of learned disquisition
with me into the pulpit, or to spend your time in trifling,
pedantic criticisms upon words, which may indeed have a
show of literature, and amuse those who admire what they
do not understand, but can answer no valuable end in a
popular audience. However, at present I must take the
liberty of showing you the original meaning of the name
Jehovah, that I may thoroughly explain my text, and that

* This name seems not to have been unknown among other nations.
Hence probably is derived the name Jovis, Jove, the Latin name for the
Supreme God. And it is probably in allusion to this that Varro says,
" Deum Judseorum esse Jovem." The Moors also called God Jubah, and
the Mahometans Hou ; which in their language signifies the same with Je-
hovah, namely, He who is. Seo Univ. Hist Vol. III. p. 357, note T.

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 455

you may know the import of a name that will occur so
often to you in reading your Bibles ; for, as I told you, wher-
ever you meet with the word LORD in large letters, it is
always Jehovah in the original.

The name Jehovah is derived from the Hebrew verb,
to be ; and therefore the meaning of the word Jehovah is,
The existent, the being, or, He that is. Thus it seems ex-
plained in Exodus iii. ver. 14. I AM THAT I AM, or, " I
am because I am ;" that is, I exist, and have being in and
of myself without dependence upon any cause ; and my
existence or being is always the same, unchangeable and
eternal. St. John well explains this name by the Who is,
who was, and who is to come ; or, as the passage might be
rendered, " The present Being, the past Being, and the
future Being ;" or, The Being that is, the Being that was,
and the Being that will be; that is, the perpetual, the
eternal, and unchangeable Being. I shall only observe
farther, that Jehovah is not a relative, but an absolute
name : there is no pronoun or relative word that is ever
joined with it ; we can say, My Lord, our Lord, our God,
&c., but the Hebrews never say or write, My Jehovah,
our Jehovah, &c. ; so that this name represents him as he
is in himself, without any relation to his creatures, as he
would have been if they had never existed. He would
still have been the Being, the absolute, independent ex-
istent, in which view he has nothing to do with his crea-
tures, and can sustain no relation to them.

From this name, thus explained, we learn the following
glorious, incommunicable perfections of God; that he is
self-existent and independent ; that his being is necessary ;
that he is eternal ; and that he is unchangeable.

While I am about to enter upon these subjects, I seem
to stand upon the brink of an unbounded, fathomless ocean,
and tremble to launch into it; but, under the conduct of

456 THE NAME OF GOD

Scripture and humble reason, let us make the adventure ;
for it is a happiness to be lost and swallowed in such an
ocean of perfection.

1. The name Jehovah implies that God is self-existent
and independent. I do not mean by this that he pro-
duced himself, for that would be a direct contradiction,
and suppose him to exist, and not to exist at the same
time : but I mean that the reason and ground of his exist-
ence is in his own nature, and does not at all depend upon
anything besides. Being is essential to him. He con-
tains an infinite fulness of being in himself, and no other
being has contributed in the least towards his existence ; and
hence with great propriety he assumes that strange name, /
Am. He is Being throughout, perfectly and universally
vital; and the reason of this is entirely within his own nature.

How gloriously is he distinguished in this respect from
all other beings, even the most illustrious and powerful !
Time was, when they were nothing. Angels and arch-
angels, men and beasts, sun, moon, and stars ; in short, the
whole universe besides, were once nothing, had no being
at all : and what was the reason that they ever came into
being ? Certainly it was not in them : when they were
nothing there was no reason at all in them why they
should ever be something : for in not being, there can be
no reason or ground for being. The mere pleasure of
God, the fiat of this self-existing Jehovah, is the only reason
and sole cause of their existence. If it had not been for
him, they would have continued nothing as they were :
their being therefore is entirely precarious, dependent, and
wholly proceeds from a cause without themselves. But
Jehovah glories in an unborrowed, underived, independent
being. Whatever he is, it is his own : he owes it only to
himself. What a glorious Being is this ! how infinitely
different from and superior to the whole system of crea-

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 457

tures ! Are you not already constrained to bow the knee
before him, and wonder, adore, and love 1 But,

II. Hence it follows that his existence is necessary;
that is, it is impossible for him not to be. His being does
not depend upon any thing without him, nor does it de-
pend upon his own arbitrary will, but it is essential to his
nature. That he should not be is as great an impossibility
as that two and two should not make four. It is impossi-
ble that any thing should be more closely connected with
any thing than being is with his essence, and it is impossi-
ble any thing should be more opposite to any thing than
he is to non-existence. Since he received his being from
nothing without himself, and since the reason of his ex-
istence is not derived from any other, it follows, that un-
less he exists by the necessity of his own nature, he must
exist without any necessity : that is, without any reason at
all, which is the same as to say that nothing is the cause
or ground of his existence ; and what imagination can be
more absurd ! His being therefore must exist by an ab-
solute, independent necessity.

What a glorious Being is this! how infinitely distant
from nothing, or a possibility of not being ! What an un-
bounded fund of existence, what an immense ocean of
Being is here ! Alas ! what are we, what is the whole
universe besides in this comparison ? They are nothing,
less than nothing, and vanity. Our Being is not only de-
rived but arbitrary, depending entirely upon the mere
pleasure of Jehovah. There was no necessity from our
nature that we should be at all ; and now there is no ne-
cessity that we should continue to be. If we exist, it is
not owing to us. " He made us, and not we ourselves;"
and if we shall continue to be for ever, it is not owin^ to
a fund of being within ourselves, but to the same God who
first formed us. It is but lately since we sprung from

VOL. I.— 58

458 THE NAME OF GOD

nothing, and how near are we still to the confines of no-
thing! We hang over the dreadful gulf of annihilation by
a slender thread of being, sustained by the self-originated
Jehovah. Remove him, take away his agency, and uni-
versal nature sinks into nothing at once. Take away the
root, and the branches wither : dry up the fountain, and the
streams cease. If any of you are such fools as to wish in
your hearts there were no God, you imprecate annihila-
tion upon the whole universe; you wish total destruction
to yourself and every thing else ; you wish the extinction
of all being. All depend upon God, the uncaused cause,
the only necessary Being. Suffer me here to make a
digression. Is this the God whom the daring sons of men
so much forget, dishonour, and disobey 1 Are they so
entirely dependent upon him, and yet careless how they
behave towards him, careless whether they love and please
him ? Do they owe their being and their all entirely to
him ? And are they wholly in his hand ? What then do
they mean by withholding their thoughts and affections
from him, breaking his laws and neglecting his gospel ?
Can you find a name for such a conduct? Would it not
be entirely incredible did we not see it with our eyes all
around us ? Sinners, what mean you by this conduct ?
Let the infant rend the womb that conceived it, or tear
the breasts that cherish it; go, poison or destroy the
bread that should feed you; dry up the streams that
should allay your thirst ; stop the breath that keeps you in
life : do these things, or do any thing, but oh ! do not for-
get, disobey, and provoke the very Father of your being,
to whom you owe it that you are not as much nothing
now as you were ten thousand years ago, and on whom
you depend, not only for this and that mercy, but for your
very being, every moment of your existence, in time and
eternity. He can do very well without you, but oh what

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 459

are you without him ! a stream without a fountain, a branch
without a root, an effect without a cause, a mere blank, a
nothing. He indeed is self-sufficient and self-existent.
It is nothing to him, as to his existence, whether creation
exists or not. Let men and angels and every creature
sink to nothing, from whence they came, his being is still
secure : he enjoys an unprecarious being of his own, ne-
cessarily, unchangeably, and eternally existent. Men and
angels bow the knee, fall prostrate and adore before this
Being of beings. How mean are you in his presence !
what poor, arbitrary, dependent, perishing creatures !
what shadows of existence ! what mere nothings ! And is
it not fit you should humbly acknowledge it 1 Can there
be any thing more unnatural, any thing more foolish, any
thing more audaciously wicked, than to neglect or con-
temn such a Being, the Being of beings, the Being that in-
cludes all being ? I can hardly bear up under the horror
of the thought.

III. The name Jehovah implies that God is eternal
that is, he always was, is, and ever will be. From ever-
lasting to everlasting he is God. Psalm xc. 2. This is
his grand peculiarity, he only hath immortality, 1 Tim. vi.
16, in a full and absolute sense. Men and angels indeed
are immortal, but it is but a kind of half-eternity they
enjoy. They once were nothing, and continued in that
state through an eternal duration. But as Jehovah never
will have an end, so he never had a beginning. This fol-
lows from his necessary self-existence. If the reason of
his existence be in himself, then unless he always existed
he never could exist, for nothing without himself could
cause him to exist. And if he exists by absolute necessity,
he must always exist, for absolute necessity is always the
same, without any relation to time or place. Therefore
he always was and ever will be.

460 THE NAME OF GOD

And what a wonderful Being is this ! a Being unbegun,
and that can never have an end! a being possessed of a
complete, entire eternity. Here, my brethren, let your
thoughts take wing, and fly backward and forward, and
see if you can trace his existence. Fly back in thought
about six thousand years, and all nature, as far as appears
to us, was a mere blank; no heaven nor earth, no men
nor angels. But still the great Eternal lived — lived alone,
self-sufficient and self-happy. Fly forward in thought as
far as the conflagration, and you will see "the heavens
dissolving, and the earth and the things that are therein
burnt up;" but still Jehovah lives unchangeable, and ab-
solutely independent. Exert all the powers of numbers,
add centuries to centuries, thousands to thousands, millions
to millions; fly back, back, back, as far as thought can
possibly carry you, still Jehovah exists : nay, you are even
then as far from the first moment of his existence as you
are now, or ever can be. Take the same prospect before
you, and you will find the King eternal and immortal still
the same : he is then no nearer an end than at the creation,
or millions of ages before it.

What a glorious being is this! Here, again, let men
and angels, and all the offspring of time, bow the knee and
adore. Let them lose themselves in this ocean, and spend
their eternity in ecstatic admiration and love of this eternal
Jehovah.

Oh ! what a glorious portion is he to his people ! Your
earthly enjoyments may pass away like a shadow; your
friends die, yourselves must die, and heaven and earth
may vanish like a dream, but your God lives ! he lives for
ever, to give you a happiness equal to your immortal dura-
tion. Therefore, blessed, blessed is the people whose God
is the LORD.

But oh! let sinners, let wicked men and devils tremble

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 461

before him, for how dreadful an enemy is an eternal God !
He lives for ever to punish you. He lives for ever to
hate your sin, to resent your rebellion, and to display his
justice; and while he lives you must be miserable. What
a dismal situation are you in, when the eternal existence
of Jehovah is an inexhaustible fund of terror to you ! Oh
how have you inverted the order of things, when you have
made it your interest that the Fountain of being should
cease to be, and that with him yourselves and all other
creatures should vanish into nothing! What a malignant
thing is sin, that makes existence a curse, and universal
annihilation a blessing! What a strange region is hell,
where being, so sweet in itself, and the capacity of all en-
joyments, is become the most intolerable burden, and
every wish is an imprecation of universal annihilation!
Sinners, you have now time to consider these miseries and
avoid them, and will you be so senseless and fool-hardy as
to rush headlong into them 1 Oh ! if you were but sen-
sible what will be the consequences of your conduct in a
few years, you would not need persuasions to reform it :
but oh the fatal blindness and stupidity of mortals, who
will not be convinced of these things till the conviction be
too late !

IV. The name of Jehovah implies that God is un-
changeable, or always the same. If he exists necessarily,
he must always necessarily be what he is, and cannot be
any thing else. He is dependent upon none, and there-
fore he can be subject to no change from another; and
he is infinitely perfect, and therefore cannot desire to
change himself. So that he must be always the same
through all duration, from eternity to eternity : the same,
not only as to his being, but as to his perfections; the
same in power, wisdom, goodness, justice, and happiness.
Thus he represents himself in his word, as " the Father

462 THE NAME OF GOD

of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow 6f
turning:" James i. 17; "the same yesterday, and to-day,
and for ever;" Heb. xiii. 8. What a distinguished per-
fection is this! and indeed it is in Jehovah only that im-
mutability can be a perfection. The most excellent
creature is capable of progressive improvements, and
seems intended for it; and to fix such a creature at first
in an immutable state, would be to limit and restrain it
from higher degrees of perfection, and keep it always in a
state of infancy. But Jehovah is absolutely, completely,
and infinitely perfect, at the highest summit of all possible
excellency, infinitely beyond any addition to his perfection,
and absolutely incapable of improvement; and consequently,
and as there is no room for, so there is no need of, a change
in him; and his immutability is a perpetual, invariable con-
tinuance in the highest degree of excellency, and therefore
the highest perfection. He is the cause and the spectator
of an endless variety of changes in the universe, without
the least change in himself. He sees worlds springing
into being, existing awhile, and then dissolving. He sees
kingdoms and empires forming, rising, and rushing head-
long to ruin. He changes the times and the seasons; he
removeth kings, and setteth up kings : Dan. ii. 21; and he
sees the fickleness and vicissitudes of mortals; he sees
generations upon generations vanishing like successive
shadows; he sees them now wise, now foolish; now in
pursuit of one thing, now of another; now happy, now
miserable, and in a thousand different forms. He sees
the revolutions in nature, the successions of the seasons,
and of night and day. These and a thousand other
alterations he beholds, and they are all produced or per-
mitted by his all-ruling providence; but all these make no
change in him; his being, his perfections, his counsels,
and his happiness, are invariably and eternally the same. >

PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 463

He is not wise, good, just, or happy, only at times, but
he is equally, steadily, and immutably so through the
whole of his infinite duration. Oh how unlike the fleet-
ing offspring of time, and especially the changing race of
man!

Since Jehovah is thus constant and unchangeable, how
worthy is he to be chosen as our best friend ! You that
love him need fear no change in him. They are not
small matters that will turn his heart from you : his love is
fixed with judgment, and he never will see reason to re-
verse it : it is not a transient fit of fondness, but it is de-
liberate, calm, and steady. You may safely trust your all
in his hands, for he cannot deceive you; and whatever or
whoever fail you, he will not. You live in a fickle, un-
certain world ; your best friends may prove treacherous
or cool towards you ; all your earthly comforts may wither
and die around you; yea, heaven and earth may pass away;
but your God is still the same. He has assured you of it
with his own mouth, and pointed out to you the happy
consequences of it : "I am the LORD ;" Jehovah, says he,
" I change not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not con-
sumed :" Mai. iii. 6.

What a complete happiness is this Jehovah to those
who have chosen him for their portion ! If an infinite
God is now sufficient to satisfy your utmost desires, he
will be so to all eternity. He is an ocean of communica-
tive happiness that never ebbs or flows, and therefore com-
pletely blessed will you ever be who have an interest in
him.

But oh ! how miserable are they who are the enemies
of this Jehovah! Sinners, he is unchangeable, and can
never lay aside his resentments against sin, or abate in the
least degree in his love of virtue and holiness. He will
never recede from his purpose to punish impenitent rebels,

464 THE NAME OF GOD PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF.

nor lose his power to accomplish it. His hatred of all
moral evil is not a transient passion, but a fixed, invariable,
deep-rooted hatred. Therefore, if ever you be happy,
there must be a change in you. As you are so opposite
to him, there must be an alteration in the one or the other ;
you see it cannot be in him, and therefore it must be in
you ; and this you ought to labour for above all other
things. Let us then have grace, whereby we may serve
God acceptably, with reverence and godly fear ; for our
God is a consuming fire, (Heb. xii. 28, 29,) to his impeni-
tent and implacable enemies.*

* Our author has evidently not finished his subject, and I do not find it
prosecuted in any of the discourses that have come to my hands ; but yet I
determined to publish the sermon, not only for its own (if I mistake not)
substantial worth, but the rather as the sermon that next follows in order,
may be considered as a prosecution, if not a completion of the great and
glorious subject he has undertaken, particularly of his professed design in
this sermon, "of explaining the several perfections here ascribed to God,
and showing that they all concur to constitute his goodness. The Editor.

GOD IS LOVE. 465

SERMON XVIII.

GOD IS LOVE.

1 JOHN iv. 8. — God is love.

LOVE is a gentle, pleasing theme, the noblest passion
of the human breast, and the fairest ornament of the ra-
tional nature. Love is the cement of society, and the
source of social happiness ; and without it the great com-
munity of the rational universe would dissolve, and men
and angels would turn savages, and roam apart in barbar-
ous solitude. Love is the spring of every pleasure; for
who could take pleasure in the possession of what he does
not love ! Love is the foundation of religion and mo-
rality ; for what is more monstrous than religion without
love to that God who is the object of it ? Or who can
perform social duties without feeling the endearments of
those relations to which they belong? Love is the
softener and polisher of human minds, and transforms bar-
barians into men; its pleasures are refined and delicate,
and even its pains and anxieties have something in them
soothing and pleasing. In a word, love is the brightest
beam of divinity that has ever irradiated the creation ; the
nearest resemblance to the ever-blessed God; for God is
love.

God is love. There is an unfathomable depth in this

concise laconic sentence, which even the penetration of an

angel's mind cannot reach ; an ineffable excellence, which

even celestial eloquence cannot fully represent. God is

VOL. I — 59

466 GOD IS LOVE.

love; not only lovely and loving, but love itself; pure,
unmixed love, nothing but love ; love in his nature and in
his operations ; the object, source, and quintessence of all
love.

My present design is to recommend the Deity to your
affections under the amiable idea of love, and for that end
to show that his other perfections are but various modifi-
cations of love.

I. Love comprehends the various forms of divine be-
neficence. Goodness, that extends its bounties to innu-
merable ranks of creatures, and diffuses happiness through
the various regions of the universe, except that which is
set apart for the dreadful, but salutary and benevolent pur-
pose of confining and punishing incorrigible malefactors;
grace, which so richly showers its blessings upon the un-
deserving, without past merit or the prospect of future
compensation ; mercy, that commisserates and relieves the
miserable as well as the undeserving ; patience and long-
suffering, which so long tolerate insolent and provoking
offenders ; what is all this beneficence in all these its dif-
ferent forms towards different objects, what but love under
various names ? It is gracious, merciful, patient and long-
suffering love ; love variegated, overflowing, and unbounded ;
what but love was the Creator of such a world as this, so
well accommodated, so richly furnished for the sustenance
and comfort of its inhabitants? and what but love has
planted it so thick with an endless variety of beings, all
capable of receiving some stream of happiness from that
immense fountain of it, the divine goodness ? Is it not
love that preserves such an huge unwieldy world as this
in order and harmony from age to age, and supplies all its
numerous inhabitants with every good ? and oh ! was it
not love, free, rich, unmerited love, that provided a Saviour
for the guilty children of men? It was because God

GOD IS LOVE. 467

loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life. John iii. 16. Oh love, what hast thou
done ! what wonders hast thou wrought ! It was thou,
almighty love, that broughtest down the Lord of glory
from his celestial throne, to die upon a cross an atoning
sacrifice for the sins of the world. And what but love is
it that peoples the heavenly world with colonies trans-
planted from this rebellious province of Jehovah's domin-
ions ; that forms such miracles of glory and happiness out
of the dust, and the shattered, polluted fragments of
human nature ! and what but eternal love perpetuates their
bliss through an eternal duration? but it is so evident, that
these instances of divine goodness are only the effects
of love, that it is needless to attempt any farther illustra-
tion.

II. What is divine wisdom but a modification of divine
love, planning the best adapted schemes for communi-
cating itself in the most advantageous, beneficent, and
honourable manner, so as to promote the good of the
great whole or collective system of creatures by the hap-
piness of individuals; or to render the punishment and
misery of individuals, which, for important reasons of state
may be sometimes necessary in a good government, sub-
servient to the same benevolent end ? Whatever traces
of divine wisdom we see in creation ; as the order and
harmony of the great system of nature, its rich and various
furniture, and the conspiracy of all its parts to produce
the good of each other and the whole ; whatever divine
wisdom appears in conducting the great scheme of pro-
vidence through the various ages of time ; or in the more
astonishing and godlike work of redemption ; in a word,
whatever displays of divine wisdom appear in any part of
the universe, they are only the signatures of divine love.

468 GOD IS LOVE.

Why was yonder sun fixed where he is, and enriched with
such extensive vital influences, but because divine love saw
it was best and most conducive to the good of the system ;
Why were our bodies so wonderfully and fearfully made,
and all their parts so well fitted for action and enjoyment,
but because divine love drew the plan, and stamped its
own amiable image upon them ? Why was the manifold
wisdom of God displayed, not only to mortals, but also to
angelic principalities and powers, Eph. iii. 10, in the
scheme of redemption, which advances at once the honours
of the divine perfections and government, and the happi-
piness of rebellious and ruined creatures, by an expedient
which nothing but infinite wisdom could ever devise, the
incarnation, the obedience, and passion of the co-equal
Son of God ? Why, I say, but because divine love would
otherwise be under restraint, and incapable of giving full
scope to its kind propensions in a manner honourable to
itself and conducive to the public good? In short, divine
wisdom appears to be nothing else but the sagacity of love,
to discover ways and means to exercise itself to the great-
est advantage; or, which is the same, divine wisdom al-
ways acts under the benign determination and conduct of
love; it is the counsellor of love to project schemes sub-
servient to its gracious purposes; and in all its councils
love presides.

III. What is divine power but the omnipotence of love ?
Why did omnipotence exert itself in the production of this
vast amazing world out of nothing ? It was to open a
channel in which the overflowing ocean of love might ex-
tend itself, and diffuse its streams from creature to crea-
ture, upwards as high as the most exalted archangel, and
downwards as low as the meanest vital particle of being,
and extensive as the remotest limits of the universe, and
all the innumerable intermediate ranks of existence in the

GOD IS LOVE. 469

endless chain of nature. And why does divine power
still support this prodigious frame, but to keep the channel
of love open from age to age? and for this purpose it will
be exerted to all eternity. Perhaps I should assist your
ideas of divine power, if I should call it the acting hand,
the instrument, the servant of love, to perform its orders,
and execute its gracious designs.

IV. What is the holiness of God but love — pure re-
fined, and honourable love? What is it but the love of
excellence, rectitude, and moral goodness? Holiness, in
its own nature, has a tendency to promote the happiness
of the universe ; it is the health, the good constitution of
a reasonable being; without which it has no capacity of
relishing those enjoyments which are suitable to its nature.
It is no arbitrary mandate of heaven that has established
the inseparable connection between holiness and happiness,
between vice and misery. The connection is as necessary,
as immutable, and as much founded in the nature of things,
as that between health of body and a capacity of animal
enjoyments, or between sickness and a disrelish for the
most agreeable food. Every creature in the universe, as
far as he is holy, is happy; and as far as he is unholy, he
is miserable. Therefore, by how much the more holy
Jehovah is, by so much the more fit he is to communicate
happiness to all that enjoy him ; and consequently he is an
infinite happiness, for he is infinitely holy. His taking so
much care to promote holiness is but taking care of the
public good. The strict exactions of his law, which con-
tains every ingredient of the most perfect holiness, and ad-
mits of no dispensation, are but strict injunctions to his
subjects to pursue that course which infallibly leads them
to the most consummate happiness ; and every abatement
in his demands of obedience would be a license to them to
deduct so much from their happiness, and render them-

470 GOD IS LOVE.

selves so far miserable with his consent. That mitigation
of the rigour of his law, which some imagine he has made
to bring it down to a level with the abilities of degenerate
creatures, disabled by their voluntary wickedness, would
no more contribute to their felicity than the allowing a
sick man to gratify his vitiated taste by mixing a little
deadly poison in his food would contribute to the recovery
of his health, or the preservation of his life. The penal
sanctions of the divine law are but friendly warnings against
danger and misery, and honest admonitions of the destruc-
tive consequences of sin, according to the unchangeable
nature of things ; they are threatenings which discover no
malignity or ill-nature, as sinners are apt to imagine, but
the infinite benevolence of the heart of God ; threatenings
which are not primarily and unconditionally intended to
be executed, but to prevent all occasion of their being exe-
cuted, by preventing sin, the natural source, as well as the
meritorious cause of every misery : threatenings which are
not executed, but as the only expedient left in a desperate
case, when all other means have been used in vain, and
no other method can secure the public good, or render a
worthless criminal a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction,
and fit for nothing else ; of no other service to the great
community of rational beings. These are some of the
ingredients and displays of the holiness of God : and what
are these but so many exertions of pure love and benevo-
lence? It is because he loves his creatures so much that
he requires them to be so holy : and that very thing, against
which there are so many cavils and objections, as too severe
and oppressive, and a rigid restraint from the pursuit of
pleasure, is the highest instance of the love of God for
them, and his regard for their happiness.

Let me therefore commence advocate for God with my
fellow-men, though it strikes me with horror to think there

GOD IS LOVE. 471

should be any occasion for it. Ye children of the most
tender Father, ye subjects of the most gracious and right-
eous Sovereign, ye beneficiaries of divine love, why do
you harbour hard thoughts of him ? Is it because his laws
are so strict, and tolerate you in no guilty pleasure ? This
appointment is the kind restraint of love : the love of so
good a being, will not allow him to dispense with your ob-
servance of any thing that may contribute to your im-
provement and advantage, nor indulge you in any thing
that is in its own nature deadly and destructive, no more
than a father will suffer a favourite child to play with a
viper, or a good government permit a madman to run at
large armed with weapons to destroy himself and others.
Do you think hard of God because he hates all moral evil
to such a degree, that he has annexed to it everlasting
misery of the most exquisite kind? But what is this but
an expression of his infinite hatred to every thing that is
hurtful to his creatures, and his infinite regard to whatever
tends to their benefit? Or has he been too rigid in exact-
ing holiness as a necessary pre-requisite to the happiness
of heaven ? You may as well complain of the constitution
of nature, that renders abstinence from poison necessary
to the preservation of health, or that does not allow you
to quench your thirst in a fever with cold water. Let me
remind you once more, that holiness is essential to the hap-
piness of heaven, and that without it you labour under a
moral incapacity of enjoyment; and a moral incapacity
will as inevitably deprive you of the pleasures of enjoy-
ment, as if it were natural. While unholy you can no
more be happy even in the region of happiness than a
stone can enjoy the pleasure of animal life, or a me're ani-
mal those of reason. " But why," you will perhaps mur-
mur and object, " why has God formed such a heaven as
cannot be universally enjoyed ? Why has he not provided

472 GOD IS LOVE.

a happiness for every taste ?" You may as well ask why
he has not created a light that would be equally agreeable to
every eye ; to the mole and the owl, as well as to man and
the eagle? Or why has he not formed light with all the
properties of darkness ; that is, why has he not performed
contradictions? You may as well query, why has he not
given us equal capacities of enjoyments in sickness and in
health, and furnished us with equal pleasures in both? I
tell you that, in the nature of things, the low and impure
pleasures which would suit the depraved taste of the wicked,
would be nauseous and painful to pure minds refined and
sanctified ; and they cannot mingle, they cannot approach
each other without being destroyed. The element of
water may as well be converted into a fit residence for the
inhabitants of dry land, and yet retain all its properties that
are suitable to its present natives ; or the solid earth be-
come a fit receptacle for fishes, and yet both it and the
fishes retain their usual qualities. In short, men, beasts,
birds, fishes, insects, angels, devils, the inhabitants of every
zone and climate, of every planet, or any other region of
the universe, may as well form one society in one and the
same place, and mingle their respective food and pleasures,
as a heaven of happiness be prepared that would suit every
taste. God has prepared the only kind of heaven that is
in its own nature possible ; the only one that would be an
expression of love, or afford real and extensive happiness
to such of his creatures as are capable of it. The heaven
of sinners would be a nuisance to all other beings in the
universe ; a private good only to malefactors, at the ex-
pense of the public ; an open reward of wickedness, and
a public discountenancing of all moral goodness. This
would be the case upon the supposition that the heaven of
sinners were possible. But the supposition is infinitely
absurd ; it is as impossible as the pleasures of sickness, the

GOD IS LOVE. 473

sensibility of a stone, or the meridian splendours of mid-
night.

Therefore acknowledge, admire, and love the beauty of
the Lord, his holiness. Give thanks, says the Psalmist,
at the remembrance of his holiness, Ps. xcvii. 12, of his
holiness, as well as of his goodness and love ; for it is the
brightest modification of his love and goodness. An un-
holy being, in the character of supreme magistrate of the
universe, cannot all be love, or communicate nothing but
what is pleasing to all; nay, as far as he is unholy he
must have a malignant disposition towards the public hap-
piness, and be essentially deficient in benevolence.

V. What is the justice, even the punitive justice of God,
but a modification of love and goodness !

As there is no divine perfection which appears so terri-
ble to offenders as this, which therefore they toil and sweat
to disprove or explain away, I shall dwell the longer upon
it. And I hope to convince you that justice is not that
grim, stern, tremendous attribute which is delineated by
the guilty, partial imagination of sinners, who have made
it their interest that there should be no such attribute to
Deity, but that it is infinitely amiable and lovely, as well
as awful and majestic ; nay, that it is love and benevolence
itself.

By the punitive justice of God, I mean that perfection
of his nature which executes the sentence of his law upon
offenders, or inflicts upon them the punishment he had threat-
ened to disobedience, exactly according to his own denun-
ciation. The present world, which is a state of trial and
discipline, and not of final rewards and punishments, is not
the proper theatre of vindictive justice, but of a promis-
cuous providence : All things come alike to all, and no man
can know the love or hatred of the Ruler of the world to-
him, by all that is before him. Eccles. ix. 1, 2. Yet, some-

YOL. I.— 60

474 GOD IS LOVE.

times, even in this life, justice arrests the guilty, and dis-
plays its illustrious terrors upon them, especially upon
guilty nations that have no existence in a national capacity
in the eternal world, and therefore can be punished in that
capacity in this only. It was vindictive justice that deluged
the whole world in a flood of vengeance ; that kindled the
flames of Sodom and Gomorrah ; and that cut oif the na-
tions of Canaan when they had filled up the measure of
their iniquities. It is justice that arms kingdoms from age
to age, and makes them the executioners of divine wrath
upon one another, while they are gratifying their own am-
bition, avarice, or revenge. The devastations of earth-
quakes, inundations, plagues, epidemical sicknesses, famines,
and the various calamities in which mankind have been in-
volved, are so many displays of divine justice; and their
being brought on the world according to the course of na-
ture, and by means of secondary causes, will by no means
prove that they are not so, but only that the very make
and constitution of this world are so planned and formed
by divine wisdom as to admit of the execution of justice
at proper periods, and that all its parts are the instruments
of justice to accomplish its designs. But these and all
the other judgments of heaven upon our world are only
preludes and specimens of the most perfect administration
of it in a future state. There the penalty of the law will
be executed upon impenitent offenders with the utmost im-
partiality. And Revelation assures us that the punishment
will be endless in duration, and of as exquisite a kind and
high degree as the utmost capacity of the subject will ad-
mit; and consequently that it will not, like fatherly chas-
tisements, have any tendency to their reformation or advan-
tage, but to their entire and everlasting destruction. Now
it is this display of punitive justice that appears so terrible
and cruel to the guilty children of men ; and therefore this

GOD IS LOVE. 475

is what I shall principally endeavour to vindidate and to
clothe with all the gentle and amiable glories of love and
public benevolence.

For this end I beg you would consider, that whatever
has a tendency to prevent sin tends to prevent misery
also, and to promote the happiness of the world and of all
the individuals in it; that good laws are absolutely neces-
sary for the prevention of sin; that penal sanctions are
essential to good laws; and that the execution of the penal
sanctions upon offenders is absolutely necessary to their
efficacy and good tendency; and consequently the execu-
tion of them is a display of love and benevolence.

Consider also, that many are excited to seek everlasting
happiness, and deterred from the ways that lead down to
destruction, by means of the threatenings of the law : that
even those on whom they are finally executed were once
in a capacity of receiving immortal advantage from them,
but defeated their good influence and tendency by their
own wilful obstinacy : and that the righteous execution of
these threatenings upon the incorrigible, may promote the
common good of the universe.

Consider farther, that criminals are incompetent judges
of vindictive justice, because they are parties ; and there-
fore we should not form an estimate of it by their pre-
judices, but from the judgment of the disinterested and
impartial part of the creation.

Finally consider, that proceedings similar to those of the
divine government, are not only approved of as just in all
human governments, but also loved and admired as amiable
and praiseworthy, and essential to the goodness and be-
nevolence of a ruler.

Let us briefly illustrate these several classes of proposi-
tions.

I. " Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin, tends to

476 GOD IS LOVE.

prevent misery also, and to promote the happiness of the
universe and of all the individuals in it: good laws are
absolutely necessary for the prevention of sin : penal
sanctions are essential to good laws; and the season-
able execution of those sanctions is absolutely necessary
to their efficacy and good tendency; and consequently
the execution of them is a display of love and benevo-
lence."

" Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin, tends to pre-
vent misery also," and that for this reason, because sin is
necessarily productive of misery, and destructive of happi-
ness. Can a rational creature be happy that is disaffected
to the Supreme Good, the only source of that kind of hap-
piness which is adapted to a rational nature ? This is as
impossible as that you should enjoy animal pleasures while
you abhor all animal enjoyments. Can a social creature
be happy in eternal solitude, or in a state of society, while
ill-affected towards the other members of society, or while
they are ill-affected towards him and he to them, hateful,
and hating one another ? Can a creature, formed capable
of felicity superior to what any good can communicate,
be happy in the eager pursuit of bubbles; that is, of
its highest happiness in inferior enjoyments? All those
dispositions of heart, and the practices resulting from
them, in which sin consists, enmity to God, uneasy mur-
murings and insurrections against his perfections, and the
government of his law and providence; a churlish, malig-
nant, envious temper towards mankind; an anxious, exces-
sive eagerness of desire after vain, unsatisfactory enjoy-
ments; a disrelish for the exalted pleasures of holiness and
benevolence; what are these and the like dispositions, but
so many ingredients of misery, and so many abatements
of happiness? and consequently all measures that are
taken for the prevention of sin are so many benevolent ex-

GOD IS LOVE. 477

pedients for the prevention of misery and the increase of
happiness.

I add, " good laws are absolutely necessary for the pre-
vention of sin." Indeed those dispositions and actions
which are sinful and forbidden by the divine law would be
of a deadly nature to the soul, even if they were not for-
bidden, as a stab to the heart would prove mortal to the
body, although there were no laws against it, and for that
very reason laws have been made against it. Therefore
the laws of God do not properly constitute the destructive
nature of sin, but only point out and warn us against what
is destructive in its own nature previous to all explicit
law. And is it not absolutely necessary, and an act of the
highest benevolence, that the supreme Lawgiver should
warn us against this pernicious evil, and plainly inform us
what it is? This is the design of his laws both natural
and revealed. And without them, what sure instructor,
what unerring guide, or what strong inducements to a
proper conduct could we have in this most important case?
Is it not necessary, is it not kind, that the supreme Legis-
lator should interpose his authority, and lay us under the
strongest obligations to avoid our own ruin ? And if good
laws are necessary, so are penal sanctions; for "penal
sanctions are essential to good laws." Laws without
penalties would be only the advices of an equal or an in-
ferior, and not the obligatory commands of authority.
They might be observed or not, according to pleasure,
and consequently would answer no valuable purpose.
They would also be infinitely absurd in their own nature;
for if what the law enjoins be reasonable, necessary, and
of good tendency, is it not necessary and fit that they who
do not observe it should feel the bad effects of their omis-
sion ? And what is this but a penalty? But on a point
so plain I need not multiply words; I appeal to the com-

478 GOD IS LOVE.

mon sense of mankind, I appeal to the universal practice
of all governments. Have there ever been, or can there
possibly be any laws without penal sanctions? Would
not such laws be exposed to perpetual insult and contempt,
and be destitute of all force and energy? The common
sense and universal practice of all the world, in all ages,
remonstrate against such an absurdity. But if penal sanc-
tions are essential to good laws, then so is their execution ;
for—

" The seasonable execution of penal sanctions is abso-
lutely necessary to their efficacy and good tendency."
Penalties denounced can have no efficacy upon the subject
of the law; that is, they cannot excite fear, and by that
means deter them from disobedience, unless they are be-
lieved, and their execution expected. But they would
soon cease to be believed, and their execution would no
longer be expected, if in several instances they should be
dispensed with, and a succession of sinners should pass
with impunity. Other sinners, judging of future events
by past facts, would expect the same indulgence, and
therefore venture upon disobedience without any restraint
from the penalty of the law. Here again I shall bring
the matter to a quick decision, by appealing to the com-
mon reason and universal practice of mankind. Would
human laws have any force if the penalty was hung up as
an empty terror, and never executed ? Would not such
laws be liable to perpetul violation and insult, and become
the sport of daring offenders ? Would not the escapes of
former offenders encourage all future generations to give
themselves a-loose, in hopes of the same exemption ? Is
it not necessary in all government that public justice should
make examples of some, to warn and deter others ? Have
not all nations, especially the more civilized, made such
examples? And have not all the impartial world com-

GOD IS LOVE. 479

mended their proceeding as necessary to the safety and
happiness of society, and expressive of their regard to the
public good?

View all these things together, and methinks I may bid
defiance to common sense to draw any other conclusion
than that the justice of God, in executing the penalties of
his law upon impenitent offenders, is the heighth of good-
ness and love. If love requires that all proper expedients
be used for the prevention of sin ; if good laws are neces-
sary for this end ; if penalties are essential to good laws ;
and if the seasonable execution of penalties be absolutely
necessary to give them their benevolent force and good
tendency, does it not unavoidably follow, that love itself
requires both the enacting of penal sanctions to the law of
God, and the execution of them upon proper subjects?
Without this wholesome severity, the divine laws would
be less secure from contempt, and the divine government
would be less favourable to the peace and happiness of the
subjects than the laws and governments of mortals in all
civilized nations.

" But why does the penalty rise so high ? Why is the
execution lengthened out through everlasting ages 1 Why
might not a gentler punishment suffice?" This is the
grand objection ; and in such language as this the enmity
of the rebellious heart against the justice of God gene-
rally expresses itself. But if the original design and
natural tendency of the threatened penalty be to prevent
sin, then by how much severer the penalty, by so much
the more effectual tendency has it to answer this kind
design. No punishment can rise higher than those which
a righteous God has annexed to disobedience the natural
source of every misery; and what is this but to say that no
methods more effectual can be taken to prevent it than
what he has actually taken ? We may therefore infer the

480 GOD IS LOVE.

ardor of the love of God from the terror of his threaten-
ings. He has denounced the greatest misery against sin,
in order to restrain his creatures from running into that
very misery ; and threatens the loss of heaven, in order to
prevent his creatures from losing it.

I must also here repeat the common argument, which
appears to me as valid as common ; " that as the essence
of sin consists in the breach of an obligation, the evil of
sin must be exactly proportioned to the strength of the
obligation;" that as we are undoubtedly under infinite
obligations to a God of infinite excellency, our Maker,
Ruler, and Benefactor, the evil of sin, which violates those
obligations, must be infinite also ; and that no punishment
short of what is infinite can be adequate to the demerit of
an infinite evil, and consequently sinners ought to suffer a
finite punishment through an infinite duration, because that
is the only way in which they are able to bear an infinite
punishment. But on this common topic a few hints may
suffice.

I proceed to the next set of propositions.

II. " That many are excited to the pursuit of everlast-
ing happiness, and deterred from the ways of destruction,
by means of threatenings of the divine law; that even
those unhappy creatures on whom they are finally exe-
cuted were once in a capacity of receiving immortal
advantage from them, but defeated their good influence
and tendency by their own wilful obstinacy : and that
the righteous execution of these threatenings upon the incor-
rigible may promote the common good of the universe."

" Many are excited to the pursuit of everlasting happi-
ness, and deterred from the ways of destruction, by means
of the. threatenings of the divine law." I appeal to expe-
rience and observation, whether the terrors of the Lord
are not the very first thing that gives a check to sinners in

GOD IS LOVE. 481

their headlong career to ruin ? It is the law that worketh
wrath, Rom. iv. 15 ; that is, an alarming apprehension of
the wrath of God against sin ; and constrains them to use
the instituted means of deliverance. Thus even the ter-
rors of the law are made subservient to divine love, in
" turning sinners from the error of their way, and saving
souls from death." And could we consult the glorious
assembly of the spirits of just men made perfect, they
would all own that if their heavenly Father had not threat-
ened them so severely, they would always have continued
undutiful, and consequently rendered themselves miserable ;
and that they were saved from hell by being honestly
warned of the danger of falling into it. It is true there
are multitudes who do not receive this advantage by the
penal sanctions of the divine law, but are made miserable
for ever by the execution of them ; yet it may be added,

" That even those unhappy creatures on whom they are
executed, were once in a capacity of receiving infinite ad-
vantage from them, but defeated their good influence and
tendency in their own wilful obstinacy." The threaten-
ings of the divine law had the same good tendency in their
own nature with respect to them, to deter them from dis-
obedience, and urge their pursuit of happiness, as with
respect to others; and these were some of the means of
God appointed for their salvation. But they hardened
themselves against them and thus defeated their good ten-
dency, and obstinately ruined themselves in defiance of
warning : they even forced a passage into the infernal pit
through the strongest enclosures. But if they had not
been thus warned, they not only would not have been
saved in the event, but they would not have enjoyed the
means of salvation. Now their enjoying these means was
in itself an inexpressible blessing, though in the issue it
only aggravates their misery ; and consequently the enact-

. I.— 61

482 GOD IS LOVE.

ing those penalties to the divine law was really an act of
kindness even to them ; and their abuse of the blessing
does not alter its nature. The primary and direct end of
a penalty is not the punishment of the subjects, but to
restrain them from things injurious to themselves, and
others, and urge them to pursue their own interest. But
when this good end is not answered, by reason of their
wilful folly and disobedience, then, and not till then, the
execution is necessary for the good of others,* which leads
me to add,

" That the righteous execution of the threatened penalty
upon the incorrigible may promote the common good of
the universe." This world of ours is a public theatre,
surrounded with numerous spectators, who are interested
in its affairs. Angels, in particular, are witnesses of the
proceedings of Providence towards mankind and thence
learn the perfections of God, and the maxims of his
government. Hell is also a region dreadfully conspicuous
to them ; and there, no doubt, the offended Judge intends
to show his wrath, and make his power known to them as
well as to mankind. Now they are held in obedience by
rational motives, and not by any mechanical compulsion.
And among other motives of a gentler kind, no doubt this
is one of no small weight; namely, their observing the
destructive consequences of sin upon men and angels, and

* Penalties, operate, like final causes, by a kind "f retrospective influence ;
that is, whilst they are only threatened, and the subject expects they will be
executed, should he turn disobedient, they have a powerful tendency to de-
ter him from disobedience. But they could not have this benevolent ten-
dency, unless they be executed upon those, on whom their primary and
chief design is not obtained : namely, the restraining of them from sin. It
is enough that the offenders themselves once had an opportunity of taking
warning, and reaping the advantage of the threatened penalty, while they
were in a state of trial, and candidates for eternity. But it is absurd
that they should receive any benefit from it. when, after sufficient trial, it
appears they will take no warning, but are resolved to persist in sin, in de-
fiance of the most tremendous penalties.

GOD IS LOVE. 483

the terrible displeasure of God against it. It is not at all
inconsistent with their dignity and purity to suppose them
swayed by this motive in a proper connection with others
of a more disinterested and generous nature. Therefore
the confirmation of the elect angels in holiness, and their
everlasting happiness is no doubt not a little secured and
promoted by the execution of righteous punishment upon
some notorious hardened malefactors, both of their own
order and of the human race.

The same thing may be said of the spirits of just men
made perfect ; they are happily incapable of sinning, and
consequently of becoming miserable ; but their incapacity
arises from the clear conviction of their understanding,
which has the conduct of their will ; and, while sin appears
to them so deadly and destructive an evil, it is impossible,
according to the make of a rational nature, that they should
choose it. But the consequences of sin upon the wretched
creatures on whom the penalty denounced against it is
executed, is no doubt one thing that affords them this con-
viction; and so it contributes to their perseverance in obe-
dience and happiness. Thus the joys of heaven are
secured by the pains of hell, and even the most noxious
criminals, the enemies of God and his creatures, are not
useless in the universe, but answer the terrible but benevo-
lent end of warning all other creatures against disobedience ;
which would involve them in the same misery, just as the
execution of a few malefactors in human governments is of
extensive service to the rest of the subjects.

But as the greater part of mankind perish, it may be
queried, " How is it consistent with love and goodness,
that the majority should be punished and made monu-
ments of justice, for the benefit of the smaller number ?"
To this I reply, that though it be equally evident from
Scripture and observation, that the greater part of man-

484 GOD IS LOVE.

kind go down to destruction in the smooth, broad descend-
ing road of sin, in the ordinary ages of the world ; and
though revelation assures us that the number of the apos-
tate angels is very great, yet I think we have no reason to
conclude that the greater part of the rational creation
shall be miserable; nay, it is possible the number of those
on whom the penalty of the divine law is inflicted, may
bear no more proportion to that of the innumerable ranks
of creatures that may be retained in obedience and happi-
ness by means of their conspicuous and exemplary pun-
ishment, than the number of criminals executed in our
government, for the warning of others, bears to the rest
of the subjects. If we consider that those who have been
redeemed from the earth, even in the ordinary ages of the
world, though comparatively but few, yet absolutely are a
" multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and
kindreds, and people, and tongues, Rev. vii. 9, and that
the elect angels are an innumerable company* Heb. xii.
22, perhaps much greater than the legions of hell ; if to
those we add the prodigious numbers that shall be con-
verted in that long and blessed season when Satan shall be
bound, when the prince of peace shall reign, and when
"the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the
kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given to the
people of the saints of the Most High," Dan. vii. 27, in
which not only the greater number of the generations that
shall live in that glorious millennium shall be saved, but
perhaps a greater number than all that perished in former
generations, which is very possible, if we consider the
long continuance of that time, and that the world will then

* I do not forget that the original is myriads of angels. But the word is
often, I think, generally used in the Greek classics, not for any definite
number, but for a great and innumerable multitude. And so it is used
here.

GOD IS LOVE. 485

be under the peculiar blessing of heaven, and consequently
mankind will multiply faster, and not be diminished as
they now are by the calamities of war, plagues, epidemical
sicknesses, and the other judgments of God upon those
times of rebellion ; if we also borrow a little light from
the hypothesis of philosophy, and suppose that the other
planets of our system are peopled like our earth with
proper inhabitants, and particularly with reasonable crea-
tures, (for he that made those vast bodies made them not
in vain, he made them to be inhabited ;) if we further sup-
pose that each of the innumerable fixed stars is a sun, the
centre of habitable worlds, and that all these worlds, like
our own, swarm with life, and particularly with various
classes of reasonable beings, (which is not at all unlikely,
if we argue from parity of cases, from things well known
to things less known, or from the immense everflowing
goodness, wisdom and power of the great Creator, who
can replenish the infinite voids of space with being, life,
and reason, and with equal ease produce and support ten
thousand worlds as ten thousand grains;) if we suppose
that his creative perfections will not lie inactive for ever,
contented with one exertion for six days but that he still em-
ploys and will employ them for ever in causing new worlds,
replenished with moral agents, to start into existence here
and there in the endless vacancies of space ; and finally,
if we suppose that the flames of hell will blaze dreadfully
bright and conspicuous in the view of all present and
future creations ; or that the destructive nature of sin will
be some way or another made known to the rational in-
habitants of all worlds by the punishment inflicted upon a
number of men and angels, and that by this means they
are effectually deterred from sin, and preserved from the
misery inseparable from it; I say, if we admit these sup-
positions, some of which are undoubtedly true, and the

486 GOD IS LOVE.

rest I think not improbable, then it will follow that the
number of holy and happy creatures in the universe will
be incomparably greater than that of miserable criminals,
and that the punishment of the latter is one principal mean
of preserving this infinite number in obedience and happi-
ness ; and consequently is highly conducive to the public
happiness, and expressive of the love and goodness of the
universal Ruler to the immense community of his subjects.
And thus God is love, even in the most terrible displays
of his vindictive justice.

To illustrate this subject, consider farther :
III. " That criminals are incompetent judges of vin-
dictive justice." They are parties, and it is their interest
there should be no such attribute as justice in the Deity.
It is natural for them to flatter themselves that their crimes
are small ; that their Judge will suffer them to escape with
impunity, or with a gentle punishment, and that if he
should do otherwise, he would be unmerciful, unjust, and
cruel. The excess of self-love suggests to them a thou-
sand excuses and extenuations of their guilt, and flatters
them with a thousand favourable presumptions. An im-
penitent criminal is always an ungenerous, mean-spirited,
selfish creature, and has nothing of that noble, disinterested
self-denial and impartiality which would generously con-
demn himself and approve of that sentence by which he
dies. A little acquaintance with the conduct of mankind
will soon make us sensible of their partiality and wrong
judgments in matters where self is concerned; and par-
ticularly how unfit they are to form an estimate of justice
when themselves are to stand as criminals at its bar. Now
this is the case of all mankind in the affair now under
consideration. They are criminals at the bar of divine
justice ; they are the parties to be tried ; they are under
the dominion of a selfish spirit; it is natural to them to

GOD IS LOVE. 487

palliate their own crimes, and to form flattering expecta-
tions from the clemency of their Judge. And are they
tit persons to prescribe to their Judge how he should deal
with him, or what measure of punishment he ought to
inflict upon them? Sinners! dare you usurp this high
province ! Dare you

" Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
Kejudge his justice, be the god of God !"*

Rather stand at the bar, ye criminals! that is your place.
Do not dare to ascend the throne ; that is the place of
your Judge. Stand silent, and await his righteous sen-
tence, which is always just, always best; or, if creatures
must judge of the justice of their Sovereign, I appeal to
the saints; I appeal to angels, those competent disinter-
ested judges; I appeal to every upright, impartial being
in the universe. They approve, they celebrate, they ad-
mire, and love all the displays of punitive justice, as ne-
cessary to the public good ; and their judgment may be
depended on; it is not misled by ignorance nor perverted
by self-interest. To whom would you appeal as judges
of the proceedings of courts of justice among men ? To
malefactors in a dungeon, who have made justice their
enemy, and who are therefore enemies to it ? No ; but
you would appeal to obedient subjects, who are not obnox-
ious to justice themselves, but enjoy protection under its
guardianship, and are sensible of its beauty and public
utility. They all approve it with one voice, and would
look upon a supreme Magistrate without it as a very con-
temptible and odious character, and essentially deficient in
goodness. Hence it follows that even the punitive justice
of God not only is in reality, but to all impartial judges
appears to be a most amiable, engaging, and beneficent

* Pope's Essay on Man.

488 GOD IS LOVE.

perfection ; majestic indeed, but not forbidding ; awful, but
not sullen and hateful; terrible, but only to criminals; and
destructive only to what destroys the public good. I have
so far anticipated myself that I need hardly add,

IV. " That proceedings similar to those of the divine
government are not only approved of as just in all human
governments, but also loved and admired as amiable and
praise-worthy, and highly essential to the goodness and
benevolence of a ruler."

Does the supreme Lawgiver annex severe penalties to
his laws, which render the disobedient miserable for ever?
So do human governments, with the unanimous approba-
tion of their subjects ; they inflict punishments that affect
life, and cut off the offender from civil society forever;
and this is the only kind of everlasting punishment that can
be endured or executed by mortals. Does Jehovah main-
tain good order in his immense empire, protect his sub-
jects, and deter them from offending by making examples
of the guilty ? and does he secure and advance the good
of the whole by the conspicuous punishment of obnoxious
individuals ? This is done every day for the same ends in
human governments, and that with universal approbation.
Does he inflict punishments that are not at all intended for
the reformation and advantage of the guilty sufferer, but
only for the admonition and benefit of others? This is
always the case in human governments when the punish-
ments reaches to the life ; for then the offender himself is
put out of all capacity of reformation or personal advan-
tage by it, but he suffers entirely for the good of others.
Even criminals must be made useful to society; and this
is the only use they are fit to answer. Would it not be
inexpedient and greatly injurious for a magistrate, in his
public character, to forgive crimes and suffer criminals to
escape, though to do so in a private character might be a

GOD is LOVE. 439

virtue ? Just so God, who is the supreme Magistrate of
the universe, and not at all to be considered, in this case,
as a private person acting only in a private character ; the
great God, I say, is obliged, by his regard for his own
honour and the benefit of his subjects, to inflict proper
punishments and distribute his pardoning mercy to indi-
viduals consistently with the general good of the whole.
What would be revenge in a private person, which is the
ruling passion of devils, is justice, honour, and benevo-
lence itself in the supreme ruler of the world; and a
failure in this would render him not only less glorious and
majestic, but less amiable, less beneficent to his creatures.
I know hardly any thing of so much importance to
give us just sentiments of the proceedings of God, with
his creatures, as that we should conceive of him as a moral
Ruler, or the supreme Magistrate of the world. And it
is owing to their not considering him in this character
that sinners indulge such mistaken, dangerous presump-
tions concerning him. They choose to conceive of him
under some fond and tender name, as a Being of infinite
grace, the indulgent Father of his creatures, &c. All
this is true ; but it is equally true that he is their moral
Ruler as well as their Father. His creatures are his sub-
jects as well as his children : and he must act the wise
and righteous Magistrate as well as the tender Father to-
wards them. His goodness is that of a Ruler, and not of
a private person ; and his pardoning of sin and receiving
offenders into favour, are not private kindnesses, but acts
of government, and therefore they must be conducted with
the utmost wisdom ; for a wrong step in his infinite admin-
istration, which affects such innumerable multitudes of sub-
jects, would be an infinite evil, and might admit of no
reparation.

Though I have thus enlarged upon this subject, yet I

VOL. I.— ti2

490 GOD IS LOVE.

am far from exhausting my materials. But these things, I
hope, are sufficient to convince your understandings that
divine justice is not that unkind, cruel, and savage thing
sinners are wont to imagine it; but that God is just, be-
cause God is love ; and that he punishes, not because he
is the enemy, but because he is the friend of his crea-
tures, and because he loves the whole too well to let par-
ticular offenders do mischief with impunity.*

I shall only add, that this is the view Jehovah has given
of himself in the clearest manifestation of his perfections
that he ever made to mortals. He promises his favourite
Moses, that he would make all his goodness pass before
him. Observe, it is his goodness he intends to exhibit ;
and the proclamation runs thus : " The LORD, the LORD
God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, forgiving ini-
quity," &c. That these are acts or modifications of good-
ness, will be easily granted. But observe, it is added even
in this proclamation of his goodness, That he will by no
means clear the guilty; intimating, that to be just and
punish sin is an act of goodness, as well as to be merciful
and to forgive it.

And now when we have this copious subject in review,
does it not suggest to us such conclusions as these :

* It may perhaps be objected, " That to represent justice under the notion
of love is to affect singularity in language, to destroy the distinction of the
divine attributes, and the essential difference of things." — To which I
answer, 1. That a catachresis may be beautiful and emphatical, though it be
always a seeming impropriety in language. Such is this representation,
"Divine justice, divine love." 2. I do not deny that God's executing
righteous punishment upon the guilty may be called justice ; but then it is
his love to the public that excites him to do this; and therefore his doing it
may be properly denominated love, as well as justice, or love under the
name of justice, which is love still. 3. I do not mean that the usual names
of things should be changed, but that we should affix suitable ideas to them.
We may retain the name of justice still, but let us not affix ideas to it that
are inconsistent with divine love. Let us not look upon it as the attribute
of a tyrant, but of a wise and good ruler.

GOD IS LOVE.

I. May we not conclude that the case of impenitent
sinners is desperate indeed, when it is not excessive rigour,
not a malignity of temper, nor tyranny, or a savage delight
in torture that condemns them, but goodness itself, love
itself? Even the gentler perfections of the Deity, those
from which they derive their presumptuous hopes, are
conspired against them, and unite their forces to render
them miserable, in order to prevent greater misery from
spreading through the universe. Impenitent sinners ! even
the unbounded love of God to his creatures is your enemy.
Love, under the name and form of justice, which is equally
love still, demands your execution ; and to suffer you to
escape would not only be an act of injustice, but an act of
malignity and hostility against the whole system of rational
beings. Therefore repent and be holy, otherwise divine
love will not suffer you to be happy. God is love ; there-
fore will he confine you in the infernal prison, as a regard
to the public welfare in human governments shuts up crimi-
nals in a dungeon, and madmen in Bedlam.

II. May we not hence conclude that all the acts of the
Deity may be resolved into the benevolent principle of
love ? God is love ; therefore he made this vast universe,
and planted it so thick with variegated life. God is love ;
therefore he still rules the world he has made, and in-
flicts chastisements and judgments upon it from every
age. God is love ; therefore he spared not his own Son,
but made him the victim of his justice. God is love ;
therefore he requires perfect holiness, perfect obedience
from all his subjects. God is love ; therefore he has en-
acted such tremendous sanctions to his law, and executes
them in their full extent upon offenders. God is love ;
therefore he has made the prison of hell, and there con-
fines in chains of everlasting darkness those malevolent
creatures, that would be a nuisance to society, and public

492 GOD IS LOVE.

mischiefs, if suffered to run at large In short, whatever
he does, he does it because he is love. How amiable a
view of him is this ! Therefore,

III. We may certainly conclude that if God be love,
then all his creatures ought to love him. Love him, O
all ye inhabitants of heaven ! But they need not my ex-
hortation; they know him, and therefore cannot but love
him. Love him, all ye inhabitants of the planetary worlds !
if such there be. These also, I hope, need no exhor-
tation, for we would willingly persuade ourselves that other
territories of this immense empire have not rebelled against
him as this earth has done. Love him, O ye children of
men ! To you I call: but oh ! I fear I shall call in vain.
To love him who is all love is the most hopeless proposal
one can make to the world. But whatever others do,
love the Lord, all ye his saints ! You, I know, cannot re-
sist the motion. Surely your love even now is all on fire.
Love the Lord, 0 my soul ! Amen.

.

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 493

SERMON XIX.

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

JOHN v. 28, 29. — The hour is coming, in the which all
that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come
forth ; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of
life ; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection
of damnation.

EVER since sin entered into the world, and death by sin,
this earth has been a vast grave-yard, or burying-place, for
her children. In every age, and in every country, that
sentence has been executing, Dust thou art, and unto dust
thou shall return. The earth has been arched with graves,
the last lodgings of mortals, and the bottom of the ocean
paved with the bones of men.* Human nature was at first
confined to one pair, but how soon and how wide did it
spread ! How inconceivably numerous are the sons of
Adam ! How many different nations on our globe contain
many millions of men even in one generation ! And how
many generations have succeeded one another in the long
run of near six thousand years ! Let imagination call up
this vast army : children that just light upon our globe, and
then wing their flight into an unknown world ; the gray-
headed that have had a long journey through life ; the bloom-
ing youth and the middle-aged, let them pass in review be-
fore us from all countries and from all ages ; and how vast

* No spot on earth but has supplied a grave ;
And human sculls the spacious ocean pave. — YOUNQ.

494 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

and astonishing the multitude ! If the posterity of one
man (Abraham) by one son was, according to the divine
promise, as the stars of heaven, or as the sand by the sea-
shore, innumerable, what numbers can compute the multi-
tudes that have sprung from all the patriarchs, the sons
of Adam and Noah? But what is become of them all?
Alas ! they are turned into earth, their original element ;
they are all imprisoned in the grave, except the present gen-
eration, and we are dropping one after another in quick
succession into thai place appointed for all living. There
has not been perhaps a moment of time for five thousand
years, but what some one or other has sunk into the man-
sions of the dead ; and in some fatal hours, by the sword
of war or the devouring jaws of earthquakes, thousands
have been cut off and swept away at once, and left in
one huge promiscuous carnage. The greatest number of
mankind beyond comparison are sleeping under ground.
There lies beauty mouldering into dust, rotting into stench
and loathsomeness, and feeding the vilest worms. There
lies the head that once wore a crown, as low and contemp-
tible as the meanest beggar. There lie the mighty giants,
the heroes and conquerors, the Samsons, the Ajaxes, the Al-
exanders, and the Caesars of the world ! there they lie stupid,
senseless, and inactive, and unable to drive off the worms
that riot on their marrow, and make their houses in those
sockets where the eyes sparkled with living lustre. There
lie the wise and the learned, as rotten, as helpless as the
fool. There lie some that we once conversed with, some
that were our friends, our companions ; and there lie our
fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters.

And shall they lie there always? Shall this body, this
curious workmanship of heaven, so wonderfully and fear-
fully made, always lie in ruins, and never be repaired?
Shall the wide-extended valleys of dry bones never more

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 495

live? This we know, that it is not a thing impossible
with God to raise the dead. He that could first form our
bodies out of nothing, is certainly able to form them anew,
and repair the wastes of time and death. But what is his
declared will in this case 1 On this the matter turns ; and
this is fully revealed in my text. " The hour is coming,
when all that are in the graves," all that are dead, without
exception, " shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and
shall come forth."

And for what end shall they come forth ? Oh ! for
very different purposes; "some to the resurrection of
life ; and some to the resurrection of damnation."

And what is the ground of this vast distinction? Or
what is the difference in character between those that shall
receive so different a doom ? It is this, " They that have
done good shall rise to life, and they that have done evil
to damnation." It is this, and this only, that will then be
the rule of distinction.

I would avoid all art in my method of handling this sub-
ject, and intend only to illustrate the several parts of the
text. " All that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and
shall come forth ; they that have done well, to the resur-
rection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the resur-
rection of damnation."

I. They that are in the graves shall hear his voice.
The voice of the Son of God here probably means the
sound of the archangel's trumpet, which is called his voice,
because sounded by his orders and attended with his all-
quickening power. This all-wakening call to the tenents
of the grave we frequently find foretold in Scripture. I
shall refer you to two plain passages. Behold, says St.
Paul, / show you a mystery, an important and astonishing
secret, we shall not all sleep ; that is mankind will not all
be sleeping in death when that day comes ; there will be a

496 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

generation then alive upon the earth; and though they
cannot have a proper resurrection, yet they shall pass
through a change equivalent to it. " We shall all be
changed," says he, " in a moment, in the twinkling of an
eye, at the last trump : for the trumpet shall sound," it
shall give the alarm ; and no sooner is the awful clangor
heard than all the living shall be transformed into immor-
tals ; and the dead shall be raised incorruptible ; and we,
who are then alive, shall be changed, 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52;
this is all the difference, they shall be raised, and we shall
be changed. This awful prelude of the trumpet is also
mentioned in 1 Thess. iv. 15, 16. " We which are alive
and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent
them which are asleep;" that is, we shall not be before-
hand with them in meeting our descending Lord, " for the
Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with
the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God ;"
that is, with a godlike trump, such as it becomes his ma-
jesty to sound, and the dead in Christ shall rise first :
that is, before the living shall be caught up in the clouds
to meet the Lord in the air : and when they are risen, and
the living transformed, they shall ascend together to the
place of judgment.

My brethren, realize the majesty and terror of this uni-
versal alarm. When the dead are sleeping in the silent
grave; when the living are thoughtless and unapprehen-
sive of the grand event, or intent on other pursuits ; some
of them asleep in the dead of night; some of them dis-
solved in sensual pleasures, eating and drinking, marrying
and giving in marriage ; some of them planning or execut-
ing schemes for riches or honours ; some in the very act
of sin ; the generality stupid and careless about the con-
cerns of eternity, and the dreadful day just at hand ; and a
few here and there conversing with their God, and " look-

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 497

ing for the glorious appearance of their Lord and Sa-
viour;" when the course of nature runs on uniform and
regular as usual, and infidel scoffers are taking umbrage
from thence to ask, " Where is the promise of his coming?
for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they
were from the beginning of the creation." 2 Pet. iii. 4.
In short, when there are no more visible appearances of
this approaching day, than of the destruction of Sodom on
that fine clear morning in which Lot fled away ; or of the
deluge, when Noah entered into the ark ; then in that hour
of unapprehensive security, then suddenly shall the hea-
vens open over the astonished world ; then shall the all-
alarming clangor break over their heads like a clap of
thunder in a clear sky. Immediately the living turn their
gazing eyes upon the amazing phenomenon; a few hear
the long-expected sound with rapture, and lift up their
heads with joy, assured that the day of their redemption
is come, while the thoughtless world are struck with the
wildest horror and consternation. In the same instant the
sound reaches all the mansions of the dead, and in a mo-
ment, in the twinkling of an eye, they are raised, and the
living are changed. This call will be as animating to all
the sons of men, as that call to a single person, Lazarus,
come forth. Oh what a surprise will this be to a thought-
less world ! Should this alarm burst over our heads this
moment, into what a terror would it strike many in this
assembly ! Such will be the terror, such the consternation,
when it actually comes to pass. Sinners will be the same
timorous, self-condemned creatures then, as they are now.
And then they will not be able to stop their ears, who are
deaf to all the gentler calls of the gospel now. Then the
trump of God will constrain them to hear arid fear, to
whom the ministers of Christ now preach in vain. Then
they must all hear, for

VOL. I.— 63

498 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

II. My text tells you, all that are in the graves, all with-
out exception, shall hear his voice. Now the voice of
mercy calls, reason pleads, conscience warns, but multitudes
will not hear. But this is a voice which shall, which must
reach every one of the millions of mankind, and not one
of them will be able to stop his ears. Infants and giants,
kings and subjects, all ranks, all ages of mankind shall hear
the call. The living shall start and be changed, and the
dead rise at the sound. The dust that was once alive and
formed a human body, whether it flies in the air, floats in
ocean, or vegetates on earth, shall hear the new-creating
fiat. Wherever the fragments of the human frame are
scattered, this all-penetrating call shall reach and speak
them into life. We may consider this voice as a summons
not only to dead bodies to rise, but to the souls that once
animated them, to appear and be re-united to them, whether
in heaven or hell. To the grave, the call will be, Arise,
ye dead, and come to judgment ; to heaven, ye spirits of
just men made perfect ; " descend to the world whence
you originally came; and assume your new-formed bodies :"
to hell, " Come forth and appear, ye damned ghosts, ye
prisoners of darkness, and be again united to the bodies in
which you once sinned, that in them ye may now suffer."
Thus will this summons spread through every corner of
the universe; and heaven, earth, and hell, and all their in-
habitants, shall hear and obey. Devils, as well as sinners
of our race, will tremble at the sound ; for now they know
they can plead no more as they once did, Torment us not
before the time ; for the time is come, and they must min-
gle with the prisoners at the bar. And now when all that
are in the graves hear this all-quickening voice,

III. They shall come forth. Now methinks I see, I
hear the earth heaving, charnel-houses rattling, tombs
bursting, graves opening. Now the nations under ground

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 499

begin to stir. There is a noise and a shaking among the
dry bones. The dust is all alive, and in motion, and the
globe breaks and trembles, as with an earthquake, while
this vast army is working its way through and bursting
into life. The ruins of human bodies are scattered far
and wide, and have passed through many and surprising
transformations. A limb in one country, and another in
another; here the head and there the trunk, and the
ocean rolling between.* Multitudes have sunk in a
watery grave, been swallowed up by the monsters of the
deep, and transformed into a part of their flesh. Multi-
tudes have been eaten by beasts and birds of prey, and
incorporated with them; and some have been devoured by
their fellow-men in the rage of a desperate hunger, or of
unnatural cannibal appetite, and digested into a part of
them. Multitudes have mouldered into dust, and this
dust has been blown about by winds, and washed away
with water, or it has petrified into stone, or been burnt
into brick to form dwellings for their posterity; or it has
grown up in grain, trees, plants, and other vegetables,
which are the support of man and beast, and are trans-
formed into their flesh and blood. But through all these
various transformations and changes, not a particle that
was essential to one human body has been lost, or incor-
porated with another human body, so as to become an
essential part of it. And as to those particles that were
not essential, they are not necessary to the identity of the
body or of the person; and therefore we need not think
they will be raised again. The omniscient God knows
how to collect, distinguish, and compound all those scat-
tered and mingled seeds of our mortal bodies. And now

* This was the fate of Pompey, who was slain on the African shore. His
body was left there, and his head carried over the Mediterranean to Julius
Caesar.

500 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

at the sound of the trumpet, they shall all be collected,
wherever they were scattered; all properly sorted and
united, however they were confused; atom to its fellow-
atom, bone to its fellow-bone. Now methinks you may
see the air darkened with fragments of bodies flying
from country to country, to meet and join their proper
parts :

" Scatter'd limbs, and all
The various bones obsequious to the call,
Self-mov'd, advance ; the neck perhaps to meet
The distant head, the distant legs, the feet.
Dreadful to view, see through the dusky sky
Fragments of bodies in confusion fly,
To distant regions journeying, there to claim
Deserted members, and complete the frame —
The sever'd head and trunk shall join once more,
Tho' realms now rise between, and oceans roar,
The trumpet's sound each vagrant mote shall hear,
Or fixed in earth, or if afloat in air,

% Obey the signal, wafted in the wind,
And not one sleeping atom lag behind." — *
All hear : and now, in fairer prospect shown,
Limb clings to limb, and bone rejoins its bone. — f

Then, my brethren, your dust and mine shall be rean-
imated and organized ; " and though after our skin worms
destroy these bodies, yet in our flesh shall we see God."
Job xix. 16.

* Young's Last Day, Book II.

f These two last lines are taken from a poem, which is a lively imitation
of Dr. Young, entitled, The Day of Judgment, ascribed to Mr. Ogilvie, a
promising young genius of Aberdeen, in Scotland, not above nineteen years
of age, as I was informed, when he composed this poem. The lines pre-
ceding these quoted are as follows :

O'er boiling waves the severed members swim,

Each breeze is loaded with a broken limb :

The living atoms, with peculiar care,

Drawn from their cells, come flying thro' the air.

"Where'er they lurk'd, thro' ages uiidecay'd,

Deep in the rock, or cloth'd some smiling mead ;

Or in the lily's snowy bosom grew,

Or ting'd the sapphire with its lovely blue ;

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 501

And what a vast improvement will the frail nature of
man then receive? Our bodies will then be substantially
the same; but how different in qualities, in strength, in
agility, in capacities for pleasure or pain, in beauty or
deformity, in glory or terror, according to the moral
character of the person to whom they belong ? Matter,
we know, is capable of prodigious alterations and refine-
ments; and there it will appear in the highest perfection.
The bodies of the saints will be formed glorious, incor-
ruptible, without the seeds of sickness and death. The
glorified body of Christ, which is undoubtedly carried to
the highest perfection that matter is capable of, will be the
pattern after which they shall be formed. He will change
our vile body, says St. Paul, that it may be fashioned like
unto his glorious body. Phil. iii. 21. "Flesh and blood,"
in their present state of grossness and frailty, " cannot
inherit the kingdom of God: neither doth corruption in-
herit incorruption. For this corruptible must put on in-
corruption, and this mortal must put on immortality."
1 Cor. xv. 50, 53. And how vast the change, how high
the improvement from this present state ! " It is sown in
corruption, it is raised in incorruption ; it is sown in dis-

Or in some purling stream refresh'd the plains ;
Or form'd the mountain's adamantine veins ;
Or gaily sporting in the breathing spring,
Perfum'd the whisp'ring zephyr's balmy wing —
All hear, &c.

The thought seems to be borrowed from Mr. Addison's fine Latin poem
on the resurrection, in which are the following beautiful lines :

Jam pulvis varias terrse dispersa per oras,
Sive inter venas teneri concreta metalli,
Sensim diriguit, seu sese immiscuit herbis,
Explicita est ; molem rursus coalescit in unam
Divisum Funus, sparsos prior alligat artus
Junctura, aptanturque ; iterum coeuntia membra.

502 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

honour, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness,
it is raised in power," verses 42, 43, &c. Then wiU
the body be able to bear up under the exceeding great
and eternal weight of glory; it will no longer be a clog or
an incumbrance to the soul, but a proper instrument and
assistant in all the exalted services and enjoyments of the
heavenly state.

The bodies of the wicked will also be improved, but
their improvements will all be terrible and vindictive.
Their capacities will be thoroughly enlarged, but then it
will be that they may be made capable of greater misery :
they will be strengthened, but it will be that they may
bear the heavier load of torment. Their sensations will
be more quick and strong, but it will be that they may
feel the more exquisite pain. They will be raised im-
mortal that they may not be consumed by everlasting fire,
or escape punishment by dissolution or annihilation. In
short, their augmented strength, their enlarged capacities,
and their immortality, will be their eternal curse; and
they would willingly exchange them for the fleeting dura-
tion of a fading flower, or the faint sensations of an infant.
The only power they would rejoice in is that of self-
annihilation.

And now when the bodies are completely formed and
fit to be inhabited, the souls that once animated them,
being collected from heaven and hell, re-enter and take
possession of their old mansions. They are united in
bonds which shall never more be dissolved: and the
mouldering tabernacles are now become everlasting habita-
tions.

And with what joy will the spirits of the righteous
welcome their old companions from their long sleep in
the dust, and congratulate their glorious resurrection!
How will they rejoice to re-enter their old habitations,

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 503

now so completely repaired and highly improved! to find
those bodies which were on,ce their incumbrance, once
frail and mortal, in which they were imprisoned, and
languished, once their temptation, tainted with the seeds
of sin, now their assistants and co-partners in the business
of heaven, now vigorous, incorruptible, and immortal,
now free from all corrupt mixtures, and shining in all the
beauties of perfect holiness ! In these bodies they once
served their God with honest though feeble efforts, con-
flicted with sin and temptation, and passed through all
the united trials and hardships of mortality and the Chris-
tian life. But now they are united to them for more
exalted and blissful purposes. The lungs that were wont
to heave with penitential sighs and groans, shall now
shout forth their joys and the praises of their God and
Saviour. The heart that was once broken with sorrows
shall now be bound up for ever, and overflow with im-
mortal pleasures. Those very eyes that were wont to
run down with tears, and to behold many a tragical sight,
shall now behold the King in his beauty, shall behold the
Saviour whom, though unseen, they loved, and all the
glories of heaven ; and God shall wipe away all their tears.
All the senses, which were once avenues of pain, shall
now be inlets of the most exalted pleasure. In short,
every organ, every member shall be employed in the most
noble services and enjoyments, instead of the sordid and
laborious drudgery, and the painful sufferings of the pre-
sent state. Blessed change indeed! Rejoice, ye children
of God, in the prospect of it.

But how shall I glance a thought upon the dreadful
case of the wicked in that tremendous day ! While their
bodies burst from their graves, the miserable spectacles of
horror and deformity, see the millions of gloomy ghosts
that once animated them, rise like pillars of smoke from

504 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

the bottomless pit ! and with what reluctance and anguish
do they re-enter their old habitations ! Oh what a dreadful
meeting ! What shocking salutations ! " And must I be
chained to thee again, (may the guilty soul say,) Oh thou
accursed, polluted body, thou system of deformity and ter-
ror ! In thee I once sinned, by thee I was once ensnared,
debased, and ruined : to gratify thy vile lusts and appetites
I neglected my own immortal interests, degraded my na-
tive dignity, and made myself miserable for ever. And
hast thou now met me to torment me for ever? Oh that
thou hadst still slept in the dust, and never been repaired
again ! Let me rather be condemned to animate a toad
or serpent than that odious body once defiled with sin, and
the instrument of my guilty pleasures, now made strong
and immortal to torment me with strong and immortal
pains. Once indeed I received sensations of pleasure from
thee, but now thou art transformed into an engine of tor-
ture. No more shall I through thine eyes behold the
cheerful light of the day, and the beautiful prospects of
nature, but the thick glooms of hell, grim and ghastly
ghosts, heaven at an impassable distance, and all the hor-
rid sights of wo in the infernal regions. No more shall
thine ears charm me with the harmony of sounds, but ter-
rify and distress me with the echo of eternal groans, and
the thunder of almighty vengeance ! No more shall the
gratification of thine appetites afford me pleasure, but thine
appetites, for ever hungry, for ever unsatisfied, shall eter-
nally torment me with their eager importunate cravings.
No more shall thy tongue be employed in mirth, and jest,
and song, but complain, and groan, and blaspheme, and
roar for ever. Thy feet, that once walked in the flowery
enchanted paths of sin, must now walk on the dismal burn-
ing soil of hell. Oh my wretched companion ! I parted
with thee with pain and reluctance in the struggles of

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 505

death, but now I meet thee with greater terror and agony.
Return to thy bed in the dust; there to sleep and rot, and
let me never see thy shocking visage more." In vain the
petition ! the reluctant soul must enter its prison, from
whence it shall never more be dismissed. And if we might

o

indulge imagination so far, we might suppose the body be-
gins to recriminate in such language as this : " Come,
guilty soul, enter thy old mansion ; if it be horrible and
shocking, it is owing to thyself. Was not the animal frame,
the brutal nature, subjected to thy government, who art a
rational principle ? instead of being debased by me, it be-
came thee to have not only retained the dignity of thy
nature, but to have exalted mine, by nobler employments
and gratifications worthy an earthly body united to an im-
mortal spirit.

Thou mightest have restrained my members from
being the instruments of sin, and made them the instru-
ments of righteousness. My knees would have bowed
at the throne of grace, but thou didst not affect that pos-
ture. Mine eyes would have read, and mine ears heard
the word of life ; but thou wouldest not set them to that
employ, or wouldst not attend to it. And now it is
but just the body thou didst prostitute to sin should be
the instrument of thy punishment. Indeed, fain would
I relapse into senseless earth as I was, and continue in that
insensibility for ever : — but didst thou not hear the all-rous-
ing trumpet just now? did it not even shake the foundations
of thy infernal prison ? It was that call that awakened me,
and summoned me to meet thee, and I could not resist it.
Therefore, come, miserable soul, take possession of this
frame, and let us prepare for everlasting burning. Oh that
it were now possible to die ! Oh that we could be again
separated, and never be united more ! Vain wish ; the
weight of mountains, the pangs of hell, the flames of un-

VOL. I.— 64

506 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

quenchable fire, can never dissolve these chains which now
bind us together?"*

O sirs! what a shocking interview is this! Oh the
glorious, dreadful morning of the resurrection ! What
scenes of unknown joy and terror will then open ! Me-
thinks we must always have it in prospect; it must even
now engage our thoughts, and fill us with trembling soli-
citude, and make it the great object of our labour and pur-
suit to share in the resurrection of the just.

But for what ends do these sleeping multitudes rise?
For what purposes do they come forth ? My text will tell
you.

IV. They shall come forth, " some to the resurrection
of life, and some to the resurrection of damnation." They
are summoned from their graves to stand at the bar, and
brought out of prison by angelic guards to pass their last
trial. And as in this impartial trial they will be found to
be persons of very different characters, the righteous Judge
of the earth will accordingly pronounce their different
doom.

See a glorious multitude, which none can number, openly
acquitted, pronounced blessed, and welcomed "into the

* The Rev. Mr. John Reynolds, in his poem entitled Death's Vision, intro-
duces the soul speaking against the body, and afterwards checking its cen-
sures, and turning them upon itself, in a vein of thought not unlike that of
Mr. Davies.

Go, tempter, go, as thou hast been

A quick extinguisher of heav'nly fires !

A source of black enormity and sin,
Thou cramp of sacred motions and desires !

How brave and bless'd am I.

Unfetter'd from the company,

Thou enemy of my joys and me ?

But pardon that I thus

Unconsciously accuse !

How much more cruel have I been to thee !

" 'Twas cruel that I oblig'd thee to obey,

The wilful dictates of my guilty sway."

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 507

kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the
world." Now they enter upon a state which deserves the
name of life. They are all vital, all active, all glo-
rious, all happy. They " shine brighter than the stars in
the firmament ; like the sun for ever and ever." All their
faculties overflow with happiness. They mingle with the
glorious company of angels; they behold that Saviour
whom unseen they loved ; they dwell in eternal intimacy
with the Father of their spirits; they are employed with
ever-new and growing delight in the exalted services of
the heavenly sanctuary. They shall never more fear,
nor feel the least touch of sorrow, pain, or any kind of
misery, but shall be as happy as their natures can admit
through an immortal duration. What a glorious new crea-
tion is here ! what illustrious creatures formed of the dust !
And shall any of us join in this happy company] Oh
shall any of us, feeble, dying, sinful creatures, share in
their glory and happiness? This is a most interesting in-
quiry, and I would have you think of it with trembling
anxiety ; and I shall presently answer it in its place.

The prospect would be delightful, if our charity could
hope that this will be the happy end of all the sons of men.
But, alas ! multitudes, and we have reason to fear the far
greater number, shall come forth, not to the resurrection
of life, but to the resurrection of damnation ! what terror is
in the sound ! If audacious sinners in our world make
light of it, and pray for it on every trifling occasion, their
infernal brethren, that feel its tremendous import, are not
so hardy, but tremble and groan, and can trifle with it no
more.

Let us realize the miserable doom of this class of man-
kind. See them bursting into life from their subterranean
dungeons, hideous shapes of deformity and terror, expres-
sive of the vindictive design for which their bodies are re-

508 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

paired, and of the boisterous and malignant passions that
ravage their souls. Horror throbs through every vein,
and glares wild and furious in their eyes. Every joint
trembles, and every countenance looks downcast and
gloomy. Now they see that tremendous day of which
they were warned in vain, and shudder at those terrors of
which they once made light. They immediately know
the grand business of the day, and the dreadful purpose
for which they are roused from their slumbers in the
grave; to be tried, to be convicted, to be condemned, and
to be dragged away to execution. Conscience has been
anticipating the trial in a separate state ; and no sooner is
the soul united to the body, than immediately conscience
ascends its throne in the breast, and begins to accuse, to
convict, to pass sentence, to upbraid, and to torment. The
sinner is condemned, condemned at his own tribunal, be-
fore he arrives at the bar of his Judge. The first act of
consciousness in his new state of existence is a conviction
that he is condemned, an irrevocably condemned creature.
He enters the court, knowing beforehand how it will go
with him. When he finds himself ordered to the left hand
of his Judge, when he hears the dreadful sentence thun-
dered out against him, Depart from me, accursed, it was
but what he expected. Now he can flatter himself with
vain hopes, and shut his eyes against the light of convic-
tion, but then he will not be able to hope better ; then he
must know the worst of his case. The formality of the
judicial trial is necessary for the conviction of the world,
but not for his; his own conscience has already deter-
mined his condition. However, to convince others of
the justice of his doom, he is dragged and guarded from
his grave to the judgment-seat by fierce, unrelenting devils,
now his tempters, but then his tormentors. With what
horror does he view the burning throne and the frowning

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 609

face of his Judge, that Jesus whom he once disregarded,
in spite of all his dying love and the salvation he offered !
How does he wish for a covering of rocks and mountains
to conceal him from his angry eye ! but all in vain. Ap-
pear he must. He is ordered to the left among the trem-
bling criminals ; and now the trial comes on. All his evil
deeds, and all his omissions of duty, are now produced
against him. All the mercies he abused, all the chastise-
ments he despised, all the means of grace he neglected or
misimproved, every sinful, and even every idle word, nay,
his most secret thoughts and dispositions, are all exposed,
and brought into judgment against him. And when the
Judge puts it to him, " Is it not so, sinner? Are not these
charges true?" conscience obliges him to confess and cry
out, Guilty ! guilty ! And now the trembling criminal be-
ing plainly convicted and left without all plea and all ex-
cuse, the supreme Judge, in stern majesty and inexorable
justice, thunders out the dreadful sentence, "Depart from
me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil
and his angels." Matt. xxv. 41. Oh tremendous doom!
every word is big with terror, and shoots a thunderbolt
through the heart. " Depart : away from my presence ;
I cannot bear so loathsome a sight. I once invited thee
to come to me, that thou mightest have life, but thou
wouldst not regard the invitation; and now thou shalt
never hear that inviting voice more. Depart from me ;
from me, the only Fountain of happiness, the only proper
Good for an immortal mind." " But, Lord," (we may sup-
pose the criminal to say,) " if I must depart, bless me be-
fore I go." "No," says the angry Judge, "depart ac-
cursed ; depart with my eternal and heavy curse upon thee ;
the curse of that power that made thee ; a curse dreadfully
efficacious, that blasts whatever it falls upon like flashes of
consuming, irresistible lightning." " But if I must go away

510 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

under thy curse, (the criminal may be supposed to say,) let
that be all my punishment ; let me depart to some agree-
able, or at least tolerable recess, where I may meet with
something to mitigate the curse." " No, depart into fire ;
there burn in all the excruciating tortures of that outra-
geous element." . " But, Lord, if I must make my bed in
fire, oh let it be transient blaze, that will soon burn itself
out, and put an end to my torment." "No, depart into
everlasting fire; there burn without consuming, and be
tormented without end." " But, Lord, grant me (cries the
poor wretch) at least the mitigation of friendly, entertain-
ing, and sympathizing company; or, if this cannot be
granted, grant me this small, this almost no request, to be
doomed to some solitary corner in hell, where I shall be
punished only by my own conscience and thine immediate
hand ; but oh deliver me from these malicious, tormenting
devils; banish me into some apartment in the infernal pit
far from their society." " No, depart into everlasting fire
prepared for the devil and his angels : thou must make one
of their wretched crew for ever : thou didst join with them
in sinning, and now must share in their punishment : thou
didst submit to them as thy tempters, and now thou must
submit to them as thy tormentors."

Sentence being pronounced, it is immediately executed.
These shall go away into everlasting punishment. Matt.
xxv. 46. Devils drag them away to the pit, and push
them down headlong. There they are confined in chains
of darkness, and in a lake burning with fire and brimstone,
for ever, for ever ! In that dreadful word lies the empha-
sis of torment ; it is a hell in hell. If they might be but
released from pain, though it were by annihilation after
they have wept away ten thousand millions of ages in ex-
tremity of pain, it would be some mitigation, some encour-
agement ; but, alas ! when as many millions of ages are

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 511

passed as the stars of heaven, or the sands on the sea-
shore, or the atoms of dust in, this huge globe of earth,
their punishment is as far from an end as when the sen-
tence was pronounced upon them. For ever! there
is no exhausting of that word; and when it is affixed
to the highest degree of misery, the terror of the sound
is utterly insupportable. See, sirs, what depends upon
time, that span of time we may enjoy in this fleeting
life. Eternity! awful, all-important eternity! depends
upon it.

All this while conscience tears the sinner's heart with
the most tormenting reflections. " Oh what a fair oppor-
tunity I once had for salvation, had I improved it! I was
warned of the consequences of a life of sin and careless-
ness ; I was told of the necessity of faith, repentance,
and universal holiness of heart and life ; I enjoyed a suf-
ficient space for repentance, and all the necessary means
of salvation, but, fool that I was, I neglected all, I abused
all ; I refused to part with my sins ; I refused to engage
seriously in religion, and to seek God in earnest; and now
I am lost for ever, without hope. Oh ! for one of those
months, one of those weeks, or even so much as one of
those days or hours I once trifled away; with what earn-
estness, with what solicitude would I improve it ! But all
my opportunities are past, beyond recovery, and not a
moment shall be given me for this purpose any more.
Oh what a fool was I to sell my soul for such trifles ! to
set so light by heaven, and fall into hell through mere

•/ O

neglect and carelessness ! Ye impenitent, unthinking sin-
ners, though you may now be able to silence or drown
the clamours of your consciences, yet the time, or rather
the dread eternity is coming, when they will speak in
spite of you ; when they will speak home, and be felt by
the most hardened and remorseless heart. Therefore now

512 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

regard their warnings while they may be the means of
your recovery.

You and I, my brethren, are concerned in the solemn
transaction of the day I have been describing. You and
I shall either be changed in a moment, in the twinkling
of an eye, or while mouldering " in the grave, we shall
hear the voice of the Son of God, and come forth, either
to the resurrection of life, or to the resurrection of dam-
nation." And which, my brethren, shall be our doom?
Can we foreknow it at this distance of time ? I proposed
it to your inquiry already, whether you have any good
reason to hope you shall be of that happy number who
shall rise, to life 1 and now I propose it again, with this
counterpart, Have you any evidence to hope you shall
not be of that wretched, numerous multitude who shall rise
to damnation ? If there be any inquiry within the com-
pass of human knowledge that demands your solicitous
thoughts, certainly it is this. Methinks you cannot enjoy
one moment's ease or security while this is undetermined.
And is it an answerable inquiry ? Can we now know what
are the present distinguishing characters of those who shall
then receive so different a doom 1 Yes, my text determ-
ines the point; for,

V. " They that have done good shall come forth to the
resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the
resurrection of damnation." These are the grounds of
the distinction that shall then be made in the final states
of men, doing good and doing evil. And certainly this
distinction is perceivable now; to do good and to do evil
are not so much alike as that it should be impossible to
distinguish between them. Let us then see what is implied
in these characters, and to whom of us they respectively
belong.

1. What is it to do good ? This implies, (1.) An honest

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 513

endeavour to keep all God's commandments; I say, all
his commandments, with regard to God, our neighbour,
and ourselves, whether easy or difficult, whether fashion-
able or not, whether agreeable to our natural constitution
or not, whether enjoining the performauce of duty or for-
bidding the commission of sin, whether regarding the heart
or the outward practice. I say, an uniform, impartial re-
gard to all God's commandments, of whatever kind, in all
circumstances, and at all times, is implied in doing good ;
for if we do any thing because God commands it, we will
endeavour to do everything that he commands, because
where the reason of our conduct is the same, our conduct
itself will be the same. I do not mean that good men, in
the present state, perfectly keep the commandments of
God in every thing, or indeed in any thing ; but I mean
that universal obedience is their honest endeavour. Their
character is in some measure uniform and all of a piece ;
that is, they do not place all their religion in obedience to
some commands which may be agreeable to them, as
though that would make atonement for their neglect of
others ; but, like David, they are for having a respect, and
indeed have a respect to all God's commandments : Psalm
cxix. 6. My brethren, try yourselves by this test.

(2.) To do good in an acceptable manner pre-supposes
a change of nature and a new principle. Our nature is
so corrupted that nothing really and formally good can be
performed by us till it be renewed. To confirm this I
shall only refer you to Eph. ii. 10, and Ezek. xxxvi. 26,
27, where being created in Christ Jesus to good works,
and receiving a new heart of flesh, are mentioned as pre-
requisites to our walking in God's statutes. As for the
principle of obedience, it is the love of God : 1 John v. 3,
that is, we must obey God, because we love him ; we must
do good, because we delight to do good ; otherwise it is

VOL. I.— 65

514 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

all hypocrisy, constraint, or selfishness, and cannot be
acceptable to God. Here, again, my brethren, look into
your hearts, and examine what is the principle of your
obedience, and whether ever you hare been made new
creatures.

(3.) I must add, especially as we live under the gospel,
that your dependence for life must not be upon the good
you do, but entirely upon the righteousness of Jesus
Christ. After you have done all, you must acknowledge
you are but unprofitable servants ; and renounce all your
works in point of merit, while you abound in them hi
point of practice; Phil. iii. 7, 8. This is an essential
characteristic of evangelical obedience, and without it you
cannot expect to have a resurrection to eternal life and
blessedness.

I might enlarge upon this head, but time will not permit;
and I hope these three characters may suffice to show you
what is implied in doing good. Let us now proceed to
the opposite character.

2. What is it to do evil 1 This implies such things as
these ; the habitual neglect of well-doing, or the perform-
ance of duties in a languid, formal manner, or without a
right principle, and the wilful indulgence of any one sin ;
the secret love of sin, though not suffered to break forth
into the outward practice. Here it is evident at first sight
that profane sinners, drunkards, swearers, defrauders,
avowed neglecters of religion, &c., have this dismal brand
upon them, that they are such as do evil. Nay, all such
who are in their natural state, without regeneration, what-
ever their outside be, must be ranked in this class ; " for
that which is born of the flesh is flesh," John iii. 6; and
they that are in the flesh cannot please God, nor be rightly
subject to his law. Rom. viii. 7, 8.

And now who is for life, and who for dammation among

THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 515

you ? These characters are intended to make the dis-
tinction among you, and I pray you apply them for that
purpose.

As for such of you, who, amidst all your lamented in-
firmities, are endeavouring honestly to do good, and grieved
at heart that you can do no more, you also must die ; you
must die, and feed the worms in the dust. But you shall
rise gloriously improved, rise to an immortal life, and in
all the terrors and consternation of that last day, you will
be secure, serene, and undisturbed. The almighty Judge
will be your friend, and that is enough. Let this thought
disarm the king of terrors, and give you courage to look
down into the grave, and forward to the great rising-day.
Oh what a happy immortality opens its glorions prospects
beyond the ken of sight before you ! and after a few strug-
gles more in this state of warfare, and resting awhile in the
bed of death, at the regions of eternal blessedness you will
arrive, and take up your residence there for ever.

But are there not some here who are conscious that
these favourable characters do not belong to them ? that
know that well-doing- is not the business of their life, but
that they are workers of iniquity ? I tell you plainly, and
with all the authority the word of God can give, that if
you continue such, you shall rise to damnation. That un-
doubtedly will be your doom, unless you are greatly
changed and reformed in heart and life. And will this be
no excitement to vigorous endeavours 1 Are you proof
against the energy of such a consideration ? Ye careless
sinners, awake out of your security, and prepare for death
and judgment ! this fleeting life is all the time you have
for preparation, and can you trifle it away ? Your all,
your eternal all is set upon the single cast of life, and you
must stand the hazard of the die. You can make but one
experiment, and if that fail, through your sloth or misman-

516 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION.

agement, you are irrecoverably undone for ever. There-
fore, by the dread authority of the great God, by the ter-
rors of death, and the great rising-day, by the joys of
heaven, and the torments of hell, and by the value of your
immortal souls, I entreat, I charge, I adjure you to awake
out of your security, and improve the precious moments
of life. The world is dying all around you. And can
you rest easy in such a world, while unprepared for
eternity ? Awake to righteousness now, at the gentle call
of the gospel, before the last trumpet give you an alarm of
another kind.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 517

SERMON XX.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

ACTS XVH. 30, 31. — And the times of this ignorance God
winked at ; but now commandeth all men everywhere to
repent : because he hath appointed a day, in the which
he will judge the world in righteousness, by that man
whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assur-
ance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the
dead.

THE present state is the infancy of human nature ; and
all the events of time, even those that make such noise,
and determine the fate of kingdoms, are but the little
affairs of children. But if we look forward and trace
human nature to maturity, we meet with events vast, inter-
esting, and majestic; and such as nothing but divine
authority can render credible to us who are so apt to
judge of things by what we see. To one of those
scenes I would direct your attention this day ; I mean the
solemn, tremendous, and glorious scene of the universal
judgment.

You have sometimes seen a stately building in ruins ;
come now and view the ruins of a demolished world.
You have often seen a feeble mortal struggling in the
agonies of death, and his shattered frame dissolved ; come
now and view universal nature severely labouring and ago-
nizing in her last convulsions and her well-compacted

518 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

system dissolved. You have heard of earthquakes here
and there that have laid Lisbon, Palermo, and a few other
cities in ruins ; come now and feel the tremors and con-
vulsions of the whole globe, that blend cities and countries,
oceans and continents, mountains, plains, and valleys, in one
promiscuous heap. You have a thousand times beheld
the moon walking in brightness, and the sun shining in his
strength ; now look and see the sun turned into darkness,
and the moon into blood.

It is our lot to live in an age of confusion, blood, and
slaughter ; an age in which our attention is engaged by
the clash of arms, the clangor of trumpets, the roar of
artillery, and the dubious fate of kingdoms ; but draw off
your thoughts from these objects for an hour, and fix them
on objects more solemn and interesting : come view

" A. scene that yields

A louder trumpet, and more dreadful fields ;
The world alarmed, both earth and heaven o'erthrown,
And gasping nature's last tremendous groan ;
Death's ancient sceptre broke, the teeming tomb,
, The Righteous Judge, and man's eternal doom."

Such a scene there certainly is before us ; for St. Paul
tells us that " God hath given assurance to all men that he
will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom
he hath ordained;" and that his resurrection, the resur-
rection of him who is God and man, is a demonstrative
proof of it.

My text is the conclusion of St. Paul's defence or ser-
mon before the famous court of Areopagus, in the learned
and philosophical city of Athens. In this august and
polite assembly he speaks with the boldness, and in the
evangelical strain, of an apostle of Christ. He first incul-
cates upon them the great truths of natural religion, and

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 519

labours faithfully, though in a very gentle and inoffensive
manner, to reform them from that stupid idolatry and
superstition into which even this learned philosophical citv
was sunk, though a Socrates, a Plato, and the most cele-
brated sages and moralists of pagan antiquity had lived
and taught in it. Afterwards, in the close of his discourse,
he introduces the glorious peculiarities of Christianity, par-
ticularly the great duty of repentance, from evangelical
motives, the resurrection of the dead, and the final judg-
ment. But no sooner has he entered upon this subject
than he is interrupted, and seems to have broken off ab-
ruptly ; for when he had just hinted at the then unpopular
doctrine of the resurrection of the dead, we are told, some
mocked, and others put it off to another hearing : We will
hear thee again of this matter.

In these dark times of ignorance which preceded the
publication of the gospel, God seemed to wink or connive
at the idolatry and various forms of wickedness that had
overspread the world ; that is, he seemed to overlook* or
to take no notice of them, so as either to punish them, or
to give the nations explicit calls to repentance. But now,
says St. Paul, the case is altered. Now the gospel is pub-
lished through the world, and therefore God will no longer
seem to connive at the wickedness and impenitence of man-
kind, but publishes his great mandate to a rebel world,
explicitly and loudly, commanding all men every where to
repent ; and he now gives them particular motives and en-
couragements to this duty.

One motive of the greatest weight, which was never so
clearly or extensively published before, is the doctrine of
the universal judgment. This the connection implies: "He
now commandeth all men to repent, because he hath ap-
pointed a day for judging all men." And surely the pros-

•

* inrcptibiv.

520 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

pect of a judgment must be a strong motive to sinners to re-
pent : — this, if anything, will rouse them from their thought-
less security, and bring them to repentance. Repentance
should, and one would think must, be as extensive as this
reason for it. This St. Paul intimates. "He now com-
mandeth all men to repent, because he hath given assurance
to all men" that he has " appointed a day to judge the
world." Wherever the gospel publishes the doctrine of
future judgment, there it requires all men to repent; and
wherever it requires repentance, there it enforces the com-
mand of this alarming doctrine.

God has given assurance to all men ; that is, to all that
hear the gospel, that he has appointed a day for this great
purpose, and that Jesus Christ, God-man, is to preside in
person in this majestic solemnity. He has given as-
surance of this; that is, sufficient ground of faith; and the
assurance consists in this, that he hath raised him from the
dead.

The resurrection of Christ gives assurance of this in
several respects. It is a specimen and a pledge of a
general resurrection, that grand preparative for the judg-
ment : it is an incontestible proof of his divine mission ; for
God will never work so unprecedented a miracle in favour
of an impostor : it is also an authentic attestation of all our
Lord's claims ; and he expressly claimed the authority of
supreme Judge as delegated to him by the Father; "the
Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment
to the Son." John v. 22.

There is a peculiar fitness and propriety in this con-
stitution. It is fit that a world placed under the adminis-
tration of a Mediator should have a mediatorial Judge.
It is fit this high office should be conferred upon him as
an honourary reward for his important services and ex-
treme abasement. Because he humbled himself, therefore

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 521

God hath highly exalted him. Phil. ii. 8, 9. It is fit that
creatures clothed with bodies, should be judged by a man
clothed in a body like themselves. Hence it is said that
" God hath given him authority to execute judgment, be-
cause he is the Son of man." John v. 27. This would
seem a strange reason, did we not understand it in this
light. Indeed, was Jesus Christ man only, he would be
infinitely unequal to the office of universal Judge ; but he
is God and man, Immanuel, God with us ; and is the fittest
person in the universe for the work. It is also fit that
Christ should be the supreme Judge, as it will be a great
encouragement to his people for their Mediator to execute
this office: and it may be added, that hereby the con-
demnation of the wicked will be rendered more con-
spicuously just; for, if a Mediator, a Saviour, the Friend
of sinners, condemns them, they must be worthy of con-
demnation indeed.

Let us now enter upon the majestic scene. But alas!
what images shall I use to represent it? Nothing that we
have seen, nothing that we have heard, nothing that has
ever happened on the stage of time, can furnish us with
proper illustrations. All is low and grovelling, all is faint
and obscure that ever the sun shone upon, when compared
with the grand phenomena of that day; and we are so
accustomed to low and little objects, that it is impossible
we should ever raise our thoughts to a suitable pitch of
elevation. Ere long we shall be amazed spectators of
these majestic wonders, and our eyes and our ears will be
our instructors. But now it is necessary we should have
snch ideas of them as may affect our hearts, and prepare
us for them. Let us therefore present to our view those
representations which divine revelation, our only guide in
this case, gives us of the person of the Judge, and the
manner of his appearance ; of the resurrection of the dead,
VOL. I.— 66

522 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

and the transformation of the living; of the universal con-
vention of all the sons of men before the supreme tribunal ;
of their separation to the right and left hand of the Judge,
according to their characters ; of the judicial process itself;
of the decisive sentence ; of its execution, and of the con-
flagration of the world.

As to the person of the Judge, the psalmist tells you,
God is Judge himself. Psalm 1. 6. Yet Christ tells us,
"the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all
judgment unto the Son; and hath given him authority to
execute judgment also, because he is the Son of man."
John v. 22, 27. It is therefore Christ Jesus, God-man,
as I observed, who shall sustain this high character; and
for the reasons already alleged, it is most fit it should be
devolved upon him. Being God and man, all the advan-
tages of divinity and humanity centre in him, and render
him more fit for this office than if he were God only, or
man only. This is the august Judge before whom we
must stand; and the prospect may inspire us with rever-
ence, joy, and terror.

As for the manner of his appearance, it will be such as
becomes the dignity of his person and office. He will
shine in all the uncreated glories of the Godhead, and in
all the gentler glories of a perfect man. His attendants
will add a dignity to the grand appearance, and the sym-
pathy of nature will increase the solemnity and terror of
the day. Let his own word describe him. " The Son
of man shall come in the glory of his Father, with his
angels." Matt. xvi. 27. " The Son of man shall come in
his glory, and all the holy angels with him; then shall he
sit upon the throne of his glory." Matt. xxv. 31: "The
Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty
angels, in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that know
not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 523

Christ." 2 Thess. i. 7, 8. And not only will the angels,
those illustrious ministers of the court of heaven, attend
upon that solemn occasion, but also all the saints who had
left the world from Adam to that day; for those that sleep
in Jesus, says St. Paul, will God bring with him. I Thess.
iv. 14. The grand imagery in Daniel's vision is applicable
to this day : and perhaps to this it primarily refers : " I
beheld till the thrones were cast down," or rather set up,*
" and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white
as snow, and the hair of his head like the pure wool: his
throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning
fire. A fiery stream issued and came forth from before
him: thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten
thousand times ten thousand stood before him." Dan. vii.
9, 10. Perhaps our Lord may exhibit himself to the
whole world upon this most grand occasion, in the same
glorious form in which he was seen by his favourite John,
" clothed with a garment down to the foot, and girt ^bout
the breasts with a golden girdle : his head and his hairs white
like wool, as white as snow; his eyes as a flame of fire:
his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace ;
his voice as the sound of many waters, and his countenance
as the sun shining in his strength." Rev. i. 13, &c.
Another image of inimitable majesty and terror the same
writer gives us, when he says, " I saw a great white throne,
and him that sat on it, from whose face the earth and the
heaven fled away, and there was found no place for them."
Astonishing ! what an image is this ! the stable earth and
heaven cannot bear the majesty and terror of his look;
they fly away affrighted, and seek a place to hide them-
selves, but no place is found to shelter them ; every region

* This sense is more agreeable to the connection, and the original word
will bear it ; which signifies to pitch down or place, as well as to throw down
or demolish. And the LXX translate it, the thrones were put up, or fixed.

524 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

through the immensity of space lies open before him.*
Rev. xx. 11.

This is the Judge before whom we must stand ; and this
is the manner of his appearance. But is this the babe of
Bethlehem that lay and wept in the manger? Is this the
supposed son of the carpenter, the despised Galilean 1 Is
this the man of sorrows? Is this he that was arrested,
was condemned, was buffeted, was spit upon, was crowned
with thorns, was executed as a slave and a criminal, upon
the cross ? Yes, it is he ; the very same Jesus of Nazareth.
But oh how changed ! how deservedly exalted ! Let
heaven and earth congratulate his advancement. Now let
his enemies appear and show their usual contempt and
malignity. Now, Pilate, condemn the King of the Jews
as an usurper. Now, ye Jews, raise the clamour, Crucify
him, crucify him !

" Now bow the knee in scorn, present the reed ;
I Now tell the scourg'd Impostor he must bleed." — YOUNG.

Now, ye Deists and Infidels, dispute his divinity and
the truth of his religion if you can. Now, ye hypocritical

* This is the picture drawn by the pencil of inspiration. We may now
contemplate the imagery of a fine human pen.

-From his great abode

Full on a whirlwind rides the dreadful God :
The tempest's rattling winds, the fiery car,
Ten thousand hosts his ministers of war,
The flaming Cherubim, attend his flight.
And heaven's foundations groan beneath the weight.
Thro' all the skies the forky lightnings play,
And radiant splendours round his head display.
From his bright eyes affrighted worlds retire :
He speaks in thunder and he breathes in fire.
Garments of heavenly light array the God ;
His throne a bright consolidated cloud —
Support me, heaven, I shudder with affright;
I quake, I sink with terror at the sight.

The Day of Judgment, a Poem, a little varied.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 625

Christians, try to impose upon him with your idle pre-
tences. Now despise his grace, laugh at his threatenings,
and make light of his displeasure if you are able. Ah !
now their courage fails, and terror surrounds them like
armed men. Now they hide themselves in the dens, and
in the rocks of the mountains; and say to the mountains
and rocks, Fall on us, and hide us from the face of him that
sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb ;
for the Lamb that once bled as a sacrifice for sin now ap-
pears in all the terrors of a lion ; and the great day of his
wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand 1 Rev. vi.
15. Oh ! could they hide themselves in the bottom of the
ocean, or in some rock that bears the weight of the moun-
tains, how happy would they think themselves. But, alas !

" Seas cast the monsters forth to meet their doom,
And rocks but prison up for wrath to come. — YOTTNO.

While the Judge is descending, the parties to be judged
will be summoned to appear. But where are they ?
They are all asleep in their dusty beds, except the then
generation. And how shall they be roused from their long
sleep of thousands of years? Why, "the Lord himself
shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of
the archangel, and with the trump of God." 1 Thess. iv. 16.
The trumpet shall sound, and they that are then alive shall
not pass into eternity through the beaten road of death,
but at the last trumpet they shall be changed, changed into
immortals, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. 1 Cor.
xv. 51, 52. Now all the millions of mankind, of whatever
country and nation, whether they expect this tremendous
day or not, all feel a shock through their whole frames,
while they are instantaneously metamorphosed in every
limb, and the pulse of immortality begins to beat strong in
every part. Now also the slumberers under ground begin

526 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

to stir, to rouse, and spring to life. Now see graves
opening, tombs bursting, charnel-houses rattling, the earth
heaving, and all alive, while these subterranean armies are
bursting their way through. See clouds of human dust
and broken bones darkening the air, and flying from coun-
try to country over intervening continents and oceans to
meet their kindred fragments, and repair the shattered
frame with pieces collected from a thousand different quar-
ters, whither they were blown away by winds, or washed
by waters. See what millions start up in company in the
spots where Ninevah, Babylon, Jerusalem, Rome, and
London once stood ! Whole armies spring to life in fields
where they once lost their lives in battle, and were left
unburied ; in fields which fattened with their blood, pro-
duced a thousand harvests, and now produce a crop of
men. See a succession of thousands of years rising in
crowds from grave-yards round the places where they once
attended, in order to prepare for this decisive day. Nay,
graves yawn, and swarms burst into life under palaces
and buildings of pride and pleasure, in fields and forests,
in thousands of places where graves were never suspected.
How are the living surprised to find men starting into
life under their feet, or just beside them; some begin-
ing to stir and heave the ground; others half-risen, and
others quite disengaged from the incumbrance of earth,
and standing upright before them ! What vast multitudes
that had slept in a watery grave, now emerge from rivers,
and seas, and oceans, and throw them into a tumult!
Now appear to the view of all the world the Goliahs, the
Anakims, and the other giants of ancient times ; and now
the millions of infants, those little particles of life, start up
at once, perhaps in full maturity, or perhaps in the lowest
"lass of mankind, dwarfs of immortality. The dead, small
und great, will arise to stand before God; and the sea shall

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 527

give up the dead which were in it. Rev. xx. 12, 13. Now
the many that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake,
some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting
contempt. Dan. xii. 2. Now the hour is come when all that
are in the grave shall hear the voice of the Son of God,
and shall come forth ; they that have done good, to the
resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the
resurrection of damnation. John v. 28. Though after
our skin, worms destroy this body, yet in our flesh shall we
see God, whom we shall see for ourselves; and these eyes
shall behold him, and not another. Job. xix. 26, 27. Then
this corruptible [body] shall put on incorruption, and this
mortal shall put on immortality. 1 Cor. xv. 23.

As the characters, and consequently the doom of man-
kind, will be very different, so we may reasonably suppose
they will rise in very different forms of glory or dishonour,
of beauty or deformity. Their bodies indeed will all be
improved to the highest degree, and all made vigorous,
capacious, and immortal. But here lies the difference :
the bodies of the righteous will be strengthened to bear
an exceeding great and eternal weight of glory, but those
of the wicked will be strengthened to sustain a heavier
load of misery ; their strength will be but mere strength to
suffer a horrid capacity of greater pain. The immortality
of the righteous will be the duration of their happiness,
but that of the wicked of their misery ; their immortality,
the highest privilege of their nature, will be their heaviest
curse : and they would willingly exchange their duration
with an insect of a day, or a fading flower. The bodies
of the righteous will " shine as the sun, and as the stars in
the firmament for ever and ever;" but those of the wicked
will be grim, and shocking, and ugly, and hateful as hell.
The bodies of the righteous will be fit mansions for their
heavenly spirits to inhabit, and every feature will speak the

528 THE UINVERSAL JUDGMENT.

delightful passions that agreeably work within; but the
wicked will be but spirits of hell clothed in the material
bodies; and malice, rage, despair, and all the infernal pas-
sions, will lower in their countenances, and cast a dismal
gloom around them ! Oh ! they will then be nothing else
but shapes of deformity and terror ! they will look like the
natives of hell, and spread horror around them with every
look.*

With what reluctance may we suppose will the souls
of the wicked enter again into a state of union with these
shocking forms, that will be everlasting engines of torture
to them, as they once were instruments of sin ! But oh !
with what joy will the souls of the righteous return to their
old habitations, in which they once served their God with
honest though feeble endeavours, now so gloriously re-
paired and improved ! How will they congratulate the re-
surrection of their old companions from their long sleep
in death, now made fit to share with them in the sublime
employments and fruitions of heaven ? Every organ will
be an instrument of service and an inlet of pleasure, and
the soul shall no longer be encumbered but assisted by this
union to the body. Oh what surprising creatures can
Omnipotence raise from the dust ! To what a high de-
gree of beauty can the Almighty refine the offspring of the
earth ! and into what miracles of glory and blessedness can
he form them ! t

* How weak, how pale, how haggard, how obscene,
What more than death in every face and mien !
With what distress, and glarings of affright
They shock the heart, and turn away the sight !
In gloomy orbs their trembling eye-balls roll,
And tell the horrid secrets of the soul.
Each gesture mourns, each look is black with care ;
And every groan is loaden with despair. — YOUNQ.

f Mark, on the right, how amiable a grace!
Their Maker's image fresh in every face !

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 529

Now the Judge is come, the Judgment-seat is erected,
the dead are raised. And what follows ? Why, the uni-
versal convention of all the sons of men before the Judg-
ment-seat. The place of judgment will probably be the
extensive region of the air, the most capacious for the
reception of such a multitude ; for St. Paul tells us the
saint shall "be caught up together in the clouds to meet
the Lord in the air." 1 Thess. iv. 17. And that the air
will be the place of judicature, perhaps, may be intimated
when our Lord is represented as coming in the clouds, and
sitting upon a cloudy throne. These expressions can hardly
be understood literally, for clouds which consisted of
vapours and rarified particles of water, seem very improper
materials for a chariot of state, or a throne of judgment
but they may very properly intimate that Christ will make
his appearance, and hold his court in the region of the
clouds ; that is, in the air ; and perhaps that the rays of light
and majestic darkness shall be so blended around him as
to form the appearance of a cloud to the view of the won-
dering and gazing world.

To this upper region, from whence our globe will lie
open to view far and wide, will all the sons of men be
convened. And they will be gathered together by the
ministry of angels, the officers of this grand court. The
Son of man, when he comes in the clouds of heaven with
power and great glory, " shall send forth his angels with a
great sound of the trumpet, and they shall gather together
his elect from the four winds, and from one end of heaven
to the other." Matt. xxiv. 30, 31. Their ministry also
extends to the wicked, whom they will drag away to

What purple bloom my ravish'd soul admires,
And their eyes sparkling with immortal fires !
Triumphant beauty ! charms that rise above
This world, and in blest angels kindle love ! —
Oh ! the transcendent glories of the Just ! — YOUNG.
VOL. I.— 67

530 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

judgment and execution, and separate from the righteous.
For " in the end of the world," says Christ, " the Son of
man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out
of his kingdom all things that offend, and them which do
iniquity : and shall cast them into a furnace of fire : there
shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." Matt. xiii. 40,
41, 42.

What an august convocation, what a vast assembly is
this ! See flights of angels darting round the globe from
east to west, from pole to pole, gathering up here and
there the scattered saints, choosing them out from among
the crowd of the ungodly, and bearing them aloft on their
wings to meet the Lord in the air ! while the wretched
crowd look and gaze, and stretch their hands, and would
mount up along with them ; but, alas ! they must be left
behind, and wait for another kind of convoy; a convoy of
cruel, unrelenting devils, who shall snatch them up as their
prey with malignant joy, and place them before the flaming
tribunal. Now all the sons of men meet in one immense
assembly. Adam beholds the long line of his posterity,
and they behold their common father. Now Europeans
and Asiatics, the swarthy sons of Africa and the savages
of America, mingle together. Christians, Jews, Mahome-
tans, and Pagans, the learned and the ignorant, kings and
subjects, rich and poor, free and bond, form one promis-
cuous crowd. Now all the vast armies that conquered or
fell under Xerxes, Darius, Alexander, Csesar, Scipio,
Tamerlane, Marlborough, and other illustrious warriors,
unite in one vast army. There, in short, all the successive
inhabitants of the earth for thousands of years appear in
one assembly. And how inconceivably great must the
number be ! When the inhabitants of but one county are
met together, you are struck with the survey. Were all
the inhabitants of a kingdom convened in one place, how

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 531

much more striking would be the sight ! Were all the
inhabitants of the kingdoms of the earth convened in one
general rendezvous, how astonishing and vast would be the
multitude ! But what is even this vast multitude compared
with the long succession of generations that have peopled
the globe, in all ages, and in all countries, from the first
commencement of time to the last day ! Here numbers
fail, and our thoughts are lost in the immense survey.
The extensive region of the air is very properly chosen
as the place of judgment; for this globe would not be suf-
ficient for such a multitude to stand upon. In that pro-
digious assembly, my brethren, you and I must mingle.
And we shall not be lost in the crowd, nor escape the
notice of our Judge ; but his eye will be as particulary
fixed on every one of us as though there were but one
before him.

To increase the number, and add a majesty and terror,
to the assembly, the fallen angels also make their appear-
ance at the bar. This they have long expected with
horror, as the period when their consummate misery is to
commence. When Christ, in the form of a servant, exer-
cised a god-like power over them in the days of his resi-
dence upon earth, they almost mistook his first coming as
a Saviour for his second coming as their Judge; and
therefore they expostulated, Art thou come to torment us
before the time ? Matt. viii. 29. That is to say, We ex-
pect thou wilt at last appear to torment us, but we did not
expect thy coming so soon. Agreeable to this, St. Peter
tells us, " God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast
them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of dark-
ness, to be reserved unto judgment." 2 Peter ii. 4. To
the same purpose St. Jude speaks : " The angels which
kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he
hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness, unto

532 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

the judgment of the great day." Jude 6. What horribly
majestic figures will these be ! and what a dreadful appear-
ance will they make at the bar! angels and archangels,
thrones, and dominions, and principalities, and powers
blasted, stripped of their primeval glories, and lying in
ruins ; yet majestic even in ruins, gigantic forms of terror
and deformity ; great though degraded, horribly illustrious,
angels fallen, gods undeified and deposed.*

Now the Judge is seated, and anxious millions stand
before him waiting for their doom. As yet there is no
separation made between them ; but men and devils, saints
and sinners, are promiscuously blended together. But
see ! at the order of the Judge, the crowd is all in motion !
they part, they sort together according to their character,
and divide to the right and left. When all nations are
gathered before the Son of man, himself has told us, " He
shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divid-
eth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set the sheep
on his right hand, but the goats on the left." Matt. xxv.
32, 33. And, oh! what strange separations are now
made ! what multitudes that once ranked themselves among
the saints, and were highly esteemed for their piety, by
others as well as themselves, are now banished from among
them, and placed with the trembling criminals on the left
hand ! and how many poor, honest-hearted, doubting, de-
sponding souls, whose foreboding fears had often placed
them there, now find themselves, to their agreeable sur-

-The foe of God and man

From his dark den, blaspheming, drags his chain,

And rears his blazing front, with thunder scarred ;

Eeceives his sentence, and begins his hell.

All vengeance past, now seems abundant grace ;

Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll

His baleful eyes ! he curses whom he dreads,

And deems it the first moment of his fall. — YOUNG.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 533

prise, stationed on the right hand of their Judge, who
smiles upon them ! What connections are now broken !
what hearts torn assunder! what intimate companions,
what dear relations parted for ever ! neighbour from neigh-
bour, masters from servants, friend from friend, parents
from children, husband from wife; those who were but
one flesh, and who lay in one another's bosoms, must part
for ever. Those that lived in the same country, who sus-
tained the same denomination, who worshipped in the
same place, who lived under one roof, who lay in the same
womb, and sucked the same breasts, must now part for
ever. And is there no separation likely to be made then
in our families or in our congregation 1 Is it likely we
shall all be placed in a body upon the right hand 1 Are
all the members of our families prepared for that glorious
station 1 Alas ! are there not some families among us
who, it is to be feared, shall all be sent off to the left hand,
without so much as one exception ? for who are those
miserable multitudes on the left hand 1 There, through
the medium of revelation, I see the drunkard, the swearer,
the whoremonger, the liar, the defrauder, and the various
classes of profane, profligate sinners. There I see the
unbeliever, the impenitent, the lukewarm formalist, and the
various classes of hypocrites, and half-Christians. There
I see the families that call not upon God's name, and
whole nations that forget him. And, oh! what vast mul-
titudes, what millions of millions of millions do all these
make ! And do not some, alas ! do not many of you be-
long to one or other of these classes of sinners whom God,
and Christ, and Scripture, and conscience conspire to con-
demn ? If so, to the left hand you must depart among
devils and trembling criminals, whose guilty minds forbode
their doom before the jndicial process begins. But who
are those glorious immortals upon the right hand ? They

534 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

are those who have surrendered themselves entirely to
God, through Jesus Christ, who have heartily complied
with the method of salvation revealed in the gospel ; who
have been formed new creatures by the almighty power
of God ; who make it the most earnest, persevering en-
deavour of their lives to work out their own salvation, and
to live righteously, soberly, and godly in the world. These
are some of the principal lineaments of their character
who shall have their safe and honourable station at the
right hand of the sovereign Judge. And is not this the
prevailing character of some of you ? I hope and believe
it is. Through the medium of Scripture revelation then
I see you in that blessed station. And, oh ! I would make
an appointment with you this day to meet you there.
Yes, let us this day appoint the time and place where we
shall meet after the separation and dispersion that death
will make among us ; and let it be at the right hand of the
Judge at the last day. If I be so happy as to obtain some
humble place there, I shall look out for you, my dear
people. There I shall expect your company, that we may
ascend together to join in the more exalted services and
enjoyments of heaven, as we have frequently in the hum-
bler forms of worship in the church on earth. But, oh !
when I think what unexpected separations will then be
made, I tremble lest I should miss some of you there.
Are you not afraid lest you should miss some of your
friends, or some of your families there ? or that you should
then see them move off to the left hand, and looking back
with eagerness upon you, as if they would say, " This is
my doom through your carelessness ; had you but acted a
faithful part towards me, while conversant with you or
under your care, I might now have had my place among
the saints." Oh! how could you bear such significant
piercing looks from a child, a servant, or a friend ! There-

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 535

fore now do all in your power to " convert sinners from
the error of their way, and to save their souls from
death."

When we entered upon this practical digression, we left
all things ready for the judicial process. And now the trial
begins. Now " God judges the secrets of men by Jesus
Christ." Rom. ii. 16. All the works of all the sons of
men will then be tried ; " For," says St. Paul, " we must
all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every
one may receive the things done in his body, according to
that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." 2 Cor. v.
10. St. John in his vision " saw the dead judged accord-
ing to their works." Rev. xx. 12, 13. These works im-
mediately refer to the actions of the life, but they may also
include the inward temper, and thoughts of the soul, and
the words of the lips ; for all these shall be brought into
judgment. " God," says Solmon, " shall bring every work
into judgment, and every secret thing, whether it be good,
or whether it be evil." Eccl. xii. 14. And though we are
too apt to think our words are free, he that is to be our
Judge has told us that " for every idle word which men
speak, they shall give an account in the day of judgment ;
for by thy words," as well as thy actions, " thou shalt be
justified; and by thy words thou shalt be condemned."
Matt. xii. 36, 37.

What strange discoveries will this trial make? what
noble dispositions that never shone in full beauty to mortal
eyes; what generous purposes crushed in embryo for
want of power to execute them ; what pious and noble
actions concealed under the veil of modesty, or miscon-
strued by ignorance and prejudice ; what affectionate
aspirations, what devout exercises of heart, which lay open
only to the eyes of Omniscience, are now brought to full
light, and receive the approbation of the Supreme Judge

536 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

before the assembled universe ? But on the other hand,
what works of shame and darkness, what hidden things of
dishonesty, what dire secrets of treachery, hypocrisy, lewd-
ness, and various forms of wickedness artfully and indus-
triously concealed from human sight, what horrid exploits
of sin now burst to light in all their hellish colours, to the
confusion of the guilty, and the astonishment and horror
of the universe ! Sure the history of mankind must then
appear like the annals of hell, or the biography of devils !
Then the mask of dissimulation will be torn off. Clouded
characters will clear up, and men as well as things will
appear in their true light. Their hearts will be, as it were,
turned outwards, and all their secrets exposed to full view.
The design of the judicial inquiry will not be to inform
the omniscient Judge, but to convince all worlds of the
justice of his proceedings; and this design renders it
necessary that all these things should be laid open to their
sight, that they may see the grounds upon which he passes
sentence. And may not the prospect of such a discovery
fill some of you with horror ? for many of your actions,
and especially of your thoughts, will not bear the light.
How would it confound you, if they were now all pub-
lished, even in the small circle of your acquaintance ?
How then can you bear to have them all fully exposed be-
fore God, angels, and men ! Will it not confound you
with shame, and make you objects of everlasting contempt
to all worlds ?

These are the facts to be tried. But by what rule shall
they be tried? From the goodness and justice of God
we may conclude that men will be judged by some rule
known to them, or which at least it was in their power to
know. Now the light of reason, the law of nature, or
conscience, is a universal rule, and universally known, or at
least knowable by all the sons of men, heathens and

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 537

Mahometans, as well as Jews and Christians : and there-
fore all mankind shall be judged by this rule. This the
consciences of all now forebodes ; " for when the Gentiles
which have not the law, do by nature the things contained
in the law, these, not having the law, are a law unto them-
selves, which show the works of the law written in their
hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their
thoughts, the meanwhile, accusing or else excusing one
another." Rom. ii. 14, 15. By this rule their consciences
now acquit or condemn them, because they know that by
this rule they shall then be judged : this seems to be a
kind of innate presentiment of human nature. As the
heathens were invincibly ignorant of every rule but this,
they shall be judged by this only. But as to those parts
of the world that enjoyed, or might enjoy the advantages
of revelation, whether by tradition with the Anti-Mosaic
world, or in the writings of Moses and the prophets with
the Jews, or in the clearer dispensation of the gospel with
the Christian world, they shall be judged by this revealed
law. And by how much the more perfect the rule, by so
much the stricter will their account be. That which
would be an excusable infirmity in an African or an
American Indian, may be an aggravated crime in us who
enjoy such superior advantages. This is evident from the
repeated declarations of sacred writ. " As many as have
sinned without law, (that is, without the written law,)
shall also perish without law ; and as many as have sinned
in the law shall be judged by the law, in the day when
God shall judge the secrets of men according to my gos-
pel." Rom. ii. 12, 16. "If I had not come and spoken
unto them," says the blessed Jesus, " they had not had sin ;"
that is, they would not have had sin so aggravated, or they
would not have had the particular sin of unbelief in reject-
ing the Messiah : but now they have no cloak for their sin,

VOL. I.— 68

538 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

John xv. 22 ; that is, now when they have had such abun-
dant conviction, they are utterly inexcusable. "This,"
says he, "is the condemnation;" that is, this is the occa-
sion of the most aggravated condemnation ; " that light is
come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than
light, because their deeds were evil." John iii. 19. "That
servant which knew his Lord's will, and prepared not him-
self, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with
many stripes; but he that knew not, and did commit
things worthy of stripes, (observe, ignorance is no suffi-
cient excuse, except when invincible,) shall be beaten with
few stripes; for unto whomsoever much is given, of him
shall be much required." Luke xii. 47, 48. Upon these
maxims of eternal righteousness, the Judge will proceed in
pronouncing the doom of the world; and it was upon
these principles he declared, in the days of his flesh, " that
it should be more tolerable in the day of judgment for
Sodom and Gomorrah, for Tyre and Sidon," than for those
places that enjoyed the advantages of his ministry, and
misimproved it. Matt. xi. 21, 24. Whether upon these
principles sinners among us have not reason to expect
they will obtain a horrid precedence among the million of
sinners in that day, I leave you to judge, and to tremble
at the thought.

There is another representation of this proceeding,
which we often meet with in the sacred writings, in al-
lusion to the forms of proceedings in human courts. In
courts of law, law-books are referred to, opened, and read
for the direction of the judges, and sentence is passed ac-
cording to them. In allusion to this custom, Daniel, in
vision, saw the judgment was set, and the books were
opened : Dan. vii. 10. And St. John had the same rep-
resentation made to him : " I saw the dead," says he,
" small and great, stand before God, and the books were

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 539

opened ; and another book was opened, which is the book
of life ; and the dead were judged out of the things which
were written in the books, according to their works : Rev.
xx. 12.

Should we pursue this significant allusion, we may say,
then will be opened the book of the law of nature ; and
mankind will be tried according to its precepts, and
doomed according to its sentence. This is a plain and
vast volume, opened and legible now to all that can read
their own hearts; that have eyes to look round upon the
works of God, which show his glory and their duty ; and
who have ears to hear the lectures which the sun and
moon, and all the works of creation, read to them night
and day. Then, too, will be opened the book of Scrip-
ture-revelation, in all its parts, both the law of Moses and
the gospel of Christ ; and according to it will those be
judged who lived under one or other of these dispensa-
tions. Then it will appear that that neglected, old-fash-
ioned book called the Bible is not a romance, or a system
of trifling truths, but the standard of life and death to all
who had access to it. Then will also be opened the book
of God's remembrance. In that are recorded all the
thoughts, words, actions, both good and bad, of all the sons
of men : and now the immense account shall be publicly
read before the assembled universe. Then, likewise, as a
counterpart to this, will be opened the book of conscience ;
conscience which, though unnoticed, writes our whole
history as with an iron pen and the point of a diamond.*

* 0 treacherous Conscience ! while she seems to sleep
On rose and myrtle, lull'd with Syren song ;
While she seems, nodding o'er her charge, to drop
On headlong appetite the slacken 'd reign,
And give us up to license unrecall'd,
Unmark'd — as from behind her secret stand
The sly informer minutes every fault,

5 10 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

Then, also, we are expressly told, will be opened the book
of life : Rev. xx. 12, in which are contained all the names
of all the heirs of heaven. This seems to be an allusion
to those registers which are kept in cities or corporations,
of the names of all the citizens or members who have a
right to all the privileges of the society. And I know not
what we can understand by it so properly as the perfect
knowledge which the omniscient God has, and always had
from eternity, of those on whom he purposed to bestow
eternal life, and whom he has from eternity, as it were,
registered as members of the general assembly and church
of the first-born, who are written in heaven, or as denizens
of that blessed city. These, having been all prepared by
his grace in time, shall be admitted into the New Jerusa-
lem in that day of the Lord.

Farther, the representation which the Scripture gives us
of the proceedings of that day leads us to conceive of wit-
nesses being produced to prove the facts. The omniscient
Judge will be a witness against the guilty. " I will come
near to you to judgment, and I will be a swift witness against
the sorcerers, and against the adulterers, and against false
swearers, and against those that oppress, and hear not me,
saith the Lord of Hosts :" Mai. iii. 5. And he will, no
doubt, be a witness for his people, and attest their sincere
piety, their interest in Christ, and those good dispositions
or actions which were known only to him.

And her dread diary with horror fills —

Unnoted notes each moment misapply'd,

In leaves more durable than leaves of brass,

Writes our whole history ; which Death shall read

In every pale offender's private ear ;

And Judgment publish, publish to more worlds

Than this and endless age in groans resound.

Such, sinner, is that sleeper in thy breast ;

Such is her slumber ; and her vengeance such

For slighted counsel. YOUNG.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 541

Angels, also, that ministered to the heirs of salvation,
and no doubt inspected the affairs of mankind, will be wit-
nesses. Devils too, who once tempted, will now become
accusers. Conscience within will also be a witness ! it
shall acquit the righteous of many unjust imputations, and
attest the sincerity of their hearts and their many good
actions. But oh ! it will be the most terrible witness
against the ungodly ! They will be witnesses against
themselves, (Josh. xxiv. 22,) and this will render them self-
tormentors. Conscience will re-echo to the voice of the
Judge, and cry, Guilty, guilty, to all his accusations. And
who can make the wicked happy when they torment them-
selves? Who can acquit them when they are self-con-
demned? Conscience, whose evidence is now so often
suppressed will then have full scope, and shall be regarded.
Whom conscience condemns the righteous Judge will also
condemn ; for, " if our hearts condemn us, God is greater
than our hearts, and knoweth all things," 1 John iii. 20,
knoweth many more grounds for condemning us than we,
and therefore much more will he condemn us. In short,
so full will be the evidence against the sinner, that the
Scripture which is full of striking imagery to affect human
nature, gives life to inanimated things upon this occasion,
and represents them as speaking. Stones and dust shall
witness against the ungodly. The dust under the feet of
their ministers shall witness against them: Matt. x. 14.
" The stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of
the timber shall answer it." Heb. ii. 11. The rust of their
gold and silver shall be a witness against them, and shall
eat their flesh as it were fire. James v. 3. Nay, the hea-
vens shall reveal their iniquity, and the earth shall rise up
against them. Job xx. 27. Heaven and earth were called
to witness that life and death were set before them, Deut.
xxx. 1 9, and now they will give in their evidence that they

542 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

chose death. Thus God and all his creatures, heaven,
earth, and hell, rise up against them, accuse and condemn
them. And will not sinners accuse and witness against
one another? Undoubtedly they will. They who lived
or conversed together upon earth, and were spectators of
each other's conduct, will then turn mutual witnesses
against each other. Oh, tremendous thought ! that friend
should inform and witness against friend ; parents against
children, and children against parents; ministers against
their people, and people against their ministers ; alas ! what
a confounding testimony against each other must those
give in who are now sinning together !

Thus the way is prepared for the passing sentence.
The case was always clear to the omniscient Judge, but
now it is so fully discussed and attested by so many evi-
dences, that it is quite plain to the whole world of crea-
tures, who can judge only by such evidence, and for whose
conviction the formality of a judicial process is appointed.
How long a time this grand court will sit, we cannot de-
termine, nor has God thought fit to inform us ; but when
we consider how particular the trial will be, and the innu-
merable multitude to be tried, it seems reasonable to sup-
pose it will be a long session. It is indeed often called a
day ; but it is evident a day in such cases does not signify
a natural day, but the space of time allotted for transacting
a business, though it be a hundred or even a thousand
years. Creatures are incapable of viewing all things at
once, and therefore, since the trial, as I observed, is in-
tended to convince them of the equity of the divine pro-
ceedings, it is proper the proceedings should be particular
and leisurely, that they may have time to observe them.

We are now come to the grand crisis, upon which the
eternal states of all mankind turn ; I mean the passing the
great decisive sentence. Heaven and earth are all silence

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 543

and attention, \vhile the Judge, with smiles in his face,
and a voice sweeter than heavenly music, turns to the glo-
rious company on his right hand, and pours all the joys of
heaven into their souls, in that transporting sentence, of
which he has graciously left us a copy; Come, ye blessed
of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world. Every word is full of em-
phasis, full of heaven, and exactly agreeable to the desires
of those to whom it is addressed. They desired, and
longed, and languished to be near their Lord; and now
their Lord invites them, Come near me, and dwell with
me for ever. There was nothing they desired so much as
the blessing of God, nothing they feared so much as his
curse, and now their fears are entirely removed, and their
designs fully accomplished, for the supreme Judge pro-
nounces them blessed of his Father. They were all poor
in spirit, most of them poor in this world, and all sensible
of their unworthiness. How agreeably then are they sur-
prised, to hear themselves invited to a kingdom, invited to
inherit a kingdom, as princes of the blood-royal, born to
thrones and crowns ! How will they be lost in wonder,
joy, and praise, to find that the great God entertained
thoughts of love towards them, before they had a being,
or the world in which they dwelt had its foundation laid,
and that he was preparing a kingdom for them while they
were nothing, unknown even in idea, except to himself?
O brethren ! dare any of us expect this sentence will be
passed upon us? Methinks the very thought overwhelms
us. Methinks our feeble frames must be unable to bear
up under the extatic hope of so sweetly oppressive a
blessedness. Oh ! if this be our sentence in that day, it is
no matter what we suffer in the intermediate space ; that
sentence would compensate for all, and annihilate the suf-
ferings of ten thousand years.

544 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

But hark ! another sentence breaks from the mouth of
the angry Judge, like vengeful thunder. Nature gives a
deep tremendous groan; the heavens lower and gather
blackness, the earth trembles, and guilty millions sink with
horror at the sound ! And see, he whose words are works,
whose fiat produces worlds out of nothing ; he who could
remand ten thousand worlds, into nothing at a frown ; he
whose thunder quelled the insurrection of rebel angels in
heaven, and hurled them headlong down, down, down, to
the dungeon of hell ; see, he turns to the guilty crowd on
his left hand ; his angry countenance discovers the right-
eous indignation that glows in his breast. His counte-
nance bespeaks him inexorable, and that there is now no
room for prayers and tears. Now, the sweet, mild, media-
torial hour is past, and nothing appears but the majesty
and terror of the judge. Horror and darkness frown upon
his brow, and vindictive lightnings flash from his eyes.
And now, (Oh ! who can bear the sound !) he speaks,
" Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared
for the devil and his angels !" Oh ! the cutting emphasis
of every word ! Depart ! depart from me ; from me, the
Author of all good, the Fountain of all good, the Fountain
of all happiness. Depart, with all my heavy, all-consum-
ing curse upon you! Depart into fire, into everlasting,
fire, prepared, furnished with fuel, and blown up into rage,
prepared for the devil and his angels, once your com-
panions in sin, and now the companions and executioners
of your punishment!

Now the grand period is arrived in which the final,
everlasting states of mankind are unchangeably settled.
From this all-important era their happiness or misery runs
on in one uniform, uninterrupted tenor; no change, no
gradation, but from glory to glory, in the scale of perfection,
or from gulf to gulf in hell. This is the day in which all

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 545

the schemes of Providence, carried on for thousands of
years, terminate.

" Great day ! for which all other days were made :
For which earth rose from chaos : man from earth :
And an eternity, the date of gods,
Descended on poor earth-created man !" — YOUNG.

Time was ; but it is no more ! Now aH the sons of
men enter upon a duration not to be measured by the revo-
lutions of the sun, nor by days, and months, and years.
Now eternity dawns, a day that shall never see an evening.
And this terribly illustrious morning is solemnized with the
execution of the sentence. No sooner is it passed than
immediately the wicked "go away into everlasting pun
ishment, but the righteous into life eternal." Matt. xxv.
46. See the astonished, thunder-struck multitude on the
left hand, with sullen horror, and grief, and despair in their
looks, writhing with agony, crying and wringing their
hands, and glancing a wishful eye towards that heaven
which they lost : dragged away by devils to the place of
execution! See, hell expands her voracious jaws, and
swallows them up! and now an eternal farewell to earth
and all its enjoyments! Farewell to the cheerful light
of heaven ! Farewell to hope, that sweet relief of afflic-
tion!

-" Farewell, happy fields,

"Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail,
Infernal world ! and thou, profoundest hell,
Receive thy new possessors !" — MILTON.

Heaven frowns upon them from above, the horrors of hell
spread far and wide around them, and conscience within
preys upon their hearts. Conscience! O thou abused,
exasperated power, that now sleepest in so many breasts !
what severe, ample revenge wilt thou then take upon

VOL. I.— 69

546 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

those that now dare to do thee violence! Oh the dire
reflections which memory will then suggest ! the remem-
brance of mercies abused ! of a Saviour slighted! of means
and opportunities of salvation neglected and lost! this
remembrance will sting the heart like a scorpion. But
O eternity! eternity! with what horror will thy name
circulate through the vaults of hell ! eternity in misery !
no end to pain! no hope of an end! Oh this is the hell
of hell ! this is the parent of despair ! despair the direst
ingredient of misery, the most tormenting passion which
devils feel. But let us view a more delightful and illus-
trious scene.

See the bright and triumphant army marching up to
their eternal home, under the conduct of the Captain of
their salvation, where they shall ever be with the Lord, 1
Thess. iv. 17, as happy as their nature in its highest im-
provements is capable of being made. With what shouts
of joy and triumph do they ascend ! with what sublime
hallelujahs do they crown their Deliverer! with what
wonder and joy, with what pleasing horror, like one that
has narrowly escaped some tremendous precipice, do they
look back upon what they once were ! once mean, guilty,
depraved, condemned sinners ! afterward imperfect, broken-
hearted, sighing, weeping saints ! but now innocent, holy,
happy, glorious immortals !

" Are these the forms that mouldered in the dust?
Oh the transcendent glories of the just!" — YoTJKG.

Now with what pleasure and rapture do they look for-
ward through the long, long prospect of immortality, and
call it their own ! the duration not only of their existence,
but of their happiness and glory! Oh shall any of us
share in this immensely valuable privilege ! how immensely
transporting the thought !

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 547

" Shall we, who some few years ngo were less
Than worm, or mite, or shadow can express;
Were nothing; shall we live, when every fire
Of every star shall languish or expire ?
When earth's no more, shall we survive above,
And through the shining ranks of angels move ?
Or, as before the throne of God we stand,
See new worlds rolling from his mighty hand ? —
All that has being in full concert join,
And celebrate the depths of love divine!" — YOUNG.

Oh what exploits, what miracles of power and grace,
are these ! But why do I darken such splendours with
words without knowledge? the language of mortals was
formed for lower descriptions. " Eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the
things which God hath prepared for them that love him."
1 Cor. ii. 9.

And now when the inhabitants of our world, for whose
sake it was formed, are all removed to other regions, and
it is left a wide extended desert, what remains, but that it
also meet its fate ? It is fit so guilty a globe, that had
been the stage of sin for so many thousands of years, and
which even supported the cross on which its Maker expired,
should be made a monument of the divine displeasure, and
either be laid in ruins, or refined by fire. And see ! the
universal blaze begins ! the heavens pass away with a great
noise ; the elements melt with fervent heat ; the earth also
and the works that are therein are burnt up. 2 Pet. iii. 10.
Now stars rush from their orbits ; comets glare ; the earth
trembles with convulsions; the Alps, the Andes, and all
the lofty peaks or long extended ridges of mountains burst
out into so many burning Jlltnas, or thunder, and lighten,
and smoke, and flame, and quake like Sinai, when God
descended upon it to publish his fiery law ! Rocks melt
and run down in torrents of flame; rivers, lakes, and
oceans boil and evaporate. Sheets of fire and pillars of

548 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

smoke, outrageous and insufferable thunders and lightnings
burst, and bellow, and blaze, and involve the atmosphere
from pole to pole.* The whole globe is now dissolved
into a shoreless ocean of liquid fire. And where now
shall we find the places where cities stood, where armies
fought, where mountains stretched their ridges, and reared
their heads on high? Alas! they are all lost, and have
left no trace behind them where they once stood. Where
art thou, oh my country? Sunk with the rest as a drop
into the burning ocean. Where now are your houses,
your lands, and those earthly possessions you were once
so fond of? They are nowhere to be found. How sorry
a portion for an immortal mind is such a dying world as
this! And, oh!

11 How rich that God who can such charge defray,
And bear to fling ten thousand worlds away !" — YOUNG.

Thus, my brethren, I have given you a view of the
solemnities of the last day which our world shall see.
The view has indeed been but very faint and obscure :
and such will be all our views and descriptions of it, till
our eyes and our ears teach us better. Through these
avenues you will at length receive your instructions.
Yes, brethren, those ears that now hear my voice shall
hear the all-alarming clangor of the last trumpet, the
decisive sentence from the mouth of the universal Judge,
and the horrid crash of falling worlds. These very eyes
with which you now see one another, shall yet see the
descending Judge, the assembled multitudes, and all the
majestic phenomena of that day. And we shall not see

* " See all the formidable sons of fire,

Eruptions, earthquakes, comets, lightnings play
Their various engines ; all at once discharge
Their blazing magazines ; and take by storm
This poor terrestrial citadel of man." — YOUNG.

THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 549

them as indifferent spectators; no, we are as much con-
cerned in this great transaction as any of the children of
men. We must all appear before the judgment-seat, and
receive our sentence according to the deeds done in the
body. And if so, what are we doing that we are not more
diligently preparing? Why does not the prospect affect
us more? Why does it not transport the righteous with
joy unspeakable, and full of glory ? 1 Peter i. 8. And
why are not the sinners in Zion afraid ? Why does not
fearfulness surprise the hypocrites? Isa. xxxiii. 14. Can
one of you be careless from this hour till you are in
readiness for that tremendous day?

What! do the sinners among you now think of repent-
ance ? Repentance is the grand preparative for this awful
day; and the apostle, as I observed, mentions the final
judgment in my text as a powerful motive to repentance.
And what will criminals think of repentance when they see
the Judge ascend his throne ? Come, sinners, look for-
ward and see the flaming tribunal erected, your .crimes
exposed, your doom pronounced, and your hell begun ; see
a whole world demolished, and ravaged by boundless con-
flagration for your sins ! With these objects before you, I
call you to repent ! I call you ! I retract the words :
God, the great God, whom heaven and earth obey, com-
mands you to repent. Whatever be your characters,
whether rich or poor, old or young, white or black,
wherever you sit or stand, this command reaches you ;
for God now commandeth all men everywhere to repent.
You are this day firmly bound to this duty by his autho-
rity. And dare you disobey with the prospect of all the
awful solemnities of judgment before you in so near a
view ? Oh ! methinks I have now brought you into such
a situation, that the often-repeated but hitherto neglected
call to repentance will be regarded by you. Repent you

550 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT.

must, either upon earth or in hell. You must either spend
your time or your eternity in repentance. It is absolutely
unavoidable. Putting it off now does not remove the
necessity, but will only render it the more bitter and severe
hereafter. Which then do you choose? the tolerable,
hopeful medicinal repentance of the present life, or the
intolerable, unprofitable, despairing repentance of hell?
Will you choose to spend time or eternity in this melan-
choly exercise ? Oh ! make the choice which God, which
reason, which self-interest, which common sense recom-
mend to you. Now repent at the command of God, became
he hath appointed a day in which he will judge the world
in righteousness, by that Man whom he hath ordained, of
which he hath given you all full assurance in that he
raised him from the dead. AMEN.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 551

SERMON XXI.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.*

LUKE x. 41, 42. — And Jesus answered, and said unto her,
Martha, Martha, thou art careful, and troubled about
many things : but one thing is needful ; and Mary hath
chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away
from her.

FOR what are we placed in this world ? Is it to dwell
here always 1 You cannot think so, when the millions of
mankind that have appeared upon the stage of time are so
many instances of the contrary. The true notion there-
fore of the present state is, that it is a state of preparation
and trial for the eternal world ; a state of education for our
adult age. As children are sent to school, and youth
bound out to trades, to prepare them for business, and
qualify them to live in the world, so we are placed here to
prepare us for the grand business of immortality, the state
of our maturity, and to qualify us to live for ever. And
is there a heaven of the most perfect happiness, and a hell
of the most exquisite misery, just before us, perhaps not a
year or even a day distant from us ? And is it the great
design, the business and duty of the present state, to obtain

* A gentleman who heard this sermon delivered, told Dr. Archibald
Alexander, many years afterward, that " the mere enunciation of the text
produced a greater effect upon him than any sermon he had ever heard, so
commanding was the personal appearance of Mr. Davies, and so solemn
and impressive was his utterance "

[EDITOR OF THE BOARD OF PUBLICATION.]

552 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

the one and escape the other ? Then what are we doing I
What is the world doing all around us ? Are they acting
as it becomes candidates for eternity ? Are they indeed
making that the principal object of their most zealous en-
deavours, which is the grand design, business and duty of
the present state 1 Are they minding this at all adventures,
whatever else they neglect 1 This is what we might ex-
pect from them as reasonable creatures that love them-
selves, and have a strong innate desire of happiness. This
a stranger to our world might charitably presume concern-
ing them. But, alas ! look upon the conduct of the world
around you, or look nearer home, and where you are more
nearly interested, upon your own conduct, and you will
see this is not generally the case. No ; instead of pursu-
ing the one thing needful, the world is all in motion, all
bustle and hurry, like ants upon a mole-hill, about other
affairs. They are in a still higher degree than officious
Martha, careful and troubled about many things. Now to
recall you from this endless variety of vain pursuits, and
direct your endeavours to the proper object, I can think
of no better expedient than to explain and inculcate upon
you the admonition of Christ to Martha, and his commen-
dation of Mary upon this head.

Martha was the head of a little family, probably a widow
in a village near Jerusalem, called Bethany. Her brother
and sister, Lazarus and Mary, lived along with her. And
what is remarkable concerning this little family is, that
they were all lovers of Jesus : and their love was not with-
out return on his side; for we are expressly told that
Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. What
a happy family is this ! but oh how rare in the world !
This was a convenient place of retirement to Jesus, after
the labours and fatigues of his ministry in the city, and
here we often find him. Though spent and exhausted

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 553

with his public services, yet when he gets into the circle
of a few friends in a private house, he cannot be idle ; he
still instructs them with his heavenly discourse; and his
conversation is a constant sermon. Mary, who was pas-
sionately devout, and eager for instruction, would not let
such a rare opportunity slip, but sits down at the feet of
this great Teacher, which was the posture of the Jewish
pupils before their masters,* and eagerly catches every
word from his lips; from which dropped knowledge
sweeter than honey from the honey-comb. Though she
is solicitous for the comfort of her heavenly guest, yet she
makes no great stir to provide for him an elegant or sump-
tuous entertainment ; for she knew his happiness did not
consist in luxurious eating and drinking : it was his meat
and his drink to do the will of his Father ; and as the sus-
tenance of his body, plain food was most acceptable to
him. He was not willing that any should lose their souls
by losing opportunities of instruction, while they were
making sumptuous provision for him. Mary was also so
deeply engaged about her salvation, that she was nobly
careless about the little decencies of entertainments. The
body and all its supports and gratifications appeared of very
small importance to her when compared with the immor-
tal soul. Oh ! if that be but fed with the words of eternal
life, it is enough. All this she did with Christ's warm ap-
probation, and therefore her conduct is an example worthy
of our imitation : and if it were imitated, it would happily
reform the pride, luxury, excessive delicacy, and multiform
extravagance which have crept in upon us under the ingra-
tiating names of politeness, decency, hospitality, good eco-
nomy, and I know not what. These guilty superfluities
and refinements render the life of some a course of idola-

* Hence St. Paul's expression, that he was brought up at the feet of Ga-
maliel.

VOL. I.— 70

554 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

try to so sordid a god as their bellies ; and that of others
a course of busy, laborious, and expensive trifling. But
to return :

Martha, though a pious woman, yet, like too many among
us, was too solicitous about these things. She seemed
more concerned to maintain her reputation for good eco-
nomy and hospitality, than to improve in divine knowledge
at every opportunity ; and to entertain her guest rather as
a gentleman than as a divine teacher and the Saviour of souls.
Hence, instead of sitting at his feet with her sister, in the
posture of a humble disciple, she was busy in making pre-
parations ; and her mind was distracted with the cares of
her family. As moderate labour and care about earthly
things is lawful, and even a duty, persons are not readily
suspicious or easily convinced of their guilty excesses in
these labours and cares. Hence Martha is so far from
condemning herself on this account, that she blames her
devout sister for not following her example. Nay, she has
the confidence to complain to Christ himself of her neglect,
and that in language too that sounds somewhat rude and
irreverent. " Carest thou not that my sister hath left me
to serve alone ?" Art thou so partial as to suffer her to
devolve all the trouble upon me while she sits idle at thy
feet?

Jesus turns upon her with just severity, and throws the
blame where it should lie. Martha, Martha ! There is
a vehemence and pungency in the repetition, Martha,
Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things.
" Thy worldly mind has many objects, and many objects
excite many cares and troubles, fruitless troubles and use-
less cares. Thy restless mind is scattered among a thou-
sand things, and tossed from one to another with an
endless variety of anxieties. But let me collect thy
thoughts and cares to one point, a point where they should

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 555

all terminate ; one thing is needful; and therefore, drop-
ping thy excessive care about many things, make this one
thing the great object of thy pursuit. This One thing is
what thy sister is now attending to, while thou art vainly
careful about many things; and therefore, instead of
blaming her conduct, I must approve it. She has made
the best choice, for she hath chosen that good part which
shall not be taken away from her. After all thy care
and labour, the things of this vain world must be given
up at last, and lost for ever. But Mary hath made a wiser
choice ; the portion she hath chosen shall be her's for ever ;
it shall never be taken away from her."

But what does Christ mean by this one thing which
alone is needful?

I answer, We may learn what he meant by the occa-
sion and circumstances of his speaking. He mentions this
one thing in an admonition to Martha for excessive worldly
cares and the neglect of an opportunity for promoting her
salvation; and he expressly opposes this one thing to the
many things which engrossed her care; and therefore it
must mean something different from and superior to all the
pursuits of time. This one thing is that which Mary was
so much concerned about while attentively listening to his
instruction. And what can that be but salvation as the
end, and holiness as the means, or a proper care of the
soul? This is that which is opposite and superior to the
many cares of life ; — this is that which Mary was attend-
ing to and pursuing : and I may add, this is that good part
which Mary had chosen, which should never be taken away
from her; for that good part which Mary had chosen seems
intended by Christ to explain what he meant by the one
thing needful. Therefore the one thing needful must mean
the salvation of the soul, and an earnest application to the
means necessary to obtain this end above all other things

556 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

in the world. To be holy in order to be happy ; to pray,
to hear, to meditate, and use all the means of grace ap-
pointed to produce or cherish holiness in us ; to use these
means with constancy, frequency, earnestness, and zeal ; to
use them diligently whatever else be neglected, or to make
all other things give way in comparison of this; this I ap-
prehend is the one thing needful which Christ here intends :
this is that which is absolutely necessary, necessary above
all other things, and necessary for ever. The end, namely,
salvation, will be granted by all to be necessary, and the
necessity of the end renders the means also necessary. If
it be necessary you shall be for ever happy, and escape
everlasting misery, it is necessary you should be holy ; for
you can no more be saved without holiness than you can
be healthy without health, see without light, or live with-
out food. And if holiness be necessary, then the earnest
use of means appointed for the production and improve-
ment of holiness in us must be necessary too; for you
can no more expect to become holy without the use of
these means, than to reap without sowing, or become truly
virtuous and good by chance or fatality. To be holy in
order to be happy, and to use all the means of grace in
order to be holy, is therefore the one thing needful.

But why is this concern which is so complex called one
thing?

I answer : Though salvation and holiness include various
ingredients, and though the means of grace are various,
yet they may be all taken collectively and called one thing ;
that is, one great business, one important object of pursuit,
in which all our endeavours and aims should centre and
terminate. It is also said to be one, in opposition to the
many things that are the objects of a worldly mind. This
world owes its variety in a great measure to contradiction
and inconsistency. There is no harmony or unity in the

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 557

earthly objects of men's pursuits, nor in the means they
use to secure them. Riches, honours, and pleasures gener-
ally clash. If a man will be rich he must restrain himself
in the pleasures of gratifying his eager appetites, and per-
haps use some mean artifice that may stain his honour.
If he would be honourable, he must often be prodigal of
his riches, and abstain from some sordid pleasures. If he
would have the full enjoyment of sensual pleasures, he
must often squander away his riches, and injure his honour
to procure them. The lusts of men as well as their ob-
jects, are also various and contradictory. Covetousness
and sensuality, pride and tranquility, envy and the love of
ease, and a thousand jarring passions, maintain a constant
fight in the sinner's breast. The means for gratifying these
lusts are likewise contrary; sometimes truth, sometimes
falsehood, sometimes indolence, sometimes action and labour
are necessary. In these things there is no unity of design,
nor consistency of means; but the sinner is properly dis-
tracted, drawn this way and that, tossed from wave to
wave ; and there is no steadiness or uniformity in his pur-
suits. But the work of salvation is one, the means and
the end correspond, and the means are consistent one with
another; and therefore the whole, though consisting of
many parts, may be said to be one.

It may also be called the one thing needful, to intimate
that this is needful above all other things. It is a common
form of speech to say of that which is necessary above all
other things, that it is the one or only thing necessary: so
we may understand this passage. There are what we call
the real necessaries of life; such as food and raiment;
there are also necessary callings and necessary labours.
All these are necessary in a lower sense ; necessary in their
proper place. But in comparison of the great work of our
salvation, they are all unnecessary ; if we be but saved,

558 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

we may do very well without them all. This is so neces-
sary, that nothing else deserves to be called necessary in
comparison of it.

This shows you also, not only why this is called one thing,
but why or in what sense it is said to be necessary. It is
of absolute and incomparable necessity. There is no ab-
solute necessity to our happiness that we should be rich
or honourable ; nay, there is no absolute necessity to our
happiness that we should live in this world at all, for we
may live infinitely more happy in another. And if life
itself be not absolutely necessary, then much less are food,
or raiment, or health, or any of those things which in a
lower sense we call the necessaries of life. In comparison
of this, they are all needless. I add farther, this one thing
may be said to be necessary, because it is necessary always,
or for ever. The necessaries of this life we cannot want
long, for we must soon remove into a world where there
is no room for them ; but holiness and salvation we shall
find needful always : needful under the calamities of
life; needful in the agonies of death; needful in the
world of spirits ; needful millions of ages hence ; needful
to all eternity ; and without it we are eternally undone.
This is a necessity indeed ! a necessity, in comparison of
which all other necessaries are but superfluities.

I hope by this short explication I have cleared the way
through your understandings to your hearts, and to your
hearts I would now address myself. However solemnly
I may speak upon this interesting subject, you will have
more reason to blame me for the deficiency, than for the
excess of my zeal and solemnity. I hope I have entered
this sacred place to-day with a sincere desire to do some
service to your immortal souls before I leave it. And
may I not hope you have come here with a desire to re-
ceive some advantage ? If not, you may number this seem-

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 559

ing act of religion among the sins of your life ; you have
come here to-day to sin away these sacred hours in hypo-
crisy and a profane mockery of the great God. But if
you are willing to receive any benefit, hear attentively :
hear, that your souls may live.

My first request to you is,* that you would make this
passage the test of your characters, and seriously inquire
whether you have lived in the world as those that really
and practically believe that this is the one thing of abso-
lute necessity. Are not all the joys of heaven and your
immortal souls worth the little pains of seriously putting
this short question to your consciences ? Review your life,
look into your hearts, and inquire, has this one thing lain
more upon your hearts than all other things together?
Has this been, above all other things, the object of your
most vehement desires, your most earnest endeavours, and
eager pursuit? I do not ask whether you have heard or
read that this one thing is necessary, or whether you have
sometimes talked about it. I do not ask whether you have
paid to God the compliment of appearing in his house
once a week, or of performing him a little lip-service morn-
ing and evening in your families, or in your closets, after
you have served yourselves and the world all the rest of
your time, without one affectionate thought of God. Nor
do I inquire whether in a pang of horror after the com-
mission -of some gross sin, you have tried to make your
conscience easy by a few prayers and tears, of which you
form an opiate to cast you again into a dead sleep in sin ;
I do not ask whether you have performed many actions
that are materially good, and abstained from many sins.

* Many of the following sentiments, as to the substance of them, are bor-
rowed from Mr. Baxter's excellent discourse, entitled A SAINT OR A BRUTE;
and I know no better pattern for a minister to follow in his address to shi-
ners, than that flaming and successful preacher.

560 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

All this you may have done, and yet have neglected the
one thing needful all your lives.

But I ask you, whether this one thing needful has been
habitually uppermost in your hearts, the favourite object
of your desires, the prize of your most vigorous endeav-
ours, the supreme happiness of your souls, and the princi-
pal object of your concern above all things in the world ?
Sirs, you may now hear this question with stupid uncon-
cern and indifferency ; but I must tell you, you will find,
another day, how much depends upon it. In that day it
will be found, that the main difference between true
Christians and the various classes of sinners is this ; — God,
Christ, holiness, and the concerns of eternity, are habitu-
ally uppermost in the hearts of the former; but, to the
latter, they are generally but things by the by ; and the
world engrosses the vigour of their souls, and is the prin-
cipal concern of their lives. To serve God, to obtain his
favour, and to be happy for ever in his love, is the main
business of the saint, to which all the concerns of the
world and the flesh must give way; but to live in ease, in
reputation, in pleasure, or riches, or to gratify himself in
the pursuit and enjoyment of some created good, this is
the main concern of the sinner. The one has made a
hearty resignation of himself, and all that he is and has,
to God, through Jesus Christ; he serves him with the
best, and thinks nothing too good for him. But the other
has his exceptions and reserves; he will serve God wil-
lingly, provided it may consist with his ease, and pleasure,
and temporal interest; he will serve God with a bended
knee, and the external forms of devotion; but, with the
vigour of his spirit, he serves the world and his flesh.
This is the grand difference between a true Christian and
the various forms of half-Christians and hypocrites. And
certainly this is a difference that may be discerned. The

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 561

tenor of a man's practice, and the object of his love, es-
pecially of his highest love .and practical esteem, must
certainly be very distinguishable from a thing by the by,
and from the object of a languid passion, or mere specula-
tion. Therefore, if you make but an impartial trial, you
have reason to hope you will make a just discovery of
your true character ; or if you cannot make the discovery
yourselves, call in the assistance of others. Ask not your
worldly and sensual neighbours, for they are but poor
judges, and they will flatter you in self-defence ; but ask
your pious friends whether you have spoke and acted like
persons that practically made this the one thing needful.
They can tell you what subject you talked most seriously
about, what pursuit seemed to lie most upon your hearts,
and chiefly to exhaust your activity. Brethren, I beseech
you, by one means or other, to bring this matter to an
issue, and let it hang in suspense no longer. Why are
you so indifferent how this matter stands with you ? Is it
because you imagine you may be true Christians, and
obtain salvation, however this matter be with you ? But
be not deceived : no man can serve two masters, whose
commands are contrary; and ye cannot serve God and
mammon, with a service equally devoted to both. If any
man love the world, with supreme affection, the love of the
Father is not in him. 1 John ii. 15. Be not deceived ;
God is not mocked : whatsoever a man soweth, that shall
he also reap ; he that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh
reap corruption : a miserable harvest indeed ; but he that
soweth to the spirit, shall of the spirit reap everlasting
life. Gal. vi. 7, 8. Therefore you may be sure that if
you live after the flesh, you shall die ; and that you can
never enjoy the one thing needful unless you mind and
pursue it above all other things.

But I shall not urge you any farther to try yourselves

VOL. L— 71

562 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

by this test. I take it for granted the consciences of some
of you have determined the matter, and that you are
plainly convicted of having hitherto neglected the one
thing needful. Allow me then honestly to expose your
conduct in its proper colours, and tell you what you have
been doing while you were busy about other things, and
neglecting this one thing needful.

1. However well you have improved your time for
other purposes, you have lost it all, unless you have im-
proved it in securing the one thing needful. The proper
notion of time is, that it is a space for repentance. Time
is given us to prepare for eternity. If this is done, we
have lived long enough, and the great end of time and life
is answered, whatever else be undone. But if this be
undone, you have lived in vain, and all your time is lost,
however busily and successfully you have pursued other
things. Though you have studied yourselves pale to fur-
nish your minds with knowledge ; though you have spent
the night and the day in heaping up riches, or climbing up
to the pinacle of honour, and not lost an hour that might
be turned to your advantage, yet you have been most
wretchedly fooling away your time, and lost it all, if you
have not laid it out in securing the one thing needful.
And, believe me, time is a precious thing. So it will ap-
pear in a dying hour, or in the eternal world, to the
greatest spendthrift among you. Then, oh for a year, or
even a week, or a day, to secure that one thing which you
are now neglecting ! And will you now waste your time,
while you enjoy it ? Shall so precious a blessing be lost ?
By this calculation, how many days, how many years, have
you lost for ever! For, is not that lost which is spent in
crossing the end for which it was given you ? Time was
given you to secure an eternity of happiness, but you have
spent it in adding sin to sin, and consequently in treasuring

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 563

up wrath against the day of wrath. And is not your time
then a thousand times worse than lost ? Let me tell you,
if you continue in this course to the end, you will wish
a thousand times, either that you had never had one
hour's time given you, or that you had made a better use
of it.

2. Whatever else you have been doing, you have lost
your labour with your time, if you have not laboured
above all things for this one thing needful. No doubt you
have been busy about something all your life ; but you
might as well have been idle; you have been busy in
doing nothing. You have perhaps toiled through many
anxious and laborious days, and your nights have shared
in the anxieties and labours of your days. But if you
have not laboured for the one thing necessary, all your
labour and all the fruits of it are lost. Indeed God may
have made use of you for the good of his church, or of
your country, as we make use of thorns and briers to stop
a breach, or of useless wood for firing to warm our families ;
but as to any lasting and solid advantage to yourselves, all
your labour has been lost.

But this is not all. Not only your secular labour is
lost, but all your toil and pains, if you have used any in
the duties of religion, they are lost likewise. Your read-
ing, hearing, praying, and communicating; all your serious
thoughts of death and eternity, all your struggles with
particular lusts and temptations, all the kind offices you
have done to mankind, all are lost, since you have per-
formed them by halves with a lukewarm heart, and have
not made the one thing needful your great business and
pursuit. All these things will not save you; and what is
that religion good for which will not save your souls?
What do those religious endeavours avail which will suffer
you to fall into hell after all ? Certainly such religion is vain.

564 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

And now, my hearers, do you believe this, or do you
not? If you do, will you, dare you still go on in the
same course ? If you do not believe it, let me reason the
matter with you a little. You will not believe that all
the labour and pains you have taken all your life have
been quite lost: no, you now enjoy the fruits of them.
But show me now, if you can, what you have gotten by
all that stir you have made, that will follow one step be-
yond the grave, or that you can call your own to-morrow.
Where is that sure immortal acquisition that you can carry
with you into the eternal world? Were you to die this
hour, would it afford you any pleasuse to reflect that you
have lived a merry life, and had a satiety of sensual plea-
sures, or that you have laboured for riches and honours,
and perhaps acquired them? Will this reflection afford
you pleasure or pain? Will this abate the agony of
eternal pain, or make up for the loss of heaven, which you
wilfully incurred by an over-eager pursuit of these perish-
ing vanities?

Do you not see the extravagant folly, the distracted
frenzy of such a conduct ? Alas ! while you are neglect-
ing the one thing needful, what are you doing but spend-
ing your time and labour in laborious idleness, honourably
debasing yourselves, delightfully tormenting yourselves,
wisely befooling yourselves, and frugally impoverishing
and ruining yourselves for ever? A child or an idiot
riding upon a staff, building their mimic houses, or playing
with a feather, are not so foolish as you in your conduct,
while you are so seriously pursuing the affairs of time, and
neglecting those of eternity. But,

3. This is not all : all your labour and pains have not
only been lost while you have neglected this one thing, but
you have taken pains to ruin yourselves, and laboured hard
all your lives for your own destruction. To this you will

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 565

immediately answer, " God forbid that we should do any
thing to hurt ourselves ; we were far from having any such
design." But the question is not, what was your design?
but, what is the unavoidable consequence of your conduct,
according to the nature of things, and the unchangeable
constitution of heaven? Whatever your design in going
on in sin, the wages of sin is death, eternal death. You
may indulge the carnal mind, and walk after the flesh, and
yet hope no bad consequence will follow : but God has
told you that to be carnally minded is death, and that if
you live after the flesh you shall die. The robber on the
highway has no design to be hanged ; but this does not ren-
der him a jot safer. Therefore, design what you will, it is
certain you are positively destroying yourselves while your
labours about other things hinder you from pursuing the
one thing needful. And does not this thought shock you,
that you should be acting the part of enemies against your-
selves, the most pernicious and deadly enemies to your-
selves in the whole universe? No enemy in the whole
universe could do you that injury without your consent
which you a"re doing to yourselves. To tempt you to sin
is all the devil can do ; but the temptation alone can do
you no injury; it is consenting to it that ruins you;
and this consent is your own voluntary act. All the de-
vils in hell could not force you to sin without your con-
sent, and therefore all the devils in hell do not injure you
as you do yourselves. God has not given them so much
power over you as he has given you over yourselves ; and
this power you abuse to your own destruction.

Oh ! in what a distracted state is the world of the un-
godly ! If any other man be their enemy, how do the}
resent it ! But they are their own worst enemies, and yet
never fall out with themselves. If another occasion them
a disappointment in their pursuits, defraud them of an ex-

566 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

pected good, or lay schemes to make them miserable, what
sullen grudge, what keen revenge, what flaming resent-
ments immediately rise in their breasts against him ! And
yet they are all their lives disinheriting themselves of the
heavenly inheritance, laying a train to blow up all their
own hopes, and heaping a mountain of guilt upon them-
selves to sink them into the bottomless pit : and all this
while they think they are the best friends to themselves,
and consulting their own interest. As for the devil, the
common enemy of mankind, they abhor him, and bless
themselves from him; but they are worse to themselves
than devils, and yet never fall out with themselves for it.

This, sinners, may seem a harsh representation of your
conduct, but, alas ! it is true. And if it be so shocking to
you to hear it, what must it be to be guilty of it ! And
oh ! think what must be the consequences of such a con-
duct, such unnatural suicide !

4. If you have hitherto neglected the one thing need-
ful, you have unmanned yourselves, acted beneath and con-
trary to your own reason, and in plain terms behaved as
if you had been out of your senses. If you have the use
of your reason, it must certainly tell you for what it was
given to you. And I beseech you to tell me what was it
given you for but to serve the God that made you, to
secure his favour, to prepare for your eternal state, and to
enjoy the supreme good as your portion? Can you once
think your reason, that divina particula aura, was given
you for such low purposes as the contrivances, labour, and
pursuits of this vain life, and to make you a more inge-
nious sort of brutes ? He was master of an unusual share
of reason who said, " There is very little difference be-
tween having reason and having none, if we had nothing
to do with it but cunningly to lay up for our food, and
make provision for this corruptible flesh, and had not an-

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 567

other life to mind." Therefore I may safely affirm that
you have cast away your reason, and acted as if you were
out of your wits, if you have not employed your rational
powers in the pursuit of the one thing needful. Where
was your reason when your dying flesh was preferred to
your immortal spirits ? Was reason your guide when you
chose the trash of this perishing world, and sought it more
than the favour of God and all the joys of heaven 1 Can
you pretend to common sense, when you might have had
the pardon of sin, sanctifying grace, and a title to heaven,
secured to you ere now ? But you have neglected all, and
instead of having a sure title to heaven, or being prepared
for it, you are fitted for destruction, and nothing else ; and
are only awaiting for a fever or a flux, or some other exe-
cutioner of divine vengeance, to cut the thread of life, and
let you sink to hell by your own weight. Thither you
gravitate under the load of sin as naturally as a stone to
the centre ; and you need no other weight to sink you
down. What have you done all your life to make a wise
man think you truly reasonable? Is that your reason, to
be wise to do evil, while to do good you have no know-
ledge ; or to be ingenious and active about the trifles of
time, while you neglect that great work for which you
were created and redeemed? Can you be wise and yet
not consider your latter end ? Nay, can you pretend to so
much as common sense, while you sell your eternal salva-
tion for the sordid pleasures of a few flying years? Have
you common sense, when you will not keep yourselves out
of everlasting fire? What can a madman do worse than
wilfully destroy himself? And this you are doing every day.
And yet these very persons are proud of their madness,
and are apt to fling the charge of folly upon others, espe-
cially if they observe some poor weak creatures, though
it be but one in five hundred, fall into melancholy, or lose

568 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

their reason for a time, while they are groaning under a
sense of sin, and anxious about their eternal state ; then
what a clamour against religion and preciseness, as the
ready way to make people run mad ! then they even dare
to publish their resolution that they will not read and pore
so much upon these things, lest it should drive them out
of their senses. O miserable mortals ! is it possible they
should be more dangerously mad than they are already?
Do you lay out your reason, your strength, and time in
pursuing vain shadows, and in feeding a mortal body for
the grave, while the important realities of the eternal
world, and the salvation of your immortal souls are forgot-
ten or neglected ? Do you sell your Saviour with Judas
for a little money, and change your part in God and hea-
ven for the sordid pleasures of sin, which are but for a
season? and are you afraid of seriously reflecting upon
this course, that you may reform it, for fear such thoughts
should make you mad? What greater madness than this
can you fear ? Will you run from God, from Christ, from
mercy, from the saints, from heaven itself, for fear of being
mad ? Alas ! you are mad in the worst sense already.
Will you run to hell to prove yourselves in your senses?
He was a wise and good man who said, " Though the loss
of a man's understanding is a grievous affliction, and such
as I hope God will never lay upon me, yet I had a thousand
times rather go distracted to Bedlam with the excessive
care about my salvation, than to be one of you that cast
away the care of your salvation for fear of being dis-
tracted, and will go among the infernal Bedlams into hell
for fear of being mad." Distraction in itself is not a moral
evil, but a physical, like those disorders of the body from
which it often proceeds, and therefore is no object for
punishment; and had you no capacity of understanding
you would have a cloak for your sin ; but your madness

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 569

is your crime, because it is voluntary, and therefore you
must give an account for it to the Supreme Judge.

It would be easy to offer many more considerations to
expose the absurdity and danger of your conduct in ne-
glecting the one thing necessary; but these must suffice
for the present hour. And I only desire you to consider
farther, if this be a just view of the conduct of such as are
guilty of this neglect, in what a miserable, pitiable condi-
tion is the world in general. I have so often tried the
utmost energy of my words upon you with so little suc-
cess as to many, that I am quite grown weary of them.
Allow me therefore for once to borrow the more striking
and pungent words of one now in heaven ; of one who had
more success than almost any of his contemporaries or
successors in the important work of " converting sinners
from the error of their way and saving souls from death :"
I mean that incomparable preacher, Mr. Baxter, who sowed
an immortal seed in his parish of Kidderminster, which
grows and brings forth fruit to this day. His words have,
through the divine blessing, been irresistible to thousands ;
and oh that such of you, my dear hearers, whose hearts
may have been proof against mine, may not be so against
his also !

" Look upon this text of Scripture," says he, " and look
also upon the course of the earth, and consider of the disa-
greement; and whether it be not still as before the flood,
that all the imaginations of man's heart are evil continually.
Gen. vi. 5. Were it possible for a man to see the affec-
tions and motions of all the world at once, as God seeth
them, what a pitiful sight it would be ! What a stir do
they make, alas, poor souls ! for they know not what !
while they forget, or slight, or hate the one thing needful.
What a heap of gadding ants should we see, that do noth-
ing but gather sticks and straws ! Look among persons of

VOL. I.— 72

670 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

every rank, in city and country, and look into families
about you, and see what trade it is they are most busily
driving on, whether it be for heaven or earth! And
whether you can discern by their care and labours that
they understand what is the one thing necessary ! They
are as busy as bees ; but not for honey, but in spinning
such a spider's web as the besom of death will presently
sweep down. Job viii. 14. They labour hard, but for
what 1 For the food that perisheth, but not for that which
endureth to everlasting life. John vi. 27. They are dili-
gent seekers; but for what? Not first for God, his king-
dom and righteousness, but for that which they might have
had as an addition to their blessedness. Matt. vi. 33.
They are still doing ; what are they doing 1 Even un-
doing themselves by running away from God, to hunt after
the perishing pleasures of the world. Instead of provid-
ing for the life to come, they are making provision for the
flesh to fulfil its lusts. Rom. xiii. 14. Some of them hear
the word of God, but presently choke it by the deceitful-
ness of riches, and the cares of this life. Luke viii. 14.
They are careful and troubled about many things ; but the
one thing that should be all to them is cast by as if it were
nothing. Providing for the flesh and minding the world

o o o

is the employment of their lives. They labour with a
canine appetite for their trash ; but to holiness they have
no appetite, and are worse than indifferent to the things
that are indeed desirable. They have no covetousness for
the things which they are commanded earnestly to covet.
1 Cor. xii. 31. They have so little hunger and thirst
after righteousness, that a very little or none will satisfy
them. Here they are pleading always for moderation, and
against too much, and too earnest, and too long ; and all
is too much with them that is above stark naught, or dead
hypocrisy ; and all is too earnest and too long that would

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 571

make religion seem a business, or engage them to seem
serious in their own profession, or put them past jest in the
worship of God and the matters of their salvation. Let
but their children or servants neglect their worldly busi-
ness, (which I confess they should not do,) and they shall
hear of it with both their ears ; but if they sin against God,
or neglect his word or worship, they shall meet with more
patience than Eli's son did : a cold reproof is usually the
most ; and it is well if they be not encouraged in their sin ;
it is well if a child or servant that begins to be serious for
salvation be not rebuked, derided, and hindered by them.
If on their days of labour they oversleep themselves, they
shall be sure to be called up to work, (and good reason,)
but when do they call them up to prayer ? when do they
urge them to consider or converse upon the things that
concern their everlasting life? The Lord's own day,
which is appointed to be set apart for matters of this
nature, is wasted in idleness or worldly talk. Come at
any time into their company, and you may talk enough,
and too much of news, or other men's matters, of their
worldly business, sports, and pleasures, but about God and
their salvation they have so little to say, and that so heart-
lessly, and by-the-by, as if they were things that belonged
not to their care and duty, and no whit concerned them.
Talk with them about the renovation of the soul, the
nature of holiness, and the life to come, and you will find
them almost as dumb as a fish. The most understand not
matters of this nature, nor much desire or care to under-
stand them. If one would teach them personally, they
are too old to be catechized or to learn, though not too old
to be ignorant of the matters they were made for and pre-
served for in the world. They are too wise to learn to
be wise, and too good to be taught how to be good,
though not too wise to follow the seducements of the devil

572 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

and the world, nor too good to be the slaves of Satan and
the despisers and enemies of goodness. If they do any-
thing which they call serving God, it is some cold and
heartless use of words to make themselves believe that for
all their sins they shall be saved ; so that God will call
that a serving their sins and abominations, which they will
call a serving of God. Some of them will confess that
holiness is good, but they hope God will be merciful to
them without it; and some do so hate it, that it is a dis-
pleasing irksome thing to them to hear any serious dis-
course of holiness ; and they detest and deride those as
fanatical, troublesome precisians that diligently seek the
one thing necessary : so that if the belief of the most may
be judged by their practices, we may confidently say, that
they do not practically believe that ever they should be
brought to judgment, or that there is any heaven or hell
to be expected : and that their confession of the truth of
the Scriptures and the articles of the Christian faith are no
proofs that they heartily take them to be true. Who can
be such a stranger to the world as not to see that this is
the case of the greatest part of men ? And, which is
worst of all, they go on in this course against all that can
be said to them, and will give no impartial, considerate
hearing to the truth, which would recover them to their
wits, but live as if it would be a felicity to them in hell to
think that they came thither by wilful, resolution, and in
despite of the remedy."

This, sinners, is a true representation of your case,
drawn by one that well knew it and lamented it. And
what do you now think of it yourselves ? What do you
think will be the consequence of such a course ? Is it
safe to persist in it? or shall I be so happy as to bring
you to a stand ? Will you still go on, troubling yourselves
wifti many things ? or will you resolve for the future to

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 573

mind the one thing needful above all ? I beseech you to
come to some resolution. Time is on the wing, and does
not allow you to hesitate in so plain and important an
affair. Do you need any farther excitements 1 Then I
shall try the force of one consideration more contained in
my text, and that is necessity.

Remember necessity, the most pressing, absolute neces-
sity, enforces this care upon you. One thing is needful,
absolutely needful, and needful above all other things.
This, one would think, is such an argument as cannot but
prevail. What exploits has necessity performed in the
world ! What arts has it discovered as the mother of in-
vention ! what labours, what fatigues, what sufferings has
it undergone ! What dangers has it encountered ! What
difficulties has it overcome ! Necessity is a plea which
you think will warrant you to do anything and excuse
anything. Reasoning against necessity is but reasoning
against a hurricane ; it bears all before it. To obtain the
necessaries of life, as they are called, how much will men
do and suffer ! Nay, with what hardships and perils will
they not conflict for things that they imagine necessary,
not to their life but to their ease, their honour, or plea-
sure ! But what is this necessity when compared to that
which I am now urging upon you? In comparison of
this, the most necessary of those things are but superflui-
ties ; for if your ease, or honour, or pleasure, or even your
life in this world be not absolutely necessary, as they can-
not be to the heirs of immortality, then certainly those
things which you imagine necessary to your ease, your
honour, your pleasure, or mortal life, are still less neces-
sary. But oh ! to escape everlasting misery, and to secure
everlasting salvation, this is the grand necessity ! This will
appear necessary in every point of your immortal duration ;
necessary when you have done with this world for ever, and

574 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

must leave all its cares, enjoyments, and pursuits behind you.
And shall not this grand necessity prevail upon you to work
out your salvation, and make that your great business, when
a far less necessity, a necessity that will last but a few years
at most, set you and the world around you upon such hard
labours and eager pursuits for perishing vanities ? All the
necessity in the world is nothing in comparison of that
which lies upon you to work out your salvation ; and shall
this have no weight ? If you do not labour or contrive
for the bread that perisheth, you must beg or starve ; but
if you will not labour for the bread that endureth unto
everlasting life, you must burn in hell for ever. You must
lie in prison if your debts with men be not paid ; but, oh !
what is it to the prison of hell, where you must be con-
fined for ever if your debts to the justice of God be not
remitted, and you do not obtain an interest in the righte-
ousness of Christ, which alone can make satisfaction for
them ! You must suffer hunger and nakedness unless you
take care to provide food and raiment; but you must
suffer eternal banishment from God and all the joys of his
presence, if you do not labour to secure the one thing
needful. Without the riches of this world you may be
rich in faith, and heirs of the heavenly inheritance. With-
out earthly pleasures you may have joy unspeakable and
full of glory in the love of God, and the expectation of
the kingdom reserved in heaven for you. Without health
of body you may have happiness of spirit ; and even with-
out this mortal life you may enjoy eternal life. Without
the things of the world you may live in want for a little
while, but then you will soon be upon an equality with
the greatest princes. But without this one thing needful
you are undone, absolutely undone. Though you were
as rich as Croasus, you "are wretched, and miserable, and
poor, and blind, and naked." Your very being becomes a

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 575

curse to you. It is your curse that you are a man, a
reasonable creature. It had been infinitely better for you
if you had been a toad or a snake, and so incapable of sin
and of immortality, and consequently of punishment. Oh
then let this grand necessity prevail with you !

I know you have other wants, which you should moder-
ately labour to provide for, but oh how small and of how
short continuance ! If life and all should be lost, you may
more than find all in heaven. But if you miss at this one
thing, all the world cannot make up the loss.

Therefore to conclude with the awakening and resist-
less words of the author I before quoted, "Awake, you
sluggish, careless souls ! your house over your head is in
a flame ! the hand of God is lifted up ! If you love your-
selves, prevent the stroke. Vengeance is at your backs,
the wrath of God pursues your sin, and wo to you if he
finds it upon you when he overtaketh you. Away with
it speedily! up and begone; return to God; make Christ
and mercy your friends in time, if you love your lives!
the Judge is coming! for all that you have heard of it so
long, yet still you believe it not. You shall shortly see
the majesty of his appearance and the dreadful glory of his
face; and yet do you not begin to look about you, and
make ready for such a day ? Yea, before that day, your
separated souls shall begin to reap as you have sowed here.
Though now the partition that stands between you and
the world to come do keep unbelievers strangers to the
things that most concern them, yet death will quickly find
a portal to let you in ; and then, sinners, you will find such
doings there as you little thought of, or did not sensibly
regard upon earth. Before your friends will have time
enough to wrap up your pale corpse in your winding-
sheet, you will see and feel that which will tell you to the
quick, that one thing was necessary. If you die without

576 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

this one thing necessary, before your friends can have
finished your funerals, your souls will have taken up their
places among devils in endless torments and despair, and
all the wealth, and honour, and pleasure that the world
afforded you will not ease you. This is sad, but it is true,
sirs; for God hath spoken it. Up, therefore, and bestir
you for the life of your souls. Necessity will awake even
the sluggard. Necessity, we say, will break through stone
walls. The proudest will stoop to necessity: the most
slothful will bestir themselves in necessity : the most care-
less will be industrious in necessity: necessity will make
men do anything that is possible to be done. And is not
necessity, the highest necessity, your own necessity, able
to make you cast away your sins, and take up a holy and
heavenly life ] O poor souls ! is there a greater neces-
sity for your sin than of your salvation, and of pleasing
your flesh for a little time than of pleasing the Lord and
escaping everlasting misery? Oh that you would con-
sider what I say ! and the Lord give you understanding in
all things. Amen.

SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY. 577

SERMON XXII.

SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND THE CERTAIN PER-
DITION OF SINNERS.

1 PET. iv. 18. — And if the righteous scarcely be saved,
where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear.

THIS text may sound in your ears like a message from
the dead; for it is at the request of our deceased friend*
that I now insist upon it. He knew so much from the
trials he made in life, that if he should be saved at all, it
would be with great difficulty, and if he should escape
destruction at all, it would be a very narrow escape; and
he also knew so much of this stupid, careless world, that
they stood in need of a solemn warning on this head ; and
therefore desired that his death should give occasion to a
sermon on this alarming subject. But now the unknown
wonders of the invisible world lie open to his eyes ; and
now also he can take a full review of his passage through
this mortal life; now he sees the many unsuspected
dangers he narrowly escaped, and the many fiery darts of
the devil which the shield of faith repelled ; now, like a
ship arrived in port, he reviews the rocks and shoals he
passed through, many of which lay under water and out
of sight; and therefore now he is more fully acquainted
with the difficulty of salvation than ever. And should he
now rise and make his appearance in this assembly in the

* The person was Mr. James Hooper ; and the sermon is dated August
21, 1756.

VOL. I.— 78

578 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

solemn and dread attire of an inhabitant of the world of
spirits, and again direct me to a more • proper subject,
methinks he would still stand to his choice, and propose
it to your serious thoughts, that " if the righteous scarcely
be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner ap-
pear?"

The apostle's principal design in the context seems to
be to prepare the Christians for those sufferings which he
saw coming upon them, on account of their religion.
" Beloved," says he, " think it not strange concerning the
fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange
thing happened unto you:" verse 12, "but rejoice inas-
much as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings :" it is no
strange thing that you should suffer on account of your
religion in such a wicked world as this, for Christ the
founder of your religion met with the same treatment;
and it is enough that the servant be as his master, ver. 13,
only he advises them, that if they must suffer, that they
did not suffer as malefactors, but only for the name of
Christ, ver. 14, 15. "Yet," says he, "if any man suffer
as a Christian, let him not be ashamed;" ver. 16, "for the
time is come that judgment must begin at the house of
God." He seems to have a particular view to the cruel
persecutions that a little after this was raised against the
Christians by the tyrant Nero, and more directly to that
which was raised against them everywhere by the sedi-
tious Jews, who were the most inveterate enemies of
Christianity. The dreadful destruction of Jerusalem,
which was plainly foretold by Christ in the hearing of St.
Peter was now at hand. And from the sufferings which
Christians, the favourites of heaven, endured, he infers
how much more dreadful the vengeance would be which
should fall upon their enemies, the infidel Jews. If judg-
ment begin at the house of God, his church, what shall

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 579

be the doom of the camp of rebels? If it begin at us
Christians who obey the gospel, what shall be the end of
them that obey it not ? Alas ! what shall become of
them ? Them that obey not the gospel of God, is a de-
scription of the unbelieving Jews, to whom it was pecu-
liarly applicable; and the apostle may have a primary
reference to the dreadful destruction of their city and
nation which was much more severe than all the sufferings
the persecuted Christians had then endured. But I see
no reason for confining the apostle's view entirely to this
temporal destruction of the Jews; he seems to refer
farther to that still more terrible destruction that awaits all
that obey not the gospel in the eternal world : that is to
say, if the children are so severely chastised in this world,
what shall become of rebels in the world to come, the
proper state of retribution ? How much more tremendous
must be their fate !

In the text he carries on the same reflection. If the
righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and
the sinner appear? The righteous is the common cha-
racter of all good men or true Christians; and the un-
godly and sinner are characters which may include the
wicked of all nations and ages. Now, says he, if the
righteous be but scarcely saved, saved with great dif-
ficulty, just saved, and no more, where shall idolaters
and vicious sinners appear, whose characters are so
opposite ?

The abrupt and pungent form of expression is very
emphatical. Where shall the ungodly and the sinner ap-
pear? I need not tell you, your own reason will inform
you : I appeal to yourselves for an answer, for you are all
capable of determining upon so plain a case. Where shall
the ungodly and the sinner appear ? Alas ! it strikes me
dumb with horror to think of it : it is so shocking and terri-

580 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

ble that I cannot bear to describe it. Now they are gay,
merry, and rich ; but when I look a little forward, I see
them appear in very different circumstances, and the hor-
ror of the prospect is hardly supportable.

St. Peter here supposes that there is something in the
condition and character of a righteous man that renders his
salvation comparatively easy ; something from whence we
might expect that he will certainly be saved, and that with-
out much difficulty : and on the other hand, that there is
something in the opposite character and condition of the
ungodly and the sinner, that gives us reason to conclude
that there is no probability at all of their salvation while
they continue as such. But he asserts that even the right-
eous, whose salvation seems so likely and comparatively
easy, is not saved without great difficulty; he is just saved,
and that is all : what then shall we conclude of the ungodly
and the sinner, whose character gives no ground for favour-
able expectations at all 1 If our hopes are but just accom-
plished, with regard to the most promising, what shall
become of those whose case is evidently hopeless ? Alas !
where shall they appear ?

The method in which I intend to prosecute our subject
is this :

I. I shall point out the principal difficulties, which even
the righteous .meet with in the way to salvation.

II. I shall mention those things in the condition and
character of the righteous, which render his salvation so
promising and seemingly easy, and then show you that, if
with all these favourable and hopeful circumstances he is
not saved but with great difficulty and danger, those who
are of an opposite character, and whose condition is so
evidently and apparently desperate, cannot be saved at all.

I. I am to point out the principal difficulties which even
the righteous meet with in the way to salvation*

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 581

Here I would premise, that such who have become truly
religious, and persevered in the way of holiness and virtue
to the last, will meet with no difficulty at all to be admit-
ted into the kingdom of heaven. The difficulty does not
lie here, for the same apostle Peter assures us, that if we
give all diligence to make our calling and election sure, we
shall never fall; but so an entrance shall be ministered
unto us abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 2 Peter i. 10, 11. But
the difficulty lies in this, that, all things considered, it is a
very difficult thing to obtain, and persevere in real religion
in the present corrupt state of things, where we meet with
so many temptations and such powerful opposition. Or in
other words, it is difficult in such a world as this to pre-
pare for salvation ; and this renders it difficult to be saved,
because we cannot be saved without preparation.

It must also be observed, that a religious life is attended
with the most pure and solid pleasures even in this world ;
and they who choose it act the wisest part with respect to
the present state : they are really the happiest people upon
our globe. Yet, were it otherwise, the blessed conse-
quences of a religious life in the eternal world would make
amends for all, and recommend such a course, notwith-
standing the greatest difficulties and the severest sufferings
that might attend it.

But notwithstanding this concession, the Christian course
is full of hardships, oppositions, trials, and discouragements.
This we may learn from the metaphorical representations
of it in the sacred writings, which strongly imply that it is
attended with difficulties which require the utmost exer-
tion of all our powers to surmount. It is called a warfare,
1 Tim i. 18; fighting, 2 Tim. iv. 7. The graces of the
Christian, and the means of begetting and cherishing them,
are called weapons of war : there is the shield of faith :

582 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

the hope of salvation, which is the helmet ; the sword of
the Spirit, which is the word of God, 2 Cor. x. 4 ; Eph. vi.
13, 17. The end of the Christian's course is victory after
conflict, Rev. ii. 7. And Christians are soldiers ; and such
as must endure hardships, 2 Tim. ii. 3. Now a military
life, you know, is a scene of labour, hardships and dangers ;
and therefore so^ is the Christian life, which is compared
to it in these respects, it is compared to a race, Heb.
xii. 1, 2, to wrestling and the other vigorous exercises
of the Olympic games, Eph. vi. 12; Luke xiii. 24, to
walking in a narrow way, Matt. vii. 14, and entering at
the strait gate, Luke xiii. 24. This, my brethren, and
this only, is the way to salvation. And is this the way in
which you are walking ? Or is it the smooth, easy down-
ward road to destruction ? You may slide along that with-
out exertion or difficulty, like a dead fish swimming with the
stream ; but oh ! look before you, and see whither it leads !

The enemies that oppose our religious progress are the
devil, the world, and the flesh. These form a powerful
alliance against our salvation, and leave no artifice untried
to obstruct it.

The things of the world, though good in themselves, are
temptations to such depraved hearts as ours. Riches,
honours, pleasure, spread their charms, and tempt us to
the pursuit of flying shadows to the neglect of the one thing
needful. These engross the thoughts and concerns, the
affections and labours of multitudes. They engage with
such eagerness in an excessive hurry of business and anx-
ious care, or so debauch and stupefy themselves with sen-
sual pleasures, that the voice of God is not heard, the
clamors of conscience are drowned, the state of their souls
is not inquired into, the interests of eternity are forgotten,
the eternal God, the joys of heaven, and the pains of hell,
are cast put of the mind, and disregarded ; and they care

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 583

not for any or all of these important realities, if they can
but gratify the lust of avarice, ambition, and sensuality.
And are such likely to perform the arduous work of sal-
vation ? No ; they do not so much as seriously attempt
it. Now these things which are fatal to multitudes throw
great difficulties in the way even of the righteous man.
He finds it hard to keep his mind intent npon his great
concern in the midst of such labours and cares as he is
obliged to engage in ; and frequently he feels his heart
estranged from God and ensnared into the ways of sin, his
devotion cooled, and his whole soul disordered by these
allurements. In short, he finds it one of the hardest things
in the world to maintain a heavenly mind in such an
earthly region, a spiritual temper, among so many carnal
objects.

The men of this world also increase his difficulties.
Their vain, trifling, or wicked conversation, their ensnar-
ing examples, their persuasions, false reasonings, reproaches,
menaces, and all their arts of flattery and terror, have
sometimes a very sensible effect upon him. These would
draw him into some guilty compliances, damp his courage,
and tempt him to apostatize, were he not always upon his
guard ; and sometimes in an inadvertent hour he feels their
fatal influence upon him. As for the generality, they yield
themselves up to these temptations, and make little or no
resistance ; and thus are carried down the stream into the
infernal pit. Alas ! how many ruin themselves through a
base, unmanly complaisance, and servile conformity to the
mode ! Believe it, sirs, to be fashionably religious and no
more, is to be really irreligious in the sight of God. The
way of the multitude may seem easy, pleasant, and sociable ;
but, alas, my brethren ! see where it ends ; it leadeth down
into destruction. Matt. vii. 14.

But in the next place, the greatest difficulty in our way

584 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

arises from the corruption and wickedness of our own
hearts. This is an enemy within; and it is this that
betrays us into the hands of our enemies without. When
we turn our eyes to this quarter, what vast difficulties rise
in our way ! difficulties which are impossible to us, unless
the almighty Power enables us to surmount them. Such
are a blind mind, ignorant of divine things, or that specu-
lates only upon them, but does not see their reality and
dread importance ; a mind empty of God and full of the
lumber and vanities of this world. Such are a hard heart,
insensible of sin, insensible of the glory of God, and the
beauties of holiness, and the infinite moment of eter-
nal things. Such are a heart disaffected to God and
his service, bent upon sin, and impatient of restraint.
Such are wild, unruly passions thrown into a fer-
ment by every trifle, raised by vanities, erroneous
in the choice of objects, irregular in their motions,
and extravagant in the degree of attachment. Such
difficulties are strong, ungovernable lusts and appetites
in animal nature, eager for gratification, and turbulent
under restraint. And how strangely does this inward
corruption indispose men for religion ! Hence their igno-
rance, their security, carelessness, presumptuous hopes,
and impenitence. Hence their unwillingness to admit
conviction, their resistance to the Holy Spirit, and their
contempt of the gospel, their disregard to all religious in-
structions, their neglect of the means of grace, and the
ordinances of Christ, or their careless, formal, lukewarm
attendance upon them. Hence their earthly-mindedness,
their sensuality, and excessive love of animal pleasures.
Hence it is so difficult to awaken them to a just sense of
their spiritual condition, and to suitable earnestness in their
religious endeavours ; and hence their fickleness and in-
constancy, their relapses and backslidings, when they have

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 585

been a little alarmed. Hence it is so difficult to bring
their religious impressions to a right issue, and to lead
them to Jesus Christ as the Saviour. In short, hence it is
that so many thousands perish amidst the means of salva-
tion. These difficulties prove eventually insuperable to
the generality: and they never surmount them. But even
the righteous, who is daily conquering them by the aid of
divine grace, and will at last be more than a conqueror, he
still finds many hinderances and discouragements from this
quarter. The remains of these innate corruptions still
cleave to him in the present state, and these render his
progress heavenward so slow and heavy. These render
his life a constant warfare, and he is obliged to fight his
way through. These frequently check the aspirations of
his soul to God, cool his devotion, damp his courage, en-
snare his thoughts and affections to things below, and ex-
pose him to the successful attacks of temptation. Alas !
it is his innate corruption that involves him in darkness
and jealousies, in tears and terrors, after hours of spiritual
light, joy, and confidence. It is this that banishes him
from the comfortable presence of his God, and causes him
to go mourning without the light of his countenance.
Were it not for this, he would glide along through life easy
and unmolested ; he would find the ways of religion to be
ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace. In short,
it is this that lies upon his heart as the heaviest burden,
and renders his course so rugged and dangerous. And
such of you as do not know this by experience, know
nothing at all of true experimental Christianity.

Finally, the devil and his angels are active, powerful,
and artful enemies to our salvation : their agency is often
unperceived, but it is insinuating, unsuspected, and there-
fore the more dangerous and successful. These malignant
spirits present ensnaring images to the imagination, and no

VOL. I.— 74

586 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

doubt blow the flame of passion and appetite. They
labour to banish serious thoughts from the mind, and en-
tertain it with trifles. They give force to the attacks of
temptations from the world, and raise and foment insurrec-
tions of sin within. And if they cannot hinder the right-
eous man from entering upon a religious course, or divert
him from it, they will at least render it as difficult, labori-
ous, and uncomfortable to him as possible.

See, my brethren, see the way in which you must walk
if you would enter into the kingdom of heaven. In this
rugged road they have all walked who are now safe,
arrived at their journey's end, the land of rest. They
were saved, but it was with great difficulty : they escaped
the fatal rocks and shoals, but it was a very narrow
escape; and methinks it is with a kind of pleasing horror
they now review the numerous dangers through which
they passed, many of which they did not perhaps suspect
till they were over.* And is this the way in which you
are walking ? Is your religion a course of watchfulness,
labour, conflict, and vigorous exertions ? Are you indeed
in earnest in it above all things in this world ? Or are
not many of you lukewarm Laodiceans and indifferent
Gallios about these things ? If your religion (if it may
be so called) is a course of security, carelessness, sloth,
and formality — alas ! if all the vigour and exertion of the
righteous man be but just sufficient for his salvation,
where, oh where shall you appear ? Which leads me,

* There on a green and flowery mount,

Their weary souls now sit ;
And with transporting joys recount

The labours of their feet.
Eternal glories to the King

That brought them safely through
Their lips shall nover cease to sing,
And endless praise renew.

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 587

II. To mention those things in the character and condi-
tion of the righteous, which render his salvation so pro-
mising and seemingly easy, and then show, that if with all
those hopeful circumstances he shall not be saved but with
great difficulty, that they, whose character is directly oppo-
site, and has nothing encouraging in it, cannot possibly be
saved at all. And this head I shall cast into such a form
as to exemplify the text.

1. If those that abstain from immorality and vice be
but scarcely saved, where shall the vicious, profligate sin-
ner appear?

It is the habitual character of a righteous man to be
temperate and sober, chaste, just, and charitable; to re-
vere the name of God, and everything sacred, and reli-
giously observe the holy hours devoted to the service of
God. This is always an essential part of his character,
though not the whole of it. Now such a man looks pro-
mising; he evidently appears so far prepared for the
heavenly state, because he is so far conformed to the law
of God, and free from those enormities which are never
found in the region of happiness. And if such shall
scarcely be saved, where shall those of the opposite cha-
racter appear ? Where shall the brute of a drunkard, the
audacious swearer, the scoffer at religion, the unclean,
lecherous wretch, the liar, the defrauder, the thief, the
extortioner, the Sabbath-breaker, the reveller, where shall
these appear? Are these likely to stand in the congrega-
tion of the righteous, or to appear in the presence of God
with joy ? Is there the least likelihood that such shall be
saved ? If you will regard the authority of an inspired
apostle in the case, I can direct you to those places where
you may find his express determination. 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10.
" Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the
kingdom of God ? Be not deceived ; neither fornicators,

588 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers
of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous,
nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit
the kingdom of God." So Gal. v. 19-21. "The works
of the flesh are manifest, which are these — adultery, forni-
cation, uncleanness, lasciviousness, hatred, variance, emu-
lations, wrath, strife, heresies, seditions, envyings, revel-
lings, and such like, of the which I tell you before ;" that
is, I honestly forewarn you, as I have also told you in time
past, that they who do such things shall not inherit the
kingdom of God. Rev. xxi. 8. " The fearful, (that is, the
cowardly in the cause of religion,) the unbelieving, and
the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and
all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth
with fire and brimstone." You see, my brethren, the
declarations of the Scripture are express enough and re-
peated on this point. And are there not some of you
here who indulge yourselves in one or other of these vices,
and yet hope to be saved in that course ? that is, you hope
your Bible and your religion too are false ; for it is only
on that supposition that your hope of salvation can be
accomplished. Alas ! will you venture your eternal all
upon the truth of such a blasphemous supposition as this?
But,

2. If those that conscientiously perform the duties of
religion be scarcely saved, where shall the neglecters of
them appear?

The righteous are characterized as persons that honestly
endeavour to perform all the duties they owe to God.
They devoutly read and hear his word, and make divine
things their study ; they are no strangers to the throne of
of grace ; they live a life of prayer in their retirements,
and in a social capacity. They make their families little
churches, in which divine worship is solemnly performed.

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 589

Let others do as they will ; as for them and their houses,
like Joshua, they will serve the Lord : Josh. xxiv. 15.
They gratefully commemorate the sufferings of Christ,
and give themselves up to him at his table ; and seriously
improve all the ordinances of the gospel. In short, like
Zacharias and Elizabeth, they walk in all the command-
ments and ordinances of God, blameless : Luke i. 6. This
is their prevailing and habitual character. And there is
something in this character that gives reason to presume
they will be saved ; for they have now a relish for the
service of God, in which the happiness of heaven consists ;
they are training up in the humble forms of devotion in
the church below, for the more exalted employments of
the church triumphant on high. Now if persons of this
character are but scarcely saved, where shall the ungodly
appear, who persist in the wilful neglect of these known
duties of religion ? Can they be saved who do not so
much as use the means of salvation 1 Can those who do
not study their Bible, the only directory to eternal life,
expect to find the way thither? Can prayerless souls re-
ceive answers to prayer? Will all the bliss of heaven be
thrown away upon such as do not think it worth their
while importunately to ask it? Are they likely to be ad-
mitted into the general assembly and church of the First-
born in heaven, who do not endeavour to make their
families little circles of religion here upon earth ? In a
word, are they likely to join for ever in the devotions of
the heavenly state, who do not accustom themselves to
these sacred exercises in this preparatory state ? Will you
venture your souls upon it that you shall be saved, not-
withstanding these improbabilities, or rather impossibilities ?
Alas! are there any of you that have no better hopes of
heaven than these? Where, then, will you appear?
3. If they that are more than externally moral and re-

590 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AXD

ligious in their conduct, that have been born again, created
in Christ Jesus to good works, as every man that is truly
righteous has been; if such, I say, be but scarcely saved,
where shall they appear who rest in their mere outward
.morality, their proud self-righteous virtue, and their re-
ligious formalities, and have never been made new creatures,
never had the inward principles of action changed by the
power of God, and the inbred disorders of the heart
rectified? Where shall they appear who have nothing
but a self-sprung religion, the genuine offspring of de-
generate nature, and never had a supernatural principle
of grace implanted in their souls? Has that solemn as-
severation of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, lost
all its force, and become falsehood in our age and country ?
"Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God:" John iii. 3.
Is there no weight in such apostolic declarations as these ?
" If any man be in Christ he is a new creature ; old things
are passed away; behold all things are become new. And
all things are of God:" 2 Cor. v. 17. "Neither circum-
cision availeth any thing nor uncircumcision :" Gal. vi.
15 : that is to say, a conformity to the rituals of the Jewish
or Christian religion availeth nothing, but the new creature.
Can men flatter themselves they shall be saved by the
Christian religion, in opposition to these plain, strong,
and repeated declarations of the Christian revelation ?
And yet, are there not many here who are entirely igno-
rant of this renovation of the temper of their mind, of this
inward, heaven-born religion ?

4. If they that are striving to enter in at the strait gate
and pressing into the kingdom of heaven, do but just ob-
tain admission ; if they who forget the things that are be-
hind, and reach after those that are before them, and press
with all their might towards the goal, do scarcely obtain

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 591

the prize, what shall become of those lukewarm, careless,
formal, presumptuous professors of Christianity who are
so numerous among us ? Where shall they appear who
have but a form of godliness without the power, 2 Tim.
iii. 5; and have no spiritual life in their religion, but only
a name to live? Rev. iii. 1. If those whose hearts are
habitually solicitous about their eternal state, who labour
in earnest for the immortal bread, who pray with unutter-
able groans, Rom. viii. 26 ; who, in short, make the care
of their souls the principal business of their life, and in
some measure proportion their industry and earnestness
to the importance and difficulty of the work; if such are
but scarcely saved, with all their labour and pains, where
shall they appear who are at ease in Zion, Amos vi. 1,
whose religion is but a mere indilFerency, a thing by-the-
by with them? If we cannot enter into the kingdom of
heaven unless our righteousness exceed that of the Scribes
and Pharisees, Matt. v. 20, where shall they appear whose
righteousness is far short of theirs? And are there not
many such in this assembly? Alas! my brethren, where
do you expect to appear ?

5. If they that have believed in Jesus Christ, which is
the grand condition of salvation, be but scarcely saved,
where shall the unbeliever appear ?

Faith in Christ is an essential ingredient in the character
of a righteous man ; and faith cannot be implanted in our
hearts till we have been made deeply sensible of our sins,
of our condemnation by the law of God, and our utter
inability to procure pardon and salvation by the merit of
our repentance, reformation, or any thing we can do.
And when we are reduced to this extremity, then we shall
listen with eager ears to the proposal of a Saviour. And
when we see his glory and sufficiency, and cast our guilty
souls upon him; when we submit to his commands, depend

592 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

entirely upon his atonement, and give up ourselves to God
through him, then we believe. Now, if they who thus
believe, to whom salvation is so often ensured, be not saved
but with great difficulty, where shall those appear who
never have experienced those exercises which are the
antecedents or constituents of saving faith? who have
never seen their own guilt and helplessness in an affecting
light; who have never seen the glory of God in the face
of Jesus Christ ; who have never submitted to him as their
Prophet, Priest, and King, and who do not live in the
flesh by faith in the Son of God? Alas! are they likely
to be saved who are destitute of the grand pre-requisite
of salvation? And yet, is not this the melancholy case
of some of you ? You may not be avowed unbelievers ;
you may believe there is one God, and that Jesus is the
true Messiah : in this you do well, but still it is no mighty
attainment, for the devils also believe and tremble, and
you may have this speculative faith, and yet be wholly
destitute of the faith of the operation of God, the precious
faith of God's elect; that faith which purifies the heart,
produces good works, and unites the soul to Jesus Christ.
Certainly the having or not having of such a faith, must
make a great difference in a man's character, and must be
followed by a proportionally different doom. And if they
that have it be but scarcely saved, I appeal to yourselves,
can they be saved at all who have it not ?

6. If true penitents be scarcely saved, where shall the
impenitent appear?

It is the character of the righteous that he is deeply
affected with sorrow for his sins in heart and practice ;
that he hates them without exception with an implacable
enmity; that he strives against them, and would resist them
even unto blood; that his repentance is attended with
reformation, and that he forsakes those things for the com-

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 593

mission of which his heart is broken with sorrows. Now,
repentance appears evidently to the common reason of
mankind a hopeful preparative for acceptance with God
and eternal happiness; and therefore if they who repent
are saved with great difficulty, where shall they appear
who persist impenitent in sin? Where shall they appear
who have hard, unbroken hearts in their breasts, who are
insensible of the evil of sin, who indulge themselves in it,
and cannot be persuaded to forsake it? Can you be at
any loss to know the doom of such, after Christ has told
us with his own lips, which never pronounced a harsh
censure? Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.
Luke xiii. 3, 5. And are there not some of this cha-
racter in this assembly? Alas! there is not the least
likelihood, or even possibility of your salvation in such a
condition.

7. The righteous man has the love of God shed abroad
in his heart, and it produces the usual sentiments and
conduct of love towards him. God is dearer to him than
all other things in heaven and earth : the strength of his
heart, and his portion for ever. Psalm Ixxiii. 25, 26. His
affectionate thoughts fix upon him, Psalm Ixiii. 6 ; he
rejoices in the light of his countenance, Psalm iv. 7 ; and
longs and languishes for him in his absence, Psalm xlii. 1,
2, and Ixiii. 1; Cant. iii. 1. His love is a powerful prin-
ciple of willing obedience, and carries him to keep his
commandments. 1 John v. 3. He delights in the law and
service of God, and in communion with him in his ordi-
nances. Now, such a principle of love is a very hopeful
preparative for heaven, the region of love, and for the en-
joyment of God. Such a one would take pleasure in him
and in his service, and therefore he certainly shall never
be excluded. But if even such are but scarcely saved,

where shall they appear who are destitute of the love of
VOL. I.— 75

594 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND

God ? There are few indeed but pretend to be lovers of
God, but their love has not the inseparable properties of
that sacred passion. Their pretence to it is an absurdity,
and if put into language, would be such jargon as this,
" Lord, I love thee above all things, though I hardly ever
affectionately think of thee ; I love thee above all, though
I am not careful to please thee; I love thee above all,
though my conduct towards thee is quite the reverse of
what it is towards one I love." Will such an inconsis-
tency as this pass for genuine supreme love to God, when
it will not pass for common friendship among men? No,
such have not the least spark of that heavenly fire in their
breasts, for their carnal mind is enmity against God. And
are these likely to be saved? likely to be admitted into
the region of love, where there is not one cold or disloyal
heart ? likely to be happy in the presence and service of
that God to whom they are disaffected ? Alas ! no.
Where, then, shall they appear? Oh! in what forlorn,
remote region of eternal exile from the blessed God !

I shall now conclude with a few reflections. 1. You
may hence see the work of salvation is not that easy trifling
thing which many take it to be. They seem mighty cau-
tious of laying out too much pains upon it ; and they cannot
bear that people should make so much ado, and keep such
a stir and noise about it.* For their part, they hope to
go to heaven as well as the best of them, without all this
preciseness and upon these principles they act. They
think they can never be too much in earnest, or too labo-
rious in the pursuit of earthly things; but religion is a
matter by-the-by with them ; only the business of an hour
once a week. But have these learned their religion from
Christ the founder of it, or from his apostles whom he ap-

* I here affect this low style on purpose to represent more exactly the sen-
timents of such careless sinners in their own usual language.

THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 595

pointed teachers of it? No ; they have formed some easy
system from their own imaginations suited to their depraved
taste, indulgent to their sloth and carnality, and favourable
to their lusts, and this they call Christianity. But you
have seen this is not the religion of the Bible ; this is not
the way to life laid out by God, but it is the smooth down-
ward road to destruction. Therefore,

2. Examine yourselves to which class you belong, whe-
ther to that of the righteous, who shall be saved, though
with difficulty, or to that of the ungodly and the sinner,
who must appear in a very different situation. To deter-
mine this important inquiry, recollect the sundry parts of
the righteous man's character which I have briefly de-
scribed, and see whether they belong to you. Do you
carefully abstain from vice and immorality ? Do you make
conscience of every duty of religion. Have you ever
been born again of God, and made more than externally
religious? Are you sensible of the difficulties in your
way from Satan, the world, and the flesh? And do you
exert yourselves as in a field of battle or in a race? Do
you work out your salvation with fear and trembling, and
press into the kingdom of God? Are you true believers,
penitents, and lovers of God? Are these or the contrary
the constituents of your habitual character? I pray you,
make an impartial trial, for much depends upon it.

3. If this be your habitual character, be of good cheer,
for you shall be saved, though with difficulty. Be not dis-
couraged when you fall into fiery trials, for they are no
strange things in the present state. All that have walked
in the same narrow road before you have met with them,
but now they are safe arrived in their eternal home. Let
your dependence be upon the aids of divine grace to bear
you through, and you will overcome at last. But,

4. If your character be that of the ungodly and the

SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY.

sinner, pause and think, where shall you appear at last?
When, like our deceased friend, you leave this mortal state,
and launch into regions unknown, where will you then ap-
pear? Must it not be in the region of sin, which is your
element now? in the society of the devils, whom you resem-
ble in temper, and imitate in conduct? among the trem-
bling criminals at the left hand of the Judge, where the
ungodly and sinners shall all be crowded? If you con-
tinue such as you now are, have you any reason at all to
hope for a more favourable doom ?

I shall conclude with a reflection to exemplify the con-
text in another view, that is, " If judgment begin at the
house of God, what shall be the end of them that obey
not the gospel? If the righteous, the favourites of hea-
ven, suffer so much in this world, what shall sinners, with
whom God is angry every day, and who are vessels of
wrath fitted for destruction, what shall they suffer in the
eternal world, the proper place for rewards and punish-
ments, and where an equitable Providence deals with every
man according to his works? If the children are chas-
tised with various calamities, and even die in common with
the rest of mankind, what shall be the doom of enemies
and rebels? If those meet with so many difficulties in
the pursuit of salvation, what shall these suffer in enduring
damnation ? If the infernal powers are permitted to worry
Christ's sheep, how will they rend and tear the wicked as
their proper prey? Oh that you may in this your day
know the things that belong to your peace, before they are
for ever hid from your eyes. Luke xix 42.

INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED. 597

SERMON XXIII.

INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND

VANITY.*

1 COR. vii. 29, 30, 31. — But this I say, brethren, the time
is short. It remaineth, that both they that have wives
be as though they had none ; and they that weep, as
though they wept not ; and they that rejoice, as though
they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as though they
possessed not ; and they that use this world, as not
abusing it. For the fashion of this world passeth
away.

A CREATURE treading every moment upon the slippery
brink of the grave, and ready every moment to shoot the
gulf of eternity, and launch away to some unknown coast,
ought to stand always in the posture of serious expecta-
tion ; ought every day to be in his own mind taking leave
of this world, breaking off the connections of his heart
from it, and preparing for his last remove into that world
in which he must reside, not for a few months or years as
in this, but through a boundless everlasting duration. Such
a situation requires habitual, constant thoughtfulness, ab-
straction from the world, and serious preparation for death
and eternity. But when we are called, as we frequently
are, to perform the last sad offices to our friends and neigh-
bours who have taken their flight a little before us ; when
the solemn pomp and horrors of death strike our senses,

* This sermon is dated, at Mr. Thompson's funeral, February 16, 1759.

598 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

then certainly it becomes us to be unusually thoughtful
and serious. Dying beds, the last struggles and groans of
dissolving nature, pale, cold, ghastly corpses :

" The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave :
The deep damp vault, the darkness and the worm ;"

these are very alarming monitors of our own mortality :
these out-preach the loudest preacher; and they must be
deep and senseless rocks, and not men, who do not hear
and feel their voice. Among the numberless instances of
the divine skill in bringing good out of evil, this is one,
that past generations have sickened and died to warn their
successors. One here and there also is singled out of our
neighbourhood or families, and made an example, a me-
mento mori, to us that survive, to rouse us out of our stupid
sleep, to give us the signal of the approach of the last
enemy, death, to constrain us to let go our eager grasp of
this vain world, and set us upon looking out and preparing
for another. And may I hope my hearers are come here
to-day determined to make this improvement of this me-
lancholy occasion, and to gain this great advantage from
our loss? To this I call you as with a voice from the
grave ; and therefore he that hath ears to hear, let him hear.
One great reason of men's excessive attachment to the
present state, and their stupid neglect of the concerns of
eternity, is their forming too high an estimate of the affairs
of time in comparison with those of eternity. While the
important realities of the eternal world are out of view,
unthought of, and disregarded, as, alas ! they generally
are by the most of mankind, what mighty things in their
esteem are the relations, the joys and sorrows, the posses-
sions and bereavements, the acquisitions and pursuits of
this life ? What airs of importance do they put on in their
view? How do they engross their anxious thoughts and

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 599

cares, and exhaust their strength and spirits ! To be happy,
to be rich, to be great and honourable, to enjoy your fill
of pleasure in this world, is not this a great matter, the
main interest in many of you? is not this the object of
your ambition, your eager desire and laborious pursuit?
But to consume away your life in sickness and pain, in
poverty and disgrace, in abortive schemes and disappointed
pursuits, what a serious calamity, what a huge affliction is
this in your esteem ? What is there in the compass of the
universe that you are so much afraid of, and so cautiously
shunning ? Whether large profits or losses in trade be not
a mightier matter, ask the busy, anxious merchant. Whe-
ther poverty be not a most miserable state, ask the poor
that feel it, and the rich that fear it. Whether riches be
not a very important happiness, ask the possessors; or
rather ask the restless pursuers of them, who expect still
greater happiness from them than those that are taught by
experience can flatter themselves with. Whether the plea-
sures of the conjugal state are not great and delicate, con-
sult the few happy pairs here and there who enjoy them.
Whether the loss of an affectionate husband and a tender
father be not a most afflictive bereavement, a torturing
separation of heart from heart, or rather a tearing of one's
heart in pieces, ask the mourning, weeping widow, and
fatherless children, when hovering round his dying-bed, or
conducting his dear remains to the cold grave. In short,
it is evident from a thousand instances, that the enjoyments,
pursuits, and sorrows of this life are mighty matters ! nay,
are all in all in the esteem of the generality of mankind.
These are the things they most deeply feel, the things
about which they are chiefly concerned, and which are the
objects of their strongest passions.

But is this a just estimate of things ? Are the affairs
of this world then indeed so interesting and all-important?

600 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

Yes, if eternity be a dream, and heaven and hell but ma-
jestic chimeras, or fairy lands ; if we were always to live
in this world, and had no concern with anything beyond
it; if the joys of earth were the highest we could hope for,
or its miseries the most terrible we could fear, then indeed
we might take this world for our all, and regard its affairs
as the most important that our nature is capable of. But
this I say, brethren, (and I pronounce it as the echo of an
inspired apostle's voice,) this I say, the time is short ; the
time of life in which we have anything to do with these
affairs is a short, contracted span. Therefore it remaineth,
that is, this is the inference we should draw from the
shortness of time, they that have wives, be as though they
had none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not ;
and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they
that buy, as though they possessed not ; and they that use
this world, as not abusing it, or using it to excess ; for the
fashion of this world, these tender relations, this weeping
and rejoicing, this buying, possessing, and using this world
passeth away. The phantom will soon vanish, the shadow
will soon fly off; and they that have wives or husbands in
this transitory life, will in reality be as though they had
none ; and they that weep now, as though they wept not ;
and they that now rejoice, as though they rejoiced not;
and they that now buy, possess and use this world, as
though they never had the least property in it. This is
the solemn, mortifying doctrine I am now to inculcate
upon you in the further illustration of the several parts of
my text; a doctrine justly alarming to the lovers of this
world, and the neglecters of that life which is to come.

When St. Paul pronounces anything with an unusual
air of solemnity and authority, and after the formality of
an introduction to gain attention, it must be a matter of
uncommon weight, and worthy of the most serious regard.

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 601

In this manner he introduces the funeral sentiments in my
text. This I say, brethren ; this I solemnly pronounce
as the mouth of God : this I declare as a great truth but
little regarded; and which therefore there is much need I
should repeatedly declare : this I say with all the authority
of an apostle, a messenger from heaven ; and I demand
your serious attention to what I am going to say.

And what is it he is introducing with all this solemn
formality ? Why, it is an old, plain, familiar truth univer-
sally known and confessed, namely, that the time of our
continuance in this world is short. But why so much for-
mality in introducing such a common plain truth, as this 1
Because, however generally it be known and confessed, it
is very rarely regarded ; and it requires more than even
the most solemn address of an apostle to turn the attention
of a thoughtless world to it. How many of you, my bre-
thren, are convinced against your wills of this melancholy
truth, and yet turn every way to avoid the mortifying
thought, are always uneasy when it forces itself upon your
minds, and do not suffer it to have a proper influence upon
your temper and practice, but live as if you believed the
time of life were long, and even everlasting ? Oh ! when
will the happy hour come when you will think and act
like those who believe that common, uncontroverted truth,
that the time of life is short ? Then you would no longer
think of delays, nor contrive artifices to put off the work
of your salvation ; then you could not bear the thought of
such negligent, or languid, feeble endeavours in a work
that must be done, and that in so short a time.

This I say, my brethren, the time is short : the time of
life is absolutely short ; a span, an inch, a hair's breadth.
How near the neighbourhood between the cradle and the
grave ! How short the journey from infancy to old age,
through all the intermediate stages ! Let the few among
VOL. I.— 76

602 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

you who bear the marks of old age upon you in gray hairs,
wrinkles, weakness, and pains, look back upon your tire-
some pilgrimage through life, and does it not appear to
you, as though you commenced men but yesterday ? And
how little a way can you trace it back till you are lost in
the forgotten unconscious days of infancy, or in that eter-
nal non-existence in which you lay before your creation !
But they are but a very few that drag on their lives
through seventy or eighty years. Old men can hardly
find contemporaries : a new race has started up, and they
are become almost strangers in their own neighbourhoods.
By the best calculations that have been made, at least one
half of mankind die under seven years old. They are
little particles of life, sparks of being just kindled and then
quenched, or rather dismissed from their suffocating con-
finement in clay, that they may aspire, blaze out, and
mingle with their kindred flames in the eternal world, the
proper region, the native element of spirits.

And how strongly does the shortness of this life prove
the certainty of another ? Would it be worth while, would
it be consistent with the wisdom and goodness of the
Deity, to send so many infant millions of reasonable crea-
tures into this world, to live the low life of a vegetable or
an animal for a few moments, or days, or years, if there
were no other world for these young immortals to remove
to, in which their powers might open, enlarge, and ripen ?
Certainly men are not such insects of a day : certainly
this is not the last stage of human nature : certainly there
is an eternity ; there is a heaven and a hell : — otherwise
we might expostulate with our Maker, as David once did
upon that supposition, Wherefore hast thou made all men
in vain 1 Psalm. Lxxxix. 47.

In that awful eternity we must all be in a short time.
Yes, my brethren, I may venture to prophesy that, in less

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 603

than seventy or eighty years, the most, if not all this assem-
bly, must be in some apartment of that strange untried
world. The merry, unthinking, irreligious multitude in
that doleful mansion which I must mention, grating as the
sound is to their ears, and that is hell!* and the pious,
penitent, believing few in the blissful seats of heaven.
There we shall reside a long, long time indeed, or rather
through a long, endless eternity. Which leads me to add,
That the time of life is short absolutely in itself, so
especially it is short comparatively ; that is, in comparison
with eternity. In this comparison, even the long life of
Methuselah and the antedeluvians shrink into a mere point,
a nothing. Indeed no duration of time, however long,
will bear the comparison. Millions of millions of years !
as many years as the sands upon the sea-shore ! as many
years as the particles of dust in this huge globe of earth;
as many years as the particles of matter in the vaster hea-
venly bodies that roll above us, and even in the whole
material universe, all these years do not bear so much pro-
portion to eternity as a moment, a pulse, or the twinkling
of an eye, to ten thousand ages ! not so much as a hair's
breadth to the distance from the spot where we stand to
the farthest star, or the remotest corner of creation. In
short, they do not bear the least imaginable proportion at
all ; for all this length of years, though beyond the power
of distinct enumeration to us, will as certainly come to an
end as an hour or a moment; and when it comes to an
end, it is entirely and irrecoverably past ; but eternity (oh
the solemn, tremendous sound !) eternity will never, never,

* Regions of sorrow ! doleful shades ! where peace
And rest can never dwell ! Hope never comes
That comes to all ! But torture without end
Still urges, and a fiery deluge fed
With ever-burning sulphur unconsum'd. — MILTON.

604 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

never come to an end ! eternity will never, never, never
be past!

And is this eternity, this awful, all-important eternity,
entailed upon us ? upon us, the offspring of the dust ? the
creatures of yesterday? upon us, who a little while ago
were less than a gnat, less than a mote, were nothing ?
upon us who are every moment liable to the arrest of
death, sinking into the grave, and mouldering into dust
one after another in a thick succession ? upon us whose
thoughts and cares, and pursuits are so confined to time
and earth, as if we had nothing to do with anything
beyond ? Oh ! is this immense inheritance unalienably
ours ? Yes, brethren, it is ; reason and revelation prove
our title beyond all dispute. It is an inheritance entailed
upon us, whether we will or not ; whether we have made
it our interest it should be ours or not. To command
ourselves into nothing is as much above our power as to
bring ourselves into being. Sin may make our souls
miserable, but it cannot make them mortal. Sin may for-
feit a happy eternity, and render our immortality a curse ;
so that it would be better for us if we never had been
born ; but sin cannot put an end to our being, as it can to
our happiness, nor procure for us the shocking relief of
rest in the hideous gulf of annihilation.

And is a little time, a few months or years, a great
matter to us 1 to us who are heirs of an eternal duration ?
How insignificant is a moment in seventy or eighty years !
but how much more insignificant is even the longest life
upon earth, when compared with eternity ! How trifling
are all the concerns of time to those of immortality!
What is it to us who are to live for ever, whether we live
happy or miserable for an hour ? whether we have wives,
or whether we have none ; whether we rejoice, or whether
we weep ; whether we buy, possess, and use this world ;

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 605

or whether we consume away our life in hunger, and na-
kedness, and the want of all things? it will be all one in a
little, little time. Eternity will level all ; and eternity is
at the door.

And how shall we spend this eternal duration that is
thus entailed upon us ? Shall we sleep it away in a stupid
insensibility or in a state of indifferency, neither happy
nor miserable ? No, no, my brethren ; we must spend it
in the height of happiness or in the depth of misery. The
happiness and misery of the world to come will not con-
sist in such childish toys as those that give us pleasure and
pain in this infant state of our existence, but in the most
substantial realities suitable to an immortal spirit, capable
of vast improvements and arrived at its adult age. Now,
as the apostle illustrates it, we are children, and we speak
like children, we understand like children; but then we
shall become men, and put away childish things. 1 Cor.
xiii. 11. Then we shall be beyond receiving pleasure or
pain from such trifles as excite them in this puerile state.
This is not the place of rewards or punishments, and
therefore the great Ruler of the world does not exert his
perfections in the distribution of either; but eternity is
allotted for that very purpose, and therefore he will then
distribute rewards and punishments worthy himself, such
as will proclaim him God in acts of grace and vengeance,
as he has appeared in all his other works. Then he will
show his wrath) and make his power known on the vessels
of wrath who have made themselves fit for destruction and
nothing else ; and he will show the riches of the glory of
his grace upon the vessels of mercy whom he prepared be-
forehand for glory. Rom. ix. 22, 23. Thus heaven and
hell will proclaim the God, will show him to be the Author
of their respective joys and pains, by their agreeable or
terrible magnificence and grandeur. Oh eternity ! with

606 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

what majestic wonders art thou replenished, where Jehovah
acts with his own immediate hand, and displays himself
God-like and unrivalled, in his exploits both of vengeance
and of grace ! In this present state, our good and evil
are blended ; our happiness has some bitter ingredients,
and our miseries have some agreeable mitigations ; but in
the eternal world good and evil shall be entirely and for
ever separated ; all will be pure, unmingled happiness, or
pure, unmingled misery. In the present state the best
have not uninterrupted peace within ; conscience has fre-
quent cause to make them uneasy; some mote or other
falls into its tender eye, and sets it a-weeping ; and the
worst also have their arts to keep conscience sometimes
easy, and silence its clamors. But then conscience will
have its full scope. It will never more pass a censure
upon the righteous, and it will never more be a friend, or
even an inactive enemy to the wicked for so much as one
moment. And oh what a perennial fountain of bliss or
pain will conscience then be ! Society contributes much
to our happiness or misery. But what misery can be felt
or feared in the immediate presence and fellowship of the
blessed God and Jesus (the friend of man); of angels and
saints, and all the glorious natives of heaven ! But, on
the other hand, what happiness can be enjoyed or hoped
for, what misery can be escaped in the horrid society of
lost, abandoned ghosts of the angelic and human nature ;
dreadfully mighty and malignant, and rejoicing only in
each other's misery ; mutual enemies, and mutual tormentors,
bound together inseparably in everlasting chains of dark-
ness ! Oh the horror of the thought ! in short, even a
heathen* could say,

* Non mihi si linguaa centum sint, oraque centum,
Ferrea vox, omnes scelerum comprendere formas,
Omnia pcenarum percurere nomina possum.

VIBG. JEn. VI. I. 625.

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 607

" Had I a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths,
An iron voice, I could not comprehend
The various forms and punishments of vice."

The most terrible images which even the pencil of di-
vine inspiration can draw, such as a lake of fire and
brimstone, utter darkness, the blackness of darkness, a
never-dying worm, unquenchable everlasting fire, and all
the most dreadful figures that can be drawn from all parts
of the universe, are not sufficient to represent the punish-
ments of the eternal world. And, on the other hand, the
eye, which has ranged through so many objects, has not
seen : the ear, which has had still more extensive intelli-
gence, has not heard ; neither have entered into the heart
of man, which is even unbounded in its conceptions, the
things that God hath laid up for them that love him.
The enjoyments of time fall as much short of those of
eternity, as time itself falls short of eternity itself.

But what gives infinite importance to these joys and
sorrows is, that they are enjoyed or suffered in the eternal
world, they are themselves eternal. Eternal joys ! eternal
pains ! joys and pains that will last as long as the King
eternal and immortal will live to distribute them ! as long
as our immortal spirits will live to feel them ! Oh what
joys and pains are these !

And these, my brethren, are awaiting every one of us.
These pleasures, or these pains, are felt this moment by
such of our friends and acquaintance as have shot the
gulf before us; and in a little, little while, you and I must
feel them.

And what then have we to do with time and earth ?
Are the pleasures and pains of this world worthy to be
compared with these? "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity;"
the enjoyments and sufferings, the labours and pursuits,
the laughter and tears of the present state, are all nothing

608 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

in this comparison. What is the loss of an estate or of a
dear relative to the loss of a happy immortality ? But if
our heavenly inheritance be secure, what though we should
be reduced into Job's forlorn situation, we have enough
left more than to fill up all deficiencies. What though we
are poor, sickly, melancholy, racked with pains, and in-
volved in every human misery, heaven will more than
make amends for all. But if we have no evidences of our
title to that, the sense of these transitory distresses may
be swallowed up in the just fear of the miseries of eternity.
Alas ! what avails it that we play away a few years in
mirth and gayety, in grandeur and pleasure, if when these
few years are fled, we lift up our eyes in hell, tormented
in flames ! Oh what are all these things to a candidate
for eternity ! an heir of everlasting happiness, or everlast-
ing misery!

It is from such convictive premises as these that St.
Paul draws his inference in my text ; " It remaineth there-
fore that they that have wives be as though they had none ;
and they that weep, as though they wept not ; and they
that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that
buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this
world as not abusing it."

The first branch of the inference refers to the dear and
tender relations that we sustain in this life. It remaineth
that those that have wives, and by a parity of reason those
that have husbands, parents, children, or friends dear as
their own souls, be as though they had none. St. Paul is
far from recommending a stoical neglect of these dear re-
lations. That he tenderly felt the sensations, and warmly
recommended the mutual duties of such relations, appears
in the strongest light in other parts of his writings, where
he is addressing himself to husbands and wives, parents
and children. But his design here is to represent the in-

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 609

significancy even of these dear relations, considering how
short and vanishing they are, and comparing them with
the infinite concerns of eternity. These dear creatures
we shall be able to call our own for so short a time, that
it is hardly worth while to esteem them ours now. The
concerns of eternity are of so much greater moment, that
it is very little matter whether we enjoy these comforts or
not. In a few years at most, it will be all one. The
dear ties that now unite the hearts of husband and wife,
parent and child, friend and friend, will be broken for ever.
In that world where we must all be in a little, little time,
they neither marry nor are given in marriage ; but are in
this respect like the angels. And of how small conse-
quence is it to creatures that are to exist for ever in the
most perfect happiness or misery, and that must so soon
break off all their tender connections with the dear crea-
tures that were united to their hearts in the present transi-
tory state ! of how small consequence is it to such, whether
they spend a few years of their existence in all the delights
of the conjugal state and the social life, or are forlorn,
bereaved, destitute, widowed, childless, fatherless, friend-
less ! The grave and eternity will level all these little
inequalities. The dust of Job has no more sense of his
past calamities, than that of Solomon who felt so few ; and
their immortal parts are equally happy in heaven, if they
were equally holy upon earth. And of how small conse-
quence is it to Judas now, after he has been above seven-
teen hundred years in his own place, whether he died
single or married, a parent or childless ? This makes no
distinction in heaven or hell, unless that, as relations in-
crease, the duties belonging to them are multiplied, and
the trust becomes the heavier; the discharge of which
meets with a more glorious reward in heaven, and the ne-
glect of which suffers a severer punishment in hell.

VOL. I.— 77

610 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

Farther, the apostle, in saying that they who have wives
should be as though they had none, intends that we should
not excessively set our hearts upon any of our dearest
relatives so as to tempt us to neglect the superior con-
cerns of the world to come, or draw off our affections
from God. We should always remember who it was that
said, " He that loveth father, or mother, or wife, or chil-
dren, more than me, is not worthy of me." " He that is
married," says St. Paul, in the context, " careth for the
things of the world, how he may please his wife," verse
33. But we should beware lest this care should run to
excess, and render us careless of the interests of our souls,
and the concerns of immortality. To moderate excessive
care and anxiety about the things of this world is the de-
sign the apostle has immediately in view in my text; for
having taught " those that have wives to be as though they
had none," &c., he immediately adds, " I would have you
without carefulness ;" and this is the reason why I would
have you form such an estimate of all the conditions of life,
and count them as on a level. Those that have the agree-
able weights of these relations ought no more to aban-
don themselves to the over-eager pursuit of this world, or
place their happiness in it ; ought no more to neglect the
concerns of religion and eternity, than if they did not bear
these relations. The busy head of a numerous family is as
much concerned to secure his everlasting interest as a
single man. Whatever becomes of him and his in this
vanishing world, he must by no means neglect to provide
for his subsistence in the eternal world; and nothing in
this world can at all excuse that neglect.

Oh that these thoughts may deeply affect the hearts of
such of us as are agreeably connected in such relations !
and may they inspire us with a proper insensibility and
indifference towards them when compared with the affairs

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 611

of religion and eternity ! May this consideration moder-
ate the sorrows of the mourners on this melancholy occa-
sion, and teach them to esteem the gain or loss of a happy
eternity as that which should swallow up every other
concern !

The next branch of the inference refers to the sorrows
of life. " It remaineth that they that weep be as if they
wept not." Whatever afflictions may befall us here, they
will not last long, but will soon be swallowed up in the
greater joys or sorrows of the eternal world. These tears
will not always flow ; these sighs will not always heave our
breasts. We can sigh no longer than the vital breath
inspires our lungs; and we can weep no longer than till
death stops all the fountains of our tears; and that will be
in a very little time. And when we enter into the eternal
world, if we have been the dutiful children of God here,
his own gentle hand shall wipe away every tear from our
faces, and he will comfort the mourners. Then all the
sorrows of life will cease for ever, and no more painful re-
membrance of them will remain than of the pains and
sickness of our unconscious infancy. But if all the disci-
pline of our heavenly Father fails to reduce us to our duty,
if we still continue rebellious and incorrigible under his
rod, and consequently the miseries of this life convey us to
those of the future, the smaller will be swallowed up and
lost in the greater as a drop in the ocean. Some desper-
ate sinners have hardened themselves in sin with this cold
comfort, " That since they must be miserable hereafter,
they will at least take their fill of pleasure here, and take
a merry journey to hell." But, alas ! what a sorry miti-
gation will this be ! how entirely will all this career of
pleasure be forgotten at the first pang of infernal auguish !
Oh ! what poor relief to a soul lost for ever, to reflect that
this eternity of pain followed upon and was procured by a

612 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

few months or years of sordid guilty pleasure ! Was that a
relief or an aggravation which Abraham mentions to his
lost son, when he puts him in mind, " Son, remember that
thou in thy life time receivedst thy good things ?" Luke
xvi. 25. Thou hadst then all the share of good which
thou ever shalt enjoy ; thou hadst thy portion in that
world where thou didst choose to have it, and therefore
stand to the consequences of thine own choice, and look
for no other portion. Oh ! who can bear to be thus re-
minded and upbraided in the midst of remediless misery !

Upon the whole, whatever afflictions or bereavements
we suffer in this world, let us moderate our sorrows and
keep them within bounds. Let them not work up and
ferment into murmurings and insurrections against God,
who gives and takes away, and blessed be his name ! Let
them not sink us into a sullen dislike of the mercies still
left into our possession. How unreasonable and ungrate-
ful, that God's retaking one of his mercies should tempt
us to despise all the rest ! Take a view of the rich in-
ventory of blessings still remaining, and you will find them
much more numerous and important than those you have
lost. Do not mistake me, as if I recommended or ex-
pected an utter insensibility under the calamities of life.
I allow nature its moderate tears; but let them not rise to
floods of inconsolable sorrows ; I allow you to feel your
afflictions like men and Christians, but then you must bear
them like men and Christians too. May God grant that
we may all exemplify this direction when we are put to
the trial.

The third branch of the inference refers to the joys and
pleasures of life. " The time is short ; it remaineth there-
fore that they that rejoice be as if they rejoiced not ;"
that is, the joys of this life, from whatever earthly cause
they spring, are so short and transitory, that they are as

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 613

of no account to a creature that is to exist for ever; to
exist for ever in joys or pains of an infinitely higher and
more important kind. To such a creature it is an indif-
ferency whether he laughs or weeps, whether he is joyful
or sad, for only a few fleeting moments. These vanishing,
uncertain joys should not engross our hearts as our chief
happiness, nor cause us to neglect and forfeit the divine
and everlasting joys above the skies. The pleasure we
receive from any created enjoyment should not ensnare us
to make it our idol, to forget that we must part with it, or
to fret, and murmur, and repine, when the parting hour
comes. When we are rejoicing in the abundance of
earthly blessings, we should be as careful and laborious in
securing the favour of God and everlasting happiness as if
we rejoiced not. If our eternal All is secure, it is enough ;
and it will not at all be heightened or diminished by the
reflection that we lived a joyful or a sad life in this pilgrim-
age. But if we spend our immortality in misery, what
sorry comfort will it be that we laughed, and played, and
frolicked away a few years upon earth? years that were
given us for a serious purpose, as a space for repentance
and preparation for eternity ? Therefore, let " those that
rejoice be as though they rejoiced not;" that is, be nobly
indifferent to all the little amusements and pleasures of so
short a life.

And let " those that buy be as if they possessed not."
This is the fourth particular in the inference from the
shortness of time, and it refers to the trade and business
of life. It refers not only to the busy merchant, whose
life is a vicissitude of buying and selling, but also to the
planter, the tradesman, and indeed to every man among
us ; for we are all carrying on a commerce, more or less,
for the purposes of this life. You all buy, and sell, and
exchange, in some form or other ; and the things of this

614 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

world are perpetually passing from hand to hand. Some-
times you have good bargains, and make large acquisitions.
But set not your hearts upon them ; but in the midst of
all your possessions, live as if you possessed them not.
Alas ! of what small account are all the things you call
your own upon earth, to you who are to stay here so
short a time ; to you who must so soon bid an eternal fare-
well to them all, and go as naked out of the world as you
•came into it; to you who must spend an everlasting dura-
tion far beyond the reach of all these enjoyments ? It is
not worth your while to call them your own, since you
must so soon resign them to other hands. The melan-
choly occasion of this day may convince you, that success
in trade, and plentiful estate, procured and kept by indus-
try and good management, is neither a security against
death, nor a comfort in it. Alas ! what service can
these houses and lands, and numerous domestics, perform
to the cold clay that moulders in yonder grave, or to
the immortal spirit that is fled we know not where?
Therefore buy, sensible that you can buy nothing upon a
sure and lasting title ; nothing that you can certainly call
yours to-morrow. Buy, but do not sell your hearts to the
trifles you buy, and let them not tempt you to act as if
this were your final home, or to neglect to lay up for your-
selves treasures in heaven; treasures which you can call
your own when this world is laid in ashes, and which you
can enjoy and live upon in what I may call an angelic
state, when these bodies have nothing but a coffin, a shroud,
and a few feet of earth.

Finally, let " those that use this world use it as not abus-
ing it." This is the fifth branch of the inference from the
shortness of time ; and it seems to have a particular refer-
ence to such as have had such success in their pursuit of
the world, that they have now retired from business, and

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 615

appear to themselves to have nothing to do but enjoy the
world, for which they so long toiled. Or it may refer to
those who are born heirs of plentiful estates, and therefore
are not concerned to acquire the world, but to use and en-
joy it. To such I say, " Use this world as not abusing
it;" that is, use it, enjoy it, take moderate pleasure in it,
but do not abuse it by prostituting it to sinful purposes,
making provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof,
indulging yourselves in debauchery and extravagance,
placing your confidence in it, and singing a requiem to
your souls: "Soul, take thine ease; eat, drink, and be
merry; for thou hast much goods laid up in store for
many years." Oh ! presumptuous " fool, this night thy
soul may be required of thee." Luke xii. 19, 20. Do
not use this world to excess,* (so the word may be trans-
lated,) by placing your hearts excessively upon it as your
favourite portion and principal happiness, and by suffering
it to draw off your thoughts and affections from the supe-
rior blessedness of the world to come. Use the world,
but let it not tempt you to excess in eating, drinking, dress,
equipage, or in any article of the parade of riches. Reli-
gion by no means enjoins a sordid, niggardly, churlish
manner of living ; it allows you to enjoy the blessings of
life, but then it forbids all excess, and requires you to keep
within the bounds of moderation in your enjoyments.
Thus " use this world as not abusing it."

The apostle's inference is not only drawn from strong
premises, but also enforced with a very weighty reason ;
" for the fashion of this world passeth away." The whole
scheme and system of worldly affairs, all this marrying,
and rejoicing, and weeping, and buying, and enjoying,
passeth away, passeth away this moment; it not only will
pass away, but it is even now passing away. The stream

* Karaxuptvot. So it is rendered by Doddridge, and others.

616 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

of time, with all the trifles that float on it, and all the eager
pursuers of these bubbles, is in motion, in swift, incessant
motion to empty itself and all that sail upon it into the
shoreless ocean of eternity, where all will be absorbed and
lost for ever. And shall we excessively doat upon things
that are perpetually flying from us, and in a little time will
be no more our property than the riches of the world be-
fore the flood 1 " O ye sons of men, how long will ye
follow after vanity? why do you spend your money for
that which is not bread, and your labour for that which
profiteth not?"

Some critics apprehend this sentence, the fashion of
this world passeth away, contains a fine striking allusion to
the stage, and that it might be rendered, " the scene of this
world passeth away." " You know," says a fine writer
upon this text, " that upon the stage the actors assume
imaginary characters, and appear in borrowed forms. One
mimics the courage and triumph of the hero ; another ap-
pears with a crown and a sceptre, and struts about with
all the solemnity and majesty of a prince ; a third puts on
the fawning smile of a courtier, or the haughtiness of a
successful favourite ; and the fourth is represented in the
dress of a scholar or a divine. An hour or two they act
their several parts on the stage, and amuse the spectators ;
but the scenes are constantly shifting; and when the play
is concluded, the feigned characters are laid aside, and the
imaginary kings and emperors are immediately divested of
their pretended authority and ensigns of royalty, and ap-
pear in their native meanness.

" Just so this world is a great stage that presents as va-
riable scenes, and as fantastical characters : princes, politi-
cians, and warriors, the rich, the learned, and the wise;
and, on the other hand, the poor, weak, and despised part
of mankind possess their several places on the theatre;

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 617

some lurk absolutely in a corner, seldom come from behind
the scenes, or creep along unnoticed ; others make a splen-
did show and a loud noise, are^adorned with the honours
of a crown, or possessed of large estates and great powers ;
fill the world with the glory of their names and actions,
conquer in the field, or are laboriously employed in the
cabinet. Well, in a little time the scene is shifted, and all
these vain phantoms disappear. The king of terrors clears
the stage of the busy actors, strips them of all their ficti-
tious ornaments, and ends the vain farce of life ; and being
brought all upon a level, they go down to the grave in their
original nakedness, are jumbled together undistinguished,
and pass away as a tale that is told."

Farther : " Upon the Greek or Roman theatres, to which
the apostle alludes, the actors, if I mistake not, frequently,
if not always, came upon the stage in a disguise, with a
false face, which was adapted to the different person or
character they designed to assume ; so that no man was to
be seen with his real face, but all put on borrowed visages.
And in allusion to this, the text might be rendered, ' The
masquerade of the world passeth away,' pointing out the
fraud and disguises which mankind put on, and the flatter-
ing forms in which they generally appear, which will all
pass away when the grave shall pull off the mask ; and
' they go down to the other world naked and open,' and
appear at the supreme tribunal in their due characters,
'and can no more be varnished over with fraudulent
colouring.' ':

Others apprehend, the apostle here alludes to some
grand procession, in which pageants or emblematical figures
pass along the crowded streets. The staring crowd wait
their appearance with eager eyes, and place themselves in
the most convenient posture of observation : they gape at

* Dunlop's Sermons, Vol. I. pp. 212-215.
VOL. I.— 78

618 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED

the passing show, they follow it with a wondering gaze ; —
and now it is past, and now it begins to look dim to the
sight, and now it disappears. Just such is this transitory
world. Thus it begins to attract the eager gaze of man-
kind ; thus it marches by in swift procession from our eyes
to meet the eyes of others ; and thus it soon vanishes and
disappears.*

And shall we always be stupidly staring upon this empty
parade, and forget that world of substantial realities to
which we are hastening? No; let us live and act as the
expectants of that world, and as having nothing to do with
this world, but only as a school, a state of discipline, to
educate and prepare us for another.

Oh ! that I could successfully impress this exhortation
upon all your hearts ! Oh ! that I could prevail upon you
all this day to break off your over-fond attachment to earth,
and to make ready for immortality ! Could I carry this
point, it would be a greater advantage than all the dead
could receive from any funeral panegyrics from me. I
speak for the advantage of the living upon such occasions,
and not to celebrate the virtues of those who have passed
the trial, and received their sentence from the supreme
Judge. And I am well satisfied the mourning relatives of
our deceased friend, who best knew and esteemed his
worth, would be rather offended than pleased, if I should
prostitute the present hour to so mean a purpose. Indeed,

* Thus Dr. Doddridge understands the text, Family Expositor, in loc., and
thus he beautifully describes it in his Hyms:

*' The empty pageant rolls along ;
The giddy inexperienc'd throng
Pursue it with enchanted eyes ;
It passeth in swift march away,
Still more and more its charms decay,
Till the last gaudy colours dies." — See HYMN 268.

Lucian has the best illustration of this passage, in this view, that I have
seen. Dialogue XXXII., Murphy's Edit.

FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 619

many a character less worthy of praise, often makes a
shining figure in funeral sermons. Many that have not
been such tender husbands, such affectionate fathers, such
kind masters, such sincere, upright friends, so honest and
punctual in trade, such zealous lovers of religion and good
men, have had their putrefying remains perfumed with
public praise from a place so solemn as the pulpit; but
you can witness for me, it is not my usual foible to run to
this extreme. My business is with you, who are as yet
alive to hear me. To you I call, as with the voice of your
deceased friend and neighbour, — Prepare ! prepare for
eternity ! Oh ! if the spirits that you once knew, while
clothed in flesh, should take my place, would not this be
their united voice, " Prepare, prepare for eternity ! ye frail
short-lived mortals ! ye near neighbours of the world of
spirits ! ye borderers upon heaven or hell, make ready,
loosen your hearts from earth, and all that it contains :
weigh anchor, and prepare to launch away into the bound-
less ocean of eternity, which methinks is now within your
ken, and roars within hearing !" And remember, " this I
say, brethren," with great confidence, " the time is short :
it remaineth therefore," for the future — " that they that
have wives, be as if they had none ; and they that weep, as
if they wept not ; and they that rejoice, as if they rejoiced
not ; and they that buy, as if they possessed not ; and they
that use this world, as not abusing it ; for the fashion of
this world," all its schemes of affairs, all the vain parade,
all the idle farce of life, " passeth away." And away let
it pass, if we may at last obtain a better country; that is,
a heavenly : which may God.grant for Jesus' sake ! Amen.

620 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

SERMON XXIV.

THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED THE MEAN OF SAL-
VATION.

COR. i. 22-24. — For the Jews require a sign, and the
Greeks seek after wisdom; but we preach Christ cruci-
fied, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the
Greeks foolishness; but unto them which are catted,
both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the
wisdom of God.

IF we should consider Christianity only as an improve-
ment of natural religion, containing a complete system of
morality, and prescribing a pure plan of worship, it is a
matter of the utmost importance, and worthy of universal
acceptance. In the one view, it is necessary to inform
the world in matters of sin and duty, and reform their
vicious practices; and in the other, to put an end to that
foolish and barbarous superstition which had over-run the
earth, under the notion of religious worship. And these
ends the Christian religion fully answers. Never was
there such a finished system of morality, or such a spiritual
and divine model of worship invented or revealed, as by
the despised Galilean, and the twelve fishermen that re-
ceived their instructions from him.

But this is not the principal excellency of the gospel ;
and did it carry its discoveries no farther, alas ! it would
be far from revealing a suitable religion for sinners. A
religion for sinners must reveal a method of salvation for

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 621

the lost, of pardon for the guilty, and of sanctifying grace
for the weak and wicked. And, blessed be God! the
gospel answers this end; and it is its peculiar excellency
that it does so. It is its peculiar excellency that it pub-
lishes a crucified Christ as an all-sufficient Saviour to a
guilty, perishing world. It is its glorious peculiarity that
it reveals a method of salvation every way honourable to
God and his government, and every way suitable to our
necessities; and that is, by the sufferings of Christ, the
Founder of this religion. This is the ground, the sub-
stance, and marrow of the gospel; and it is this, above all
other things, that its ministers ought to preach and incul-
cate. It should have the same place in their sermons
which it has in that gospel which it is their business to
preach; that is, it should be the foundation, the substance,
the centre, the drift of all.

This was the practice of the most successful preacher
of the gospel that ever bore that commission : I mean St.
Paul. And in this he was not singular; his fellow apostles
heartily concurred with him, We preach Christ crucified.
The sufferings of Christ, which had a dreadful consummation,
in his crucifixion, their necessity, design, and consequences,
and the way of salvation thereby opened for a guilty world,
these are the principal materials of our preaching; to instruct
mankind in these is the great object of our ministry, and
the unwearied labour of our lives. We might easily
choose subjects more pleasing and popular, more fit to dis-
play our learning and abilities, and set off the strong
reasoner, or the fine orator; but our commission, as min-
isters of a crucified Jesus, binds us to the subject; and the
necessity of the world peculiarly requires it. Further,
this was not the apostle's occasional practice, or a hasty
wavering purpose; but he was determined upon it. " I
determined," says he, " not to know any thing among you,

622 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

save Jesus Christ, and him crucified :"* 1 Cor. ii. 2. This
theme, as it were, engrossed all his thoughts ; he dwelt so
much upon it, as if he had known nothing else: and as if
nothing else had been worth knowing. Indeed, he openly
avows such a neglect and contempt of all other knowledge,
in comparison of this : " I count all things but loss, for the
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus, my Lord:"
Phil. iii. 8. The crucifixion of Christ, which was the most
ignominious circumstance in the whole course of his abase-
ment, was an object in which he gloried; and he is struck
with horror at the thought of glorying in any thing else.
" God forbid," says he, " that I should glory, save in the
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ!" Gal. vi. 14. In short,
he looked upon it as the perfection of his character as a
Christian and an apostle, to be a constant student, and a
zealous, indefatigable preacher of the Cross of Christ.

But though a crucified Jesus was of so much importance
in a religion for sinners; though this doctrine was the sub-
stance of the gospel, and the principal object of the apos-
tle's ministry ; yet, as it was not the invention of human
reason, so neither was it agreeable to the proud reason-
ings, or corrupt taste of the world. The preaching of the
cross is, to them that perish, foolishness. However, there
were some that had the same sentiment of it with St.
Paul; even as many as were in the way of salvation.
Unto us that are saved, it is the power of God, ver. 18.
To such, that weak and contemptible thing, the cross, was
the brightest display of divine power to be found in the
universe.

Mankind had had time enough to try what expedients

* Or Jesus Christ, even that crucified one. So Dr. Doddridge renders — 'fijo-oui/
XpurTdv itoi rov'ov iaavpwiitvov. Christ Jesus, and that under the most ignomi-
nious circumstances possible, viz., as crucified, was the principal object of
his study, and the substance of his preaching.

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 623

their reason could find out for the reformation and salva-
tion of a degenerate and perishing world. The sages and
philosophers of the heathen world had had a clear stage
for many hundreds of years; and they might have done
their utmost without control. But, alas ! did any of them,
amid all their boasted improvements, succeed in the ex-
periment? Or could they so much as find out a method
in which sinners might be reconciled to their God? No;
in this most interesting point, they were either stupidly
thoughtless, or all their searches issued in perplexity, or
in the most absurd and impious contrivances. "Where is
the wise ? where is the scribe ? where is the disputer of
this world?" Let them appear and produce their schemes
upon this head. But hath not God made foolish the wis-
dom of this world ? ver. 20. Yes, indeed, he has, by pro-
posing a method most perfectly adapted to this end, which
they not only never would have once thought of, but
which, when revealed, their wisdom cannot relish. Their
wisdom appears but folly, in that when they had the world
to themselves about four thousand years, they could not,
in all that time, find out any successful expedient to amend
and save it. And now, if any thing be done at all, it is
time for God to do it; and how strange, how unexpected,
how mysterious was his expedient ! and yet how glorious
and effectual ! " For after that, in the wisdom of God,
the world by wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by
the foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe;"
ver. 21. This was the contrivance for effecting what all
the wisdom and learning of the world could never effect ;
the plain unadorned preaching of Christ crucified; which,
both for the matter and manner of it, was counted foolish-
ness.

But how did the world bear this mortification of their
intellectual pride ? And what reception did this bounteous

624 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

divine scheme meet with when revealed? Alas! I am
sorry to tell you: The prejudices of their education were
different: but they were unitedly set againt the gospel.
The Jews had been educated in a religion established by
a series of miracles; and therefore they were extravagant
in their demands of this sort of evidence. Notwithstand-
ing all the miracles Christ was working daily before their
eyes, they were perpetually asking him, What sign showest
thou ? Those that are resolved not to be convinced, will
be always complaining of the want of proof, and demand-
ing more, to vindicate their infidelity. As for the Greeks,
their prejudices were of another kind; it was even a
proverb among them, that "miracles were for fools;"*
and therefore they did not desire that sort of evidence.
But they seek after wisdom. They had been accus-
tomed to fine orations, strong reasoning, and a parade of
learning; and these were the evidences they desired to re-
commend a doctrine to them. And finding the doctrine
of Christ crucified had none of these embellishments, they
despised and rejected it as foolishness and nonsense.

The method of salvation by the crucifixion of a sup-
posed malefactor, was so extremely opposite to the reason-
ing, pride, and prejudices of Jews and Gentiles, that they
could not bear it. The Jews expected the Messiah would
appear as a victorious temporal prince, who instead of
falling a prey to his enemies, would subdue them all with
an irresistible power, and advance the family of David to
universal empire. And of all other deaths, that of cruci-
fixion was the most odious and abominable to them, be-
cause, according to the custom of the Romans, it was the
punishment only of slaves; and by their own law it was
pronounced accursed ; for it is written, cursed is every one
that hangeth on a tree. Gal. iii. 13. Deut. xxi. 23.

* Qaiuara pupoig.

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 625

Hence, by way of contempt, the Jews called the blessed
Jesus the hanged man. Nay, this was a shock to the faith
of the apostles themselves, until their Jewish prejudices
were removed by better information. Finding that, in-
stead of setting up a glorious kingdom, their Master was
apprehended by his enemies, and hung upon a cross, they
had nothing to say, but, We trusted that it had been he
which should have delivered Israel : we simply thought so ;
but alas! now we see our mistake. Luke xxiv. 21. No
wonder the cross of Christ should be a stumbling-block to
such as had imbibed such notions of the Messiah. When,
instead of the power of signs and miracles which they
were extravagantly demanding, they saw him crucified in
weakness, they could not admit the thought that this was
that illustrious character of an universal king. They were
so dazzled with worldly glory, and so insensible of their
spiritual wants, that they had notions of a spiritual Saviour,
and a kingdom of grace; nor could they see how such
prophecies were accomplished in one that only professed
to deliver from the slavery of sin and Satan, and the wrath
to come. Hence they stumbled at the cross, as an obstacle
which they could not get over. When Christ called
Lazarus from the dead, he had crowds of followers, who
attended his triumphant procession into Jerusalem as a
mighty conqueror ; and when he had fed so many thousands
with a few loaves, they were about forcibly to make him
king; for they knew that one who could raise his soldiers
to life after they had been killed, and support an army
with so little provisions, could easily conquer the world,
and rescue them from the power of the Romans. But
when they saw him seized by his enemies, without making
resistance, or working a miracle for his own defence, they
immediately abandoned him ; and the hosannas of the mul-
titude were turned into another kind of cry, Crucify him,

VOL. I.— 79

626 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

Crucify him. And when they saw him hanging helpless
and dying upon the cross, it was demonstrated to them
that he was an impostor. It was this that rendered the
preaching of Christ by his apostles so unpopular among
the Jews: it seemed to them like a panegyric upon an in-
famous malefactor; and they thought it an insult to their
nation to have such a one proposed to them as their
Messiah. Thus Christ crucified was to the Jews a
stumbling-block.

As to the Greeks, who were a learned philosophical
people, it seemed to them the wildest folly to worship one
as a God who had been crucified as a malefactor; and to
trust in one for salvation who had not saved himself.
Their Jupiter had his thunder, and according to their
tradition, had crushed the formidable rebellion of the giants
against heaven: their Bacchus had avenged himself upon
the despisers of his worship ; and the whole rabble of their
deities had done some god-like exploit, if the fables of their
poets were true; and would they abandon such gods, and
receive in their stead a despised Nazarene, who had been
executed as the vilest criminal by his own nation ? Would
they give up all their boasted wisdom and learning, and
become the humble disciples of the cross, and receive for
their teachers a company of illiterate fishermen, and a
tent-maker from the despised nation of the Jews, whom
they held in the utmost contempt from their ignorance,
bigotry, and superstition? No, the pride of their under-
standings could not bear such a mortification. If their
curiosity led them to be St. Paul's hearers, they expected
to be entertained with a flourish of words, and fine philo-
sophic reasoning; and when they found themselves disap-
pointed, they pronounced him a babbler, (Acts xvii. 18,)
and his preaching foolishness. Corinth, to which this
epistle was sent by St. Paul, was a noted city among the

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 627

Greeks, and therefore, what he says upon this head was
peculiarly pertinent and well applied.

The prejudices of the Jews and Greeks in this respect
outlived the apostolic age, as we learn from the writings
of the primitive fathers of the Christian church, who lived
among them, and were conversant with them. Trypho,
the Jew, in a dialogue with Justin Martyr, about a hundred
years after St. Paul wrote this epistle, charges it upon the
Christians as the greatest absurdity and impiety, that they
placed their hopes in a crucified man. Justin, after long
reasoning, constrains him at length to make sundry con-
cessions, as, that the prophecies which he had mentioned
did really refer to the Messiah; and that, according to
these prophecies, the Messiah was to suffer. " But, (says
the Jew,) that Christ should be so ignominiously crucified;
that he should die a death which the law pronounces
accursed, this we cannot but doubt; this I yet find a very
hard thing to believe, and therefore if you have any further
evidence upon this head, would willingly hear it." Here
you see the cross was a stumbling-block, which the Jews
could not get over in a hundred years ; nay, they have not
got over it to this clay. Lactantius, about three hundred
years after Christ's birth, observes, that the sufferings of
Christ were wont to be cast upon Christians as a reproach ;
it was thought a strange and scandalous thing that they
should worship a man ; a man that had been crucified, and
put to the most infamous and tormenting death by men.*
A heathen, in Minutius Felix, is introduced as saying,
"He who represents a man punished for his crime with
the severest punishment, and the savage wood of the cross,
as the object of their worship, and a ceremony of their

* Passionnem quae velut opprobrium nobis objectari solet : quod et ho-
ininem, et ab bominibus insigni supplicio affectum et excruciatum colamus.
De ver. Sap. L. IV. c. 16.

628 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

religion, ascribes a very proper altar to such abandoned
and wicked creatures, that they may worship that which
they deserve to hang upon.'1* And referring to the many
barbarous persecutions they then groaned under, he jeers
them ! " See here," says he, " are threatenings for you,
punishments, tortures, and crosses, not to be adored, but
endured."! " The calumniating Greek," says Athanasius,
" ridicule us and set up a broad laugh at us, because we
regard nothing so much as the cross of Christ."

Thus you see, the doctrine of the cross was, of all
other things, the most unpopular among Jews and Gen-
tiles, and the most disagreeable to their taste. A man
could not expect to shine, or cut a figure as a man of
sense and learning, by making this the subject of his
discourses. But will Paul give it up, and display his
talents upon some more acceptable theme? This, as a
fine scholar, he was very capable of; but he abhors the
thought.

" Let the Jews and Greeks desire what they please ;
we," says he, " will not humour them, nor gratify their
taste ; however they take it, we will preach Christ cru-
cified ; though to the Jews he should prove a stumbling-
block, and to the Greeks foolishnesss." And there are
some that relish this humble doctrine. To them that
believe, both Jews and Greeks, whether learned or un-
learned, whether educated in the Jewish or Pagan religion,
however different their prejudices, or their natural tastes,
to all that believe, notwithstanding these differences, Christ,
that is, Christ crucified, is the power of God, and the
wisdom of God. The wisdom and power of God are not

* Qui hominem ?ummo supplicio pro facinore puniturn, et crucis ligna
feralia eorum Ceremonias fabulatur, congruentia perditis eceleratisque tribuit
altaria, ut id colanl quod merentur. P. 9.

f Ecce vobis mince, supplicia, tormenta, etiara non adorandse sed subeundse
cruces. P. 11.

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 629

the only perfections that shine in this method of salvation
by the cross; but the apostle particularly mentions these,
as directly answering to the respective demands of Jews
and Greeks. If the Jew desire the sign of power in
working miracles, the believer sees in Christ crucified a
power superior to all the powers of miracles. If the
Greeks seek after wisdom, here, in a crucified Christ, the
wisdom of God shines in the highest perfection. What-
ever sign or wisdom the Jew or Greek desires and seeks
after, the believer finds more than an equivalent in the
cross. This is the greatest miracle of power, the greatest
mystery of wisdom in all the world.

The prejudices of the Jews and Gentiles were not only
confined to the early ages of Christianity; the same de-
praved taste, the same contempt of the humble doctrines
of the cross may be found among us, though professed
Christians ; some resemble the Jews, who were perpetu-
ally demanding signs; they affect visions and impulses,
and all the reveries of enthusiasm, instead of the preach-
ing of Christ crucified. Others, like the Greeks, through
an affectation of florid harangues, moral discourses, and a
parade of learning and philosophy, nauseate this sort of
preaching, and count it foolishness. It is therefore high
time for the ministers of the gospel to stand up as advo-
cates for the cross, and with a pious obstinacy to adhere
to this subject, whatever contempt and ridicule it may
expose them to. For my part, I know not what I have
to do, as a minister of the gospel, but to preach Christ
crucified. I would make him the substance, the centre,
the end of all my ministrations. And if we, or an angel
from heaven, preach unto you any other gospel — you know
his doom — let him be accursed. Gal. i. 9.

We are to consider the apostles as sent out into the
world to reform and save the corrupt and perishing sons

630 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

of men, and the preaching of Christ crucified as the mean
they used for this important end. This is the formal view
the apostle had of preaching Christ in this place, viz., as
a mean found out by the wisdom of God to save them
that believe, after that all the wisdom of the world had
tried in vain to find out a method for this end. This is
evident from verse 21. After that the world by all its
wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by the foolishness
of preaching; that is, by the preaching a crucified
Saviour, which the world counts foolishness, to save them
that believe. This is the excellency of this preaching,
this is the reason why the apostle could not be prevailed
upon by any motive to desert it, that it is the only mean
of salvation ; and it is in this view I now intend to con-
sider it. And if your everlasting salvation be of any im-
portance to you, certainly this subject demands your most
serious attention.

I have been the longer explaining the context, because
it is so closely connected with the subject I have in view,
and reflects light upon it. And I shall only add, that
preaching Christ crucified is the same thing as preaching
salvation through the sufferings of Christ. His sufferings
were of long continuance, even from his conception to
his resurrection; and they were of various kinds, poverty,
weariness and labour, hunger and thirst, contempt and
reproach, buffeting, scourging, and a thorny crown. But
there are two words, which by a synecdoche are often used
in Scripture to signify all his sufferings of every kind,
from first to last; viz., his blood and his cross. And the
reason is, the shedding of his blood, and the death of the
cross, were the worst kind and highest degree of his suf-
ferings. In his crucifixion all his other sufferings were
united and centred; this was a complete summary and
consummation of them all; and therefore, they are fre-

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 631

quently included under this. In this latitude I shall use
the word in this discourse; which I hope you will take
notice of, that no part of the meaning may escape you.

Our inquiry shall be,

What are the reasons that the preaching of Christ cru-
cified is, above all others, the best, and the only effectual
mean for the salvation of sinners ?

These reasons may be reduced under two general
heads, namely, That through the crucifixion of Christ,
and through that only, a way is really opened for the sal-
vation of sinners; and that the preaching of Christ cru-
cified makes such a discovery of things, as has the most
direct tendency to bring them to repentance, and produce
in them that temper which is necessary to salvation. Or
in other words, in this way salvation is provided, and sin-
ners are made fit to enjoy it ; both which are absolutely
necessary. Our world is deeply and universally sunk in
sin. Men have cast contempt upon the divine govern-
ment, broken the divine law, and so incurred its penalty ;
they have forfeited the favour of God, and rendered them-
selves liable to his displeasure. Had mankind continued
innocent, there would have been no difficulty in their case.
It would be very plain what would be fit for the divine
government to do with dutiful subjects. But, alas ! re-
bellion against God has made its entrance into our world,
and all its inhabitants are up in arms against Heaven.
This has thrown all into confusion, and rendered it a per-
plexing case what to do with them. In one view, indeed,
the case is plain, viz., that proper punishments should be
executed upon them. This would appear evidently just
to the whole universe, and no objection could be made
against it, though the criminals themselves, who are parties,
and therefore not fit judges, might murmur against it as
unmerciful and severe. But the difficulty is, how such

632 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

rebels may not only be delivered from the punishments
they deserve, but made happy for ever. If they cannot
be saved in a way that displays the perfections of God,
and does honour to his government; a way in which sin
will meet with no encouragement, but, on the other hand,
an effectual warning will be given against it; a way in
which depraved creatures may be sanctified and made fit
for the pure bliss of heaven; I say, if they cannot be
saved in such a way as this, they cannot be saved at all ;
their salvation is quite impossible : for each of these par-
ticulars is of such importance, that it cannot be dispensed
with. God is the best and most glorious being in himself;
and it is fit he should do justice to his own perfections,
and exhibit them in the most God-like and glorious manner
to his creatures; to do otherwise would be to wrong him-
self, to obscure the brightest glory, and dishonour the
highest excellency. This therefore cannot be done ; men
and angels must be happy, in a way consistent with his
glory, otherwise they must perish ; for the display of his
glory is a greater good, and a matter of more importance,
than the happiness of the whole creation. God is also
the moral Governor of the world. And his government
over our world is a government over a country of rebels ;
and that is a tender point, and requires a judicious man-
agement. An error in government, in such a case, may
have the most fatal consequences, both as to the ruler and
his subjects in all parts of his dominions. A private person
may, if he pleases, give up his rights, may pardon offenders,
and conceal his justice, and other qualities for govern-
ment; but a ruler is not at liberty in this case. He must
maintain his character, make known his capacity for
government, and support the dignity of the law : other-
wise, all might rush into confusion and lawless violence.
If the ruler of a small kingdom on our little globe should

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 633

fail to discover his justice ; if he should pardon criminals,
and admit them into favour, and into posts of honour and
profit, without giving proper expressions of his displeasure
against their conduct, and a striking warning against all
disobedience, how fatal would be the consequences ? how
soon would such a ruler fall into contempt, and his govern-
ment be unhinged ? and how soon would his kingdom be-
come a scene of confusion and violence ? Criminals might
like such an administration; but I appeal to yourselves,
would you choose to live under it? Now, how much
more terrible and extensively mischievous would be the
consequences, if the universal Ruler of men and angels,
and of more worlds than we have heard the fame of,
should exercise such a government over our rebellious
world ? It would be reproachful to himself; and it would
be most injurious to his subjects ; in short, it might throw
heaven and earth, and unknown regions of the universe,
into confusion.* He must, therefore, display his own
rectoral virtues; he must maintain the honour of his
government, he must show his displeasure against diso-
bedience, and deter his subjects from it; I say, he must
do these things in saving the sinners of Adam's race, or he
cannot save them at all. Should he save them upon other
terms, it would reflect dishonour upon himself and admin-
istration ; and it would be injurious to the good of the
whole, which is always the end of a wise ruler; for the
favour thus injudiciously shown to a part of the creation
in our world, might occasion a more extensive mischief in
other more important worlds ; and so it would be promot-
ing a private interest to the detriment of the public, which
is always the character of a weak or wicked ruler. Again,

* Pardoning sin, receiving into favour, and bestowing happiness, are not
to be considered, in this case, as private favours ; but they are acts of go-
vernment.

VOL. I.— 80

634 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

sinners cannot be saved until their dispositions be changed,
so that they can relish and delight in the fruition and em-
ployments of the heavenly state. Provision, therefore,
must be made for this ; otherwise, their salvation is im-
possible.

Now, the way of salvation, through Christ crucified,
most completely answers these ends in the most illustrious
manner.

1. The salvation of sinners, in this way, gives the bright-
est display of the perfections of God, and particularly of
those that belong to him, as the Supreme Ruler of the
rational world, and maintains the honour of his govern-
ment.

Justice and clemency, duly tempered, and exercised
with wisdom, is a summary of those virtues that belong
to a good ruler. Now these are most illustriously dis-
played in a happy conjunction in Christ crucified. Justice
shines brighter than if every sin had been punished upon of-
fenders, without any mercy ; and mercy and clemency shine
brighter than if every sin had been pardoned, and every sin-
ner made happy, without any execution of justice. Mercy
appears in turning the divine mind with such a strong pro-
pensity upon the salvation of sinners; and justice appears
in that when the heart of God was so much set upon it,
yet he would not save them without a complete satisfac-
tion to his justice. Mercy appears in providing such a
Saviour; and justice, in inflicting the punishment due to
sin upon him, without abatement, though he loved him
more than the whole universe of creatures. Mercy, in
transferring the guilt from the sinner upon the Surety,
and accepting a vicarious satisfaction : justice in exacting
the satisfaction, and not passing by sin, when it was but
imputed to the darling Son of God. Mercy, in pardoning
and saving guilty sinners : justice in punishing their sin.

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 635

Mercy, in justifying them, though destitute of all personal
merit and righteousness : justice in justifying them only and
entirely on account of the merit and righteousness of
Christ. Thus the righteousness or justice of God is de-
clared not only in the punishment, but in the remission of
sins, Rom. iii. 26, and we are justified freely through his
grace, and in the meantime by the redemption that is in
Jesus Christ, (verse 24.) Mercy appears in providing a
Saviour of such infinite dignity : justice, in refusing satis-
faction from an inferior person. Mercy, in forgiving sin :
justice, in not forgiving so much as one sin without a suf-
ficient atonement. Mercy, rich, free mercy towards the
sinner : justice, strict, inexorable justice towards the Surety.
In short, mercy -and justice, as it were, walk hand in
hand through every step of this amazing scheme. They
are not only glorious each of them apart, but they mingle
their beams, and reflect a glory upon each other. By this
scheme of salvation, by the Cross of Christ, also, the
honour of the divine government is secured and advanced.
The clemency and compassion of God towards his rebel-
lious subjects, are most illustriously displayed; but, in the
meantime, he takes care to secure the sacred rights of his
government. Though innumerable multitudes of rebels
are pardoned, yet not one of them is pardoned until their
rebellion is punished according to its demerit in the person
of the Surety. The precept of the law, whieh they had
broken, was perfectly obeyed ; the penalty which they had
incurred, was fully endured, not by themselves indeed, but
by one that presented himself in their place ; and it is only
on this footing they are received into favour. So that the
law is magnified, and made honourable, and the rights of
government are preserved sacred and inviolable, and yet
the prisoners of justice are set free, and advanced to the
highest honours and blessedness.

636 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

2. In this way of salvation, God's hatred to sin is disco-
vered in the most striking light ; the evil of sin is exposed
in the most dreadful colours ; and so an effectual warning
is given to all worlds to deter them from it. Now it ap-
pears, that such is the divine hatred against all sin, that
God can by no means connive at it, or suffer it to pass
without punishment ; and that all the infinite benevolence
of his nature towards his creatures cannot prevail upon
him to pardon the least sin without an adequate satisfaction.
Nay, now it appears that when so malignant and abomina-
ble a thing is but imputed to his dear Son, his co-equal,
his darling, his favourite, even he could not escape unpun-
ished, but was made a monument of vindictive justice to
all worlds. And what can more strongly expose the evil
of sin 1 It is such an intolerably malignant and abomina-
ble thing, that even a God of infinite mercy and grace can-
not let the least instance of it pass unpunished. It was
not a small thing that could arm his justice against the Son
of his love. But when he was but made sin for us, and
was perfectly innocent in himself, God spared not his own
Son, but delivered him up unto death, the shameful, tor-
menting, and accursed death of the cross. Go, ye fools,
that make a mock at sin, go and learn its malignity and
demerit at the cross of Jesus. Who is it that hangs there
writhing in the agonies of death, his hands and feet pierced
•with nails, his side with a spear, his face bruised with
blows, and drenched with tears and blood, his heart melt-
ing like wax, his whole frame racked and disjointed; for-
saken by his friends, and even by his Father; tempted by
devils, and insulted by men ? Who is this amazing specta-
cle of woe and torture ? It is Jesus, the eternal Word of
God ; the man that is his fellow ; his Elect, in whom his
soul delighteth; his beloved Son, in whom he is well
pleased. And what has he done ? He did no wicked-

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 637

ness ; he knew no sin ; but was holy, harmless, undefiled,
and separate from sinners. And whence then all these
dreadful sufferings from heaven, earth, and hell ? Why,
he only stood in the law-place of sinners ; he only received
their sin by imputation. And you see what it has brought
upon him ! you see how low it has reduced him ! and what
a horrid evil must that be, which has tremendous conse-
quences, even upon the Darling of heaven ! Oh ! what
still more dreadful havoc would it have made, if it had been
punished upon the sinner himself in his own person !
Surely all the various miseries which have been inflicted
upon our guilty world in all ages, and even all the punish-
ments of hell, do not so loudly proclaim the terrible desert
and malignity of sin as the cross of Christ ; and hence it
follows, that in this way of salvation, the most effectual
warning is given to the whole universe, to deter them from
disobedience. Rebels are pardoned and made happy,
without making a bad precedent, or giving any encourage-
ment to others to repeat the transgression. And this was
the tender and critical point. If rebels can be pardoned
without reflecting dishonour upon the government, and
doing injury to the society, it is well ; but how this shall
be done is the difficulty. But by the strange expedient of a
crucified Saviour, all the difficulty is removed. Sinners
can no more presume upon sin, with a pretence that the
Supreme Ruler has no great indignation against it, or that
there is no great evil in it; for, as I observed, his hatred
to sin, and the infinite malignity of it, appear nowhere in
so striking and awful a light as in the cross of Christ. Let
a reasonable creature take but one serious view of that,
and sure he must ever after tremble at the thought of the
least sin. Again, though sinners are pardoned in this
way, yet no encouragement is given to the various ter-
ritories of the divine dominions to flatter themselves

638 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

that they also will be forgiven in case they should imitate
the race of man in their rebellion. There is but one
instance that we know of in the whole universe of the
forgiveness of sin, and the restoration of rebels into favour ;
and we are so happy as to find that only instance in our
guilty world. But what a strange revolution has been
brought about ! what amazing miracles have been wrought
in order to prepare the way for it ! The eternal Son of
God must become a man, and die the death of a crim-
inal and slave upon the cross. The very first effort of
pardoning grace went thus far; and is it possible it
should go any farther; or is there reason to hope that
such a miracle should often be repeated ? — that the Son
of God should hang upon a cross as often as any race of
creatures may fall into sin? Such hopes receive a damp
from the case of the apostate angels, for whom he refused
to die and assume the office of a Saviour. Or is there
any other being that can perform that task for some other
kingdom of rebels which Christ has discharged for the sons
of men 1 No : he only is equal to it ; and none else has
sufficient dignity, power, or love. This, therefore, must
strike a terror into all worlds at the thought of sin, and
leave them no umbrage to presume they shall escape pun-
ishment, when they observe that the redeemed from among
men could not be saved but at so prodigious an expense,
and that the fallen angels are suffered to perish without
any salvation provided for them at all.

3. In this way, provision is made for the sanctification
of sinners, that they may be fit for the fruitions and em-
ployments of the heavenly state. Their taste is so vitiated,
that they have no relish for that pure bliss, and therefore
can no more be happy there than a sick man can relish
the entertainments of a feast. And they are so far gone
with the deadly disease of sin, that they are not able to re-

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 639

cover themselves ; nay, they are not so much as disposed
to use means for that end. They are estranged from God,
and engaged in rebellion against him ; and they love to
continue so. They will not submit, nor return to their
duty and allegiance. Hence, there is need of a superior
power to subdue their stubborn hearts, and sweetly con-
strain them to subjection ; to inspire them with the love of
God, and an implacable detestation of all sin. And for this
purpose, the Holy Spirit of God is sent into the world :
for this purpose he is at work, from age to age, upon the
hearts of men. And though he be most ungratefully resisted,
grieved, and despitefully treated, and he gives up many to
the lusts of their own hearts, yet numerous and glorious
are the conquests he has gained over rebellious sinners.
Many a stubborn will has he sweetly subdued; many a
heart of stone has he softened, and dissolved into ingenu-
ous repentance, like snow before the sun ; many a depraved
soul has he purified, and at length brought to the heavenly
state in all the beauties of perfect holiness. And hence it
is, that there is any such thing as true religion to be found
upon earth, and that any of the sons of men are recovered
to obedience and happiness. But for this inestimable bless-
ing we are indebted to a crucified Christ. It is the dear
purchase of his blood, and had it not been so purchased, it
would never have been communicated to our guilty world ;
and consequently never would one rebel have submitted,
never would one heart have felt the love of God, among
all the sons of men.

Thus, my brethren, you see a way is really opened for
the salvation of sinners through the crucifixion of Christ.
And oh ! what an amazing, unexpected, mysterious way !
how far beyond the reach of human wisdom ! and how
brilliant a display of the divine ! To display the perfec-
tions of God by occasion of sin more illustriously than if

640 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

sin had never entered into the world, and thus bring the
greatest good out of the greatest evil — to pardon and save
the sinner, and yet condemn and punish his sin ! — to give
the brightest display of justice in the freest exercise of
mercy ; and the richest discovery of mercy in the most
rigorous execution of justice — to dismiss rebels from pun-
ishment, and advance them to the highest honours, and yet
secure and even advance the honour of the government
against which they had rebelled — to give the most effec-
tual warning against sin, even in rewarding the sinner ;
and to let it pass unpunished, without making a bad prece-
dent, or giving any encouragement to it — to magnify the
law in justifying those that had broken it — to discover the
utmost hatred against sin, in showing the highest love to
the sinner — what an astonishing God-like scheme is this !
What a stupendous display of the infinite wisdom of God I
Could the Socrateses, the Platos, and other oracles of the
heathen world, ever have found out an expedient to an-
swer this end, and reconcile these seeming contradictions !
No ; this would have nonplussed men and angels ; for in
what a strange, unthought-of way is it brought about !
that the Son of God should become the Son of man ; the
Head of the universe appear in the form of a servant ;
the Author of life die upon a cross ; the Lawgiver become
the subject of his own law, and suffer its penalty, though
perfectly innocent! Who would ever have thought of
such strange events as these? This is to accomplish as-
tonishing things in an astonishing way. You may as well
set a human understanding to draw the plan of a world,
as to form such a scheme as this. Oh ! it is all divine ; it
is the wonder of angels; and the greatest miracle in the
universe.

Thus, you see, there are very good reasons, reducible
to this head, why the Cross of Christ should be the grand

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 641

weapon to destroy the kingdom of darkness, and rescue
sinners and bring them into a state of liberty and glory.

And there are reasons, equally important, that fall under
the other head, viz. : That the preaching of Christ cruci-
fied makes such a discovery of things, as has the most
direct tendency to bring sinners to repentance, and pro-
duce in them that temper which is necessary to their sal-
vation.

If a representation of the most moving, the most allur-
ing, and most alarming matters, can affect the mind of man,
certainly the preaching of the cross cannot be without
effect; for,

1. The preaching of a crucified Saviour gives the strong-
est assurance to the guilty sons of men, that their offended
God is reconcilable to them, and willing to receive them
into favour again, upon their penitent return to him. The
provision he has made for this end, and particularly his
appointing his Son to be their Saviour, and delivering him
up to the death of the cross for them, leaves no room for
doubt upon this head. It is full demonstration that he is
not only willing, but that his heart is earnestly set upon
reconciliation ; otherwise he would not have been at. such
infinite pains and expense to remove obstructions, and clear
the way for it. Now this is an assurance that the light
of nature could never give. It leaves us dreadfully in the
dark. And indeed, nothing but an express declaration
from God himself can inform us what he intends to do
with criminals that lie entirely at mercy, and that he may
do what he pleases with. The heathen world were either
stupidly thoughtless about this point, or full of anxiety ; and
their philosophers, amid all their boasted knowledge could
only offer plausible conjectures. And yet this assurance
is necessary to keep up religion in the world, and encour-
age rebellious sinners to return to obedience; for with
VOL. I.— 81

642 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

what heart can they serve that God, as to whom they fear
he will accept of no service at their hands, or return to
him, when they have no encouragement that he will re-
ceive them ? The hope of acceptance is the spring of re-
pentance and all attempts for reformation ; and when once
the sinner concludes there is no hope, he lies down inac-
tive and sullen in despair, or confirms himself in hardened
impenitence, and gives the full rein to his lusts. This the
Psalmist observed long ago : " There is forgiveness with
thee, that thou mayest be feared." Ps. cxxx. 4. The
fear of God is often used in Scripture for the whole of re-
ligion ; and so it seems taken here. As much as to say,
" There is forgiveness with thee ; and thou hast assured us
of it, that religion might be preserved in the world, that
mankind may not abandon thy service as wholly in vain :
or give up themselves to sin, as despairing of acceptance
upon their repentance." Oh ! what an acceptable assur-
ance must this be to a guilty, trembling sinner ! And how
suitable a remedy to such sinners is the preaching of the
cross of Christ, which alone gives them this welcome as-
surance !

2. The preaching of a crucified Saviour gives the most
moving display of the love of God ; and love is a strong
attractive to repentance and obedience. There cannot be
so strong an expression of love as the sufferings of Christ.
For God to give us life, and breath, and all things — what
is this, in comparison to the gift of his Son, and those im-
mortal blessings which he has purchased with his blood?
To create such a world as this for our residence, to fur-
nish it with such a rich variety of blessings for our accom-
modation, and to exercise a tender providence over us
every moment of our lives, this is amazing love and good-
ness. But what is this in comparison of his dying love !
To speak an all-creating word, and to hang, and agonize,

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 643

and expire upon the cross ! to give us the blessings of the
earth, and to give the blood of his heart; these are very
different things ; they will not hold in comparison.

My brethren, let me make an experiment upon you
with the cross of Christ, and try with that weapon to slay
your sins, and break your hearts. Can you view such
agonies and question the love that endured them ? Or
can you place yourselves under the warm beams of that
love, and yet feel no love kindled in your hearts in return ?
What ! not the love of a worm for the dying love of a
God ! The apostle John reasons very naturally, when he
says, We love him, because he first loved us, 1 John iv. 19.
Love for love is but a reasonable retaliation ; especially
the love of a redeemed sinner for the love of a crucified
Saviour. St. Paul felt the energy of this love irresistible :
The love of Christ constraineth us, 2 Cor. v. 14; or ac-
cording to the emphasis of the original word,* it carries us
away like a resistless torrent. And it appeared to him so
shocking, that he could not mention it without weeping,
that any should be enemies to the cross of Christ : Phil,
iii. 18. Hear what expectations he had from the energy
of his cross who himself hung upon it. "I," says he, "if
I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me."
John xii. 32. This the evangelist teaches us to under-
stand of the manner of his death, viz., his being raised up
from the earth, and suspended on the cross. There, sin-
ners, he hung to attract your love : and can you resist the
force of this attraction, this almighty magnet 1 Jesus, if I
may so speak, expects that this will carry all before it :
that every sinner who sees him hanging there will imme-
diately melt into repentance, and be drawn to him by the
cords of love. And oh ! can you find in your hearts to
resist ! Where, then, is the gratitude ? Is that generous

* aivlxti. So Dr. Doddridge translates it.

644 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

principle quite dead within you ? I must honestly tell
you, if the love of a crucified Saviour does not attract your
love, nothing else will: you will continue his enemies, and
perish as such. This is the most powerful inducement
that can be proposed to you : all the reasonings of the
ablest philosophers, all the persuasions of the ministers of
the gospel, all the goodness of God in creation and provi-
dence, will never prevail upon you, if your hearts are
proof against the attraction of the cross. But, blessed be
his name who died upon it, many an obstinate and reluc-
tant heart has this cross allured and subdued : and oh !
that we may all feel its sweet constraints !

3. The preaching of Christ crucified gives such a rep-
resentation of the evil of sin, and the dreadful punishment
due to it, as naturally tends to turn sinners from it, and bring
them to repentance. In the Cross of Christ the sinner
may see what malignity there is in sin, when it brought
such heavy vengeance on the head of the Surety. There
the sinner may see how God hates it, when he punished
it so severely in his beloved Son. If the almighty
Redeemer sunk under the load, how shall the feeble sin-
ner bear up under it ? If God spared not his own Son,
who was but a surety, how can the sinner escape, who
was the original debtor ! Oh sinners ! never call it cruel
that God should punish you for your sins; so he dealt
with Jesus, his favourite ; and how can you hope for more
favour ? Read the nature of sin as written in characters
of blood on the cross of Christ, and surely you can make
light of it no more. You must tremble at the very thought
of it; and immediately reform and repent of it. All the
harangues of moralists upon the intrinsic deformity, the
unreasonableness, the incongruity of vice, never can rep-
resent it in such a shocking light as you view it in the
sufferings of Christ. And can you look upon your sins

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 645

piercing him, stretching him upon the cross, and slaughter-
ing him, and yet not mourn over them ? Oh ! can you
indulge the murderous things that shed his blood 1 Then
you practically pronounce him an impostor, and join the
cry of the Jewish rabble, Crucify him, crucify him !

4. The preaching of Christ crucified presents us with
such a perfect pattern of obedience, as has at once the force
of an example, and an inducement to holiness. We need no
longer view the law in theory : we see it reduced into an
uniform practice, and presented to the life, in the whole
of our Lord's conduct towards God and man. We see
one in our nature, upon our guilty globe, in our circum-
stances, behaving exactly agreeable to the divine law, and
leaving us an example that we might follow his steps. And
shall we not delight to imitate our best friend, and the
most perfect pattern that ever was exhibited ? Oh ! how
sweet to walk as he walked in the world, and to trace the
steps of his lovely feet ! Until the doctrine of the cross
was introduced, the world was sadly at a loss about a rule
of duty. All the admired writings of pagan antiquity can-
not furnish out one complete system even of morality; but
here we have a perfect law, and a perfect example, which
has the force of a law. Therefore, let us be followers of
this incarnate God as dear children.

FOR AN APPLICATION:

1. Hence we may learn our great happiness in enjoy-
ing the preaching of Christ crucified. It is but a very
small part of the world that has heard this joyful sound ;
and the time has been, when none of the sons of men en-
joyed it in that full evidence which we are favoured with.
Now, since it pleases God by this foolishness of preaching,
to save them that believe, since this is the most effectual

646 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

mean for our recovery from sin and ruin — how great, how
distinguishing, how peculiar is our privilege ! It becomes
us, my brethren, to know our happiness that we may be
thankful. How few among the sons of men enjoy this
privilege ! How does the whole world lie in wickedness !
Alas ! they are fatally unconcerned, or fruitlessly anxious
about a way of reconciliation with God. Their priests
and philosophers can afford them no relief in this case ;
but either mislead them or increase their perplexity. But
we have the strongest assurance that God is reconcilable
to us ; and the clearest discovery of the way. We have
the most powerful inducements to repentance, and the
most effectual restraints from sin. And what gratitude
does this call for from us, to our divine Benefactor ! and
how solicitous should we be to make a proper improve-
ment of our peculiar advantages !

2. Hence we may learn the shocking guilt and danger
of our modern infidels, the Deists, who, like the Greeks,
count the preaching of Christ crucified foolishness, and
deny the Lord that bought them. This is to reject the
best, the last, the only remedy. Now, let them consult
their feeble reason ; let them go to the oracles of wisdom
in the heathen world, and ask of them how guilty offenders
may be restored into favour, in consistency with the
honour of the divine perfections and government ! Alas,
they can find no satisfactory answer! Now also they
have lost the strongest motive to love and obedience, when
they have turned away their eyes from the cross. They
have lost the most full and amiable view of the divine
nature and perfections that ever was exhibited to the
world. Should they shut their eyes against the light of
the sun, and abhor all the beauties of nature, it would not
be such an astonishing instance of infatuation. St. Paul
represents it as the most amazing folly, nay, a kind

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 647

of witchcraft and incantation, that any should desert
the truth, that had ever had the least view of Christ cruci-
fied. " Oh foolish Galatians ! who hath bewitched you,
that ye should not obey the truth, before whose eyes
Jesus Christ hath been evidently set forth, crucified among
you?" Gal. iii. 1. What wickedness, what madness, what
an unnatural conspiracy against their own lives must it be
for men to reject the only expedient found out by infinite
wisdom and goodness for their salvation ! What base in-
gratitude thus to requite the dying love of Jesus ! Can
such monsters expect salvation from his hands ? No ; they
wilfully cut themselves off from all hope, and bring upon
themselves swift destruction. If the cross of Christ does
not break their hearts, it is impossible to bring them to re-
pentance ; the last and most powerful remedy has proved
ineffectual; the last and strongest effort of divine grace
has been used with them in vain. Since they obstinately
reject the sacrifice of Christ, there remains no other sacri-
fice for their sin, and nothing awaits them but a fearful ex-
pectation of wrath and fiery indignation, which shall de-
vour them as adversaries.

3. Hence we should inquire what effect the preaching
of Christ crucified has had upon us. Since this is the
grand mean Divine Wisdom has found out for the recovery
of our wicked world, when all other means had been in
vain, it is of the utmost importance to us, that we should
inquire, whether it is likely to answer this end upon us.
It pleases God by this foolishness of preaching, to save
them that believe. Observe the limitation — them that be-
lieve. They, and only they, can be saved by it. As for
unbelievers, they cannot be saved in this or any other
way. Let us then abandon every other concern for
a while, and seriously examine ourselves in this point.
Faith comes by hearing ; and have we been brought to

648 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

believe by hearing the preaching of the cross ? Do we
relish this humble, despised doctrine with peculiar plea-
sure ? Is it the life and nourishment of our souls, and the
ground of all our hopes ? Or do we secretly wonder
what there can be in it, that some should be so much
affected with it ? " To them that perish," says the apostle,
and to them only, " the preaching of the cross is foolish-
ness." And is that our dreadful characteristic ? Or does
a crucified Christ appear to us as the wisdom of God, and
the power of God, as he does to all them that believe,
however different their natural tastes, and the prejudices
of their education, and their outward circumstances ? Do
we suspend all our hopes upon the cross of Christ ? Do
we glory in it above all other things, whatever contempt
the world may pour upon it 1 Do we feel our necessity
of a Mediator in all our transactions with God, and depend
entirely upon the merit of his death for acceptance, sensible
that we have no merit of our own to procure one smile
from God 1 Have we ever had our hearts enlightened to
behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ?
Have we admired the scheme of salvation through a cru-
cified Jesus, as illustrating the perfections of God, and
securing the honour of the divine government, while it
secures our salvation ? And do we delight in it upon that
account ? Or are we quite indifferent about the glory of
God, if we may be but saved 1 Alas ! hereby we show
we are entirely under the government of selfish principles,
and have no regard for God at all. Do our thoughts fre-
quently hover and cluster about the cross with the ten-
derest affections? And has the view of it melted our
hearts into the most ingenuous lamentings for sin, and given
us such a hatred against it, that we can never indulge it
more? My brethren, put such questions as these home
to your hearts, and then endeavour to come to some just

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 649

conclusion with regard to yourselves. And if the conclu-
sion be against you, then,

4. Consider your guilt and danger — consider your in-
gratitude in rejecting all the love of God, and a crucified
Saviour — your hardness of heart, that has not been broken
by such a moving representation — the aversion of your
souls to God, that have not been allured to him by the
powerful attraction of the cross — and oh! consider your
danger: the last remedy has been tried upon you in vain;
Christ's grand expedient for the salvation of sinners has
had no effect upon you. Had the religion of the Jews,
or of the heathen world, failed to bring you to repentance,
there might be still some hope that the preaching of Christ
crucified might prevail. But, alas! when that fails, how
discouraging is your case ! Therefore, I pray you, take
the alarm, and labour to get your hearts affected with this
representation. Oh yield to the attraction of the cross !
let him draw you to himself whom you see lifted up on it;
and do not attempt such an exploit of wickedness as to
resist the allurements of such love. And oh ! cry to God
for his enlightening Spirit. Alas! it is your blindness
that renders you unaffected with this moving object. Did
you but know the Lord of glory, who was crucified ; did
you but see the glory of the plan of salvation through his
sufferings, you would immediately become the captive of
his cross, conquered by the power of his love. And
such, believe me, such you must be, before you can be
saved. But if the result of your examination turn out in
your favour, then,

5. You may entertain the joyful hope of salvation; of
salvation through one that was insulted as not able to save
himself; of crowns of glory, through him that wore the
crown of thorns ; of fulness of joy through the man of

sorrows ; of immortal life through one that died upon a
VOL. I.— 82

650 THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED

cross ; I say, you may entertain a joyful hope of all this ;
for in this way of salvation there is no hinderance, no
objection. God will be glorified in glorifying you, the
law magnified in justifying you. In short, the honour of
God and his government concur with your interest; and,
therefore, if you heartily embrace this plan of salvation,
you may be as sure that God will save you, as that he
will take care of his own glory, for they are inseparably
connected. And do not your hearts, dead as they are,
spring within you at the thought? Do you not long to
see your Saviour on the throne, to whose cross you are
indebted for all your hopes ? And oh ! will you not praise
his name while you live, and continue the song through
all eternity? Are you not ready to anticipate the anthem
of heaven, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour,
and glory, and blessing : for thou hast redeemed us to God
by thy blood? Rev. v. 9, 12.

Finally, let me congratulate* my reverend brethren, on
their being made ministers of the New Testament, which
reveals that glorious and delightful subject, Christ cruci-
fied, in full light, and diffuses it through all their studies
and discourses. The Lamb that was slain is the theme
that animates the songs of angels and saints above, and
even our unhallowed lips are allowed to touch it without
profanation. Let us, therefore, my dear brethren, delight
to dwell upon it. Let us do justic,e to the refined morality
of the gospel; let us often explain and enforce the pre-
cepts, the graces, and the virtues of Christianity; and
teach men to live righteously, soberly, and godly in the
world. But let us do this in an evangelical strain, as

* The author, towards the end of the discourse, writes, " At a Presbytery
in Augusta, April 25, 1759;" which accounts for this particular address to
ministers.

THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 651

ministers of the crucified Jesus, and not as the scholars of
Epictetus or Seneca. Let us labour to bring men to a
hearty compliance with the method of salvation through
Christ; and then we shall find it comparatively an easy
matter, a thing of course, to make them good moralists.
Then a short hint of their duty to God and man will be
more forcible than whole volumes of ethics, while their
spirits are not cast in the gospel-mould. Thus may we
be enabled to go on, till our great Master shall take our
charge off our hands, and call us to give an account of our
stewardship !

652 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS

SERMON XXV.

INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS BUT GENERAL INIQUITY.

2 CHRON. xxxii. 25. — But Hezekiah rendered not again
according to the benefit done unto him.

AMONG the many vices that are at once universally
decried, and universally practised in the world, there is
none more base or more common than ingratitude; in-
gratitude towards the supreme Benefactor. Ingratitude
is the sin of individuals, of families, of churches, of king-
doms, and even of all mankind. The guilt of ingratitude
lies heavy upon the whole race of men, though, alas ! but
few of them feel and lament it. I have felt it of late with
unusual weight; and it is the weight of it that now extorts
a discourse from me upon this subject. If the plague of
an ungrateful heart must cleave to us while in this world
of sin and imperfection, let us at least lament it; let us
bear witness against it; let us condemn ourselves for it;
and let us do all we can to suppress it in ourselves. I feel
myself, as it were, exasperated, and full of indignation
against it, and against myself, as guilty of it. And in the
bitterness of my spirit, I shall endeavour to expose it to
your view in its proper infernal colours, as an object of
horror and indignation.

None of us can flatter ourselves that we are in little or
no danger of this sin, when even so good and great a man
as Hezekiah did not escape the infection. In the memoirs
of his life, which are illustrious for piety, zeal for reforma-

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 653

tion, victory over his enemies, glory and importance at
home and abroad, this, alas ! is recorded of him, " That he
rendered not again to his divine Benefactor according to
the benefit done unto him; for his heart was lifted up,
therefore there was wrath upon him, and upon Judah and
Jerusalem."

Many had been the blessings and deliverances of this
good man's life. I shall only particularize two, recorded
in this chapter. The Assyrians had overrun a great part
of the country, and intended to lay siege to Jerusalem.
Their haughty monarch who had carried all before him,
and was grown insolent with success, sent Hezekiah a
blasphemous letter, to intimidate him and his people. He
profanely bullies and defies Hezekiah and his God to-
gether; and Rabshakeh, his messenger, comments upon
his master's letter in the same style of impiety and inso-
lence. But here observe the signal efficacy of prayer!
Hezekiah, Isaiah, and no doubt many other pious people
among the Jews, made their prayer to the God of Israel ;
and, as it were, complained to him of the threatenings and
profane blasphemy of the Assyrian monarch. Jehovah
hears, and works a miraculous deliverance for them. He
sends out an angel (one was sufficient), who destroyed in
one night, as we are elsewhere told, (2 Kings xix. 35,)
no less than a hundred fourscore and five thousand men;
which extensive slaughter, a Jewish tradition tells us, was
made by means of lightning, a very supposable and suffi-
cient cause. Sennacherib, with the thin remains of his
army, fled home inglorious; and his two sons assassinated
him at an idolatrous altar. Thus Jerusalem was freed
from danger, and the country rescued from slavery and the
ravages of war. Nay, we find from profane history, that
this dreadful blow proved fatal in the issue to the Assyrian
monarchy, which had oppressed the world so long; for

654 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS

upon this the Medes, and afterwards other nations, threw
off their submission; and the empire fell to pieces. Cer-
tainly so illustrious a deliverance as this, wrought imme-
diately by the divine hand, was a sufficient reason for
ardent gratitude.

Another deliverance followed upon this. Hezekiah
was sick unto death ; that is, his sickness was in its own
nature mortal, and would have been unto death, had it not
been for the miraculous interposition of Providence. But,
upon his prayer to God, he was recovered, and fifteen
years added to his life. . This also was great cause of grati-
tude. And we find it had this effect upon him, while the
sense of his deliverance was fresh upon his mind ; for in
his eucharistic song upon his recovery, we find these grate-
ful strains : The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as
I do this day : the father to the children shall make known
thy truth. The LORD was ready to save me : therefore
we will sing my songs to the stringed instruments all the
days of our life in the house of the LORD. But, alas !
those grateful impressions wore off in some time; and
pride, that uncreaturely temper, began to rise. He began
to think himself the favourite of heaven, in some degree, on
account of his own personal goodness. He indulged his
vanity in ostentatiously exposing his treasures to the Baby-
lonian messengers ; which was the instance of selfish pride
and ingratitude that seems here particularly referred to.

This pride and ingratitude passed not without evidences
of the divine indignation ; for we are told, therefore there
was wrath upon him, and upon Judah and Jerusalem. As
the crime was not peculiar to him, so neither is the pun-
ishment. Nations and individuals have suffered in this
manner from age to age ; and under the guilt of it we and
our country are now languishing.

In order to make you the more sensible of your ingrati-

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 655

tude towards your divine Benefactor, I shall give you a
brief view of his mercies towards you, and expose the
aggravated baseness of ingratitude under the reception of
so many mercies.

Mercy has poured in upon you upon all sides, and fol-
lowed you from the first commencement of your existence ;
rich, various, free, repeated, uninterrupted mercy. The
blessings of a body wonderfully and fearfully made, com-
plete in all its parts, and not monstrous in any : the bless-
ings of a rational, immortal soul, preserved in the exercise
of sound reason for so many years, amid all those acci-
dents that have shattered it in others, and capable of the
exalted pleasure of religion, and the everlasting enjoyment
of the blessed God, the Supreme Good : the blessing of a
large and spacious world, prepared and furnished for our
accommodation ; illuminated with an illustrious sun, and
the many luminaries of the sky : the earth enriched and
adorned with trees, vegetables, various sorts of grain, and
animals, for our support or convenience ; and the sea, a
medium of extensive trade, and an inexhaustible store of
fishes : the blessing of the early care of parents and friends,
to provide for us in the helpless days of infancy, and direct
or restrain us in the giddy, precipitant years of youth : the
blessing of being born in the adult age of the world, when
the improvements of art are carried to so high a degree of
perfection ; of being born, not among savages in a wilder-
ness, but in a humanized, civilized country ; not on the
burning, sandy deserts of the torrid zone, nor under the
frozen sky of Lapland or Iceland, but in a temperate cli-
mate, as favourable to the comfort and continuance of life
as most countries upon earth ; not in a barren soil, scarcely
affording provision of the coarsest sort for its inhabitants,
but in a land of unusual plenty, that has never felt the
severities of famine : the blessing of not being a race of

656 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HENIOUS

slaves under the tyranny of an arbitrary government, but
free-born Britons and Virginians in a land of liberty : these
birthright blessings are almost peculiar to us and our
nation. Let me enumerate also the blessing of a good
education; good, at least, when compared to the many
savage nations of the earth ; the blessing of health for
months and years; the blessing of raiment suited to the
various seasons of the year; the blessing of rain from
heaven, and fruitful seasons, of summer and winter, of seed-
time and harvest; the agreeable vicissitude of night and
day ; the refreshing repose of sleep, and the activity and
enjoyment of our waking hours, the numerous and refined
blessings of society, and the most endearing relations ; the
blessings included in the tender names of friend, husband
or wife, parent or child, brother or sister ; the blessings of
peace; peace in the midst of a peaceful country, which
has been our happy lot till of late years : or peace in the
midst of a ravaged, bleeding country, which is a more
distinguished and singular blessing, and which we now
enjoy, while many of our fellow-subjects feel a terrible
reverse ; blessings in every age of life ; in infancy, in youth,
in adult age, and in the decays of old age ; blessings by sea
and land, and in every country where we have resided; in
short, blessings as numerous as our moments, as long con-
tinued as our lives ; blessings personal and relative, public
and private ; for while we have the air to breathe in, the
earth to tread upon, or a drop of water to quench our
thirst, we must own we are not left destitute of blessings
from God. From God, I say, all these blessings originally
flow : and to him we are principally obliged for them.
Indeed, they are conveyed to us by means of our fellow-
creatures ; or they seem to be the spontaneous productions
of natural causes, acting according to the established laws
of nature. But then it was God, the Fountain of being

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 657

and of all good, that gave our fellow-creatures the disposi-
tion, the ability, and the opportunity of conveying these
blessings to us ; and it is the great God who is the Author
of those causes which spontaneously produce so many
blessings for our enjoyment, and of those laws of nature,
according to which they act. These are but channels,
channels cut by his hand ; and he is the source, the ocean
of blessings. Creatures are but the hands that distribute
his charity through a needy world ; but his is the store
from which they derive their supplies. On this account,
therefore, we should receive all these blessings as gifts from
God, and feel ourselves obliged to him, as the supreme,
original Benefactor. Besides, it is very probable to me,
that in order to bestow some of these blessings upon us by
means of natural causes, God may give these causes a
touch to turn them in our favour more than they would be
according to the established course of nature ; a touch so
efficacious as to answer the kind design : though so gentle
and agreeable to the established laws of nature, as not to
be perceivable, or to cast the system of nature into disor-
der. The blessings conveyed in this way are not only the
gifts of his hand, but the gifts of his immediate hand.

Therefore let God be acknowledged the supreme, the
original Benefactor of the world, and the proper Author
of all our blessings ; and let all his creatures, in the height
of their benevolence and usefulness, own that they are but
the distributers of his alms, or the instruments of conveying
the gifts of his hand. Let us acknowledge the light of yon-
der sun, the breath that now heaves our lungs, and fans the
vital flame, the growing plenty that is now bursting its way
through the clods of earth, the water that bubbles up in
springs, that flows in streams and rivers, or rolls at large
in the ocean ; let us own, I say, that all these are the boun-
ties of his hand, who supplies with good the various ranks

VOL. I.— 83

658 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS

of being, as high as the most exalted angel, and as
low as the young ravens, and the grass of the field.
Let him stand as the acknowledged Benefactor of the
universe to inflame the gratitude of all to him, or to
array in the crimson colours of aggravated guilt the ingrati-
tude of those sordid, stupid wretches, who still continue
unthankful.

The positive blessings I have briefly enumerated, have
some of them been interrupted at times; but even the in-
terruption seemed only intended to make way for some
deliverance ; a deliverance that reinstated us in the posses-
sion of our former blessings with a new and stronger relish,
and taught us, or at least was adapted to teach us, some
useful lessons, which we were not likely to learn, had not
our enjoyment been a while suspended. This very hour
let us turn our eyes backward, and take a review of a
length of ten, twenty, forty, or sixty years ; and what a
series of deliverances rise upon us ! Deliverances from
the many dangers of childhood, by which many have lost
their limbs, and many their lives ; deliverances from many
threatening and fatal accidents ; deliverances from exquisite
pains, and from dangerous diseases; deliverances from the
gates of death, and the mouth of the grave ; and deliver-
ances for yourselves, and for your dear families and friends !
When sickness, like a destroying angel, has entered your
neighbourhood, and made extensive havoc and desolation
around you, you and yours have escaped the infection,
while you were every day in anxious expectation of the
dreadful visit, and trembling at the dubious fate of some
dear relative or your own ; or if it has entered your houses,
like a messenger of death, it has not committed its usual
ravages in them. Or if it has torn from your hearts one
or more members of your family, still you have some left,
or perhaps some new members added to make up the loss.

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 659

When you have been in deep distress, and covered with
the most tremendous glooms, deliverance has dawned in
the most seasonable hour, and light and joy have succeeded
to nights of darkness and melancholy. In short, your
deliverances have been endless and innumerable. You
appear this day so many monuments of delivering good-
ness. You have also shared in the deliverances wrought
for your country and nation in former and latter times :
deliverances from the open violences and clandestine plots
and insurrections of enemies abroad, and traitors and rebels
at home : deliverances from the united efforts of both, to
subvert the British Constitution, and to enslave free-born
Britons to civil or ecclesiastical tyranny, or a medley of
both; and deliverances from drought, and the threatening
appearances of famine, which we have so lately experienced
in these parts; and yet they are long enough past to be
generally forgotten !

In these instances of deliverances, as well as in the
former, of positive blessings, let the great God be ac-
knowledged the original efficient, whatever creatures he is
pleased to make use of as his instruments. Fortuitous
accidents are under his direction ; and necessary causes
are subject to his control. Diseases are his servants, his
soldiers; and he sends them out, or recalls them according
to his pleasure.

And now mention the benefactor if you can, to whom
you are a thousandth part so much obliged as to this
Benefactor. What a profusion of blessings and deliver-
ances has the Almighty made you a subject of! And oh!
what obligations of gratitude do such favours lay upon
you ! What ardent love, what sincere thanksgiving, what
affectionate duty do they require of you ! These are the
cords of love, the bonds of a man, wherewith he would
draw you to obedience.

660 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HENIOUS

Dare you now make the inquiry, What returns has
this divine Benefactor received from you for all this good-
ness ? Alas ! the discovery which this inquiry will make,
may convict, shock, confound, and mortify us all ; for we
are all, in a prodigious degree, though some much more
than others, guilty in this respect, guilty of the vilest in-
gratitude. Alas ! are there not many of you that do not
return to God the gratitude of a dog to his master?
That brute animal who receives but crumbs and blows
from you, will welcome you home with a thousand fond
and obliging motions. The very dull ox you fodder,
knows his owner. But oh ! the more than brutal ingrati-
tude of reasonable creatures ! Some of you, perhaps, do
not so much as acknowledge the agency of Providence in
these enjoyments; but, affecting a very unphilosophical
infidelity under the name of philosophy, you make natural
causes the authors of all good to you, without the agency
of the first Mover of all the springs of nature. Others
of you, who may be orthodox in your faith as to this
point, yet are practical infidels, the most absurd and incon-
sistent sort in the world ; that is, while you certainly ac-
knowledge, and speculatively believe the agency of Provi-
dence in these things, yet you live as if there were no
such thing : you live thoughtless of the divine Benefactor,
and disobedient to him for days and years together. The
very mercies he bestows upon you, you abuse to his dis-
honour, by making them occasions of sin. Do not your
consciences now convict you of that monster sin, ingrati-
tude, the most base, unnatural, and yet indulged ingrati-
tude? How do you resent it, if one whom you have
deeply obliged should prove ungrateful, and use you ill ?
But it is impossible any one of your fellow-creatures should
be guilty of such enormous ingratitude towards you as you
are guilty of towards God ; because it is impossible any

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 661

one of them should be so strongly obliged to you as you
are to him.

Ye children of God, his peculiar favourites, whose hearts
are capable of, and do actually feel some generous sensa-
tions of gratitude, what do you think of your conduct
towards such a Benefactor? I speak particularly to you,
because you are most likely to feel what I say. Have
you rendered again to your God according to the benefits
done you? Oh! are you not mortified, and shocked to
reflect upon your ingratitude, your sordid, monstrous in-
gratitude? Do you not abhor yourselves because you
were capable of such base conduct? From you I expect
such a generous resentment. But, as to others, they are
dead in trespasses and sins, dead toward God, and there-
fore it is no wonder if they are dead to all penitential in-
genuous relentings for their ingratitude.

But if all this does not suffice to make you sensible of
your enormous guilt in this particular, let me lay before
you an inventory of still richer blessings. At the head
of this stands Jesus Christ, the unspeakable gift of God.
"God so loved the world, (hear it, men and angels, with
grateful wonder !) that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life." John iii. 16. " God sent not his Son
into the world to condemn the world, but that the world
through him, might be saved." John iii. 17. The com-
forts of this life alone would be a very inadequate pro-
vision for creatures who are to exist for ever in another ;
for what are sixty or seventy years in the long duration
of an immortal being ! But in the unsearchable riches of
Christ are contained the most ample provisions, for your
immortal state. Jesus Christ is such a gift as draws all
other gifts after it ; for so the apostle argues, " He that
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all,

662 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HENIOUS

how shall he not with him also freely give us all things."
Rom. viii. 32. And the purposes for which he gave this
gift, render it the more astonishing. He gave him not
only to rule us by his power, but to purchase us with the
blood of his heart. He gave him up to death, even the
death of the cross. In consequence of which an economy
of grace, a ministry of reconciliation, is set up in our
guilty world. Various means are appointed, and various
endeavours are used to save you, perishing sinners. For
your salvation Jesus now intercedes in his native heaven,
at the right hand of God. For your salvation the Holy
Spirit strives with you ; conscience admonishes you ; Pro-
vidence draws you by blessings, and drives you by chas-
tisements; angels minister to you; Bibles are put into
your hands ; ministers persuade you ; friends advise you ;
and thousands of saints pray for you. For this end,
prayer, preaching, baptism, and the Lord's supper, and a
great variety of means of grace, are instituted. For this
end, heaven is prepared and furnished with many man-
sions ; the pearly gates open, and dart their splendours
from afar to attract our eyes ; and things which the eye,
which has seen so many things, had never seen ; which
the ear, that has had still more extensive intelligence, had
never heard; nor the heart of man, which is even un-
bounded in its conceptions, had never conceived, are
brought to light by the gospel. Nay, for this purpose,
your salvation, Sinai thunders, hell roars and throws its
devouring flames, even to warn a stupid world not to
plunge themselves into that place of torment. In short,
the kind designs of redeeming love run through the whole
economy of Providence towards our world. Heaven and
earth, and, in the sense mentioned, hell itself, are trying to
save you. The strongholds of sin and Satan, in which
you are held prisoners, are attacked in kindness to you

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 663

from all quarters. What beneficent efforts, what heroic
exploits of divine goodness are these ! And, blessed be
God, these efforts are not in vain.

The celestial regions are fast peopling, though, alas!
not so fast as the land of darkness, with numerous colo-
nies from our guilty globe. Even in these dregs of time,
when iniquity abounds, and the love of many waxes cold,
Jesus is gaining many hearts and saving many souls, in
the various apartments of his church. Though you and
thousands more should be left, and continue to neglect, yet
such excellencies shall not want admirers, such a Physician
shall not want employ in our dying world. No, "he shall
see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied; and
the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand." Isa.
liii. 11. And I doubt not but there are some among you
who are the trophies of his victorious love — of his victo-
rious love, I say ; for it is by the force of love he sweetly
conquers.

Now you, my brethren, are the subjects of this admin-
istration of grace; with you, these means are used for
your salvation ; to you Jesus is offered as a Saviour ; and
heaven and earth are striving to lodge you safe in his
arms. You should not rejoice in the wants of others ;
but certainly it may make you the more sensible of your
peculiar obligations, to reflect that your lot, in this respect,
is singular. It is but a very small part of mankind that
enjoy these great advantages for a happy immortality.
You live under the gospel, whilst the most of the nations
of the earth are sunk in heathen idolatry, groaning under
Popish tyranny, seduced by Mahometan imposture, or
hardened' in Jewish infidelity.

And what peculiar obligations of gratitude result from
such peculiar, distinguishing favours? Men have obliged
you, and you feel the obligation. But can men, can

664 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS

angels, can the whole created universe bestow such gifts
upon you, and make such provisions for you, as those
which have been mentioned ? Gifts of infinite value, dear
to the Giver; provisions for an everlasting state; an ever-
lasting state of as complete happiness as your nature, in
its highest improvements, is capable of. These are favours
worthy of God; favours that bespeak him God. And
must he not, then, be the object of your supreme gratitude I
Can any thing in the world be more reasonable ]

And yet — hear, oh earth, with horror; be astonished,
O ye heavens, at this: be ye horribly afraid! how little
gratitude does God receive from our world after all !
How little gratitude from you, on whom these favours
are showered down with distinguished profusion ! Do
not many of you neglect the unspeakable gift of God,
Jesus Christ, as well as that salvation which he bought
with his blood? Do you not ungratefully neglect the
means of your salvation, and resist the generous efforts
that are used, from all quarters, to save you ! Oh !
the mountainous load of ingratitude that lies upon you!
enough to sink the whole world into the depth of hell.

But I must now address such of you, who are still more
deeply obliged to your divine Benefactor, and whose in-
gratitude therefore is black and horrid; I mean such of
you who have not only shared in the blessings and de-
liverances of life, and lived under the advantages of a dis-
pensation of grace, but have experimentally known the
love of God to your souls in a manner peculiar to your-
selves, and are actually entitled to all the unknown bless-
ings prepared for those that love him. If I am so happy
as to belong to your number, I am sure I am so unhappy
as to share deeply with you in the guilt, the black guilt
of ingratitude. When you were dead in trespasses and
sins, God quickened you, out of his great love wherewith

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 665

he loved you. When you were rushing on towards de-
struction, in the enchanting paths of sin, he checked your
mad career, and turned your faces heavenward. When
you were sunk into sorrows, borne down with a sense of
guilt, and trembling every moment with the fears of imme-
diate execution, he relieved you, led you to Jesus, and, as
it were, lodged you safe in his arms. When dismal glooms
have again gathered upon your minds, and overwhelming
fears rushed again upon you like a deluge, he has relieved
you again by leading you to the same almighty and ever-
constant Saviour. When your graces and virtues have
withered in the absence of the Sun of righteousness, he
has again risen upon you with healing in his wings, and
revived your languishing souls. He has shed abroad his
love in your hearts, which has made this wretched wilder-
ness a paradise to you. He has, at times, afforded you,
as you humbly hoped, joy and peace in believing; yea, even
caused you to rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of
glory. He has met you in your retirements, and allowed
you to converse with him in his ordinances, with the heart
of a friend. He has, as it were, unlocked his peculiar
treasures to enrich you, and given you an unshaken title
to the most glorious inheritance of the saints in light. He
has made you his own, his own in a peculiar sense : his
people, his friends, his children. You are indeed his
favourites: you were even so, long before time began.
He loved you with an everlasting love, therefore with
loving kindness has he drawn you; and having loved you
once, he will love you always, and he will continue in his
love to all eternity. Neither life, nor death, things pre-
sent, nor things to come, shall ever be able to separate
you from his love. Rom. viii. 38, 39. His love to you is
an unbounded ocean, that spreads over eternity, and makes
it, as it were, the channel of the ocean of your happiness.

VOL. I.— 84

666 INGRATITUDE TO GOD AN HEINOUS

In you he intends to show to all worlds what glorious
creatures he can form of the dust, and of the polluted
fragments of degenerate human nature. What is all the
profession of kings to their favourites, what are all the
benefactions of creatures, nay, what are all the bounties
of the divine hand itself within the compass of time, when
compared to these astonishing, unparalleled, immortal, in-
finite, God-like favours ? They all dwindle into obscurity,
like the stars of night in the blaze of noon.

And now I am almost afraid to turn your thoughts to
inquire, what return you have made for all these favours,
lest you should not be able to bear the shock. You know
you have a thousand times repeated Hezekiah's offence.
I need not be particular. Your conscience accuses you,
and points out the particulars; and I shall only join the
cry of conscience against you. Oh ! the ingratitude !
Oh! the base, vile, unnatural, horrid, unprecedented in-
gratitude! From you your God might have expected
better things; from you, whom he has so peculiarly, so in-
finitely obliged, and whose hearts he has made capable of
generous sensations. But oh! the shocking, horrid in-
gratitude ! Let our hearts burst into a flood of sorrows
o

at the thought. They may be justly too full to allow us
to speak much upon it; but, oh! they can never be too
full of shame, confusion, and tender relentings for the
crime. Methinks the thought must break the hardest
heart among us.

Let me now add a consideration, that gives an astonish-
ing emphasis to all that has been said. All this profusion
of mercy, personal and relative, temporal and spiritual, is
bestowed upon creatures that deserve not the least mercy;
creatures that deserve to be stripped naked of every
mercy; nay, that deserve to be made miserable in time
and eternity; creatures that deserve not to breathe this

BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 667

vital air, to tread the ground, or drink the stream that runs
waste through the wilderness, much less to enjoy all the
blessings which the infinite merit of Jesus could purchase,
or the infinite goodness of God can bestow; creatures that
are so far from deserving to be delivered from the calami-
ties of life, that they deserve to have them all heightened
and multiplied, till they convey them to the more intoler-
able punishments of hell; creatures that are so far from
making adequate returns, that they are perpetually offend-
ing their God to his face; and every day receiving bless-
ings from him, and every day sinning against him. Oh!
astonishing! most astonishing! This wonder is pointed
out by Jesus Christ himself, who best knows what is truly
marvellous. The Mgst High, says he, "is kind to the
unthankful and to the evil." Luke vi. 35. " Your heavenly
Father maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good,
and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." Matt. v. 45.

It need afford you no surprise, if my subject so over-
whelms me, as to disable me from making a formal appli-
cation of it. I leave you to your own thoughts upon it.
And I am apt to think they will constrain you to cry out
in a consternation with me, "Oh! the amazing, horrid,
base, unprecedented ingratitude of man ! and oh ! the
amazing, free, rich, overflowing, infinite, unprecedented
goodness of God ! Let these two miracles be the wonder
of the whole universe !"

One prayer, and I have done. May our divine Bene-
factor, among his other blessings, bestow upon us that of a
thankful heart, and enable us to give sincere, fervent, and
perpetual praise to his name, through Jesus Christ, his un-
speakable gift! Amen.

END OF VOL. I.

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