Sermons, on the public means of grace : the fasts and festivals of the church ; on scripture characters ; and various practical subjects

4

THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES

SER3IONS,

ON THE

PUBLIC MEANS OF GRACE;

THE

FASTS AND FESTIVALS OF THE CHURCH;

ON

SCRIPTLRE CHARACTERS,

AND

Various Practical Subjects.

BythelateRiGHTREv.THEOOOREDEHON,D.D

RECTOR OF ST. MICHAELS CIII'RCH, CHARLESTON ;

Auii OUbop of the Prutenant Epi5co(»l Church in the Dioccss of Soutb-CaroUna.

IN TIVO VOLUMES.

VOL. ir.

CHARLESTON:

PUBLISHED BY E. THAYER,

AT HIS TBEOLOGICAL BOOK-STORE, BROAD-STREET.

A. E. Miller, Printer.
1821.

Vistrict of South-Carolina, to wil:

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"Sermons, on the Public Means of (imco; the Fasts and I'c«tl»«l« of tb* Church ; on Srrl^
ture Characters and Variims rrnctical SubjecU. Dy tlir late Richt Re». Tl>ro«lorc r»rb«n,
D. D. Rector of St. Michael's Church, Charloslon -, ami Ili>hop of th« ProtMUal Epifoofml
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O" The profits arising from the sale of this edition, will be applied to the \ae of the Protcftajit
Episcopal Society for the Advancement of Christianiiy in Soutli-CaroUlM.

^^ -7 7

V. Z

CONTENTS OF VOL. U.

FACE

SERMOX XLIV.
ON EASTER-DAY.

Acts, iv. 33.

And with sreat power cave the Apostles witness of
the re^rrcction of the Lord JesuSj - 1

SEKxMON XLV.

ON EASTER-DAY.

I THKSSALOiriAAS, iv. 14.

Jf ICC believe that Jesus died and rose again, even
[ so them, also, icho sleep in JesuSj will God

bring with hitn, - - - 12

ofov>:j>::^

tV CONTENTS.

PAGE

SERMON XLVI.

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

CoLOSSlA5S, ii. 10.

And ye are complete in him, - - 19

SERMON XLVII.

ON THE ASCENSION.
Hebrbtcsi is- 24.

For Christ is not entered into the hohj places made
ivith hands, which are the f mires of the true;
but into heaven itself now to appear in the
presence of God for us, - 30

SERMON XLVI 1 1.

ON THE ASCENSION.

Hebrews," ii. 9.

We see Jesus, icho ivas made a little lower than
the angels for the suffering of death, crowned
with joy and honour, - - - 38

CONTENTS. V

PAGE

SERMONS XLIX, L.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

John, iv. 14.

But the wntpf that I shall give him^ shall be in
him a well of watery springing up into everlast-
ing life, - - - - 49, 60

SERMON LI.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

I Thesialoniars, v. 19.

Quench not the Spirit, - - - 71

SERMON LII.
ON WHITSUNDAY.

Acts, ii 33.

Tlierefore, bring hi the rio^hf hand of God exalted,
and having received of the Feather the promise
of the Hohj Ghost, he hath shed forth this,
which ye now see and hear, - - 81

SERMON LIII.
ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

Jdde, 3.

That ye should earnestly contend for the faith,
which was once delivered unto the Saints, - 90

VI CONTENTS.

TAGE

SERMON LIV.

ON TRLNITY SUNDAY.

I John, v. 7.

lliere are three that hear record in heaven^ the
Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost; and
these three are one, - - 101

SERMON LV.

ON THE FESTIVAL OF ST. MICHAEL AND ALL
ANGELS.

Hebrews, i. 14.

Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister for them who shall be heirs of salva-
tion? - - - - 110

SERMON LVI.

ON THE FESTIVAL OF ALL SAINTS.

Revelations, vii. 9. 13 — 18.

After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude,
ichich no man could mimher, of all nations, and
kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before
the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed icith
white robes, and palms in their hands. And one
of the elders answered, saying unto me, What
are these which are arrayed in white robes, and
whence mme they? And I said unto him. Sir,
thou knowest. And he said to me. These are

CONTENTS. Vll

PAGE

tlipy which came out of great tribulation, and
have washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they
before the throne of God, and serve him day and
night in his temple ; and He that sitteth on the
throne shall dwell among them. They shall
hunger no more, nn titer thirst any more; nei-
ther shall the sun li^ht on them, nor any heat.
For the Lamb which is in the midst of the
throne shall feed them, and shall lead ihem unto
licing fountains of waters; and God shall wipe
away all tears from their eyes, - 122

SERMON LVII. 9

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

Acts, ix. 19—21.

Then was Saul certain days with the disciples
which were at Damascus. And straightway he
preached Christ in the synagogues, that he is the
Son of God. But all that heard him were
amazed, and said; fs not this he that destroyed
them which called on this name ? - 1 32

SERMON LVIII.
ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
St. Matthew, xi. 11. ^

Ferily I say unto you, among them that are born
of women, there hath not risen a greater than
John the Baptist, _ _ . I4f;

Viii CONTENTS.

rAQE

SERMONS LIX, LX.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

St. Matthew, xvi. 17.

And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed
art thou, Simon Bar-jona; for flesh and blojd
hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father
ivhich is in heaven, - - 1<35, 164

SERMON LXI.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW.

Matthew, ix. 'J.

And as Jesus passed forth from theiiee, he saiD a
man, named Matthnv, sittins^ at the receipt of
custom; and he saith unto him, Follow me.
And he arose, and followed him, - 173

SERMON LXI I.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGE-

LIST.

St. Jobs, xiii. 28.

Now there ivas leaning on Jcsus^ bosom, one of his
disciples whom Jesus loved, - - 1 ^?

CONTENTS. IX

SERMONS LXIII, LXIV.

ON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

II rETF.R, ri. 15.

Balftmn, the son of Bosoi\ vho loved the icages of
unrighteousness^ - - 193. 202

I

SERMON LXV.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

II Samuel, xvi 15.

ft

And Absalom, and all the people the men of Israel,
same to Jerusalem, and Aliithophel tvitli him, 209

SERMON LXVI.
ON THE CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPL\N EUNUCH.

Acts, viii. 39.

He went on his way rejoicing, - - 220

VOL. II. b

CONTENTS.

PAGE

SERMON LXVII.

ON THE CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

Acts, x. 31.

Cornelius, thy prajfer is hfurd. and thine alms are
had in remembrance in the sisht of God, 228

SEiniON LXVIII.

DELIVERED AT THE CONSECRATION OF TRINITY
CHURCH, COLUMBIA.

I KI5GS, viii. (>6.

On the eighth day, he smi the ptoplc away. And
they blessed the kins, and went unto flirir tents
joyful and iild.d of heart, fur (dl the i:()<Klness
that ti:e Lord had done for Dartd his serrant,
and for Israel his people, - - -.'^9

SERMON LXIX.

DELIVERED ON THE 1 E \ST OF THE EIMI'HANV
1813; BEING THE THIKD ANNIVERS\RV OF THE
"PllOTESTVNT EPISCOPAL SOCIETY FOF? THE
ADVANCEMENT OF CHRISTIANITY IN bOUTH-CA-
ROLINA."

Matthew, ii. 11.

And when they had opened their treasures, they
presented unto him gifis; gold, and frankin-
cense, and myrrh, _ _ _ 252

CONTENTS. XI

PAGE

SERMON LXX.

FOR A COLLECTION IN AID OF THE FUNDS OF THE
« PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SOriRTY FOR THfi
ADVANCEMENT OF CHKISTIANITY IN SOUTH-
CAROLINA."

Nehemiaii, xiii. 14.

Rrmemher me, O my Goih conccrnins!; this, and
wipe not out mi/ i[oo(l deeds that I have done,
for the house of my God, and for the ojjices
thereof, . - - - 265

SERMON LXXI.

PUBLIC FAST.

Jeremiah, xviii. 7, 8.

At wh^t instant I shall speak eoncernin^ a nation,
and concerning a kini!;dom, to pluck up, and
to pull doirn, and to destroy it; if that na-
tion, au'ainst whom I have pronounced, turn
from their evil, I ivill repent of the evil that I
thought to do unto them, - - 279

SERMON LXXIl.

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

Psalm, c. 4.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into
his courts with praise; be thankful unto him,
and bless his name, - - ~ 292

XU CONTENTS.

PAGE

SERMON LXXIII.

ON DEATH.

Job, vii. 16.

/ would not live alway^ _ . - 303

SERMON LXXIV.

ON DEATH.
Isaiah, hiv. 6.

We all do fade as a leaf, - - 315

ser:\ion lxxv.

ON DEATH.

Isaiah, \\. 6, 7, 8.

The voice said, Cry. And lie said, IVhat shall I
cry? All flesh is grass ; and all (he froodlincss
thereof is as the flower of the field. The f^rass
ivithereth; the flower fadrth; brrausc the spirit
of the Lord hluweth upon it. Surely, the people
is grass. The grass wither eth, the flower fad-
eth; but the word of our God shall stxind for
ever, - - - . _ 32 1

CONTENTS. XIU

FA<}£

SERMON LXXVI.

ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN.

M Sami-el, xii. 22, 23.

While the child iras pet alive, I fasted a7}d wept;
for I said, Who can tell uJiether God will be
gracious to me, that the child ma\i live? But
now he 'is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can
I hrinu; him back again? I shall go to him,
but he shall not retain to me, - - 332

SERMON LXXVII.

A FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

PsAiM xxiii. 4.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the sha-
dow of death, I will far no evil; for thou art
loith me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me, 340

ser:mon Lxxviii.

A FUNERAL DISCOURSE.
Job, sixv. 14.

Althoush thou sayest thou shall not see him, yet
Judgement is before him; therefore trust thou in
him, ----- 35'.

Xiv CONTENTS.

PAGE

SERMON LXXIX.
ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE.

St. John, six. 41.

There was a garden, and in the garden, a new
sepulchre, _ . - - 363

SERMON LXXX.

ON THE NECESSITY OF SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN
RELIGION.

John, vi. 67, 68.

Then said Jesus unto the twelve, JViU ]ic also go

away? Thai Simon Peter answered him,

Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the

words of eternal life, - - - ^1\

SERMON LXXXI.

ON THE CHRISTIAN EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

Exodus, ii. 9.

Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I
ivill give thee thy wages, - - 380

SERMON LXXXII.

SOLICITUDE FOR THE PROSPERITY OF RELIGION.

I Samuel, i%". 13.

For his heart trembled for the Ark of God, 39V

CONTENTS. XV

PAGE

SERMON LXXXIII.

ON FAMILY WORSHIP.

Job, i. 5

A}id it was so, ulipu the days of their feasting
were sone ahont, that Job sent and sanctified
them, and rose vp early in the morning, and
ojf/ red burnt offerings according to the number
of them all; for Job said, It may be that my
sons have sinned, and cursed God in their
hearts. Thus did Job continually , - 403

SERMON LXXXIV.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

St. Ll'ke, X, 42.

But one thing is needful, - - 41 ]

SERMON LXXXV.

THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

Like, xiii. 18, 19.

Then said he, Unto what is the Jdnsdom of God
like; and whereunto shall /resemble it? It is
like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took
and cast into his garden; and ii grew, and
waved a great tree; and the fowls of the air
lodged in the branches oj^ it, - - 422

SERMON LXXXVI.

COME TO JESUS OF NAZARETH AND BE HEALED.

St. Lcee, wiii. 37.

And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by, 433

Xvi CONTENTS.

PAOE

SERMON LXXXVII.

THE RICH AND THE GRE\T, BEGGING THE BODY
OF JESUS.

Matthew, xxvij. 58.

He went to Pilate^ and begged the body of Jesus^ 441
SERMON LXXXVIII.

ON THE COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD.

Revelation, iv. 3.

And there was a rainbow round about the throne^
in sight like unto an emerald, - - 449

SERMON LXXXIX.

ON THE DANGERS OF YOUTH.

pROvr.nBS, vii. 7.

/ discerned among the youths, a young man void
of understanding, _ _ _ 457

SERMON XC.

ON THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOR IN WINTER.

St. Mark, xiii. IS.

Pray ye that your flight be not in the winter, 467

SERMONS.

SERMON XLIV.

ON EASTER-DAT.

Acts, iv. 33.

And with great power gave the Apostles witness of the
resmrection of the Lord Jesus.

HAT! the Apostles of Him, whom, in the week
past, we have seen abased, cruciiied, and consigned to
the mansions of the dead, do any thing among the
Jews "with great power I" Those Apostles, who, but
lately, when their Master was arrested, deserted and
denied him; who, at his death, trembling with fear and
overwhelmed with despair, shrunk away into conceal-
ment, say any thing in Judea, concerning the Lord
Jesus " with great power!" Surely, something of an
extraordinary nature has happened ; something great
has occurred, to give them boldness, and success!
VOL. ir, 1

2 ON EASTER-DAT.

Great, indeed ! An event took place, wliich it be-
comes us, this morning, with grateful remembrance to
review. We will, then, consider the various senses in
which it was with " great pow er" testified by the
Apostles.

The enemies of our blessed Lord hnd, as they
thought, accomplished their desire of his destruction.
They had brought him to the cross. They had pierced
his heart with a spear. They had delivered him to be
buried. Recollecting his dcchiration, tiint he would
rise from the dead the third day, and dtt«'rmined to
have his body to produce after that period should
have elapsed, they placed upon the stone of the sepul-
chre, that seal, whicli it was death to break ; and
stationed before it a band of tlie Roman soldiers, who,
at the time of the feast, were on duty at Jerusalem.
But "why do the jieathen rage, and the people imagine
a vain thing r" " lie that sitteth in the heavens shall
Jaugh them to scorn; the Lord shall have them in
derision." No sooner did the morn of the third day
begin to dawn, than the Saviour bade death resign his
sceptre. Having been sul)ject to it, awhile, he now
brake it; and, leaving the monarch of the tomb stript
of his i)owcr, in triinnphant majesty left his domain.
Do you ask, w ho rolled away the stone from the sepul-
chre? What obstacle was that to Him who burst the
strong fetters of death ? Do you ask, where were the
guards? Appalled, they fell, or tied. Do you ask,
who were the spectators of the sublime scene? God,
who watched for this triumph of his Son, and the
multitude of the heavenly hosts, who had not ceased,
since he was there dei)osited, with wondering expec-
tation to observe the sepulelne. Earlier in the morn
he rose, than any of his earthly friends; for when
they, whom their superior tenderness and constancy,
determined to embalm his body, came, early as they
came, he was gone. Behold, two of the heavenly
hosts sat at the sepulchre; "their countenances like

ON EA9TER-DAY. 3

lightning, and their raiment white as snow." Unwil-
ling to burst unexpectedly upon his disciples in person,
and overwhelm them with surprise and fear, and
choosing that, as his incarnation, so, also, his rising
from the dead, should iiave the attestation of beings
from the heavenly world, he had commissioned these
ministering spirits, to honour the amiable women who
had followed him through his Passion, and who, he
knew, would presently come to embalm his remains,
with the first tidings of his resurrection. Accordingly,
the angels addressed to them the most joyful truth,
that ever entered human ears: " Why seek ye the
living among the dead P He is not here, for he is
risen, as he said. Come see the place, where the
Lord lay. And go quickly and tell his disciples, that
he is risen from the dead; and behold, he gocth be-
fore you into Galilee, there shall ye see him." They
went. They saw. They believed. " And with great
power gave the Apostles witness of the resurrection of
the Lord Jesus."

This brings us to consider, as was proposed, in
what this great power consisted.

In the first place, their testimony was " with great
power" by reason of the great number of witnesses.
It was not one, nor two, nor a few individuals, who
attested the resurrection. Had the story been an im-
posture, a small number only would have combined
for its propagation. But here were more than were
necessary, for the fabrication of a cheat, and too many
to keep it long a secret. " He was seen of Cephas,
then of the twelve ; after that, of above five hundred
brethren at once." He was seen of the women, and
of the two disciples who journeyed to Emmaus; and
last of all, he was seen of Paul, with the most extra-
ordinary manifestations of his glory and power.
These could not have been all deceived. Many of
them, at first, were criminally incredulous. They,
however, saw him at several times, in different places,

4 ON EASTER-DAY.

under various circumstances. They ate, and drank,
and conversed with him. They heard liim, and they
handled him. They saw in his hands the print of the
nails, and laid their fingers upon the wound in his
side, and in demonstration that it was He, "the Son of
God with power," he commanded for them, on the sea
shore, a miraculous draught of fishes. His appear-
ance among them was not short, nor obscure; but he
continued with them coming in, and going out, for the
space of " forty days," arranging with them the con-
duct to be pursued, with regard to his Church, the
kingdom which he was now to establish in the world.
Will it be said, that his appearance should have been
tmiversal. Surely, when God has given sufficient evi-
dence of a truth, which he requires men to believe,
he is not obliged to give them more. With regard to
the world in general, if none should believe but those
who ssw, Christ must have dwelt always, and every
where, on the earth; and there would have been no
opportunity for the superior blessedness of their faith,
who, though " they have not seen, have," nevertheless,
on the word of God, " believed." And with regard to
the Jews, as they believed not " Moses and the Pro-
phets," we have no ground of assurance that the veil
would have been taken from tiieir hearts, though " one
rose from the dead." " Unto witnesses chosen before
of God," was Jesus showed alive after his resurrection
*'by many infallible i)roofs." Their testimony was
powerful in that there were an host of them, and thai
it was of the fullest and most explicit kind.

How far they were credible will appear, if we con-
sider, in the second place, that the Apostles' evidence
was "with great power," by reason of their well
known character. They were known to be poor,
timid, and friendless; and, therefore, unlikely to de-
vise, and unable to execute, a scheme for imposing a
falsehood of this nature upon the world. They were
persons who aspired to no eminence; who slighted

ON EASTER-DAY. 6

all honours and emoluments, and who had neither the
pride, the ambition, nor the prospects, by which impos-
tors are animated. Above ail, they were proverbial
for integrity in principle and conduct. Simplicity,
honesty, and rectitude, were the characteristics of the
followers of the Nazarene. Such qualities, would
render any evidence respectable. Such witnesses,
could not but speak with " power." Hence it was,
that their preaching commanded such attention, and
obtained such success. Will it be said that, their
simplicity exposed them to delusion. There were
among them Peter, sufliciently acute; and Thomas,
sufficiently scrupulous. Will it be said that, they had
been the followers of Christ, and were interested in
the success of this story. There was au»ong them Paul,
that Paul, who had been the implacable adversary of
Jesus. And, alas! in what way could the story ad-
vance the interest of any of them, if Jesus was not
risen? It would have been much more natural, as
well as reasonable, for them, as, indeed, they did after
the crucifixion, to have shrunk from the public view.
There was not, in truth, the shadow of any thing in
these chosen witnesses, upon which suspicion could
fasten his criminating eye. They had every moral
quality which could recommend them ; and if the cha-
racter of a witness, can give weight to his testimon}',
the Apostles of our Lord were, in the highest degree,
entitled to be believed.

Once more. Their evidence had all the "great
power," which is ever on the side of truth, in that
there was among them consistence, boldness, and cor-
respondent behaviour. They were perfectly consist-
ent. Numerous as were the testifiers of the Saviour's
resurrection, there were no divisions, no contradic-
tions, no separate interests; and if there were som«
little variations in their narratives, respecting minute
matters, these were reconcileable, and tend rather to
confirm their accounts, ])y evidencing that, there had

6 ON EASTER-DAY.

been na~combination. In the main, as might be ex-
pected of men, who were affected w ith a truth so
novel, so solemn, and so simple, they were " of one
heart and one mind." They were, moreover, un-
daunted. Though before, mortified with disappoint-
ment, and shaking with terror, tliey shunned even tlie
light, they now Avure re-c^j^imatcd. They openly and
eagerly proclaimed, that He who had been crucified,
was risen from the dead. In the face of the High
Priest, and rulers and scribes, they asserted that God
had made him whom tlioy had killcil, '' both Lord and
Christ." In the temple, and in the synagogues, be-
fore kings and governors, they testified the fact. The
scourge was lifted; but their lips did not qui\er.
Crosses were shown as prepared for them, and they
replied, " the Lord is risen." There was also cor-
respondent behaviour. They look those steps, to
which the doctrine of the resurrection naturally led.
They exhibited that life, w hich it necessarily enforced.
They were animated with that joy, which it was cal-
culated to inspire. They manifested that anxiety and
diligence, to maintain and propagate the religion of
their Lord, which it could not fail to produce. When
conmianded to abandon it, they boldly refused, and
refused again; and refused under the most aggravated
tortures, and most terrifying threats. If there were
no other alternative, but either life, or their testimony
to the truth of the resurrection, must be relinquished,
they did not hesitate which to resign; but sealed their
testimony with their blood ; rejoicing, with a humility
and devotion, which consummated the sincerity of
their evidence, " that they w ere counted worthy to
suffer for his name." It needed not arguments to
show that, this was tlie conduct of men, who were
fully convinced of what they maintained. They gave
w itness of the resurrection w ith that " great power,"
Avhicli is attendant only on truth. Their behaviour
was such, as it necessarily would be, if they wer«

ON EASTER-DAT. 7

assured that their Master was risen from the dead;
and it was such, as nothina but this assurance, could
have instigated and sustained.

Further. The witness which the Apostles gave of
the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, was " with great
power," in that they brought to their support, the
types and s-taLUtcs, which God had before ordained as
shadows of this great thing to come, and the words
which he had spoken " by the mouth of his holy Pro-
phets, who had been since the world began." They
opened the Scriptures, the oracles of truth, which
God had committed unto the Jews, and alleged from
them that, *' Christ must needs have suffered, and"
that he should " rise from the dead the third day."
They pointed to the annual expiatory sacrifice, and to
the High Priest entering with its blood into the Holy
of Holies; and thence inferred, that with his own
blood Jesus, the High Priest of the human race, hav-
ing oftbred himself ui)on the cross, should rise and
pass into the heavens, there to " appear in the pre-
sence of God for us." They, doubtless, after the ex-
ample of their Master, pointed to Jonah, the mysteri-
ous type of Him who i)reached repentance, not to
Nineveh, but to a guilty world ; and showed that " as
Jonas was three days and three nights" locked up *' in
the ^^ bale's belly," so was it appointed, that " the Son
of Man should be three days and three nights, in the
heart of the earth." We hear them saying to their
astonished auditors, " We declare unto you good tid-
ings, how that the i)romise which was made unto the
fathers, God hath fulfilled the same unto us, their
children, in that he hath raised up Jesus again;" and
appealing in attestation of this declaration, to words
which had long been sacred, and to Seers who had
never been disputed. Now we behold St. Paul ad-
dressing the Church at Antioch, and summoning
Isaiah to confirm his assertion, that, in the resurrection
of Jesus, were given unto God's people " the sure

8 ON EASTER-DAT.

mercies of David." And who, at this distance, per-
ceives not the strength of the reasoning of the great
Apostle of the Gentiles ? For without the resurrec-
tion of Jesus, what mercies promised to David, and to
his seed for evermore, are sure ? Now, also, we
hear St. Peter, bringing David, himself, to confirm
the testimony of the resurrection of Clirist: '' Thou
wilt not leave my soul in hell," says the Psalmist,
" neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One, to see cor-
ruption." " Men and brethren," says the Apostle,
" let me freely speak unto you of the Patriarch David;
that he is both dead and buried, and his sepulchre is
with us, unto this day; therefore, being a Pro|)het,
and knowing, that God had sworn with an oath to
him, that of the fruit of his loins, according to the
flesh, he would raise up Christ, to sit on his throne;
he seeing this before, sjiake of the resurrection of
Christ, that his soul was not left in hell, neiilu'r did
his flesh see corruption." And who, at this distance,
perceives not the strength of the reasoning of the great
Apostle of the Jews? For certainly " David, after he
had served his own generation, fell asleep, and saw
corruption; but He, whom God raised up again, saw
no corruption." Thus did the Apostles bring "the
Law and the Prophets," to confirm their witness of
the resurrection of the Lord Jesus; showing, in this
manner, that cither the Jewish dispensation received
its significance and consummation, from the Passion,
Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ, or that, as it
was about to pass away, it was an absurd, and un-
meaning letter. What wonder, then, that so many of
the devout Jews, became proselytes to Christianity,
and that " a great company of the Priests became obe-
dient unto the faith." The argument was of wonder-
ful power with those Jews, who, in simplicity and
godly sincerity, had cherished the revelations which
the Most High had vouchsafed to them ; and it is of
astonishing import, of irresistible force to every man^

ON EASTER-DAY, ^

who considers, soberly, the wonderful, the supernatu-
ral, the connected, the singularly significant nature, of
the Jewish economy.

But, I would observe, further, that the testimony
which the witnesses of God unto the people, gave of
the resurrection of his Son, was " with great power,"
in that it left his adversaries destitute of any satisfac-
tory, or reasonable replication. Much it behoved the
rulers of the Jews, to prove to the people, who were
many of them struck with the miracles of Christ, and
with the majesty, and awful occurrences of his death,
that they had not " crucified the Lord of Glory." In
their care to secure the sepulchre, they betrayed their
anxiety to do so. And, blessed Lord, could they have
produced thy sacred body, after the third day, with
what triumph would it have been exhibited ! They
would have dragged it into the temple. They would
have sent tidings of it to every synagogue. They
would have brought it in derision unto Pilate. They
would have made it a spectacle, till corruption obliged
them to mingle it with the dust. And when they
could no longer preserve it, they would have written
in the tablets of their nation, the memorial of its fate;
and beneath the records of its exhibition, they would,
with triumphant sarcasm, have inscribed, what Pilate
wrote with iiidilVerence, but i)rophetic import, above
thy cross, "This was the King of the Jews!" But,
no. There was no such refutation of the resurrection.
The body of Jesus, much as it concerned the Jews
to exhibit it, and so surely as this might have been
done, if they had only slain a deceiver, was never pro-
duced. But from the watch was purchased a declara-
tion, in which, as in many a false testimoii}', there was,
through the providence of God, involved a disclosure
of the falsehood of the testifiers, " his disciples came
by night, and stole him away while we slept;" a tes-
timony so absurd, a defence so feeble, that it needs
not any investigation: but it forced from one of th^

V(U.. It. 2

10 ON B ASTER-DAY.

fathers of the Church, an apostrophe so simple, yet s©
forcible, concerning this saying that is commonly
reported amone; the Jews, that I cannot forbear to in-
troduce it: " Ye wicked, corrupt, senseless wretches ;
either ye were awake, or asleep. If awake, it was
your business to secure the body from being stolen
away; if asleej), it was impossible you should either
know what was done, or who the persons were, that
did it."

Lastly. The tettimony of the Apostles was " with
great power," in that it was accompanied with the
confirmation and blessing of God, and produced great,
and extensive conviction. They were countenanced
from on high. Nature could not have nourished the
virtues which they exhibited, and would have sunk
under fatigues and sufferings which they endured.
They were " enabled to do all things through Christ,
who strengthened." To tiio first work of their minis-
try, it was necessary that, they should be endued with
miraculous powers. Profane, as well as sacred wri-
tcrSj declare, that these powers were furnished. " By
the hands of the Apostles were many signs and won-
ders wrought, and great grace was upon them all."
They were anxious, and obligated to communicate the
gospel, to the whole human race. Poor, illiterate,
friendless, obscure, how could they .accomplish thisr
Yet, behold, within a U'w wci'ks, many thousands of
the .Jews, among whom were many Priests, and prin-
cipal personages, became believers ; and before the
Apostles had expired, was dilTused and embraced in
most parts of the then known world. The establish-
ment, and rapid progress of a religion, whose Author
was crucified, and its propagators twelve of the most
despised men; of a religion, so opposed to the strong-
est propensities of nature, so different from any thing
to which man had been accustomed, and so destruc-
tive to ancient, venerated, and congenial systems; and
this, too., by means so simple, and seemingly inade-

ON EASTER-DAY. 11

quate to the object, is, of itself, a demonstration of the
wisdom and power, with which its witnesses unto the
people spake. Shall I be told tiiat. Paganism has
more generally prevailed. Paganism has its hold on
the ignorance of men, and its advocates in their vices
and infirmities. Shall I be told that, Muhammedanism
has been spread as successfully. We behold the
means of Muhammed's success, in his sensual para-
dise, and his sword. But when we look at Chris-
tianity; its strongest adversaries were in the human
bosom, and it rejected the aid of passion, money, or
force. Who, then, that soberly ponders its success,
can doubt that it had, in its earliest ages, irresistible
evidence; that it was " with great power" the Apos-
tles gave witness, of the resurrection of its Author;
and that God, doubtless, did bear tliem witness, " con-
firming their words, with signs following ?"

SERMON XLV.

ON EASTER-DAY.

I THESSALONIANi!, iv. 14.

If we believe that Jesus died and rose ugairiy even so
thenii also, ivho sleep in Jesus, uill God bring with
him.

And do wc not believe it? ""Who is this that
cometh from" the tomb, " with dyed garments" from
the bed of death ? '* This that is glorious in his appa-
rel, travelling in the greatness of his strength r" Is it
not He, whom we lately attended to the. crucifixion,
and left fast bound with the fetters of death ? Is it
not the resurrection of Jesus which, this day, fills our
bosoms with unusual joy, and does not the declara-
tions of the event which wc have heard, call it ui) to
our remembrance, free from doubt .^ Yes. If our

ON EASTER-DAY. 13

service, this day, and the service of the whole Chris-
tian Church be HOt all a mockery; if the testimony of
witnesses competent in number, and character, to
establish a fact, which fact, they attested with their
blood, may not be set aside by mere suppositions, and
sophisms ; if we have not seen such a success of im-
posture, as is contrary to all the past experience of
mankind; if all rules of evidence, and all grounds of
belief, be not altoii;ether arbitrary, and if the Almighty
Governor of the world, has not poured down his
blessing upon tiie work of a blasphemous deceiver,
Jesus Christ, who died upon the cross, according to
the Scriptures rose from the dead.

In your minds, my brethren, I presume this point is
established. You have no need that I go with you to
tfie sepulchre, and show that " he is not there, but is
risen." You awoke, this morning, rejoicing in the
glorious truth. Now, the inference which the Apostle
makes, from the resurrection of Christ, and which
renders it, to us, the most interesting event in the an-
nals of time, is, the certainty of our own resurrection.
" If we believe," says he, " that Jesus died and rose
again, even so them, also, who sleep in Jesus, will
God bring with him." And again, writing to the
Corinthians; "if Christ be preached, that he rose
from the dead, how say some among you, that there is
no resurrection of the dead ^"

As it is this inference, that gives us such an interest
in the event we commemorate, to show you, in the
first place, the certainty with which it is drawn; and,
in the second place, the inestimable value of it; will
be my present employment.

That our resurrection is the certain consequence of
the resurrection of Christ, will be evident, if we first
consider it, as an evidence that the Deity accepted his
sacrifice of himself, in our behalf. Death, we know,
is "the wages of sin." In no other way, can we
account for its introduction into the creation of God.

14 OK EASTER-DAT.

Now, of the rise of sin in our nature, we have an
Recount in the sacred history of man's transgression.
To atone for this transgression, and take away the
doom of perpetual death, to which it had subjected
man, was the avowed object, for which the Saviour
offered himself upon the cross. If, therefore, the
Eternal Father, accepted his proi)itiation for our sins;
and what stronger evidence could he give us that lie
did, than by raising the crucified victim from the
grave, our debt to the law is cancelled. The reason
for our subjection to eternal death, is remitted, and it
is impossible that we should be holden of it.

A sense of unworthiness, would naturally excite
doubts in any mind, unenlightened by revelation,
about the resurrection of men to immortality. We are,
indeed, conscious of faculties which qualify us for a
longer, and better being, than the |)rcsent, and of an
inextinguishable desire to prolong our existence. But,
a sense of our sinfulness, and moral frailty, must also
be felt, whenever we study ourselves. Whether the
Deity, therefore, who is able to people his universe
with beings, as pure and exalted as he pleases, would
condescend to exert miraculous power, to recover us
to everlasting life after our dissolution, might appear
problematical. The consciousness of our moral cor-
ruption, would, at least, diminish the probability in
some minds. We find that, according to the degree
of their virtue, was the strength of the heathen's hoi)p,
of a future existence. But, in Christ, *' we have an
advocate with the Father, and he is the propitiation
for our " sins." We have acquired new worth, by
our relation to him. He will feel an everlasting re-
gard for those, whom he hath redeemed with his
blood, and will plead his merits with the Father, for
their perpetual preservation. And if his expiation of
our iniquities have been accepted, we are, doubtless,
begotten by his resurrection to a blessed ho|ie of ever-
lasting life. The Father will behold lis \\ jih jircidiar

ON EASTER-DAV. 15

regard, as the fruit of his Son's sufferings, and, for his
sake, allow the efficacy of his merits, to save us from
the dominion of the grave.

Indeed, the Prophet foretold, and He, himself, de-
clared that, in " the travail of his soul," in the happi-
ness of those whom he. rescued from destruction, he
should find the reward of his obedience, and " be sat-
isfied." Now, can it be supposed, that in the short-
lived tenants of this chequered life, the Saviour " saw
his seed r" Has he no other satisfaction, than to have
redeemed them to the transient and adulterated happi-
ness, of this precarious state ; or will the Almighty
Father, suffer him to be defeated in his purpose, or
deprived of his reward? No. If he were pleased
and satisfied with his propitiation for the sins of the
world, for the Redeemer's sake, as well as ours, them
who " sleei) in Jesus, will God bring with him."

Now, that he did accept his sacrifice of himself, his
resurrection is the fullest, and most satisfactory evi-
dence, which could be given. In raising him from the
dead, God set his seal to all that Christ had done. In
testimony of his approbation, he gave him this public
triumph before angels and men, on his return from the
conquest of sin and death. Accordingly, the Apostle
argues; "if Christ be not raised, ye are yet in your
sins;" implying that, if he were raised, our sins were
cancelled, which were the sting, that is, the power of
death.

Again. How certainly the doctrine of our resur-
rijction is established, by the resurrection of our Lord,
will be evident, if we consider it as the sufficient, and
august proof, of the truth of his religion. That miracles,
are sr«pendous evidences of the truth of any doctrine, in
evidence of which they are really wrought, is incontro-
vertible. That to raise himself from the dead, is the
greatest miracle Christ could have wrought, or man
can conceive, no one will deny. When it is added
nhat, this miracle fulfilled prophecies which pointed to

16 ON easter-dat;

it, in distant, and at difVerent times, it will be con-
fessed, that it combines in itself, all the force which
any evidence can possibly carry. To this, therefore,
Jesus himself appealed, and when a sign was de-
manded of him, rested upon it the credibility of his
mission. Without this resurrection of our Lord, the
support of his doctrines would, I conceive, have been
imperfect; but, while this stands, though every other
argument should be subverted, the Christian faith
would remain unshaken. And, blessed be the wisdom
and care of,our God, he hath so fortified this important
pillar, that it defies the enemies of the gospel, and,
without being marred, or enfeebled, has repelled their
most vigorous blows. Lpon this pillar, the religion of
the Redeemer stands, the wonder and joy, of all con-
siderate beings. For the eternal validity ot" its doc-
trines, and promises, this is a satisfactory voucher.
Now, the very end of the gospel is, to bring us to
everlasting life and glory. No doctrine is more con-
spicuous in it than that, of our resurrection to immor-
tality. No promise more frequent than that, of eter-
nal felicity to the faithful. We hear it from the mouth
of Christ himself. His Apostles repeat it. It is
declared to be the i)urpose of CJod in the gift of his
Son; and the passages are so numerous, and familiar
to you, that I shall not attempt to (piote them. This
glorious truth, then, as a doctrine of our religion, is
confirmed by that event which, of itself, i)roves the
religion divine. " If Christ be not risen," says the
Apostle, " then is our preaching vain, and your faith
is also vain." But by rising, he established his word,
and this word is eternal life.

But I add, once more, that the resurrection of our
blessed Lord, confirms our e.\i)ectations of being
raised to a future life, by exemplifying the mystery to
us. This is what man needs and desires, to i)lace the
subject bejond all doubt. He may conjecture, from
the imperfection of the present life, and tlie promiscu-

ON EA9TER-DAY. 1^

ous fate of the virtuous and the wicked, a future retri-
bution. He may gather from the properties of his
soul, and forebodings of his conscience, a probability,
that he is designed for another state of being. What
he wishes, he may incline to believe, and religion may
kindly descend to confirm his hopes. But in a thing
so dear, he is anxious to have the possibility of the
thing exemplified by fact. Till some one exhibits
death's sceptre actually broken, the grim monster
seems to reign the ujiconquerable monarch of the
world. An instance here, would be worth many argu-
ments. And such an instance we have, through tho
abundant riches of the power and goodness of God.
In our own nature, in that body and soul in which he
lived, and was very man, Christ returned to life, after
death had laid his hand on him, and he had descended
into the tomb. In this, the Eternal Father demon-
strated his power to relume the sleeping dust, remand
into it, the departed spirit, and fit it for an eternal
duration. " Christ being raised from the dead, dierh
no more; death hath no more dominion over him."
In his resurrection, God hath manifested his power, to
awake every son of Adam from the sleep of the grave,
and the end, for which he hath manifested it, is our
assurance that he will do it.

Such is the evidence, that the certainty of our resur-
rection, is the consequence of the event which we, this
day, commemorate. It remains an interesting duty,
to set before you the inestimable value of this lively
hope, to which we are begotten of God, by the resur-
rection of his Son. But time will not permit me, now,
to enter upon it.

My Christian friends, go we to the altar of our God,
and as the fittest expression of our joy, keep the great
eucharistic feast. There, in commemoration of our
deliverance from the bondage of death, let us cele-
brate the offering of the true Paschal Lamb. " And
thus, shall ye eat it;" with " the loins of 5'our minds

VOL. ir. ^

18 ON EASTER-DAY.

girded with truth;" the " staff" of faith in your hands;
and " your feet shod with the preparation of the gos-
pel of peace." Ye shall eat it with solemnity, and
holy joy; for "it is the Lord's Passover." With
faith and obedience, apply its blood to your spirits, and
have in remembrance, your wonderful deliverance
from death ; and when the chosen Son of God shall
appear in judgement, upon a rebellious and impenitent
world, you shall be sav<^d from the sorrows which
will come upon the disobedient ; and be taken to that
land of perpetual rest and deliglit, which the Father
hath given for you, to the '* Captain of your salva-
tion," as the reward of his sufferings, victories, and
triumphs.

SERMON XLVI.

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

CoLOSSIANS, ii. 10.

And ye are complete in him.

At is natural to look back upon the wonderful events,
some of them sorrowful, and some of them joyful,
which we have lately commemorated. Indeed, the
Church does not yet cease from her special joy on
account of the resurrection of her Lord; but still
dwells upon it with exultance and delight. As we
behold our adorable Master " dying for our sins and
rising again for our justification," and in these, his
acts, are reminded of his character, his instructions
and offices, I know not a passage of holy writ, more
suitable for our contemplation, than this of St. Paul to
the Colossians : " Ye are complete in him."

20 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Let US, first, consider, to \vhom these words are
addressed. Th( y are contained in an epistle to the
members of an eminent Church, which was jiathered
by Epaphras at Colosse. These " saints and faithful
brethren" had embraced, with a lively and steady
zeal, the rcli;iion of Christ, and had conformed them-
selves, with distinguished exactness, to his institutions
and requirements. It appears, that by baptism they
had been regularly incorporated into the Church of
the Redeemer: for the Apostle observes of them, that
they were "buried with hini in baptism, wherein,
also, they were risen with him, through the faith of
the operation of (lod.'' They were, also, with exem-
plary fidelity, lovers and cherisliers of the doctrines,
sacraments, and discipline of the Church; for, says
the zealous Paul to them, " though I be absent in the
flesh, yet am I with you in the s|)irit, joyin-j; and be-
holding your order, .md the steadfastness of your faith
in Christ." As might be expected of a people, who
were thus established in their principles, and regular in
their conduct, it appears that these Colossians were
renewed in their lives; for the gospel had brought forth
its " fruit in them," and, though there was room, as
among the best men there ever will be, for Apostolic
cautions and exhortations, yet, it is evident from the
epistle, that they had abounded in those distinguishing
Christian graces, " faith, hope, and charity." To
persons of this description, were the words in the text
addressed; and, in ihem, without doubt, to the sin-
cere disciples of the Redeemer, the true members of
his Church, in every age, and every place. To all
such, his ambassadors are authorized to say, " Ye are
complete in him."

Let us, in the second place, consider, in what this
completeness consists. Were I to go about to set it
before you in all its extent, it would rerpiire a volume,
rather than a discourse. A volume, did I say ? Alasf
and who should write it? For to a conception of the

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 21

fullness, that is in Christ Jesus, all finite powers are
utterly inadequate. It is well styled by an inspired
penman, " the unsearchable riches of Christ." All
that we can do is, to contemplate it in some of its ob-
vious, and most interesting particulars.

Knowledge is the foundation of all religion, and all
excellency. Without it, there can be no elevated cha-
racter in man ; no wisdom nor satisfaction in his man-
agement of life; no reasonableness in his service to
his Creator; no basis to his faith, nor certainty in his
hopes; no sunshine of joy upon his soul; no pleasant-
ness, nor safety in his path. In this fundamental par-
ticular we are " comi)lete" in Christ Jesus; for in
him, arc hidden all the treasures of wisdom and know-
ledge. In Christ, are wra|)pcd up all the counsels
and purposes of God. In him, are placed the foun-
tains of all truth. From him, proceed all sure instruc-
tions; and there is no rest for the inquiries of the soul,
till it is brought humbly to his feet. He is appointed
as the sun of the intellectual firmament. When he
appears, there is light; we see our path; and order
and beauty is discernible in every thing around us.
Where He siiines not, all is confusion and darkness.
Ah, were we not familiarized to his shining, with what
transports of joy, with what exclamations of gratitude,
should we hail his beams!

In this article of knowledge, where else, than un-
der the instructions of Christ, shall we find man
"complete?" Shall we find him so under the guid-
ance of nature? Alas! look at the savage. In many
things, how nearly allied to the brute; and, upon the
subjects of religion and salvation, how ignorant, even
of his ignorance, and of the importance of truth ! Shall
we find him " complete" under the light of science and
refinement? Look at the philosopher. How rest-
less; how perplexed; how dubious! At the end of
his labours, and height of his attainments, still asking
anxiously, " What is truth ?" The Christian need

22 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

never look back with envy upon the world, as if pure
instruction could be found in any of its resources. It
is overspread with ignorance. Men, out of the Church
of God, have been every where enveloped with dark-
ness, and a prey to delusions. The highest point of
wisdom attained by the wisest of their number, was
expressed in the just and humbling adage, " Tliis only
do I know, that I know nothing." On this account it
was, that St. Paul was i^nxious to guard the Chris-
tians at Colosse, by a sense of their completeness in
Christ, against being beguiled with the enticing words,
and flattering opinions, of philosophical teachers, by
whom they were surrounded. " Beware," says he,
"lest any man spoil you through philosophy and vain
deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments
of the world, and not after Christ. For in him dwel-
leth all the fulness of the Godliead bodily; and ye arc
complete in him."

In Christ Jesus, resides the fulness of the supreme
intelligence. We can have no better, we can need no
other instructor. He is the Word and Wisdom of
Cod. All the will, and purposes, and counsels of the
Almighty, are committed unto him. And the renewed
mind, A\hich hath been broni:ht into union with him,
and surrendered itself entirely to the guidance of his
hand, and instructions of his voice, finds itself trans-
lated into regions of pure and divine truth; which
present, on all sides, innumerajjle bright, and safe, and
delightful paths; and, in every part of which, is seen
the glory; is felt the presence, of the invisible Deity.
In these regions, the soul of the diligent, can never be
destitute of its proper knowledge. What is there, O,
Christian! of becoming knowledge, relating to thy
being, thy business, or thy destiny, which Christ, thy
Instructor, hath not communicated ? What is there,
concerning thy God, or the universe, or truth, or holi-
ness, of which it is certain that, the knowledge would
be beneficial to thee, that thy adorable Master hatlinot

I

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 23

revealed? What is there, concerningthe ways of life,
of peace, and salvation, which it behoves thee to know,
that He, wlio is the way, the truth, and the life,
hath not explained? And how great is thy felicity,
liow great thy security, in quaffing thy knowledge from
streams, whose source, is the fount fast by the throne
of God ; from streams, from which, if thou drinkest
purely, thou canst never imbibe any thing that can
savor of error, or prove injurious to thy soul's health;
from streams, to the source of which, all higher orders
of intelligence repair, for the draughts that inspire
them with heavenly wisdom, and which, are perpetu-
ally visited and blessed, by the Holy Spirit of God!
On the brinks of these streams, who that abides, can
long he ignorant wliat is good, or what the Lord his
God re(iuircth of him ? These instructions, which
are set open to us in Christ Jesus, are full and certain ;
full, in that they are adequate to all our necessities ;
and certain, in that he is the Wisdom of God. Yea,
we may go further and add, that they furnish means,
for our i)erpetual increase in knowledge, and advance-
ment in goodness. They are unfathomable; they are
exhaustless. We may say of the wisdom the}' contain,
as an Apostle hath said of the love that hath made
»liem accessible to us, it " passetii knowledge."

But, further; true knowledge will make us ac-
quaiiUed with our own sinfulness, and witii the holi-
ness of God, and, consequently, with our need of a
propitiatory sacrifice, wherewith to appear before our
Maker, and the desirableness of a Mediator, to inter-
cede w ith him in our behalf. Where has not man
indicated his sense of the necessity of such a sacrifice,
and sought to avail himself of some such mediation?
riiere has been no religion without an altar; and no
altar without a Priest. In the usages of mankind in
fvery age, we may trace strong evidences of an early
)>romuli:ation of thai priiu-iple of the divine economy

24 SUNDAY AFTER EASIER.

that, "without blood, there is no remission;" and
where is the enlightened bosom, in which may not be
found feelings, which resort with joy to the thought
of an Intercessor; and reasons, which prove it as fit,
as it is desirable, that between the Holy God, and his
offending children, there should be a mediator. Now,
in these most important particulars, we arc "com-
plete" in our Redeemer; for he is the all-sufficient
sacrifice provided, and accepted by our heavenly Fa-
ther, even the Son of his love, "in whom we have
redemption through his blood." He is the Mediator
whom the Father hath sanctified and sent into the
world, and of whose mediation, he hath testified his
acceptance, in that he hath raised him from the dead.
The blood which llowed from the cross, is of elVicacy
before the throne of the Almighty, proportioned to its
value, and its value, who shall calculate; what lan-
guage shall express! All other sacrific<'s were insig-
nificant, but as they had res|)ect unto this. They
were ineffectual. They were shadows, of which the
substance is Christ. Christians have in him, both a
sacrifice and a Priest, of whose jirevailing pow er with
the Father, there is infallible assurance, in that they
are, at once, the Father's offspring, and the Father's
api)ointmcnt.

And wiiere, out of the Church of the Redeemer, is
man "complete" in these respects? Where else, shall
we find him with a sacrifice for his sins, on whose effi-
cacy he can rely; or with a mediator with his God, in
whose success he can be confident? iShall we find
him so among the Gentiles? He is surrounded there
with a host of mediators; but, behold, " they have
eyes, and see not; they have cars, and hear not;
neither is there any breath in their mouths." He is
offering sacrifice upon a thousand altars; but, lol they
are offered to the Being whose they already were;
and what efficacy is there in their blood to tuke away
sin? Shall we find him " complete" in these respects

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

26

among the Jews? Their whole system was "the minis-
tration of condemnation." Their sacrifices and ordi-
nances, were but " shadows of things to come." And
he who was " circumcised, became a debtor to the
law, to keep the whole law," and by every transgres-
sion incurred a curse. It was on this account that,
St. Paul was anxious to guard the Colossians, by a
sense of their completeness in Christ, not only against
being beguiled with the opinions of vain philosophy,
but also, against resorting to heathenish superstitions,
or subjecting themselves to Jewish ceremonies; by
allurements to which, this distinguished Church, and,
indeed, almost all the Churches in the first ages, were
assailed and endangered ; a circumstance which you
must keep in mind, if you would rightly understand
the scope and meaning, of many passages in tliis, and
most of the epistles, which are in the New Testa-
ment. In the cha|)ter from which the text is taken,
the Apostle is chiefly anxious to prevent those, to
whom he writes, from relying on any thing, as neces-
sary to the ground of their justification, "but Jesus
Christ, and him crucified." They needed nothing out
of him. In him, was :ill sufliciency. " For it pleased
the Father, that, in liim, should all fulness dwell;
and, having made peace through the blood of his cross,
by him to reconcile all things unto himself." Brought
by faith unto the Redeemer, and justified freely
through his blood, they needed not to burden them-
selves with heathenish observances, or Jewish rites.
Nothing could add to the sufliciency of Christ's grace,
or be a substitute for it, if it were wanting. " Ye are
complete in Him, who is the head of all principality
and power; in ^^hom, also, ye are circumcised with
the circumcision made without hands, in putting off
the body of the sins of the flesh, by the circumcision of
Christ."

As the resources of Jews and Greeks, furnish not
the means of atonement and peace, how great is the

VOL. II. \

26 SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.

Christian's happiness in having received, from his
Maker's bounty, the full price of redemption. His
" belov ed Son" hath offered " in his own body upon
die tree," a suflicient propitiation for the sins of the
world; and with the blood of the sacrifice, is passed
into the " heavens," there " to apprar" for ever " in
th'' presence of God for us." \v holy, and humble
men, who are overwhehned with the contemplation of
the majesty, and holiness of Jrhovah, behold, between
him and you, a mighty Mediator, in whom (iod is
reconciled unto you, and, for ^^ hose sake, ye are hon-
ourable and precious in his si^ht. \v penitent oflen-
ders, who are heavy laden with the consciousness of
your sins, behold, in tin; blood of Christ, a fountain
set open by the Almighty, in which you may wash and
be clean. Washed in this purifying stream, "though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be like wool ; thou{:h
they be red like crimson, they shall be u bite as snow."
A persecuting Paul, and an inconstant Peter, a sinful
Magdalen, and a crucified thief, have found it stifli-
cient to take away the stains of their guilt; and when-
ever it is resorted to, with penitence and faith, the
Everlasting Father hath declared that, it >hall "cleanse
from all sin." Faithful members of the Church, who
with all your faith and perseverance, are conscious of
the smallness of your attainments; and when ye con-
template the joys, and honours, and riches of heaven,
are ready to ask, with exceeding meekness, shall all
this glory be given unto us? Look at your Uedeemer:
"Ye are complete in him who is the head." As mem-
bers of his body, ye not only have fellowship in his
sufi'erings, but, also, participation in his resurrection.
He is your life. And, for his sake, ye are dear unto
the Father. " When He, who is your life, shall ap-
pear," of that glory, with which the head is encom-
passed, shall all the members of the body share. Bg
not dismayed, then ,' " ye are comi»lete in him."

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. ^7

This brings us to contemplate our completeness in
Christ, as our Head and Kinj;. We have very great
need of grace from on hi^h, to establish our faith,
comfort our hearts, and protect and advance us in the
ways of holiness; for, of ourselves we are feeble, and
prone to evil, and beset with innumerable difficulties
and dangers. Our adorable Redeemer, hath received
of the Father, the promise of the Holy Giiost. In his
state of exaltation, lie hath received all necessary and
excellent "gifts for men." He seeth our necessities; and
the grace which is necessary, shall not, we are assured,
be wanting to those, who are united uith him as their
Head. For, from " the head, all the body by joints
and bands hath nourishment ministert^d, and shall in-
crease with the increase of God." There are adver-
saries, too, in sin and Satan, with whom the good
man must have many bitter conHicts; and a terrible
enemy in death, before whom, the heart is apt to be
dismayed. It is the Ciuistian's happiness to know,
that over all these adversaries, " his Lord haih tri-
umphed gloriously." What trophies are these, which
we behold of his victory? Approach his cross. Be-
hold; having spoiled princi|)alities and powers, he
liere triumpheth over them ; and the hand writing that
was against us, he hath nailed it to the tree. Hasten
from the cross to the sepulchre. See the bars of the
tomb severed, and the sceptre of its aw ful monarch,
lying broken at its month. Go forward a few weeks,
and, lo! tongues, as of fire, resting upon the heads of
his disciples, sent down to qualify them for overcoming
every foe. Light up the eyes of your faith, and see
the gates of heaven opened by him, and Jesus, himself,
" sitting on the ri^iht hand of God." What can be
wanting to the safety, and victory of those, who are
united unto the Being, whom the Father hath, in so
many ways acknowledged, and commended unto
mankind, as his Son, their Redeemer? His "throne
is established for ever." " All iiower is given him, in

28 SUNDAY AFTER FASTER.

heaven and on earth." The elements of nature ; the
invisible " powers of the air;" the hearts and proper-
ties of the dwellers upon earth; the events of time;
angels and devils; the keys of life, and the gates of
hell, are all under his control. They shall all be bent,
by his mighty power, to the eventual promotion of the
deliverance and glorification of his body, the Church.
This, is the end of his administration ; the subjection
of his enemies, and the crowning of the faithful.
Whatever troubles may overtake the believer; what-
ever mysteries may envelope the ways of heaven;
whatever clouds and tempests may be let loose upon
the world, from amidst the seeming confusion and
darkness, he may hear the voice of his king, " It is I,
be not afraid." And in the aw ful hour of the final
consummation, when God shall wind up this present
course of things, and the IJead and king of the
Church shall come forth in his glory, as Judge of the
world, then, faithful disciples of the Redeemer, shall
it be fully demonstrated of you that, " ye are complete
in him."

What now remains, my Christian friends, but that
we turn our attention to the great obvious inference,
from what has been said, the importance and happi-
ness of being one with Christ. Surely, the knowledge,
the pardon, the safety, the immortality, which result
from this union, are such blessings, as no man, to
whom they are proposed, can wisely, can innocently
forego. Do you ask, how you may secure them unto
yourselves? Christ is " the vine, ye are the branches."
As the branch cannot partake of the strength and fat-
ness of the root, except it abide in the vine, so neither
can ye of this completeness, "except ye abide in him."
Do you ask how you are to abide in him? "The
Church is his body, the fulness of him that filleth all
in all." Repent, and be ye, by baptism, ingrafted into
it. Dwell constantly with it. Avail yourselves of the
ordinances and means, which he hath provided for it<;

SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 29

instruction and nourishment. Endeavour to adorn it
with every good word and w rk, holding the true
*' faith, in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in
righteousness of life." Then shall ye be found in him.
Of his fulness shall ye all receive. And " all things,
whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world,
or life, or death, or things present, or things to come;
all shall be yours."

SERMON XL\1I.

ON THE ASCENSION.

Hebrews, ix. 24.

For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with
handSf which are the fic^ures of the true; but into
heaven itself, noiv to appear in the presence of God
for us.

At this season of the year, we are carried back to
the period, when our blessed Lord, having accom-
plished all things for which he came to our earth,
blessed his infant Church, and departed from them
into heaven. It was a period of joy to the angelic
hosts, which met him on his way, and welcomed his
victorious return to the regions of bliss. It was the
jubilee of human nature, which then was freed from
the shackles, which confine it to earth, and, passing

ON THE ASCENSION. 31

the portals of the skies, was invested with an eternal
residence in the celestial world. There, as our fore-
runner, and the " Captain of our salvation," Jesus is
seated ; clothed with the highest Priestly, and Princely
dignity, by the Father ; making, unceasingly, interces-
sion for us; guiding the events of time, by the coun-
sels of the Godhnad, to the final and glorious con-
summation of all things.

That you may have a scriptural knowledge of this
mystery of our faith, I have chosen for a guide, to our
present meditations, these words of the author of the
epistle to the Hebrews: " For Christ is not entered
into the holy places made with hands, which are the
figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to ap-
pear in the presence of God for us."

This passage, and most of the texts of Scripture
which allude to the ascension of our Lord, lead us for
an explication of it, to the economy of the tabernacle
and temple of the Jewish Church. You will remem-
ber that, in these, according to the directions of God,
there was, besides the vestibule and outer court, an
interior place, separated by a vail, and called, " the
Holy of Holies." Here, was the Mercy-Seat of the
Ark of the Covenant, between the cherubim, over
which the Shechinah, or manifestation of the divine
presence, usually appeared. Into this sacred recess,
none was permitted to enter, but the High Priest.
Once, only, in the year, on the great day of expiation,
when atonement was made for tiie sins of the whole
people, he passed through the vail into this presence
chamber of the Deity, to present the blood of the
sacrifice before the Mercy- Seat. The ceremony was
this. Having, first, purified himself with water and
blood, the animal which the Most High had chosen,
to be the expiatory and propitiatory sacrifice, for the
sins of the whole nation, was offered by him in the outer
court, upon the altar of burnt-offerings. He then took of

32 ON THE ASCENSION.

the blood of the goat, and entered with it into the Holy
of Holies, where, after offering incense, as a token of
homage, he sprinkled the blood seven times, before the
Mercy-Seat, and made intercession for the people.
What, now, did this ceremony signify, which was
instituted by God, and the observance of which, was
made a condition of th(Mr being brought into the pro-
mised land ? It was " a shadow of good things to
come ;" whose substance, whose reality was Christ.

It is remarkable that the Jews, as we learn from
Josephus, and the writings of the Hebrew Doctors,
considered the outer courts of the tabtMiiaclc, as sym-
bolical of the earth, and the Holy of Holies, as an em-
blem of heaven. When, therefore, our blessed Lord, at
the time appointed by the Father, had, by the sacrifice
of himself upon the cross, made a full and acceptable
expiation " for the sins of the whole world," it be-
came him, as the great High Priest of mankind, or-
dained by God, and made "perfect through sufferings,'*
to enter into the Holy of Holies, not made with hands,
even " into heaven itself, now to appear in the pre-
sence of God for us." Into the purest, and most holy
place in the universe, " the heaven of heavens,"
where the hosts of God have tlicir abode, and the
Divine Majesty is most specially present, Christ hath
ascended in our nature and behalf. There, he pleads
before the throne of the Almighty, the merits of the
atonement he has made for our race, offering the
incense of his perfect obedience, to conciliate for us,
the divine favour, and interceding powerfully with his
own blood, for all those who, " with hearty re|)ent-
ance and true faith," flee for salvation to the foot of
his cross. " Christ," says the Apostle, *' being made
an High Priest of good things to come, by a greater
and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands,
that is to say, not of this building; neither by the
blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood he
entered in once into the holy place, having obtained

ON THE ASCENSION, 33

eternal redemption for us." And " he is able to save
them to the uttermost, who come unto God by him,
seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them."

It appears from many accounts that, while the High
Priest was making intercession in the most Holy place,
the people were without, confessing their sins, and
professing their allegiance to the Almighty. Among
the uses which have been assigned to the golden bells,
which were ordered to be suspended around the bot-
tom of the Pontifical robe, it has been supposed, with
much probability, that they were to give notice when
the High IViest entered within the vail, on this solemn
business, tliat the [)eople might behave with corres-
pondent sobriety. lie this as it may, it is certain that,
the Jews refrained at this season, from every thing
which was incongruous with the service performing
for them, and engaged, cliiefly, in acts of devotion and
mercy. In like manner, while our Master is in hea-
ven, we, in this earth, this outer court of God's uni-
versal tabernacle, have our work to do. There are
conditions of the covenant, on our part to be fulfilled.
Christ hath instructed his Church, to live here, in the
exercise of fjiith and repentance, of patience, devotion
and charity, while he is interceding for themj with the
everlasting Father. And, methinks, there is a propri-
ety in this, of which no considerate mind can be insen-
sible. For what can be more incongruous, while our
Head is pleading with the Almighty the merits of his
sufferings, in our behalf, and supplicating for our
growth in virtue, and reception to glory, than for us,
to be immersed in the pomps and vanities, the passions
and vices, of this transitory state; forgetful of our
Intercessor, and of the glorious inheritance to which
he would exalt us. It is a solecism, which the angels,
if they are permitted to be witnesses of our behaviour,
must behold with amazement. Surely, there should
be something of harmony between our lives, and the
services which are performing for us, in the courts of

VOL. II. 5

34 ON THE ASCENSION.

heaven. It is meet and right, that our prayers should
be united with the intercessions of our Lord, and our
souls and bodies preserved pure, for the reception of
that Spirit, uhich his prevailing oflices obtain. " Hav-
ing," therefore, says St. Paul, "an High Priest over
the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart
in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled
from an evil conscience, and our bodies washed, with
pure water."

In this region of frailty and temptation, we liave
need of much forbearance and compassion, on the part
of God. Our infirmiti(5s are great. The shades of
our wants and dangers, are too varied for the fniest
pencil to represent them. To be suited to our nature,
and inspire us with the fulness of hope, our advocate
must be one, who can enter into our feelings, and
know our distresses; who can plead every thing in
mitigation of our sins, which the frailty of our condi-
tion can furnish, and supplicate every thing for the
promotion of our peace, which the difficulties of our
situation can reipiire. iNow, such a Mediator, is
Jesus Christ. Though he is in heaven, he has dwelt
on earth, in oin- nature, and has all that sympathetic
interest in our cares, which the most i)erfectly com-
passionate disposition, and the fullest ex|)erience of
our griefs, can unitedly excite. " We have not an High
Priest," say the oracles of truth, " we have not an
High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling
of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like
as we are, yet without sin."

It belonged, exclusively, to the Priests, under the
Mosaic dispensation, to bless the people in behalf of
God. And, doubtless, on the great day of atonement,
they received joyfully that blessing, which, we may
reasonably suppose, the High Priest brought from the
Holy of Holies, after he had made exjiiation for their
transgressions. In like manner, oin- High Priest hath
received of the Father, all gifts and blessings for his

ON THE ASCENSION. 35

Church. With the voice of his ministers, he dispenses
to the penitent, assurances of the pardon of their sins.
Visibly, with a rushing mighty sound, at first; and in
*' a still small voice" in the bosom since, the Com-
forter, his most precious gift, comes down ; to send
whom, " it was expedient that he should go away."
Mansions in the Father's house are given him, which
he is prei aring for the eternal accommodation of his
friends. And the blessings which this adorable Priest
and King of the redeemed shall bring for them, when
he "shall come in like maimer as he went into hea-
ven," are represented to our minds, in the holy Scrip-
tures, by crowns of glory, palms of victory, and white
robes of purity and peace.

It is impossible for us, in this confined state, to form
any adequate conception of tiie blessings, which are in
reserve for the faithful. IJut, it was as our represen-
tative, that Christ ascended into heaven in our nature,
and our eternal life is there secured with him, claimed
by him, as the fruit of his sulVerings, at the throne of
God. When the daily sacrifice and oblation was to
cease, in conse(iuence of the offering of Christ, once
for all, the vail of the temple, which separated the
Holy of Holies from the outer courts, " was rent in
twain from the top to the bottom ;" signifying, that
there should be no more occasion for an earthly High
Priest, but that the kingdom of heaven was opened to
all believers, through the great Intercessor. And
when our Lord shall have accomplished his mediato-
rial office, the type shall receive its complete fulfil-
ment. The vail which now separates heaven, the
holy place of the INIost High, from this outer court,
our earthly abode, shall,, at the grand consummation,
suddenly i)ass away. The ransomed of the Lord shall
ascend with him, into the dwelling place of the Al-
mighty ; their pardon shall be proclaimed, and their
immortality confirmed : and Jesus, iiimself, having

36 ON THE ASCENSION.

finished his office, shall become subject to the Father.
" that God may be all in all."

Thus, I have imperfectly illustrated this important
mystery of our holy relijjion, the ascension of our
blessed Lord; a mystery, resting upon the strong,
and stupendous pillars of prophecy and type; estab-
lished by the testimony of those, who were eye wit-
nesses and martyrs to the reality of the fact ; and
placed beyond the reach of reasonable doubt, by his
bestowing those supernatural gifts, which he had pro-
mised to his Ai)Ostles, as evidences and fruits of his
glorification. But why do I speak of the evidences of
this part of revelation p You are already persuaded of
its truth. Your belief in it, you do every Sabbath de-
clare, before the presence of God, in the solemn repe-
tition of the articles of your faith. Let me rather
entreat you, Christians, this day, to make a solemn
pause; and implant in} our hearts a just consideration
of the ascension of Christ, and of its important conse-
quences. Is it, indeed, true, that having cancelled
our sins upon the cross, and broken for us the massy
sceptre of death, he hath thrown open the gates of
heaven, and entered as our harbinger ? Who, among
the heathen, hath named such a tliineP Where, in
the gloomy region of scepticism, shall we fmd such
joyous prospects ? Let us, then, hold fast the profes-
sion of our faith; and love and adore its Author. Is
it, indeed, true, that the Son of God is our " advocate
with the Father, and the propitiation for our sins?"
How ravishing the reflection! What holy confidence
should it give us, when we make our prayers! What
zeal, and faith, and delight, w hen we olTer unto God
the memorial of his death, in the eucharist ! What
comfort inefi'able, when our souls are cast down under
a sense of our infirmities, and our spirits are disqui-
eted within us! Is it, indeed, true, that man, " made
lower than the angels," is in the person of Immanuel
advanced to the right hand of God, and *' crowned

I

ON THE ASCENSION. 37

with glory and worship?" With what self-respect,
should the thousht inspire us! Shall habits of vice
debase ; shall carnal affections dishonour ; shall even
an impure thouc;ln defile, a nature which has place in
the courts of the Most Hi^h, and is so nearly related
to the Father, and to his Son Jesus Christ ? Is it,
indeed, true, that a time is approaching, when, in the
dread majesty of Justice, the ascended Lord shall
return, summon from their graves the slumbering dead,
of every place and generation; and, while he takes
the righteous to himself, and to all the bliss of the
Father's house, will leave the ungodly to themselves,
and to all the miseries of condemnation ? What heart
can lie still at the thought! What mind is not made
sober, by the reflection ! Who sees not that, it is his
interest, as well as duty, to conform his life to the
lovely example of his >aviour, and to set his " affec-
tions on things above!"

My brethren, these are views of the ascension of
our Lord, which you must admit as just and reason-
able, unless you abandon your faith. Strange, that
they have not a more powerful influence on our lives I
It is true, when " the spirit is willing, the flesh is often
weak." Frailty is our inheritance, and our life is
bi'set with temptations and sorrows. But for our
encouragement, let us remember that, the Almighty
Father is comi)assionate and good. Let our sense of
his goodness move our ingenuousness, and rouse us to
circumspection. " Laying aside every weight, and
the sin which doth most easily beset us, let us run with
patience the race that is set before us ; looking unto
Jesus, the Author and finisher of our faith; who, for
the joy that was set before him, endured the cross,
despising the shame, and is now set down at the right
hand of the throne of God."

SERIMON XLVIII.

-«0«6-

ON THE ASCENSION.

Hebrews, ii. 9.

We see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the
angels for the suffering of death, crowned with joii
and honour.

Jl HE last grand display of our Saviour's life, and the
illustrious consummation of his ministry, was his
ascension into heaven. This mighty event, we have,
in the week past, been joyfully commemorating, and
the Church yet follows with the eye of faith, her
ascending Lord, wrapt in admiration, and exclaiming,
" My Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel, and the
horsemen thereof."

It is to this great event, as the fruit of our Saviour's
incarnation and crucifixion, that the Apostle alludes in

ON THE ASCENSION. 59

tlie text. The words are peculiarly proper for our
present contemplation, as they will naturally lead us
to consider, the great honour and advancement of our
nature in the glorification of Christ, and the conse-
quences and obligations, which we should infer, from
this important doctrine of the gospel. Yes, my friends;
in the glorification of your Redeemer, man was ex-
alted to the highest abode of glory and felicity. In
the ascent from the greatly favoured Olivet, there
went one, who, wore our nature, and, sin excepted,
had led our life. This, Jiis disciples must have appre-
hended of tiie person, of whose ascension, they were
taken to be witnesses. It was their well known Mas-
ter, whom they, not long before, had seen and han-
dled, and who was talking with them as a man, when
he was parted from tiicni.

Tliat Jesus Christ, after having expired for our
sins upon the cross, and been raised from the dead, did,
after passing forty days on earth, in arranging the
economy of his Church, ascend into heaven, all Chris-
tians believe. But when we give our Amen to this
article of our faith, have we definite ideas of the truth,
to which we assent? Who is it that, " for the suffer-
ing of death, is crowned with glory' and honour?"
When he says to his disciples before his departure, " I
go to prepare a place for you," who is it that goes?
Undoubtedly, the Being in whom existed the wonder-
ful union of the human, and the divine natures. It
was not solely, the divinity of the Son returning to its
pristine abode. That was never " made lower than
the angels." That being incapable of passion, never
tasted " the sufferings of death." That was not
limited by his visible i)resence, but while it dwelt in
him upon earth, was, at the same time, " above all,
and through all, and in all."

Of the place and state, to which the Redeemer is
exalted, we can form no adequate conceptions. The
divine Spirit has used such figures and descriptions, in

40 ON THE ASCENSION.

the record of the event, as give the loftiest ideas of
glory, bliss, and power, which our minds can embrace.
To "the right hand of the throne of God," the jtlace of
highest distinction and most honourable pre-eminence ;
into heaven, the peculiar abode of the divine presence,
and seat of purest and immortal joys; to the Father's
house, all whose inhabitants have the Father's appro-
priate affection, and in which are the treasures of
wisdom, and happiness, open and enjoyed for ever-
more; is Immanuel gone. But to follow him, and
fully estimate his glorification, we are unable. Our
mortal faculties could not sustain its sj)len(lour. A
cloud receives him out of our sight. Of this, how-
ever, we are assured, and it is the utmost outline of
exaltation which we can conceive, that our nature has
been taken by him, who graciously espoused it in the
day of its poverty and distress, to all " the glory"
which the best beloved of the Father had wilii him,
" before the foundation of the world."

Here let us pause, and reflect; what glory to the
fallen nature of man, that the Eternal Son should
assume it, even to dwell in it on earth, and say of its
humble ofi'spring, "my brethren arc these!" How
immeasurably great, then, its Jioiiour and advance-
ment, when he is exalted in it to the right hand of
the Father; " angels, authorities, and powers, being
made subject unto him !" ^Vhere are now, the pitiful
objections to the humiliation of the manger, and seve-
rity of the cross? Where is now, the despised Naza-
rene, the scorned teacher of strange doctrines, the
unresisting victim of malice and death r The ascen-
sion of Christ, vindicates, perfects, crowns the Cliris-
tian scheme; it is the top stone which gives firmness
and grandeur to the fabric, and displays the proi)or-
tionate beauty of all its parts.. The railings at the
incarnation, and objections to the crucifixion, vanish :
all is consistent, grand, and worthy of the author.
God is just, and humanity made happy, while we see

ON THE ASCENSION. 41

Jesus, " who was made a little lower than the angels,
for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and
honour."

While we perceive that, it was in our nature the
Saviour passed into his glory, our advancement hereby
will be more impressive, if we consider that, in enter-
ing upon his joy, he " opened the kingdom of heaven
to all believers." As the Intercessor of man, to whom
the Father hath refused nothing, he went to plead for
the justification of his followers to eternal life, that
they may be with him, and partake his glory. As the
** Captain of uur Kulvution," hp, in his person, took
possession of the country which his triumphant victo-
lies had secured, entering, as our forerunner, upon the
realms of liiiht. As the head of his Church, it was
meet that h<^ should be first exalted to the kingdom,
prepared for the children of the Father, from the be-
ginning of the world, and, of necessity, as the head and
the body arc one, so the life of all his members is hid
with him in (iod. '' In my Father's house," says he,
" are many mansions." " I go to prepare a place for
you; and if I go, and prepare a place for you, I will
come again, and receive you to myself; that where I
am, there ye may be also." What surer pledge of our
inheritance in heaven can we have, than the exaltation
of Him, in our nature, to the possession of "all power
in heaven, and on earth," who hath sought our happi-
ness, by the sacrifice of himself, and declared it to be
his will, that they whom the Father hath given him,
should be with him where he is.

But of this interesting and stupendous event of the
Ascension, where are the evidences? How shall we
believe, that this great thing hath been done for us;
this thing so wonderful, and of such amazing conse-
quences? Behold, I bring to you the types which,
" at sundry times, and in divers manners," God
vouchsafed to give, of what he would accomplish, in
the great Redeemer. See Enoch translated to heaven

VOL. ir. 6

42 »^N IHE ASCENSION.

under the Patriarchal dispensation, and Elijah under
the Mosaic; that men misht be assured of another
sphere of existence, to which the faithful would be
taken, by the great Deliverer. See the leaders of
Israel, after the sojourning of the people in the wilder-
ness, conducting them through the flood of Jordan to
the Canaan of rest and felicity. See the High Priest
passing through the vail into the Holy of Holies, after
having made the great expiation, with the blood of the
sacrifice, there " to appear in the presence of God,"
in behalf of the people. Look at these types, and
others which attend thpm They arc ancient, they
are consistent. Ponder, attentively, the testimony
they give. You shall find that they owe their exist-
ence, their significance, their holiness, to that scheme
of grace of which the ascension of the Messiah was
an essential part. You shall discover, that they were
oracles set in the darker periods of the world, to testify
to the sincere inquirer, the truth of this mystery, and
establish his faith in its interesting consequences. Yes.
These holy types are witnesses of the ascension ; wit-
nesses, celebrating it in all ages of the world ; with
a, testimony the more impressive, because evidently
inspired.

Again. I bring to you that venerable evidence,
which the Almighty hath so often employed in the
service of truth, Prophecy. Her, he admitted to a
vision of all things concerning his Christ; and of the
ascension she has testified, with unejpiivocal fulness,
and irresistible force. Hear her, in tlic memorable
testimony, given in Babylon: "I saw in the night
visions, and behold, one like the Son of Man caiue
with the clouds of heaven, and come to the Ancient of
Days, and they brought him near before him, and
there was given him dominion, and glory, and a king-
dom, that all people, nations and languages, shouKl
serve him. His dominion, is an everlasting dominion,
which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that.

ON THE ASCENSION. 43

which sliall not be destroyed." How explicit, how
powerful is this testimony! The person appearing,
"one like the Son of Man;" the situation in which
he was seen, in *' the clouds of heaven ;" the character
of Him to whom he came, "the Ancient of Days;"
and the consequence of his ^oing to " the Ancient of
Days," the reception of glory, and dominion, and a
kiniiidom; this full, and particular testimony, by such
a witness as Propliecy, wlien it is applied, carries
with it a force, solemn and irresistible. It is not
her only declaration. She often has proclaimed the
same thing. Go back to a more distant time. Hear her,
in the prospect of Messiah's approach to his high abode,
calling, in sublime apostrophe: " Lift up your heads,
O, ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors,
and the King of Glory shall come in I" Hear her, in
contemplation of iiim, as entered into heaven, offering
her fervent adoration : " Thou hast ascended up on
high; thou hast led captivity captive, and received
gifts for men." What is this, but Prophecy on one
side of the event, as history on the other; giving evi-
dence to times past, present, and future, of the ascen-
sion of men's Saviour into heaven ?

This brings me to observe that, we have the histori-
cal evidence of those, who were eye witnesses of the
fact. We have, in several books, written by different
persons, not long after the event, the testimonies of
those, who had the peculiar felicity of beholding the
Lord, when he departed from the world to his Father.
These, were not a few men; they were the whole
company of the Apostles; these, were men worthy of
all credit, for they were eminently honest, consistent,
scrupulous, explicit, and unvarying. These, were men
who had no power, and could have had no motive to
deceive others, by framing a falsehood of so singular
a nature. They were simple, unambitious, timid;
without the influence of wealth, or learning, or friends.
If they believed their Master had failed them at his

44 ON THE ASCENSION.

death, they could have no inducement to abide by liis
cause; and if they believed that he was, indeed, the
Son of the Highest, they could not have supposed, his
cause needed the aid of fiction. These were witnesses
who, in this matter, could hardly have been deceived
themselves. They were on the mount in open day.
He had taught them that, he should go into heaven.
Could they doubt, when they talked with him, when
he laid his Iiands on them, and blessed them; when
they stood together, after havinir walkcul to th(^ mount,
that it was he, himself, Jesus, wlio had been crucified?
Could they have suffered delusion when, while he
talked with them, they saw him parted from them,
and, with adoring wonder, beheld him ascend through
the air till the clouds of heaven " rcTrived him out of
their sight?" Could the eyes and the ears of them
all, have been deceived, when they saw and heard the
angels of Ciod, who were kindly sent to confirm to
them the reality of what they beheld ? They were not
credulous; it was neither a situation, nor a time, in
which they would easily be deceived. The circum-
stances of the ascension were such, as free the Re-
deemer, from the least suspicion of imposture. These,
moreover, were witnesses, who made such sacrifices,
as no human beings, with so little inducement, ever
made to deceive others ; they made these sacrifices
with a calmness, resolution, and perseverance, which
no men ever exhibited, who were not fully con\inced
they were not di^ceivcd themselves. They encoun-
tered scorn, and toil, anil persecution. They relin-
quished houses and lands, professions and prospects,
kinsfolks and friends. They endured scourgings, and
imprisonments, and tortures, and thrcatenings, at the
recital of which, our spirits are appalled; yet, they
endured them with unshaken fortitude, and often with
joy, rather than alter their testimony. They laid down
their lives for their testimony; sooner than recall what
they had testified ; yea, sooner than remain silent, they

ON THE ASCENSION, ^ij

submitted to death ; to the most terrible deaths ; with
steady, and holy joy, sealing, whenever it was neces-
sary, their declaration with their blood. Could the
witnesses, and historians of our Lord's ascension,
have been deceived ? Could they, at such a price,
without any countervailing benefit whatever, have
imposed an idle fable on the world ? In men, who
had seen the Master that blessed them, taken up into
heaven, we might, perhaps, expect a devotion like
this. But sure, the Apostles needed, to produce in
them such faith and perseverance, and to sustain them
under such labours and sufferings, all the conviction of
their Lord's power and glory, which an actual vision
of his ascension inio heaven could give them.

Our first emotions, upon contemplating the ascen-
sion of our Lord, is amazement. The lustre of his
virtue in life, and his sublime equanimity in death,
transport us with the perfectability of our nature. We
stand by his tomb, and behold him trample upon its
grisly prince, with exulting astonishment. But when
from Mount Olivet, we see him rise from earth, with
the eye of faitii we follow him to the right hand of the
Majesty on High, anticipating the period, when all his
redeemed shall share his glory ; and the human nature
be enveloped in the perfections, and felicities of the
divine; the mind faints under the greatness of its ob-
ject. Devout amazement seizes every thought; and,
like the eleven, we stand gazing up into heaven."

But, from amazement at this precious part of the
Christian dispensation, let us rouse ourselves to consid-
er, our obligations to respect a nature, which God has
so highly exalted, and destined for such noble felicity.
Nothing is more difficult, than totliink rightly of our-
selves; to temper the contempt and abhorrence, which
the frailty and depravity of our nature should excite,
with the self-resi)ect, which beings should preserve,
who have fellowship with the Father, and with *' his
Son Jesus Christ." Considered without the light, the

46 ON THE ASCENSIO.N.

doctrines, and the prospects of the gospel, man is an
ignoble, unhappy being. Every considerate person,
who will view himself faithfully, as he is by nature,
shall find abundant reasons to wrap his mind in the
garment of humility, and, in meek penitence, bewail
his fall. But, considered in the view in which the
gospel places him, man rises from his ruins. The
Christian is allied to noble beings; his propects are
great; and it is scarcely to be decided, whether he is
more to be pitied, as he i.s by nature, or reverenced, as
he is by grace. This mixture of strange extremes in
our condition, is so emphatically expressed by the
poetic divine, that I cannot rei)rcss my inclination to
adduce his pleasing authority :

" How poor, bow rich, how abject, how august,
Howcomplicale, bow wonderful, is man !
Distinguisli'd link in being's endless chain !
A beam ethereal, suUy'd and absorpt !
Tho'sully'd anddisbonour'd, still divine!
Dim miniature of greatness absolute!
An heir of glory ' a frail child of dust !
Helpless immortal ! insect infinite
A worm ! a god !

An angels arm ran't snatch him from the gravf .
Legions of angels can't confine him there"

" Reverence yourself," was a precept of one of the
wisest of the heathen sages. How much more suited
to the Christian, who perceives his nature recovered
in the person of his Lord, and justly expects to be like
him, when he shall " see him as he is." Are wc
members of a body, of which the Son of God is the
head, and shall we not fear to pollute so illustrious a
fellowshii)? Have we a representative in the inmost
presence chamber of heaven, and shall we sink into a
mean commerce with vice, or debase, by folly and

ON THE ASCENSION. 47

wickedness, the nature he has exalted ? Do we ex-
pect to be, hereafter, raised to the right hand of our
Master; and shall we defile ourselves with evil; let
ourselves down to the follies of his foes, and, with
our noble prospects, here wallow in the dust? Forbid
it every dignified sentiment in our bosoms! Verily,
" every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth him-
self, even as he is pure."'

We may further observe, from the subject we have
been contemplating, the wisdom and propriety of rais-
ing our affections, and directing our pursuits, to the
great realities of the future existence. If He, in
whom we believe, is gone into heaven, and those who
"' inherit the promises" shall fulluw Iilm, there we
must look for our rcNL for ever. Our best interests;
our eternal abode; our life, are there. We are here,
but passengers of an hour; "strangers and pilgrims"
seeking a better country. Of course, to loiter amid
the vain deliglits of this transient state, is to forget our
business, and our home.

That " we have here no continuing city," we know.
Time is hurrying us unceasingly *to leave this earth;
yea, earth itself, is fast hastening to be dissolved, and
the element of our abode to pass away. How delight-
ful the reflection, that in the ark the Redeemer hath
prepared, our nature shall survive the general wreck.
Amid the havoc of death, and the solemn awe which
I he approach of judgement inspires, how solacing the
thought, that the faithful " look for a new heavens and
a new earth, wherein dwelletli righteousness." But
if we do, indeed, believe, that our hopes, our conver-
sation, our treasures, arc in heaven, will not our hearts
be there also? Shall we be absorbed in the pleasures,
vanities, and vices of this world, which every thing
reminds us we must leave, while our Head, our Mas-
ter, is calling us to his glory, and we have this momen-
tous calling to secure ? Shall we, in tho outset of our
iournev. encumber ourselves with burthens, which we

48 ON THE ASCENSION.

must relinquish, when we have scarcely got under
way, while we neglect the habits, the affections, and
the graces, for which we shall have need in our eternal
and exalted existence? "If ye, then, be risen with
Christ, seek those things which are above, where
Christ sitteth on the right hand of God."

Let us, then, be induced, by what has been said,
rightly to conceive, and faithfully to improve, that
sublime, and most gratifying part of our faith, the
ascension of our Master into heaven. Let it establish
our confidence in the gospel; rejoice our hopes; and
lead us to fit ourselves for an entrance " into the joy of
our Lord.'' Though he is taken from our view, he is
mindful of our cuuduci, and "shall so come," for the
consummation of his work, " as we have seen him go
into heaven." While deprived of his presence, are
we anxious that his Spirit may rest upon us, to guide
and support us on our difficult way? Let us take up
the mantle he has left, in his word and his sacraments,
and seek, on every emergency, " the Lord God of
Elijah." So shall we be of the number, for whom
" it was expedient that he should go away." Our
journey of life shall be conducted to our satisfaction.
And when we are brought, at length, to the waters of
that Jordan, which lies between us and the abode of
the Prophets, shall be able in the power of the Spirit
of our Master, to smite, and pass dry shod, between it«:
divided waves.

SERMON XLIX.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

JoHir, iv, 14.

But the water, that I shall give him, shall he in him u
well of water, springing up into everlasting life.

J. O obtain the true meaning of our Lord in this
animated passage, we will recur to a similar declara-
tion, made by him on another occasion. Standing
amidst the assembled Jews, on the last day of the fea^
of tabernacles, when water from the pool qf Siloam
was poured out, as a drink offering unto the Lord,
Jesus cried : " If any man thirst, let him come unto
me and drink. He that believeth on me, as the Scrip-
ture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of liv-
ing water." Upon the record of this declaration,
there follows an inspired exposition : " This spake he
voiy. II. 7

50 ON WHITSUNDAY.

of the Spirit, which they, who believed on him, should
receive." The passage is so evidently parallel with
my text, that the comment upon one, may be consid-
ered as a comment upon the other; and we may learn
from it, that by the \\ ater, which Christ mentioned to
the woman of Samaria, we are to understand, the
grace of the Comforter or Holy Spirit: of which he
was the great distributor appointed by the Father,
having purchased it by his mediation for the children
of men. Accordingly, ve find, that when the woman
had expressed her surprise that he, " being a Jew,"
should ask of her, a Samaritan, a draught of the
water which she had come to Jacob's well to draw, he
replied, " If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it
is that saitii to thee. Give me to drink; thou wouldest
have asked of him, and he would have given thee
living water." As if he had said, Hadst thou known
the riches of that grace, which God will pour out
iipon those who seek it; and that 1, who sjicak unto
thee, am the Messiah, to whom the distribution of this
inestimable gift is committed, thou wouldest have
asked, and I would have given thee, truths and influ-
ences of the Holy Spirit, which would be in thee, as
a well of water, i)erpetually springing up, and refresh-
ing thy soul, allaying thy thirst forever, and nourishing
thee into eternal life.

In an age, when finite reason and human philosophy,
are made the standards of truth; when many Chris-
tians content themselves, with a cursory acquaintance
with the precepts of the gospel, and even some of
those who are set as angels of the gosjiel pool, " for-
sake thetfountains of living water, and hew out to
themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold
no water," the dispensation of the Spirit, with tlic
doctrine of its operation on the heart, and importance
to salvation, is not a very popular theme of discourse,
nor, it is feared, a subject of very frequent contempla-
tion. Yet, it is an essentialj peculiar, and most com-

ON WHITSUNDAY. 51

fortable part of the " faith, once delivered to the
saints;" and, happily for us, we are annually brought
by the excellent economy of our Church, to acknow-
ledge, and consider it, in the solemnities of the Whit-
suntide feast. To-day, we commemorate the fulfil-
ment of the Redeemer's promise, before his Ascension,
in the actual, and visible descent of the Comforter,
upon his assembled disciples; with which is con-
nected, the interesting doctrine of our participation
with them, of the heavenly gift, though in a mode that
is dissimilar, and lor purposes not i)recisely the same.
With your indulgence, my brethren, I will improve the
opportunity to bring to your consideration, in the first
place, the reality, and necessity of the gift of the
Spirit, to all true believers, in every age ; secondly, to
call your attention to the in«*stimable value, and im-
portant uses of it; and, in the third place, to point
you to the channels, through which this gift, this liv-
ing water, ordinarily flows. Topics these, which may
suggest reflections, that will be pertinent to the joy of
this season; and not unprofitable, in the cause of
righteousness, if tliou, O, Holy Ghost! vouchsafe to
descend, to consecrate our labours, and, by thy quick-
ening influences, to fertilize our souls!

That the extraordinary manifestation of the Holy
Spirit, and the supernatural i)owers, which accompa-
nied it, are continued in the Christian world, is what
no considerate i)erson, at the present day, will ad-
vance. For the visible descent, and miraculous ope-
rations of the Comforter, on the day of Pentecost,
there were reasons which belonged to the time, and
the events of it; reasons, peculiar to that age, which
no longer exist. And the "sound as of a rushing
mighty wind," and the " cloven tongues, like as of
fire," have subsided to an invisible influence of the
Spirit, upon the hearts and lives of men. So, once, it
was expedient that, the Almighty should descend with
tremendous majesty of clouds and fire, wind and,

52 ON WHITSUNDAY.

thunder, and the shaking of Sinai to its base. But,
afterwards, when the Prophet waited for his instruc-
tions, " the Lord was not in the wind," nor " in the
fire," nor "in the earthquake;" but in "a still small
voice."

From the change of mode, which we acknowledge,
we arc not to infer the absence of liic substance. That
the holy fire, which sat visibly upon the Apostles, is
extinguished ; that the Comforter, who descended on
the day of Pentecost, has returned to the Father ; that
Christians are not all partakers of the heavenly gift,
is contrary to reason; to the declarations of Scripture,
and to actual observation. From each of these
sources may be deduced, the ce/tainiy of his invisible
abode with all true believers, and the reality, and ne-
cessity, of his operation in iheir hearts.

IMan is now, what he ever has been, since the fall,
a feeble being; ignorant by nature of his God, and
duty; living, daily, in trespasses and sins. While he
remains unenlightened by tiie comnuinications from on
higli, darkness encompasses his mind. \Vhen this
darkness is dispersed, and the points of true excel-
lence are clearly revealed, to raise himself to them by
his own strength, is not in his power. It is with
anguisi) and humiliation that, in proof of this, I point
you to the heathen sage ; perceiving, admiring, cele-
brating the virtues which, in the practice of life he
abandons. It is with fear and trembling, that, for the
same purpose, I point you to the arduous struggles,
and the many defeats, by which the Christian, in
endeavouring to maintain his heavenly course, is
taught his dependence upon some superior strength.
Man's moral powers are so weakened by corruption;
his affections are so prone to evil; the holds which
temptation has in him, are so numerous and so deep;
his spiritual life is so far gone, that, in sacred language,
he is represented, with awful emphasis, as dead, while
he liveth. And as soon may he raise himself from the

ON WHITSUNDAY. 53

iron slumbers of the tomb, to the life and glories of
immortality, as rise, by his own strength, from the
moral decay and corruption of his nature, to the
purity, spirituality and holiness, of the new and eternal
life. Do you doubt that this is the decision of reason?
Hear her testimony by the mouths of some of her most
enlightened votaries. Hear the thoughtful Pythagoras
instructing men to i)ray to the gods for assistance, that
they may do what becomes them. Hear the accom-
plished Cicero, confessing, that no man was ever ex-
cellent without sonn^ divine afllation. Here the judi-
cious Hierocles teaching the necciisity of the divine
blessing upon our endeavours after virtue, to make
them successful. Hear the virtuous Seneca, declar-
ing, that no man is good, without the help of God.
The insufficiency of man, of himself, to recover him-
self to a state of holiness, is no new discovery. It
is what the (Jentile and Jewish Patriarchs felt. It is
what the Christian Apostles bewailed. And it is,
what every person may find in his own case, when ho
compares his life with the requirements of the divine
law, and studies the character and progress of his
virtues. But, that we must rise from tiiis state of sin,
to righteousness, and be renewed in our minds " after
the image of Him who created us," before we can
enjoy the presence and kingdom of God, is evident in
the nature of the thing, and is the settled principle of
every Christian's mind. Reason, therefore, concludes,
that unless our heavenly Father has abandoned his
children to vice and perdition, he will provide the
means of sanctifying their nature, for all those, whom
he purposes to bring into his heavenly kingdom. And
when we are once informed that, this office belongs to
the Holy Ghost, we cannot doubt, that every indivi-
dual of our frail race, w ho seeks sincerely the mercies
of the Lord Jesus, unto eternal life, is a partaker, in
such time and measure, as God sees fit, of the blessed
Comforter's protection and aid. If any are good.

54 ON WHITSUNDAY.

truly and uniformly good, it is through the assistance
of the divinity, that stirs within them.

But from the deductions of reason, we pass to the
declarations of Scripture, for additional and surer evi-
dences, of this great and most comfortable doctrine.
It may be considered as implied in many of the pro-
phecies, relating to the Messiah's kingdom. Joel
proclaims, that, in the latter days, God would " pour
out his Spirit upon all flesh." Isaiah, having the
fountain which Jesus would open, in view, breaks
forth in a strain of prophetic invitation : " Ho, every
one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." David,
contemplating at a distance, the pouring out of God's
grace upon his people, exclaims: "Thou, O God,
sentest a gracious rain upon thine inheritance, and
refrcshedst it when it was weary. Thy congregation
shall dwell therein ; for thou, O God, hast of thy good'-
ncss prepared for the poor." Indeed, as the gifts and
graces of the Spirit, are fruits of the Messiah's media-
tion and achievements, they must be reckoned among
the blessings, with which, in him, " all the families of
the earth should be blessed."

But, in the New Testament, these coruscations of
prophecy, are collected and embodied, and shine forth
upon us with an enlivening brigiitness. lie who hath
the command both of " the upper, iuid the nether
springs," while he has taught us the need we have of
the Spirit, has graciously given the promise of it to
his followers, in every age. In the passage already
quoted, as parallel with the text, he declares that,
through the bosom of every one that believeth on him,
" shall flow rivers of living water." Here is no limit-
ation to any age ; no restriction to any place. For all
who confess, and follow the Redeemer, the immortal-
izing fountain flows. To the reprehensible Samaritan,
if she earnestly ask it, shall the " living water" be
given; and the devout Ethiopian, '* if he believe with
all his heart," shall be refreshed by the stream, and go

ON WHITSUNDAY. 55

'• on his way rejoicing." The very promise of the
Comforter made by Christ to his disciples, seems
hardly capable of fulfilment in the plain acceptation of
it, unless those, to whom it was made, be considered
as representatives of his whole Church ; for it is pro-
mised, as a substitute for his own gracious presence,
which his Church must always need; and it is pro-
mised to abide with them for ever. Nothing, indeed,
can be clearer, fuller, or more impressive, than the
declarations of Scripture, concerning the perpetuity
and importance of the influences of the Holy Spirit,
Without it, we are said to be nothing. All men are
representeed as dependent on it, for faith and sanctifi-
cation. It is spoken of as the source of the life and
growth, of every Christian excellence. It is extolled,
as the earnest to the faithful, of everlasting life.
" Hereby," says St. John, " know we that we dwell
in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his
Spirit." " Ye are washed, ye are sanctified, )e are
justified," says St. Paul, " by the Spirit of our God."
And again; " Know ye not, that ye are the temple of
God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you."
And again; "We have all been made to drink of the
same Spirit." In short, what can more strongly testify
the necessity of this grace, than the declaration of our
Lord, that, "except a man be born of the Spirit, he
cannot see the kingdom of God." And what can
more satisfactorily assure us, of the readiness of the
Spirit, to come unto all the followers of the Redeemer,
than that memorable passage, with which St. Peter
closed the first, and best Whitsunday sermon, that has
ever been delivered : " The promise is to you and to
your children, and to all that are afar off, even to as
many, as the Lord our God shall call."

Of similar import, are the institutions which the
Scriptures have hallowed. Ordinances are of little
value, but as means of grace. These means, are or-
dained to be of perpetual use; and thej are of univer-

56 ON WHITSUNDAY.

sal extension. Of the typical stream, which God
caused to flow miraculously from the rock, which of
his people, while journeying through the wilderness of
their probation, was not permitted to drink? And
unto the ordinances, in which the antetype the spiritual
stream now flows, and follows his Church, which of
our race, while journeying through this world of their
trial, is not bidden to repair, and take of the " waters
of life freely ?" The appointment of the means for
the use of all, shows, that all need, and that all may
obtain, the influences of the Spirit of God.

Confirming the deductions of reason, and illustrat-
ing the declarations of Scripture, there remains the
evidence which is drawn from actual observation.
And here shall I take you to " the noble army of
martyrs;" and show you them stretched upon racks;
standing in flames, and walking through furnaces,
with a calmness, a patience, a firmness, a joy, which
it would seem impossible they should have possessed,
if there had not been with them one, like the Spirit of
the Son of Man. Shall I go further, and take you to
" the goodly fellowship of the Prophets," and show
you them, long before the visible descent of the Com-
forter, wrapt in the visions of the Almighty; fortified
to the noblest undertakings; consoled under the hea-
viest trials; raised to the sublimest virtues, and, like
the children of Israel in the land of Egypt, while
darkness rested upon all around them, having " light
in all their dwellings?" No. I will not take you to
those ; lest you should say, though the one be prior,
and the other subsequent to the visible eftusion, of the
Spirit, these were extraordinary endowments, fitted to
the necessities of the subjects of them, by the faith-
fulness of God. I will take you, then, to the Infidel;
and by the absence of grace from his heart, will show
you the necessity of it for all men. Whence his unbe-
lief? He has not used the means of obtaining the gift
of God. He has not prepared liis heart, nor bowed

ON WHITSUNDAY. 67

his knee, to pray unto the Most High. He has not
heard, meekly, the word of truth, nor studied it with
docility and good affection. He has not performed
the vows, which were made for him at his baptism;
and all the institutions of religion, he hath presump-
tuously disregarded. Refusing to use the means, he
hath not had the protection, and blessing of grace. In
his exposed situation, Unbelief hath seized on him.
With infatuating impetuosity, she is hurrying him
through her dark, and bewildered paths; and ah! she
will dash him into the abyss of perdition 1 Is it that,
religion hath not wherewith to commend herself? Oh,
no. This wretched being, hath not sought; yea, he
hath resisted ; yea, he hath despised, the guidance of
the Spirit of God. And lo, grace, which comes to all,
comes not to him. AVith such, the Almigluy will
" not always strive;" for he is " a jealous God." He
hath left him to himself; a monument of our danger
and wretchedness, when his Spirit is departed from
us. From him, let me take you to the youths, whose
spirits, the world hath not yet wholly polluted, and to
whom the " truth, as it is in Jesus," is happily preach-
ed. In them, the Spirit makes effort. In the cool of
the day, when passion is still, his voice may be heard
in the hearts of everyone of them. He whispers to
their consciences, the imiiortance of salvation; he
places before them the loveliness of virtue, and endea-
vours to kindle their desires; he checks, gently, the
deviations of their minds. Do they disregard him;
and prefer the powers of this world, and the pleasures
of sin? He leaves them to " their own ways," and
they are " filled with their own devices." Do they
observe him ? Do the}^ obey his admonitions, and
cherish his counsels ? He comes to them more inti-
mately; he abides with them more constantly; they
advance *' from strength to strength, and unto the
God of gods appeareth every one of them in Sion."
From these, let me take you to the matured Christian,

VOL. II. 8

58 ON WHITSUNDAY.

lor in hiiu it is most manifest, that of the grace of the
Spirit all the discijiles of the Redeemer are partakers ;
that the Holy Ghost is the Comforter, to every fol-
lower of the Lamb. Behold him, beneath the long
torture of lingering disease, and painful wreck of
nature, calm, gentle, yea, smiling in his anguish.
Behold him, bereft of a darling child ; of a bosom
friend; of the desire of his eyes, at a stroke; yet, re-
pressing every murmur, and anxious, chielly, to im-
prove his afllictions to tiie advancement of his virtue,
and glory of his God. Is it in nature, to be patient
after this manner ? Though philosophy may teach
men, with hardy fortitude to bear the stroke, can she
teach them, with such meekness to kiss the rod ?
Behold him, bringing into subjection every inordinate
passion, and decking himself with every godlike vir-
tue, till the bosom of lust, auger, envy, pride and
malice, is converted to a scene of purity and benevo-
lence. See him, raised to spiritual communion with
his Maker, till his heart is lilled with a seraplfs love,
and his countenance, like Moses', shines w ith the re-
flection of the glory he has contemplated. Approach
liini in his final hour, and behold him, meeting death
with such a holy and Invnenly composure, as almost
exhibits the saint '" made perfect," on this side hea-
ven; and compels us to admire, where we went to
mourn. Is it in our feeble nature, to rise to such
majesty r Though reason may enable us, to submii
quietly to death, can she teach us, to rejoice in it, to
triumph over it with joy ? Though nature n)ay fill u>
with fear of God, and a^^ ful revert.'uce; can she shed
abroad such love of him in the heart.'' Though philo-
sophy may teach us, to be brave, disinterested, ami
generous, can she teach us, to be humble? Can she
enable us to be pure? No. " In us, that is, in our
flesh, dwelleth no good thing." The Christian, finds
i|i himself, a new and wonderful creation. He is con-
scious, it rs something which he did not, by his ow n

ON WHITSUNDAY.

59

power ajone, produce. There is divinity in it. In
the calm hour of contemplation, he surveys the oTpera-
tion in his mind ; and, wrapping himself in his mantle,
like Elijah listening to the " still small voice," per-
ceives that it is the Spirit of God.

Our time would fail us, for the duties which yet
remain to be performed upon this holy festival, if we
were now to pursue this subject further; but, by
divine permission, it shall be concluded in the After-
noon.

SERMON L.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

JoHH, iv. 14.

But the water that I shall give him, shall be in him a
well of water, springing vp into everlasting life.

AVING seen, in our observations on this text, this
morning, the reality and necessity of the gift of the
Spirit, to all true believers, of every age, let us con-
sider, its inestimable value, and importance. Given
to enlighten, to purify, and to comfort us, it is satisfac-
tory, and it is perennial.

We are formed with desires, and fitted for attain-
ments, which nothing here can satisfy, or complete.
Our minds are framed for knowledge. We need it;
and have a natural bent to seek it. But, of the sub-
jects upon which we fix our most inquisitive attention.

ON WHITSUNDAY. 61

and are most concerned to investigate, nature leaves
us deplorably ignorant. Of ourselves, our duty, our
hopes, and our destination, unaided reason can give us
little information that will not distress us. It tells us,
we are mortal, though capable of perpetual improve-
ment; but it discovers nothing certain beyond the
grave. It suggests that we are moral ; but can neither
define right, nor promise aid or reward to virtue. It
teaches us that, we are creatures and dependents ; but
it brings us not to our Maker ; it leaves us less ac-
quainted with him, than with ourselves. We are in
a region of obscurity. All is enigmatical in ourselves.
All is perplexing in the scenes and events around us.
We go to the streamlet of this belief to-day, and of
that system to-morrow, and return again to the chang-
ing rivulets of our own imaginations. But none of
them satisfy. We drink of their waters, and thirst
again. It is not, till the Spirit of tiie gospel enlightens
our minds; it is not till the Comforter has guided us
into truth, that we find rest from our wanderings and
are satisfied. Established by the Holy Ghost in the
faith of the gospel, and embued, through his power,
with its heavenly principles, the Christian has in him,
a perpetual spring of peace and joy. The knowledge
drawn from the founts, to which the Spirit conducts
him, answers all his necessities. He drinks of this
water, and thirsts no more. The views of God, of
life, of salvation, of righteousness, and of heaven,
which this Instructor of the ignorant sets before him,
and enables his understanding to apprehend, become
in him as " a well of water, springing up into ever-
lasting life."

Again. Our desire of happiness, is even stronger
than our desire of knowledge. But how vain is the
chase, upon which our passions and the world put us,
for the gratification of this desire. Alienated from
the love of God, and having his moral faculties im-
paired, man has lost by the fall, both the knowledge

62 ON WHITSUNDAr.

and relish of his chief good. He roves awhile, in all
the paths of earthly pursuit, seeking, in each, the sat-
isfaction he has not found in others, and murnuiring,
successively, at the barrenness of all. The reason is,
the soul cannot be satisfied with the pleasures and
attainments of this sublunary world. They are car-
nal. They mock its expectations. They are uncer-
tain and transient, subjecting it to perpetual disap-
pointments. They cannot satisfy us. Ho that drink-
eth of them, thirsts again; and tlioiigh he be admitted
to them all, and take of each most copious drauglits,
yet, still he thirsts. There is a void which is not
filled. There is a feverish anxiety, which is not
removed. There is a weariness under which he yet
wants refreshment. It is not till the heart has found
its Saviour, and the Comforter whom he sends has
taken possession of it, that man knows the source of
true happiness, and is able to enjoy it. 1 see him, in
his eager pursuit of gratification, njceting, in many ;»
path, with fruit whidi is pleasant to the eye, and seem-
ingly good for food, yea, and desirable to make one
wise. Passion urges him to take and eat. Yet, if he
do so, death is the consequence. What is to enable
him to repress his inclinations, and refrain from indul-
gence, but the restraining grace of the Spirit of holi-
ness? 1 sec him, amidst tfic splcndotns which have
crowned his worldly projects, and the joys which have
been opened to him by his success, conscious of sinful-
ness, and accountability; and, sighing in the hour of
sober reflection, "O, wretched man that I am! who
shall deliver me from tije body of this death r' Where
shall he find happiness, but imder the influences of that
Comfortej-, which says to llie trembling olTender, "thy
sins are forgiven thee;" and inio the chambers of the
bosom, where were gathered the darkness and terrors
of despondence, pours the beams of eternal hope? I
see him, bending under afllicf ion's stroke. Misfortune
has snatched from him, the prosperities of his lilc: oi..

ON WHITSUNDAY. 63

^eath has bereaved him of the kindred being; the be~
4oved friend, who was dearer to him than all life's
prosperities. Philosophy comes to him. She tells
him, his fate is irreversible, and it is folly to repine.
Ah, this only aggravates his woe. Reason discourses
with him, of the alleviations of his trouble ; and of the
duties and joys which remain. It is the voice of a
charmer, to which the ear of sorrow is deaf. Thou,
only, O, Holy Ghost, art the Comforter who canst
bind uj) the lireach in his happiness, and heal the an-
guish of his wound. Thou, diffusest thy soothing
influences through his bosom, and its perturbations are
still. Thou, conductest him to tiie fountains of con-
solation, which God has blessed. He drinks of the
waters, and his si)irits are refreshed. Thou, biddest
him look up, and showest him a clear, and peaceful,
and unvarying sky, above the clouds and blackness,
which are rolling away. He beholds; and wipes
away his tears, and says, ' Blessed Spirit, abide with
nie for ever.' I see him, on the brink of the grave;
sustaining the conflicts of his final hour. His body is
agonized with the torture of disease; his faith and
patience are assailed by the enemy ; the angel of death
is approaching with his dismaying step, and appalling
aspect. It is an awful hour. What can sustain him,
but the everlasting arm ? Who can preserve his soul
in composure, and light up in it, when it is taking its
flight, the smiles of peace, but tire Spirit who hath
said, " When tiiou passcst through the waters, I will
be with thee, and ili rough the rivers they shall not
overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire,
thou shalt not be l)urncd, neither shall the flames kin-
.dle upon thee." As a Comforter, to whom man may
go, for strength amidst dangers, encouragement amidst
difficulties, freedom from terrors, and support under
adversities, there is none worthy of his confidence but
the Holy Ghost. The pardon, salvation, and immor-
fnlitv. o\' which he ns^urr«; us. and to a participation of

64 ON WHITSUNDAY.

which we are sealed by him, are the well-springs of all
durable and satisfactory joy. Without these, we shall
in our pursuit of happiness, roam wildly, and perpetu-
ally thirst. Until the peace of God is shed abroad in
the heart, we may drink of all the streamlets of plea-
sure which are accessible to us, but we shall thirst
again. The soul must find its rest from its anxieties
and fears, before we can be satisfied. This rest it
finds, when the Comforter dwelleth in it; for his gra-
cious influences are the sure antidotes to fear, and dis-
satisfaction ; and the light of his countenance, is the
source of peace. With thee is the well of life, and
in thy light shall we see light.

This brings me to observe, further, in illustration of
the inestimable value, and importance of the gift of
the Spirit, that it is his office, to sanctify us wholly, in
spirit, soul, and body. Descending on us in baptism,
he consecrates us unto God ; and, if he be not resisted
and grieved, becomes in us, the living principle of
goodness and truth, and qualifies us for God's hea-
venly kingdom. Man is apprehensive of his account-
ability. When the paths of virtue are placed before
him, he sees their excellence, and conscience whispers
that, if he would please his Maker, he must walk
therein. But, from each of these paths, he has wan-
dered ; in all of them, he has fallen. There is a fee-
bleness of his will, an insubordination of his passions,
a prostitution and confusion of his powers; and, conse-
quently, an impurity of his nature, which unfits him,
for the holy abode and presence of his Maker. It is
the office of the Spirit, to move upon this chaos of his
condition; to reduce the confusion to regularity; to
dissipate the impurity, and sublimate the afiections;
and into the dark mass, that is " without form, and
void," to introduce order, and beauty, and meekness,
for the divine approbation. Hence, " the wasting of
regeneration, and renewing of the Holy Ghost," are
connected rs contemporaneous., and co-operative

ON WHITSUNt)AY. 65

means of our salvation. Hence, the earnestness with
which we are exhorted, to seek and cherish the Spirit,
by the tenor of many portions of the Old, and the ex-
plicit instructions of the New Testament. It is
through this Spirit, alone, that we are enabled to
recover ourselves to a state of faith, and obedience,
and to become renewed in our minds " after the image
of Him who created us." He sets apart the faithful
to the service of the Most High, and renders them
meet for his use and favor. Without his aid, they can
attain to no excellency; and without the shadow of
his wing, can be in no safet3\ By him, they are
*' sealed unto the day of redemption." And in that
solemn day of the consummation, to which we are all
rapidly hastening, none will be partakers of " the joy of
the Lord," who have not, in the principles of their
minds, and conduct of their lives, the impression of
This sacred seal. But, in behalf of all those, who
Jiave sure evidence tliat they bear it, the Apostle i)ro-
claims: " We have not received the spirit of bondage
again to fear; but we have received the Spirit of
adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father."

Now, it is to be added, that in all his beneficial
influences, the Spirit is perennial. His truth, instruc-
tions, and promises, and sanctifying graces, are indis-
soluble, and eternal. All the other streams to which
man recurs for knowledge, and for happiness, are
transitory. They are for ever changing. When the
wind bloweth, they are agitated. When the earth is
shaken ; they are turned into other channels. When
the rains are withheld, they are dried up. But the
river of God, is full of water. It never faileth. Its
source, is as independent as the existence, as eternal
as the duration, and as exhaustless as the perfections
of God. It is the same upon the mountain, and in the
valley ; it loses not its efficacy in the tempest or the
calm. If, at any time, we suffer an interruption of
its refreshing influences, the inconstancy is in us, not

vol.. IF. 9

66 ON WHITSUNDAY.

in the waters, which, for ever, flow on in their course.
Like their humble type, they follow the people of God,
in all the windings of their journey, and variations of
their state, until they are brought to the promised
land. Other things fail. Time, and misfortune, and
death, have an evil action, upon all the sources of
man's temporal expectations and joys. But the water,
which, through the Redeemer, is given unto him, will
" be in him a well of water, springing up into ever-
lasting life."

I have now endeavoured to set before you, some
evidences of the reality and necessity of the gift of
the Spirit to believers, in every age; and some consi-
derations which may illustrate its inestimable value
and importance. If I have been successful, you will,
with the woman of Samaria, be ready to say to the
Redeemer, " Give me this water, that I thirst not,"
and will yet indulge me with your patience, while I
point out the channels, through which it ordinarily
flows. 1 say, the ordinary channels; for that the
Deity is not limited by his own appointments, but
may, and sometimes does, accomplish his purposes
towards men, in an extraordinary manner, it would be
presumptuous to deny. But it is in the channels,
through which he hath ordained his Spiritual blessings
to flow, that we are to seek them ; and those channels
are his word, and the ordinances, and prayer.

" Faith," the first principle of tlie new life, " coni-
eth," saith the Apostle, " by hearing; and hearing, by
the word of God." It is in the Scriptures, that the
truths we are to receive ; the motives by which we arc
to be influenced; the graces we are to cultivate; the
hopes we are to cherish, and the purity and happiness
after which we are to aspire, are collected, described
and deposited, by the Holy Spirit. In them, the doc-
trines and promises, the instructions and consolations,
which came down from heaven, are placed by him, as
it were, in a reservoir, that in, and by them, he mighi

ON WHITSUNDAY. 6'7

the more consistently with the laws of Our nature,
carry on his great work of enlightening, purifying,
and comforting the human race. Here the Apostle
speaks of some of his converts, as begotten by the
word; and Jesus, in a prayer for his followers, said,
" Sanctify them through thy truth ; thy word is truth."
To the word of God, therefore, as it is found in the
writings which he hath inspired, and preached by
those, to whom the ministration of it is committed,
we should give the most earnest heed, and diligent
attention. "Blessed is the man" whose "delight is
in the law of the Lord," and who hath in it his medi-
tation "day and night;" for "he shall be like a tree
planted by the water-side, which shall bring forth his
fruit in due season."

Having acquired faith, and knowledge, from the
revelations of irurli, Bai)tlsn> is the appointed laver of
regonerntinn, in which we are washed from the stain
of sin, and begotten anew in Christ, unto the inherit-
ance of the Holy Spirit. In this ordinance, the Com-
forter is niade our own; and were it not for the inor-
dinateness of our i)assions, and the pcrverseness of our
wills, he would abide, constantly, with all those,
whose interest in his graces, has, in this sacrament,
been sealed to them, on the behalf of God. They
are, in this ordinance, made the children of God by
"adoption;" " and because they are sons, Godsends
forth the Spirit of his Son into their hearts, wherebr
they cry, Abba, Father." " Repent, and be bai)tised,"
says St. Peter, " and ye shall receive the gift of the
Holy Ghost." In Confirmation, the title, which, be-
fore, was in the hands of guardians, is put into our
own hands, and we enter actively upon the enjoyment
of the inheritance.

Having been thus conceived unto a new life, by the
word of God, and " born again of water, and ilie
Spirit," we need sustenance to nourish and comfort us,
unto eternal life. This spiritual refreshment, the

68^ ON WHITSUNDAY.

faithful receive in the sacrament of the Lord's Supiier,
At that table, the Spirit waits to distribute his refresh-
ing and enlivening graces. In that ordinance, we
receive the pardon; we recognize the truths; we en-
joy, in figure, the promises, by which the Comforter
enlightens and strengthens, consoles and sanctifies us.
In, and by, the precious streams, which flow for us
around that altar, he enters the hearts of the redeemed,
and becomes in them a " well of water springing up
unto everlasting life."

There is not time, that we should tarry on the sides
of these channels of the Spirit, to mark their depth,
their course, their accessibleness and their happy adap-
tation to our nature, in its present state. Suffice it to
observe, that they are pointed out in Scripture as, the
fountains to which we are to have recourse, for the
waters which Christ has to give, and, as such, have
been acknowledged, guarded, and kept open by the
Church, from her earliest existence.

I add, that Prayer is another great, and appointed
mean of bringing down u[)on us, the blessings of the
Holy Spirit. In the context, it is intimated that, we
must ask, if we would receive the water which the
Redeemer gives. In many other places of Scripture,
this is most explicitly declared. " Ask and ye shall
receive, that your joy may be full." *' If ye, being
evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children,
how much more shall 3'our heavenly Father, give the
Holy Spirit to them, that ask it." Indeed, if it be
inquired why, with such great and glorious resources
in their power, men generally fall so far short of the
perfection of righteousness and peace, I fear, the cause
of it will be found to be, either that they do not recur
to the channels of grace, which have been mentioned,
or, that they recur to them without frequent, earnest,
importunate praj'cr, for the blessing of God.

We have now finished our remarks upon this im-
portant subject. Upon a review of what has been

ON WHITSUNDAY. 69

said, how interesting, how solemn, how nioineiitous
the inquiry, have we received the Holy Ghost? This,
you will answer, not by adverting to occasional trans-
ports of devotion, fervors of enthusiasm, or supposed
illapses of the Spirit, which, generally, proceed from
heated imaginations, and unenlightened zeal, but by
looking in yourselves for those " fruits of the Spirit,"
by which his presence can be certainly known. These,
are said in the gospel to be, " love, joy, peace, long-
suffering, getleness, goodness, faith, meekness, tem-
perance," and such like.

By the absence of these fruits, are we obliged to
apprehend that, in our bosoms, the Comforter has not
his abode. It is an awful apprehension. Let us ask
ourselves, whether we have sought him in the ways,
in which he is to be found ? Do we study with meek-
ness, and receive with affection, the word of God?
Have we performed, as well as we have been able,
our baptismal vows? Are we constant guests at the
table of the Lord, whenever it is spread ? And do we
humbly, and often, " bow our knees to" God and " the
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," " that he would
grant us, according to the riches of his glory, to be
strengthened with might by his Spirit, in the inner
man;" that we may " know the love of Christ, which
passeth knowledge, and be filled with all the fulness
of God." If we have refused to avail ourselves of the
means which he hath so graciously provided, for ob-
taining that, which is of such inestimable value, can
we wonder that, the blessing is withheld; perhaps,
after having been some time enjoyed by us, is taken
away.

Do we find in our hearts and lives, the " fruits of
the Spirit? Let us rejoice with humble joy. Let us
give all diligence to keep the inestimable gift. Chris-
tians; you shall be encompassed with temptations
while you continue in the flesh. Cherish the graces of
the Holy Spirit that when you are week, through the

70 ON WHITSUNDAY.

frailty of your nature, you may in his power be strong.
Christians ; you will, in all probability, be overtaken
by affliction, while you are journeying to the place of
your r^st. Cherish the presence of the Holy Com-
forter,^ that, when under the heavy strokes of her
chastening hand, you are ready to faint, you may, be-
side the waters to which he will lead you, find refresh-
ment and peace. Christians; the hour is coming,
when you shall be compelled to enter the " valley of
the shadow of death." Cherish the friendship of the
Spirit of God, the only friend who can go with you
into that valley, and be of any use to you there. Che-
rish his friendship, that you may be raised above the
fears and sufferings of that tremendous vale, by his
consoling testimony, witnessing, with your spirits, that
you arc the children of God.

SERMON LI.

ON WHITSUNDAY.

I TffESSALONIARS, V. 19.

Quench not the Spirit.

Y the event which the Church this day commemo-
rates, our attention is turned to that glorious mystery
of the Christian economy, the descent of the Spirit of
God, to dwell in men. The visible manifestation of
him, on the day of Pentecost, was the commencement
of his perpetual abode with the faithful. It was the
dispensing of the excellent gift of which every sincere
disciple of the Redeemer, is a partaker; for though
" the sound of a rushing mighty wind," be no more
heard, nor the " cloven tongues like as of fire," seen,
yet, is the Holy Ghost in the heart of every Christian
in a " still small voice," asserting hrs presence, and

72 ON WHITS nNDAY.

waiting to sanctify them wholly, if they will co-ope-
rate with his sacred influence. " I will pray the
Father," says Christ to his infant Church, ''and he
will give you another Comforter, who shall abide with
you for ever." " The promise," says St Peter, " is
to all that are afar off, even to as many as the Lord
shall call." " Because ye are sons," says St. Paul,
" he hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your
hearts." And in allusion to the appearance, with
which the Comforter came upon the Apostles, he ex-
horts the Thessalonians in the text, " Quench not the
Spirit." From which passages, and many others of a
similar sense, as well as from the nature of the gospel
scheme, and the observations of those who have
watched the course of the Christian life, it is abund-
antly evident, that every believer has an interest in
that precious gift, which, on the day of Pentecost,
was poured out upon the Church, so far as it was a
source of light, and purity, and comfort, to those, who
received it. " The manifestation of the Spirit, is given
to every man, to profit withal."

But how says the Apostle, '' Quench not the Spi-
rit?" Is the grace of God resistible? Can man
withstand, and turn away the operations of the Holy
Ghost? Yes, certainly; unless the exhortation in the
text, and very many of the cautions, and denuncia-
tions in the sacred volume, be insignificant, and man,
as to faith and virtue, a mere machine. We are made
rational, and moral beings. As such, God contem-
plates us in all his dispensations. To induce, not
force, our understandings; to assist, not compel us, to
be virtuous; is his purpose in the gift of his Holy
Spirit. This is accomplished, by setting the truth
before us, and enabling us to discern it ; by stirring up
virtuous affections in us, and by the most persuasive
motives, urging us to " refuse the evil, and choose the
good." But in our nature, we know there are princi-
ples opposed to this good Spirit of God. We have

ON WHITSUNDAY. 73

ever a tempter within us. And if, when the Holy
Ghost invites, and would conduct us to the way of
truth and holiness, and " the lust of the flesh, the lust
of the eye, or the pride of life," urges us into devious
paths, we prefer the latter, we are capable of wander-
ing in them, and may fall therein. To deprive us of
the power of choosing, would be to destroy the moral
freedom, which constitutes us accountable beings, and
render our rational faculties useless. *' Not that we
are sufiicient of ourselves," to save or sanctify our-
selves. Our spiritual life is dependent on God. But,
in like manner, is our natural life. He is the source
from whom our daily existence flows. Without the
support of his upholding power, we could not be. *' In
him we live, and move, and have our being." Yet, if
any man, considering that the power of the Almighty
is the support of his life, and that without this sup-
port, his own exertions would be ineffectual, should
neglect to be cautious amidst the dangers to which he
is exposed, and forbear to use the means of sustaining
life, which the Deity has provided, what would be the
consequence? He would soon find that, his concur-
rence with the divine providence, is ordinarily neces-
sary to the preservation of life, and that by negligence,
or the abuse of his faculties, he would perish. So is
it with respect to spiritual life. The Spirit of God, is
the great source of regeneration. By his grace we
are saved, and renewed " after the image of Him who
created us." But this mighty work, is not, ordina-
rily, accomplished without the concurrence of our will
and affections. And if we are at liberty to concur,
and this concurrence be ordinarily requisite by the
constitution of the gospel, we may neglect or refuse to
do it, and render the admonitions and influence of the
Spirit ineffectual. If it be not so, wherefore is the
Almighty introduced in Scripture, as saying; "My
Spirit shall not always strive with man?" Must he
not have met with opposition in the hearts of men,
VOL, rr. 10

/^ ON WHITSUiNDAY.

and been wearied with their iniquities r Wherefore
are they who were " hardened through the deceitful-
ness of sin," said to be unto every good work " repro-
bate?" Did the voice which, some time or other,
speaks in all, not speak in them, and were they without
the offer of that aid, ])y wliich only they could be
saved, left to perish? Wherefore are we exhorted,
not to " resist," not to *' grieve," not to " quench the
Spirit;" and, instead of being encouraged to trust
indolently to his operations, because it is He who
" worketh in us to will and to do," why are we re-
quired, by this very consideration, to be anxiously
active in "working out our own salvation?" Are these
all pious artifices to keep us employed; re(iuirements,
on our compliance with which, the end they propose
to secure, does not at all (lei)end? In short; if (he
influences of the Spirit cannot be frustrated, why are
not Christians altogether blameless, seeing he is ever
willing and at hand ? Why is the voice of the Holy
Comforter in any case unheard, or heard without efl'ect?
That his friendly desires may be rendered inefiectual
by man, the Scriptures do evidently suggest; that they
are rendered ineffectual, the lives of men do, too often,
fully prove.

It is important, then, that we be informed, of the
ways in which we are liable to " (puuich the Spirit."

And this we may do by our heedlessness. If we do
not admit and hear, cherish and obey the sacred admo-
nitions of the Comforter, we may bring ourselves into
the danger of being dci)rived of them. Though the
manner of his operations is mysterious, it is neverthe-
less sensible. In the chaos of our nature, he moves
upon the face of the deep; and if the clamor of the
passions be silenced, and the mind attentive and still,
iiis voice may be heard, raising our affections to the
Deity, and teaching us to trust in his goodness, and
secure his favour; calling to us, to turn from the base
and ruinous paths of vice, and commending to us tlit

ON WHITSUNDAY. 75

waj's of virtue; assuring us of the importance of ouv
eternal concerns, and disposing us, to make a timely
I)rovision for their safety. If these suggestions of the
Holy Spirit be indulged, and we improve them by the
instructions of the word he has dictated, the heavenly
friend will take up his abode in our hearts, and favour
us with new, and fuller communications of himself.
For it is a declared principle of the Christian economy
that, to him " who hath, shall be given, and he shall
have abundantly." But if we disregard his counsels;
if, immersed in the vaniiies of life, we suffer him to lift
up his voice in vain; if when he calls, we refuse to
hear; if when he stretches out his hand, we do not re-
gard it; his slighted influences he will justly withhold,
and leave us to pursue our own course, and reap the
fruit of our own devices.

Again. The Spirit may be quenched by that pride,
which fills men with a confidence in their own un-
derstandings, and a complacent attachment to the
imaginations of their hearts. There are many, who,
when they attend to the truths of religion, are sensibly
warmed with a conviction of their excellence, and in
the management of life, are impressed with a know-
ledge of their obligations to virtue, and checked in
their inclinations to vice. They hear, distinctly, the
voice within them, saying: "This is the way, walk
ye in it, when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye
turn to the left." But the pride of fallen nature, ren-
ders them superior to a counsellor. The arch adver-
sary enables this, his prime minister in the hearts of
men, to persuade them, that the restraints which are
about them, and the emotions of goodness, are the
prejudices of education, and superstitious fears. They,
therefore, prefer the guidance of their own minds, and
pursue their own projects, against every remonstrance.
No wonder, then, that the counsels of the Comforter,
are turned away. The Spirit of God, will not enter
into competition with the reason of man. It is the

76 ON WHITSUNDAY.

duty of the latter to prostrate itself before him. What •
ever truths are contained in the word which he has
inspired, should be embraced ; whatever path is appro*
ved, in the instructions of life which he has given,
should be pursued ; whatever conduct is required by
the dictates of conscience, in wiiich he speaks, should
be observed; however discordant with the vanity of
our minds, and imaginations of our evil heart. Con-
scious of our frailty, we should be meek. Reverenc-
ing his perfection, we should be docile. " God resist-
eth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble."

Further. The Spirit may be quenched, by our
habitual, or presumptuous sins. If we defile this body,
which he condescends to inhabit, by surrendering it to
evil and corrupt affections, it becomes unfit for his
presence. The fire of his love will not burn on the
heart, on which, incense is offered by the passions to
vice. The light of his truth will not shine in the
bosom, which is polluted with iniquity. Besides, to
subdue the dominion of sin, is the great purpose for
which he dwells with men. Every voluntary trans-
gression is, therefore, a counteraction of his work, a
league with his foe; a foe, which, for our sakes, he has
undertaken to destroy. While we continue in this
league, we do " despite to the Spirit of grace," and
may expect a diminution, and, at length, a loss of his
friendly admonitions and aid. For those frailties of
nature, from which none are free; for those errors of
infirmity, into which we may inadvertently fall, he has
compassion. He waits at the door of our hearts, to
guard us from these; and when they surprise us, he
pities our weakness. But by those habitual vices, in
which some allow themselves to live, and those pre-
sumptuous sins, which others commit in violation of
their conscience, and the instructions of God, he is
grieved and offended. " Into a malicious soul," says
the author of the Book of Wisdom, " he will not
enter, nor dwell in the body which is subject unto sin.

ON WHITSUNDAY. 77

The Holy Spirit of discipline, will flee deceit, and
remove from thoughts that are without understand-
ing, and will not abide when unrighteousness cometh
in."

I observe, lastly, that we may *' quench the Spirit,"
by neglecting to recur often to the channels, through
which his graces are usually communicated. Such a
guide and Comforter is worthy to be sought. By
neglecting the appointed means of grace, we, in a strict
sense, deprive ourselves of his services. If we do not
study the word of God, when it is declared to be
written by the Sj)irit of truth, and to be the incorrupt-
ible seed of whlrh we are born again; if we neglect
to join the assembly of the saints, when Christ has
promised that, *' where two or three are gathered toge-
ther in his name, he will be present in the midst of
them;" if we neither seek the blessing of the Spirit,
in acts of public, nor of private worship, when we are
expressly taught to " ask of God, who giveth to all
men liberally, and u|)braideth not;" if we use not the
holy sacraments, which are provided in the Church,
when we know, or should know that, they are " out-
ward visible signs, of an inward spiritual grace given
unto us, ordained by Christ himself, as a means
whereby we receive the same, and a pledge to assure
us thereof;" if we neglect to recur, with proper dispo-
sitions, to these many appointed means of obtaining the
Spirit, the probability is, that his place in our hearts,
will be occupied by the cares and vanities of life; the
holy fire, which once may have burned in our bosoms,
will be liable to go out; he will leave us to *' our own
ways," and, oh, most unhappy portion ! we shall *' be
filled" with the fruit of " our own devices."

You see, then, that you may resist the Spirit; and
in how many ways it may be quenched. Let me, I
pray you, with some portion of the Apostle's concern,
enforce his important caution, by a few weighty, and
afifecting considerations.

78 ON WHITSUNDAY.

Ill the first place; this Spirit, which you are ex-
horted not to quench, is the principle of a new and eter-
nal life ; the holy source of knowledge, purity, and
consolation. Hence, he is styled, with reference to
his offices amons men, the Paraclete, or Comforter;
and hence, his visible descent, as at this time, upon the
Apostles, was a pledge to the whole Church of some-
thing, which should be to her, in her militancy, a sub-
stitute for her absent Lord. Yes, ye lovers of virtue,
conscious of the corruption, and infirmity of your
nature, here is the pledge of " grace sufficient for
5^ou." The Spirit of God, is sent forth for your help.
The light which this Si)irit diffuses, must guide you to
truth, and enamour yon of goodness. He moves upon
the chaos of your disordered nature, and light spring-
eth forth from the darkness; order tiikoth place of llic
confusion of the passions, and moral beauty, and [)ro-
gressive holiness appear, where all was anarchy and
dismaying corruption. Yes, children of sorrow,
who, amidst the disappointments, and bereavements of
life, find nature weak, and anguish strong, you have
here assurance of an heavenly Comforter. The Spirit,
which " proceedeth from the Father, and the Son," is
a Spirit of consolation. L'pon the afflicted soul,
which looks to heaven for help, he will descend ; and
at his voice, the tumult of its sorrows will subside, and
the i)erturbated bosom, be hushed to a calm. Yes,
faithful Christian^ journeying rapidly to the tomb, you
have here the earnest of almighty aid, in that hour,
when nature needs all the assistance which heaven
and earth can give, the hour of death. Your Master,
at his ascension, hath been taken from your head, and
you have been left, with more than the Prophet's
affection to exclaim, " My father, my father, the cha-
riot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof!" But, be-
hold; his Spirit resteth upon his followers. If ye take
up the mantle he has left you, in his word and sacra-
ments, ye shall, in the power of this Spirit, go " on

ON WHITSUNDAY. 79

your way rejoicing; and when ye are brought to the
stream, which separates you from your home, shall be
able to smite the waters and pass over untouched by
their waves. Oh, benighted mortals, encumbered
with imperfections, enveloped in darkness, and trem-
bling at the approach of death, "quench not the
Spirit."

Again. The dignity of the Comforter, and the
price at which his renewing influences upon our fallen
race were procured, should deter us from grieving, or
resisting the Spirit. He is the Spirit of God ; and to
purchase his restoration to the souls of men, the Son
of God expired. What is this event, which we have,
to-day, been commemorating at yonder holy table?
Even the death of Christ; not only to expiate our
past transgressions, but to procure that reconcilia-
tion, and return of the Spirit of God, to our offend-
ing souls, whereby we may walk in newness of
life. As the reward of his obedience and suffer-
ings, Christ received of the Father the promise of
the Holy Ghost; and, as an earnest of the blessing to
his whole Church, shed forth that, on the day of Pen-
tecost, of which you have this day heard. Oh ye,
who have been at the cross of the Redeemer; and
have witnessed the price at which the descent of the
Comforter upon the hearts of sinful man, was pro-
cured: " Quench not the Spirit."

Finally. It is by this Spirit, that the ransomed of the
Lord " are sealed, unto the day of redemption." Strive
then to obtain this Seal, and be careful to preserve it,
by walking with humble minds, in the paths of Chris-
tian obedience; listening, always, to his friendly ad-
monitions within you, and suffering nothing to turn
3 ou aside, from the paths of holiness, which, in the
word of God, he hath marked out for your feet. And
thou, O, blessed Spirit, who, as at this time, didst
descend upon the first followers of the Lamb, vouch-
safe, for his sake, to descend and rest upon our hearts.

80 ON WHITSUNDAY.

Bear with our imperfections. Elevate and purify our
desires^ Enlighten us in ignorance. Comfort us in
sorrow. Guide us in life, and sustain us in that hour,
when death shall separate us from this scene of pro-
bation, for ever, and ever.

SERMON LIL

ON WHITSUNDAY.

Acts, ii. 33^

Therefore, being by the right hand of God exalted, and
having received of the Father the promise of the
Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye now
see and hear.

J. HESE words, are a part of that animated sermon
of St. Peter's, which converted three thousand persons
to the Christian faith. It was delivered on that me-
morable occasion, when the Church received from her
Lord, his richest and most honourable gift. With
simple, yet awful grandeur, the Holy Ghost, sent forth
by the Saviour, had descended upon his Apostles,
while in the exercise of faith and love, they were
waiting for the fulfilment of their Master's promise.
VOL. ir. 11

82 ON WHITSUNDAYi

Uncandid and amazed, the multitude gave to the oc-
currence, and its eOects, the most unreasonable and
blasphemous construction. This, roused the ardor of
St. Peter, and led him, in a very frank, eloquent and
pious discourse, to declare to them, that the same
Jesus, whom they had lately crucified, was the Mes-
siah; that God had, in exact fulfilment of the predic-
tions of the Prophets, raised him from the dead ; that
he had been constituted in heaven, " both Lord nnd
Christ;" and that, "being by the right hand of God
exalted, and having received of the Father the promise
of the Holy Ghost, he had shed forth that, which they
then saw and heard."

In commemoration of this miraculous, and important
event, the day of Pentecost has, from the first ages of
Christianity, been solemnized by the Church; and
under the significant name of Whitsunday, is ranked
amongst her most Joyful festivals. Let us, my bre-
thren, employ our thoughts upon the great purposes, to
which this event had reference, and, if any instructions
may be deduced from the circumstances of it, let us lay
them up in our hearts.

In the first place, the miraculous effusion of the
divine Spirit, was the strongest attestation of the
Saviour's ascension into heaven. On the last Lord's
day, we saw the importance of this article of our
faith, to the design and perfection of Christianity. Our
blessed Lord, desirous of giving to his Church, the
fullest evidence of his glorification, assured his disci-
ples, before his departure from the earth, that in testi-
mony of his exaltation, he would send them a blessing
which could come only from above; "even the Spirit
of truth, which proceedeth from the Father," and
should be in, and abide with them for ever. On this
test, he might have rested the certainty of his ascen-
sion, and, consequently, of our dearest hopes. It was
a test, to which there could be no exception. If, in
token of his ascension into heaven, ho would send rp»

\

ON WHITSUNDAY. 83

his followers such gifts, as could come only from
thence, who would be able to doubt, that he was there
arrived ? If, in demonstration of his accession to his
kingdom in heaven, he would exhibit incontrovertible
evidences of supremacy, who would be able to deny,
that " the Father had committed all things into his
hands?" With holy confidence, the disciples waited
for these fruits of the ascension ; " and when the day
of Pentecost was fully come, were all, with one ac-
cord, in one place." " He was faithful, who had
promised." The great attestation of his " being by
the right hand of God exalted," was heard, was seen,
was felt, and was acknowledged. The divine Spirit,
with expressive majesty descended. In visible form,
it rested upon the A[)ostles, and produced in their
minds and conduct, most wonderful effects. This
great miracle, then, preserves and strengthens the
basis upon which Christianity rests. In this, we have
the strongest proof of our Redeemer's entrance into
heaven, in our behalf. This, is indisputable evidence
of the glorious truth, that the " Captain of our salva-
tion" has " ascended up on high ; has led captivity
captive; and received gifts for men."

Another grand purpose of this miraculous efTusion
of the Spirit was, to qualify the Apostles for the ardu-
ous duties which, after Christ's reception into heaven,
were devolved upon them. His Church, was to be
established in the world. They were to be his wit-
nesses among all people. Through them, his religion
was to be maintained and propagated; the tidings of
salvation to be conveyed to all nations. They stood
in need, therefore, of supernatural endowments. Their
ministry required for the successful discharge of it, the
aid of power from on high. It was necessary that, the
life, the doctrines, and the precepts of the Redeemer,
should be transmitted to posterity. Destitute of hu-
man assistance, and subject to like frailties as other
men, how conkl these primitive disciples have accom-

84 ON WHITSUNDAY.

plished, this important work, without error or omis-
sion, unless the Holy Ghost had " called all things to
their remembrance," and " guided them into all
truth?" It was necessary, that they should publish
the gospel to people, whom they had not kno ^n, and
in countries with which they were utterly unacquaint-
ed. Illiterate, most of them, even in their mother
tongue, how could they have preached, and preached
with eloquence to the inhabitants of all climes, but by
being enabled to use all " tongues, as the Spirit gave
them utterance P" It was necessary, that they should
oppose venerated systems, and attack prevalent man-
ners. Poor and friendless, what could have encour-
aged them, if the Comforter had not given them a
mouth, and wisdom, which all their adversaries could
not gainsay nor resist? In exposing the injustice and
falsehood of the Jews; in reproving the vices of the
Gentiles; in condemning opinions endeared to man by
habit, by superstition, and by interest, they would una-
voidably be exposed to fatigue, to danger, to persecu-
tion and to death. How, then, could they have been
animated to their work; and supported under sufler-
ings, at which nature would have recoiled, if they had
not been furnished with strength from above, and ex-
perienced the truth of tlie Saviour's assurance, " Lo, I
am with you always, even unto the end of the world?"
Tiuis, to qualify, to guide, to encourage and sui>port
the Apostles, in their great duty of maintaining and
extending the religion of Christ, was one imi)ortant
purpose, accomplished in the effusion of the Holy
Ghost. It was an end worthy of the great miracle.
The reality of the occurrence, was evidenced by the
efl'ects of it; for while yet the "cloven tongues, like
as of fire," were visible, nuiltiludes abandoning their
friends, their interest and tlieir ease, believed ; and
before seventy years had elapsed, after the ascension
of the Redeemer, the feet of those who brought good
tidings, and published peace, had trodden all i)arts of

^ / ON WHITSUNDAY. 85

the known world. Without supernatural aid, the
rapid extension of Christianity, in the way in which it
was extended, could never have been accomplished;
and those endowments which were shed upon the
Apostles, on the day of Pentecost, were peculiarly
adapted to the purpose, and adequate to the amazing
effects which were produced. It was " the Lord's
doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes."

Once more. When the Comforter was given visi-
bly to the Apostles, it was an earnest of the fulfilment
of the promise, to be found only in the gospel of
Christ, that the divine Spirit will be ever ready to
instruct the sincere, in the season of inquiry; to
strengthen the virtuous in the hour of temjitation; and
to comfort the good man in the day of adversity. A
moment's reflection will convince us, that man, in his
present state, is able ])ut imperfectly to investigate the
truths, which it most concerns him to know. Reason,
at the best, has but a limited range, and there are pas-
sions and prejudices, which, most unhappily, weaken
and bias its operations. Equally evident is ir, that
our nature is feeble, of itself, to defend the fortresses
of virtue, against the artifices and assaults of vice.
" In many things we oflt'iid all," and the best of our
race, have bemoaned their mability to bring to perfec-
tion, even those virtues, which their minds and their
hearts approve. And who has not known, how hard
the struggles with which the soul supports itself under
the afflictions, which darken its proi)ects, and blast its
joys? In ease and prosperity, it is strong; but in
trouble, it faints; and the cup, which should be to it
as a medicine of life, it converts, by the stubbornness
of its will, into a potion of maddening anguish, or im-
pious discontent. A consideration of these truths, led
the wisest of the heathens to think it necessary, that
the gods should invisibly guide, and comfort the virtu-
ous. And every person, who soberly contemplates
man, groaning under the burden of sin, under the

86 ON WHITSUNDAY.

pressure of affliction, and under the consciousness of'
mortality, must perceive amongst its most pressing
necessities, the want of some source of knowledge,
holiness and consolation, greater, and more constant,
than any thing which frail nature finds in itself. But
who, except the adonible Being that is " l)y the right
hand of God exalted," hath " received of the Father,
the promise of the Holy Ghost?" The purchase and
gift of the Comforter, was the work of Christ. En-
riching his religion with i boon, no where else to be
found, he hath taught mankind, that upon honest
inquiry, active virtue, and humble sorrow, tiic Spirit
of God will ever bestow, its needed aid and blessing.
The precious i)romise is his gift to his Church; pur-
chased for us with his blood, and bestowed upon the
redeemed of every place and gciK^ration. And the
miraculous descent of the Comforter, on the day of
Pentecost, was the confirmation of this joyful doctrine.
It was expedient for the conviction of the multitude,
and for rendering the fulfilment of the promises a|)pa-
rent, that, at the iirst full efl'usion, there should be a
visible and significant descent, lie came, to be to the
Church in her militant state, the holy subsiiditr; for
her absent Lord; ami, in every soul, which is willing
to become a temi)le for liis abode, he is ready lo
dwell; illumining and cheering it with his heavenly
inlluences; cleansing it from all defilement; and iill-
ing it with love, and hope, and peace. This, the
whole tenor of the gospel teaches us. This, the
Apostles declared, while yet the luminous aiipearance
rested upon them, and the Spirit filled the house
where they were assembled. " The promise," said
Peter to the multitude, "is unto you, and to your
children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as
the Lord our God shall call." But the sacred fne,
though no longer visible, still burns in the souls of
believers. The Spirit which then desreiulcd, to pro-
tect the faith and virtue of tlu* i)riiniti\e Cliti^riui^:

ON WHITSUNDAY. 87

to furnish them with connsel and strength, for the dis-
charge of their duties, and to support them under the
trials and troubles which awaited them, is, though
invisible, yet at hand, to continue his benevolent offices
to all the faithful.

Such, are the leading purposes, to which the descejit
of the Holy Ghost had reference. And whether we
consider it, as testifying to us the exaltation of our
Lord, or as qualifying the Apostles to publish his
gospel, and establish his Church; or as being an ear-
nest of the readiness of the Holy Spirit to descend,
and dwell with all believers, it is an occasion for
ardent thanksgiving, and sacred joy. In that view of
it, especially, which encourages us to look for this
holy Comforter, to help our infirmities, and guide us
through the difficulties and sorrows of the region of
sin and mutability, it is a spring of unspeakable eleva-
tion and happiness. But, let us not be unmindful of
the state of those, to whom the " Spirit of truth, and
holiness" was s(Mit.

In the fust place, they were waiting for him with
faith. Believing the word of their Master, they " tar-
ried at Jerusalem, till they should be endued with
power from on high." In like manner, believe ye the
declarations of the gospel. Have confidence in the
promises of God. In all the ways which he hath
appointed, seek, with believing hearts, his gracious
assistance, and, in due time, you also will receive the
Holy Ghost.

Further. The primitive Christians " were of one
iieart and one soul." They observed the same ways;
and thought the same things. That divine love
reigned in their bosoms, and regulated their actions,
which discards whatever is contentious, or unkind;
whatever is injurious to our neighbour, or offensive to
God. In like manner, be it your endeavour, to " hold
the faith, in unity of Spirit; in the bond of peace, and
in rishteousness of life." If vou would have the

88 PN WHITSUNDAY.

Holy Ghost dwell in your hearts, remove therefrom all
envious and malevolent passions; all strife, and dis-
sention; all impurity, contention, or wrong, which
may injure others, or debase yourselves. " For into
a malicious soul, he will not enter ; nor dwell in a
body which is subject to sin. The Holy Spirit of dis-
cipline ^vill flee deceit, and will not abide when
unrighteousness cometh in."

Finally. For the purposes of devotion, the Apostles
"were, with one accord, in one place." It is prayer,
and Christian communion, which brings upon the
faithful the influences of the Holy Spirit. " If any
man lack wisdom," or strength, or comfort, " let him
ask it of God." In asking for the assistances of the
Holy Ghost, he cannot ask amiss; and he has the
most express assurance of his Lord, that whatsoever
he shall thus ask, " believing, he shall receive." If,
at the present day, the power of the Holy Spirit is
little felt, and the fruits of his influences are little
manifested, it is because the ordinances, which are the
channels of his graces, are unheeded, or frequented
with unholiness; and prayer, the powerful and ap-
pointed moan of obtaining his aid, is forgotten, or
neglected. Would you be partakers with the first
disciples, of this extraordinary gift? Imitate their
devotion. Form yourselves, as far as the circum-
stances of your age will admit, after the beautiful
model of a Christian Church, which they have left-
Like them, " continue steadfastly in the Apostles' doc-
trine, and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in
prayers."

These are important instructions, to be derived from
the state of our fathers, and elder brethren in the
Church, upon whom, on the day of Pentecost, the
Holy Ghost descended. Lay them, my Christian
hearers, lay them up in your hearts. And now, O,
Holy Comforter, vouchsafe, unworthy as we are, to
descend and dwell in our souls. Increase and estab

ON WHITSUNDAY. 8^9

lish our faith in the Lord Jesus. Quicken our zeal,
and enlighten our minds. Check and restrain us from
all evil, and prompt us effectually to every good work.
Support and comfort us, under all the allotments of
our probation; and, by thy mighty influences, purify
us to a meetness for that kingdom of glory, to which
our Redeemer is ascended, and where, with the Father,
and with thee, O, Holy Ghost ! He is worthy to re-
ceive glory and honour, dominion and praise, now,
henceforth, and for ever.

VOL. II. 12

SERMON LUI.

ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

JCDE, 3- ^

That ye should earnestly contend for the faiths which
2vas once delivered unto the Saints.

A HIS epistle of Jude, is written to all ** them that
are sanctified by God the Father, and preserved
in Jesus Christ, and called." To us, it has come;
and in it, we have an interest, and may find instruc-
tion. The assertion it contains of the divinity of our
Lord ; the striking description it gives of corrupters of
the faith, and separatists from the Church ; the solemn
admonitions it contains to purity, and constancy, in
our principles and practice, and its affecting allusions
to past dispensations of God, as illustrative of his
gpvernment towards his Church, render it a very im-

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 91

pressive part of holy writ. But, chiefly, must we
admire the solicitude of Jude, about the genuine doc-
trines of the gospel, as they were delivered by Jesus
Christ. For the preservation of these, in their origi-
nal purity, and the exclusion of errors and innovations
from the Church, he was filled with holy anxiety.
*' Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you
of the common salvation, it was needful for me to
write unto you, and to exhort you, that ye should
earnestly contend for the faith, which was once deliv-
ered unto the saints ; for there are certain men crept in
unawares, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God
into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God,
and our Lord Jesus Christ." Let us take this exhor-
tation for the guide of our present meditations. It
will furnish us with some hints, worthy of notice and
remembrance.

In the first place, we may remark, that the faith of
the Church is immutable. It is the same in every age.
The ingenuity of men may form new theories, and
divers schemes of salvation. In the proud exercise of
their reason, they may think to change principles,
and rectify revelation. Or in ages of lukewarmness,
they may suffer fashion to become an arbitress of opi-
nions, and subject to her capricious influence religious
truth. But the counsels and declarations of God, are
unchangeable. They "are the same yesterday, to-
day, and for ever." What was the only true faith, in
the first ages of Christianity, is the only true faith
now. Human reason cannot have added any thing to
the revelations of God. Whenever it attempts to
mend the work of tlie Almighty, it can only manifest
its own presumption and feebleness, and must leave
those, whom it undertakes to guide, in the dangerous
state of perplexity and disputation. In forming our
ieligious opinions, whether with regard to doctrinal
points, or to the constitution and discipline of the
Church, or to the application of practical rules, wr

92 ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

should have recourse to the sacred volume. Here we
may drink at the source of truth ; may derive instruc-
tion from the fountain head of knowledge. If doubts
arise, respecting the coincidence, or interpretation of
any parts of Scripture, they should be discussed by the
light which the primitive Church affords. It should
be a recommendation of a religious opinion, that it
wants novelty ; that it is not the offspring of modern
discovery; for we may be assured, that there is but one
scheme of salvation, but one gospel of truth, and that
this scheme, was fully received; that this gospel was
correctly understood, by those inspired men to whom
the establishment and care of the Church, was first
committed. Venerable antiquity is, therefore, a cha-
racteristic of religious truth. In every case, the old-
est opinion in the Christian Church, is the best. Had
this principle been adhered to, the existence of the
Holy Trinity; the interest of all men in the media-
tion of Christ; the divine origin and distinct orders of
the Christian Priesthood, and the final administration
of a retribution to every man, according to his deeds,
wonld never have been called in question. But the
human mind is never at rest. It has been prone from
the beginning, to leave the ways and word of God,
and " to seek out" for itsdf " many inventions."
*' Be not" ye, brethren, " carried about with divers
and strange doctrines." " Stand in the ways, and see,
and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and
walk therein." Recur for your opinions to the sacred
writings, and to the interpretations and practice of the
primitive Church. These means, together with the
aid of the Holy Spirit, are the only sure means of com-
ing at " the faith, once delivered to the saints."

Again. For those truths of religion, which were
received by the Apostles and primitive disciples of our
Lord, we are to " contend ;" and to contend " ear-
nestly." But, what! is St. Jude a preacher of strife
and contention ; of bigotry and })crsecution ^ No ; by

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 93

no means. It is the duty of every man to love the
truth, and that which a man loves, he will cherish
with ardor, and protect with resolution. It is also the
duty of every man, to set his face against error,
especially, against those errors, by which the revela-
tions of God, the blessed words of eternal life, may
be endangered or corrupted. This he owes to his
Lord, whose cause he is bound, by the highest consi-
derations, to protect in its purity and dignity ; and he
owes it to his neighbour, whom he cannot, consist-
ently with the regard which is due to him, see
estranged from the paths of truth and soberness,
without feeling the most lively concern. But, in doing
this, it is not necessary that he should be filled with
animosity, or neglect any dictate of candor, or charity
towards his fellow men. The same right of judging,
which he asserts for himself, he will be careful, when
there are not obvious reasons for restraining it, to
allow his neighbour to use for himself; and will never
permit a discordance of opinion, to divert the streams
of his benevolence from his brother, but, on the con-
trary, will manifest his love, by the meekness of his
wisdom, and the disinterestedness of his prayers. But,
though he contends for truth with meekness, he will
contend firmly. Though he opposes error with can-
dor and charity, he will oppose it " earnestly;" not
with any view to personal triumph, or to the exaltation
of the party to which he belongs ; but with a single
eye to the glory of God, and salvation of men, which
the predominance of truth alone, can accomplish.

There are some persons, who hear all doctrines, and
are satisfied with almost all they hear. In a state of
easy indifference, they care not to perplex themselves
with laborious inquiries about the doctrines of the
gospel, wishing only that the current of opinions may
pass on smoothly, and that tliey may pass on quietly
with it. This lukewarmness, is peculiarly incompat-
ible with the spirit of the text. Tt proceeds from

94 ON TRIiNlTY 3CNDAY.

indolence, or spiritual insensibility. Every man is
obligated to attend, to what his Maker reveals. " The
faith once delivered to the Saints," must be clear and
definite; for Ave could not, otherwise, be exhorted to
" contend" for it. It must be sublime and interesting;
for it relates to the nature of God, and our own salva-
tion. It must be of unsi)eakable imjiortance ; for the
Son of God, came down from heaven to bring it to us ;
and the Holy Ghost waits, to confirm it in our hearts.
Every Christian, therefore, who is awakened by the
power of the gospel, will apply himself sedulously, to
understand what the will, and the revelation of the
Lord is. Those fundamental princii)les of his religion,
which were received by " the saints," and have been
maintained by the Church, in all ages, will be dear to
his heart. He will cherish ihcm, with such zeal and
affection, as he would feel for their adorable Author,
were he upon the earth. Delusive, and dangerous is
the sentiment, that it matters not what are a man's
principles, provided his life be good. It is " for the
faith," we are charged by the voice of inspiration to
" contend." Indeed, hardly will his life be good,
whose principles are bad. Though a sound faith, may
not always render a man what he should be, yet,
without a sound faith, it is impossible to please God.
For he who cometh unto God, unless he would affront
the majesty of heaven, must believe the truths which
God hath revealed, and live by the doctrines, which he
hath inculcated.

There is, also, a false comi)laisance, which, under
the notion of liberality, would disguise the distinctions
of things, and amalgamate all the different opinions of
men. Liberality, rightly understood, is an amiable
disposition of soul. It is fostered by the si)irit of
Christianity, as the offspring of heav<;u, and chosen
companion of virtue. But there is a dangerous im-
posing principle which assumes its name. It is a
princii»le, however pi.iiisible in appearaiice. which in

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 95

full action would blend, what the Deity hath eternally
separated ; would break down the distinctions which
roust, for ever, exist between that, which is right, and
that which is wrong. This mistaken liberality, can
derive, I think, no plea from its utility, and can find,
I am sure, no countenance in Christianity. The
gospel requires us all to think the same things, be-
cause it teaches all the same things. We should
jepresent its adorable Author, as weak and variable
as ourselves, if we should suppose that, he equally
approves those, who own and adore their God in
their Redeemer, and those, who strip him of his
divinity and worship ; those, who abide by the minis-
try and ordinances, which he hath appointed, and
those, who depart from them altogether. Religion,
admits of no coalition between right and wrong; of
no compromise between truth and error. As Chris-
tians, we are obligated to sanction the currency of
those opinions only, which bear the stamp of the
Almighty, and will be received at the treasury of hea-
ven, in the day of account.

But, from " the faith once delivered to the saints,"
there have been many departures. In the lapse of
time since the coming of Christ, men have corrupted
the truth, and multitudes are in the world, who hold
not " the form of sound words ;" many of them, doubt-
less, through unavoidable ignorance, and involuntary
error. With what spirit are they to be consid-
ered ? Are we to judge them severely, or to carry
ourselves unkindly towards them? Should we, if we
could, let loose the ministers of persecution, or call
''down fire from heaven" to destroy them? Ah, no.
The religion of the Prince of Peace, refuses the aid
of passion and of force. It seeks not the salvation and
happiness of men, in their misery and destruction.
And they who in any age have had recourse to these
means, what shall we say of them ? Alas, they have
not known " what manner of spirit they were of!"

96 ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

That contention for " the faith once delivered to the
Saints," which the gospel requires of us, is not con-
ducted acceptably to its Author, unless the law of
kindness be upon our tongues, and the feelings of cha-
rity in our bosoms. But, while the true Christian
shrinks from a persecuting, he shrinks, also, from a
prevaricating spirit. Charity, can never call him one
way, while truth calls him another. Indeed, the high-
est charity he can confer on his fellow men, is, to use
his exertions in preserving the gospel among them in
its original purity, and promoting its blessed influences
upon their hearts and lives. He abides, therefore,
with zeal, by the ancient and unchangeable doctrines
and institutions of the Church. He manfully avows
his belief in them. He asserts with meekness, yet
with firmness, their authority and importance. He
concedes not, under a mistaken notion of liberality,
any ground to error, nor abates any thing of the high
claims of truth. Yet, he wishes the salvation of all
men; and when he surveys the heresies and schisms
which are in the world, his love for " the faith once
delivered to the Saints," as well as his desire that all
men may find the mercy of the Lord Jesus, unto eter-
nal life, prompts, in his devotions, the ardent prayer,
that it would please God, " to bring into the way of
truth, all such as have erred, and are deceived."

But, the text further suggests to us, what is the
ground, upon which the doctrines of the gospel are to
be defended, that they were " delivered to the Saints."
We are not exhorted to " contend for the faith," which
reason has discovered, or philosophy devised. We
are not exhorted to maintain " earnestly" the princi-
ples, which are level to our capacity, or the opinions
which sagacious inquirers have formed. But we are
exhorted to " contend" for the doctrines and institu-
tions, which were originally received from God. And
this, 1 conceive, is the proper ground, upon which all
the doctrines of the gosi)el are to be embraced ; that

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 97

they were revealed by the Ahuighty. It is the right
employment of our understandings, to ascertain what
the principles were, which the saints received, and to
ascertain, also, that they received them with sufficient
evidence of their coming from God. This done, we
are to believe them, upon the ground of the divine
veracity, and to submit our opinions and lives, entirely
to their control.

But, you will say, there are things in the Scriptures,
for which we see no reason, and mysteries, of which
we have no comprehension. Be it so. This does not
at all disparage their truth. If we will assent to no-
thing, which we do not comprehend, we shall be
unable to believe the testimony of our senses, or the
consciousness of our own minds. For we have not
less comprehension of any of the mysteries of religion,
than we have of the manner, in which our senses con-
vey the images of material objects to our minds, or
than we have of the wonderful, daily miracle, whereby
we retain the being which we are conscious we pos-
sess. The subjects, to which the mysterious doctrines
of our faith relate, we have not faculties to scan.
*' They are high as heaven! what can we do? They
are deeper than hell ! what can we know ?" And as
to the institutions and requirements of the gospel,
whose necessity, or fitness, we cannot perceive, God,
surely, is not obliged to give to his creatures a reason
for the mode, in which he chooses to convey to them
his blessings. Whatever he has vouchsafed to reveal
to us, of his nature or will, we are to receive with the
submissiveness of pupils, with the docility of little chil-
dren. And, indeed, pupils we are, at our best estate,
who need some one to instruct us concerning the divine
nature, and our own duty and destination. We are
no more than children, who have not faculties for
acquiring the knowledge, nor powers for obtaining the
treasures, which are essential to our everlasting peace,
and whom it becomes, to receive, with all humility and

VOF.. Ih 13

98 ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

obedience, whatever instructions our heavenly Father
sees jfit to give us. The mysterious doctrines of his
word we are to embrace, not because we comprehend;
but, because they are taught us by that Being, who is
too wise to be deceived himself, and too good, to
deceive his children. Our own understandings are, in
matters of revelation, to be subjected to the obedience
of faith ; and all the imaginations of our minds, and
inclinations of our wills, to be brought into captivity
unto Christ.

In the remainder of this discourse, I shall apply
what has been said, to a subject which has all the
while been in my view; the sublime and im|»ortant
doctrine of the Trinity. Having, in the festivals
which we have successively celebrated, from Advent
to this day, set before us the distinrt offices of the Son,
and the Holy Spirit, in our salvation, the Church, to-
day, calls us around the altar of Christian faith, " to
acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in
the power of the divine Majesty, to worship the
Unity." This mode of the existence of the divinity, by
a Trinity of Persons, in one undivided essence, is,
indeed, " the faith, once delivered to the Saints;" for
it was exhibited in the morning of creation; it was
taught to the chosen i)eople in the names, and by the
circumstances, under which Jehovah manifested him-
self to them; it is illustrated to those, who have a
spiritual discernment, by many striking analogies in
the natural world ; it is unequivocally asserted by
Christ and his Apostles; and it has been the prevailing
faith of the Church, in all ages of its existence. It is
a very essential, and important doctrine of our religion,
and, therefore, we are " earnestly to contend" for it.
On it, depends the consistency and significance of
Scripture; the greatness and sufficiency of the atone-
ment; the lawfulness and pro|)riety of the homage
with which we honour the Son and the Si)irit, " even
as we honour the Father:" the fulness of the Chris-

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 9^

lian's comfort and confidence; and liis happy assur-
ance, that his Lord is adequate to the supply of all his
necessities, and "able," by his mighty power, "to
subdue all things unto himself." The ground on
which it is to be believed is, that it is taught us in the
revelations of God. To comprehend, or explain, this
mysterious existence of three Persons in one God, is
utterly beyond our power. Nor should this, in any
degree, surprise us. Our minds would be infinite, it
we were capable of apprehending, fully, the mode of
existence of an Infinite Being. He, alone, is capable
of informing us concerning it, by whom, alone, it is
comprehensible. For our instruction and comfort, he
has graciously manifested himself to us, under the cha-
racters, in which he eternally exists; and draws us to
him, by each of these characters, as the Father devis-
ing, the Son purciiasing, and the Holy Ghost, applying
that merciful redemption, by which we are saved from
our sins, and begotten again to the inheritance of
eternal life. And, " O, man, who art thou, that repli-
est against God!" What are thy powers, that thou
shouldest scrutinize the account, which thy Creator
hath given of his own existence! Go, say of the
pebble under thy feet, by what mysterious power its
parts cohere! Go, tell of the colours which refresh
thy sight, how they exist in the tulip, and in the bow;
and by what mysterious connection they are imaged
by thy eye to thy mind! Go, say of that reason, in
which thou vainly boastest, how it exists in conjunction
with thy body, and actuates thy will ! Not, till thou
canst guess aright concerning the things that are upon
the earth, can it become thee to cavil at the revelations
of God. Betake thee, rather, to the Father, through
the mediation of the Son, by the power of the Holy
Ghost; and beseech the Eternal God, to give thee
grace, to confess the true faith, and to keep thee
steadfast in this faith^ evermore.

100 ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

My brethren, in this age of innovation, when human
reason exalteth itself, as the standard of all truth,
many are found, who depart from " the faith once
delivered to the Saints," and by stripping him of his
Divinity, do, in effect, " deny the Lord who bought
them." At such a time, it is peculiarly incumbent
upon you, whose lot God has graciously cast in a
Ch6rrch, in which " the form of sound words" is, and
ever has been preserved, to assert zealously, and main-
tain inviolably, this ancient article of our holy faith.
Listen not to their language, and peruse not their
works, who, under a show of philosophy, and supe-
rior reason, would carry you away from this funda-
mental doctrine. Teach your children, and your
children's children, the existence of the three gracious
Persons in the " one" only " living and true God ; and
accustom them to render the due, and appropriate
homage to each of the names, into which they were
baptised.

SERMON LIV.

ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

I JOHK, V. 7.

There are three that hear record in heaven^ the Father^
the Wordy and the Holy Ghost; and tJiese three are
one.

T is a peculiar excellency of our Church, that, while
she preserves in purity the morality, she is not negli-
gent of the doctrines of Christianity. By the perfec-
tion of her arrangements, all the grand doctrinal
truths of the gospel, are, in the course of the year,
presented to her sons for special contemplation. By
this means, she secures from neglect, or perversion,
those points of faith, which are the essentials of our
religion, and, at the same time, renders unnecessary,
those frequent disputations upon doctrinal subjects*

102 ON TRINITY SUNDAY,

which do not make men either wiser or better. Hav-
ing lately exhibited to us the mercy and holiness of
God, the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of
Christ, and the descent of the Holy Ghost to abide
with Christians, she, to-day, calls us to collect our
thoughts and contemplate that mystery of revelation,
the holy and eternal Trinity. A subject this, solemnly
sublime ; and offered to finite minds, as a matter for
belief, not comprehension. Every endeavour, with
merely human faculties, to comprehend tliis mysrriy,
must prove futile; for " can we by searching find out
God; can we find out the Almighty to perfection ? It
is high as heaven; what can we do? Deeper than
hell; what can we know? The measure thereof is
longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." The
business of the Christian, to-day, is, not to indulge in
human speculations; not to be beguiled by the pride
of human reason, but to recur, with humility, to that
fountain, which Deity has set open for his instruction,
and to draw thence the truth, with which his Church
now requires him to refresh his memory. Impressed
with these sentiments, I have selected as a guide to
your thoughts, the plain and explicit declaration of
John, which was read at the opening of this dis-
course: " There are three that bear record in heaven,
the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost; and these
three are one."

In discoursing from these words, I shall endeavour
to show;

First, that the Godhead is one:

Secondly, that in this Unity of the Godhead, there
is a Trinity of Persons ; and.

Thirdly, that the Persons of the Trinity are co-equal
and co-existent.

The illustration of these several points, will be ad-
duced, almost wholly, from Scripture; for, I aver, that
such is this mystery, as to leave it altogether improba-
ble, perhaps impossible, that it should have beec

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. lOS

devised by the human mind ; and that, therefore, we
indulge our vanity, and our aversion to spiritual
truth, when we look for the circumstances of it, else-
where than in the records of divine revelation.

This premised, I proceed to show, in the first place,
that the Godliead is one. The unity of the divine
essence, is^ throughout the sacred volume, made the
fundamental article of true religion. It is probable
that, information upon this point was communicated
to man, when, in a state of innocence, he conversed
with his God ; and that it descended by tradition to
after generations, till it was lost in the commixture of
human corruptions. So consentaneous is it with pure
reason ; so essential to the rational idea of a supreme
cause, that we find it separated from the crude mass
of polytheism, by the most enlightened heathen sages,
who possessed as clear perceptions of it, as could be
expected among nations, whose gods were as nume-
rous as the whims of fancy, and who were idolatrous
by institution. When Deity, that he might revive and
preserve among men, a knowledge of himself, gave to
the Jews the Old Testament revelation, he founded
their temple, their rites, and their obedience, upon the
truth, " The Lord, he is one God, there is none else
beside him." The universal language of the Old
Testament is, *' 1 am the first, and I am the last; and
beside me, there is no God." When in the fulness of
time the whole counsel of the Most High was mani-
fested by Jesus Christ, mankind were taught that,
eternal life depended upon knowing the " one living
and true God." The acknowledgement of the Re-
deemer is not more essential to Christianity, than a
belief in one Supreme Creator of all things, and
Governor of the universe, the true and incomprehen-
sible God. We have one Father, even God. To us
there is one God. There is none who doeth good
but one, that is God. So that, whether we consult
with reason, with the historians and proi>hets of the

104 ON TRINITY SUNDAY.

Old Testament, with Christ himself, or with the wri-
ters of the gospel, we shall be taught the unity of the
Deity.

I now proceed to show, secondly, that in this
unity of the Godhead, there is a Trinity of Persons.
XJnable to comprehend perfectly the nature of Deity,
man, of himself, can predicate nothing concerning the
mode of his existence. All knowledge upon this
point, must come from the oracles of truth ; and they
abundantly substantiate the present position. My text,
in as plain words as can be written or spoken, declares,
that three divers Persons in heaven, were active in,
and about, the redemption of man; and that these
three existed in the unity of the Godhead. " There
are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, the
AVord, and the Holy Ghost, and these three are one."
I know, that the autlienticity of this passage has been
disputed, and that the foes of the orthodox faith have
parried it, by calling it an interpolation. The objec-
tion evinces the difficulty of clothing the passage, with
any other construction, than that which has been
given, and thus secures it from that perversion, whicli,
to accommodate human reason, or rather human igno-
rance^ many passages of tlie New Testament have been
made to endure. Admitting, however, that the authen-
ticity of this passage is not certain, our position docs
not depend upon this one passage of sacred writ for
support. At the baptism of Christ, the Scripture his-
tory exhibits to us the Holy Three severally engaged;
the Son receiving this sacrament, the Spirit descending
upon him, and the Father proclaiming his character.
The Apostles wish to their brethren, the grace of the
Lord Jesus, the love of God, and the fellowship of the
Holy Spirit. The Saviour, himself, when commis-
sioning his ministers, commanded them to baptise " in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost." To adduce no more of the texts,
which every where abound in the gospel, to wave the

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 105

traces of this truth in the writings of some heathens,
and in many of the acts, titles, and adorations of the
Sui)reme Being under the Jewish dispensation, and to
avoid mentioning the conjectures of wise and good
men, concerning the symbolic representation of the
Trinity, in every created object, let me ask, what the
opponents of the doctrine will do with the passages
above quoted ? Will they make these vital parts of
the gospel, interpolations? No. They prefer giving
to them a sense of their own. Instead of humbly
following the direct, and literal signification of Scrip-
ture, upon a subject infinitely above their comprehen-
sion, they have warped, and bent the word of God, to
their own conceptions, till some, with Arius, have
" denied the Lord who bought them," reducing Christ
to a mere creature; others, with Sabellius, have ren-
dered the conduct of Jesus, and the institutes of his
religion, ridiculous, by supposing them to have com-
manded Christians to be baptised, and blessed, first,
in the name of the Father, the one entire Deity, and
then, in names appropriated, not to diflferent beings,
but to energies of that same Deity ; and others, with
Socinus, who make the Redeemer of our Souls, a
mere human being. These schemes, and the various
branches of Unitarianism, diverging from each of
them, are not the result of a candid reading of the
Scriptures; but of finite speculations concerning the
secrets of heaven, and foolish endeavours of men, to
measure the mysteries of revelation by their narrow
capacities. Whoever will read the Bible, with an
honest intent to ascertain its doctrine upon this point,
will find all the parts of it concurrent with the decla-
ration in my text, " There are three that bear record
in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy
Ghost."

I hasten now to show, thirdly, that the Persons of
the Holy and ever Blessed Trinity, are co-equal and
<?r)-existent. This is implied in the last clans© of the

vor^ IK 14

106 ON TRINlxr SUNDAY.

text, " these three are one." No one can need to be
informed, that the Father is fully, and essentially God
over all blessed for evermore. Now, if it can be
proved from Scripture, that the Son is God, and that
the Holy Ghost is God, it will clearly follow, that the
Holy Three are co-equal and co-existent. Deity is
designated in Scripture, by titles appropriated to him ;
by honours due to him ; and by attributes which can
bo predicated of none but the Supreme Being. He,
therefore, to whom theso titles, honours, and attri-
butes are assigned, must be God. Each, and every of
them, are, in numberless passages of the sacred writ-
ings, given both to the Son and to the Holy Ghost.
As my time has almost elapsed, a few texts establish-
ing the divinity of each, shall be adduced, and recol-
lection, or your Bibles, will fusnish you with a variety
of others. First of the Son. It was lately shown to be
an essential article of Christianity, that Christ should
judge the world. St. Paul speaking of this judgement,
has this remarkable passage, " we shall all stand before
the judgement seat of Christ; for it is written: As I live,
saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every
tongue shall confess to God. So, then, every one ol*
us shall give account of himself to God." Here the
Apostle expressly makes Christ God, and it is observa-
ble, that he alludes to a passage in Isaiah, in which
these very words are represented as coming from Jeho-
vah, a name so solemnly appropriated to the Most High,
that the Jews never pronounced it. St. John declares
the Logos, or Word, to be God, and to have been the
Creator of all things which were made. John, in the
chapter from which the text is selected, styles Jesus
Christ, "the true God." In Jude, he is called, "the
only wise God." In Romans, he is said to be " over
all, God blessed for ever." The Redeemer of Israel,
the ^ aviour, the Messiah, is called by the Prophets
" King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the first and the
last:" and in the New Testament, with allusion to

ON TRINITY SUNDAY. 107

these expressions, the same titles of divinity are given
to Christ. Divine worship was ordered by ihe Father
himself, to be offered to the Son: " Let all the angels
of God, worship him." He received adoration from
his Disciples when present, and the primitive Chris-
tians worshipped him as God. In a word. Omni-
science, Omnipotence, Eternity, Infinite Goodness,
all the attributes which can be inherent in God alone,
are declared to be in Christ, in so express terms, as to
admit of no equivocation, and so numerous passages,
as to render a selection unnecessary. From all which
it appears, that Jesus Christ was true, and very God.
It is objected, that he sometimes speaks of himself as
inferior to the Father. He does so. But, whenever
he does, the critical observer will find, he speaks in
his human capacity, viewing himself as man. Let me
have your patience a few moments longer, while I
adduce some Scripture evidences that the Holy Ghost
is God. Jehovah, in Isaiah, commands the Prophet
to go to the people, and utter certain words, and Paul
speaks of the same commission as given to Esaias, by
the Holy Ghost. Jeremia!i, represents Jehovah as
resolving to make a new covenant with Israel, and in
the Epistle to the Hebrews, this resolution is attributed
to the Holy Ghost, as though the names were synoni-
mous. The Apostle Peter, condemned Ananias for
lying to the Holy Ghost; and, immediately to show
the heinousness of the offence, tells him he had " lied
unto God." In both the Epistles to the Corinthians,
Christians are styled the temples of God, because the
Spirit of God dwells in them. The Holy Spirit is
said to have been active in the creation; to have
moved upon the face of the water ; to have garnished
the heavens, and to have given life to man. As well
as the Father, and the Son, he received divine honours.
All the attributes of the Divine Essence are spoken of,
as belonging to the Holy Ghost. He is Omniscient,
for he searcheth all things, leadeth into all truth, and

108 ON TRINITY SOMDAY.

is- the Spirit of Wisdom and revelation. He is Omni-
present, for God is said to dwell in us by his Spirit,
and the Psalmist inquires, uhither he should i;o from
the Holy Spirit. He is Omnipotent. "All these,"
says St. Paul, " worketh that one, and the self same
Spirit, dividing to every one severally, as he will." He
is Eternal. He existed before the worlds, and abideth
for ever. In short, the Scriptures attribute all the
insignia to the Holy Ghost, by vvhicli tiie Supreme
God is ever, and alone, distinguished. Thus, it is
evident, that such as the Father is, such is the Soa.
and such is the Holy Ghost, and, consequenUy, that
the Persons of the Holy Trinity are co-equal aiid cO'
existent.

That the texts which have been adduced arc not
corruptions, is evident from a comparison of the vari-
ous versions of the IS^ew Testament which exist. That
they are not misunderstood, is morally c(Mtain, from
their being thus construed by all the primitive Chris-
tians, even those who had conversed with the Apostles,
and from their being alwa3's thus explained by the
Church, till the human mind was made the test of
divine truths.

We have now seen, tliat the Divine Essence, or the
Godhead, is One; that in this Unity of Essence, there
is a Trinity of Persons, and that these Persons are
co-equal, each being "very God." This is the doc-
trine of the Bible. This is the doctrine held undis-
turbed by the Ciiurch for the lirst three centuries, from
the establishment of Christianity. Tiie enemies of
the catholic faith evince, by their contradictions,* its
foundation in the gospel, for Sabellius and Socinus
were so convinced of the divinity of the Si)irit, that
they made him the same person with the Father; and
Arius, and Macedonius, were so satisfied with the
distinction of the Persons of tise Three, that they con-
sidered the Word and Spirit as Kiere creatures. Had
it not been for the pride of man's hearty for his desire

ON TRIMTY SUNDAV. 109

to unveil the secrets of heaven, and to measure divine
truths by finite faculties, this great mystery of our
religion, might have escaped the attack of its foes,
and, resting ujion the evidences which prove the
authenticity of our religion, might have commanded
the humble belief of every disciple of Christ. It is,
perhaps, an unpleasant feature of modern divinity,
that the prevalent desire of sinii)lifying Christianity,
has given birth to many, who would cut this mystery
because they cannot solve it; and as the Bishop of
Connecticut* has expressed it, " take from their Re-
deemer his eternal power and Godhead." Let us,
my friends, learn from what has been said, to " hold
fast the form of sound words," and " the faith once
delivered to the Saints." That we cannot conceive,
how the three are one substance, and yet distinct Per-
sons, should not shake our faith, for we are equally as
unable to conceive, how the soul, mind, and body
constitute one man; or how natural causes produce
their consequences, or even how we think, believe, or
reject. Convinced, that the doctrine of the Trinity is
the doctrine of the Bible, we siiould not listen to
" vain babblings," but the language of our hearts
should be, " yea, let God be true, and every man a
liar."

Now to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy
Ghost, three Persons and one God, be ascribed the
kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.

"* Bishop Seabury.

SERMON LV.

ON THE FESTIVAL OF ST. MICHAEL AND
ALL ANGELS.

Hebrews, i. 14.

Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to 7ninisT
terfor them ivho shall be heirs of salvation?

E have just risen, my brethren, from acknowledg-
ing before God, that he hath " constituted the services
of angels and men, in a wonderful order." And,
indeed, it is worthy of praise, in the economy of our
Church, that while she celebrates, regularly, the mys-
teries of our religion, and commemorates the actions
and character of the Apostles, and distinguished disci-
ples of our Lord, she reminds us, annually, of our
connection with the higher orders of intelligences,
and leads us to contemplate, whatever the Scnpture^i

'ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. Ill

have revealed, concerning the angels of God. On this
festal day, which happily combines the joys of the
Sabbath, with the pleasures which may spring from
contemplating what knowledge we have of these
heavenly hosts, we shall make them the theme of our
discourse ; endeavouring to show you,

In the first place, that these exalted Beings, denomi-
nated Angels, do exist :

Secondly, that they take an interest, and have an
influence, in the affairs of this visible world; and,

Thirdly, that the doctrine concerning them, affords
many inferences, conducive to our comfort and reli-
gious improvement.

That there are higher orders of intelligent beings
than man, has been, with common consent, believed ia
all ages. The Demons of the ancients, a name which
they used in a good, as well as bad sense, were many
of them supposed never to have inhabited material
bodies; and answer exactly, to the powers of heaven,
which, by us, are styled Angels. The very name,
Angels, does sometimes occur in ancient heathen wri-
tings; and the beings whom it designates, are known
to the oldest Poets, and introduced into the discourses
of almost all the Philosophers. Plato, styles them
" reporters and carriers from men to the gods, and
from tlic gods to men ; and Apuleius has this remark-
able expression, " all things are done by the will,
power, and authority of the gods, but, withal, by the
service and ministry of the Demons," or Angels.
These notions, are the common notions of mankind,
found among them in every age, more or less definite,
according to their situation and means of refinement.

And, indeed, when we consider the vast extent of
die universe; when we observe the splendid, and
richly furnished parts of it, which we behold above us,
and, on imagination's wings, pass the limits of sense,
and contemplate the unbounded space, over which the
everlasting God presides, it can hardly seem probable.

il2 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.

that this little globe, this spot which we inhabit, is the
only part of his great domain, which he has seen fit to
people. Below us, we see a beautiful gradation of
creatures, from that, in which solitary sensation first
awakes, to a being, who thinks, and reasons, and
knows his God. That this tliinking being, man, is the
most perfect intellectual creature in the universe ; that
there is a vast, a tiresome, an awful chasm between
him and the great Creator, improved reason does not
readily admit. Analogy suggests, and the suggestion
comports much more easily with our ideas of the wis-
dom, power, and g.oodness of God, that man is the
link, which connects the material, with the intellectual
world; and that there arc above us, gradations of
beings, equally regular, and infinitely more grand, than
those, which we behold below us.

It must, however, be confessed, that these deduc-
tions are not obvious to the ca[)acities of the mass of
mankind. Their common consent upon a subject, not
cognizable, without a miracle, by their senses, has,
probably, been derived by tradition from revelations and
manifestations, made to the parents of the race, in the
happy morning of the world. I am the more confirmed
in this oi)inion by the fact, that in tiie Scriptures, the
existence of Angels is no more made a new revelation,
than the existence of God. Both are presumed to have
been before understood. When the appearance of an
Angel is first mentioned in the sacred volume, no prepa-
ratory information is given concerning him. The reader
is not supposed to be surprised; nor does the writer
appear to apprehend, any necessity of explaining his
nature or office. He is mentioned, as one of an order
of beings, with whose existence mankind were already
acquainted. It is, therefore, highly probable, that this
was among the communications, which the Almighty
made to man, in the earliest age of the world; and
that, like many other communications, it was both
preserved <md corrupted by passing through the pol-

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 113

luted channels of tradition, among the successive gene-
rations of men.

But, be this as it may, in us, who possess the holy
records of truth, there can be no doubt of the exist-
ence of angelic beings. " The hosts of heaven," and
" the angels of God," are spoken of in every part of
Scripture. Wc are taught, that they are numerous,
for we read of " an innumerable company of Angels;"
of " legions," that might be dispatched to the service
of Christ; and of the holy myriads of their hosts. In
the order of nature, they are superior to man; for he
is said to be " made lower than the Angels." They
are eminently wise, and good, and incapable of decay;
for he, who has much wisdom or goodness, and they
who shall die no more, are compared, in the language
of inspiration, to " the angels which are in heaven."
They are endowed with superior force and vigour, for
they arc styled " mighty," and "swift" angels; and
the Psalmist extols them as " excelling in strength."
We may believe that, they are of different grades, and
that in every grade there are subordinations, for we
hear of Michael, one of the "princes;" of " Cheru-
bim" and "Seraphim;" of "Angels" and "Arch-
angels;" of "thrones and dominions; principalities
and powers;" and of "seven" distinguished "spirits
of God." They are accountable beings ; for those
" who kept not their first estate, are reserved in chains
of darkness unto the day of judgement to be punished."
In their office, the Angels wait upon the Almighty.
Wherever he holds his court, they attend him ; consti-
tuting his august retinue, his magnificent train. Cho-
sen bands of them surround him, displaying his glory,
whenever he vouchsafes to give a visible manifestation
of his presence. In the high and lofty abode, in which
he everlastingly dwells, " tJiousand thousands" of
them, minister unto him, and " ten thousand times ten
thousand stand before him."

VOL. ir. 15

114 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.

We see, then, from tradition, from the reasonable-
ness of the thing, and from what the Scriptures con-
tain, the certainty of the existence of Angels. It
becomes now, an interesting inquiry, whether these
exalted beings, have any knowledge of what is trans-
acted on our earth ; or take any interest in the affairs
of men. And, perhaps, we shall be surprised to find,
how great concern the Angels of God have, with this
terrestrial world.

That they know, and observe, what is done among
men, is indisputable. St. Paul says, expressly, that
" we are a spectacle unto angels;" and we are taught,
that " unto the principalities and powers in heavenly
places, is made known by the Church the manifold
wisdom of God."

But they not only know, they take a lively interest
in, whatever is done in this sublunary part of their
Maker's dominion. In that memorable commence-
ment of a new epoch in the universe, when the corner
stone of this earth was laid, and the creation of its
inhabitants accomplished, " the morning stars," the
hosts of heaven, sang together, " and all the sons of
God," the elder offspring of the Most High, " shouted
for joy." These pure and benevolent sjiirits, rejoiced
in the creation of our world, which would enlarge the
theatre of the Almighty's glory, and multiply the
beings, who would taste his beneficence, and adore his
name. When, therefore, the earth came from his
hands, and its inhabitants were formed, and pro-
nounced good, their voices resounded through the
arches of heaven, celebrating the creature's happiness,
and the Creator's praise.

There has been another memorable occasion, on
which the Angels manifested the lively interest, which
they take in the affairs of men. It was at the incar-
nation of the Son of God. Tliis was, indeed, the
commencement of a new creation. A race of intelli-
gent beings, who had fallen, were now to be ransomed

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 115

from destruction. The foundation was now laid, of " a
new heavens and a new earth," in which would finally
dwell righteousness, and all its concomitant bliss.
When, therefore, the Saviour was born, an Angel re-
joiced to be the herald of the news, to the sons of men :
and a multitude of the heavenly hosts, obtained permis-
sion to accompany him on the delightful errand. Scarce-
ly had the messenger delivered his tidings of joy, when
there burst from the bosoms of these exalted spirits, an
anthem, which echoed through the " temple not made
with hands," bearing glory to the Author of this great
salvation, and gratulations to the objects of it. It is
not, however, on these great occasions oidy, that the
Angels have been interested in sublunary events.
They are always made glad, by the happiness of any
of the offspring of their king, and by the accomplish-
ment of his will, in any part of his kingdom. Into
the gracious scheme, devised for the recovery of our
race, they, with affectionate concern, " desire to look;"
and, whenever it is successful, in reclaiming an un-
happy wanderer from the error of his ways, " to the
wisdom of the just," they feel the joy, rejoicing, we
are told, in the presence of God, " over one sinner that
repenteth."

But, I have to observe further, that as the Angels do
know, and take an interest in the affairs of our world,
so they have a considerable care, and influence over it.
Not, that the Almighty needs their aid. He is able,
by his own inherent power, to accomplish with a word,
all the purposes of his will. But, in his wisdom, he
sees fit to employ the creatures he has made; partly,
no doubt, that they may adorn the creation by doing
him service, and be capable of the pleasures and re-
wards of fidelity. Accordingly, the Angels are often
made the instruments of his providence; and have
their offices towards the human race. This, was im-
pressively revealed to the sorrowful Patriarch at
Bethel, in that wonderful vision, which was there

IIG ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.

vouchsafed to him, of a ladder reaching from earth to
heaven, with " the angels of God ascending and de-
scending upon it." The wandering Jacob learnt from
it, what every wandering pilgrim upon earth may
learn, that these hosts of God are constantly employed,
in the protection and service of his faithful creatures.
I shall pass over the opinion, entertained by the Jews,
and current, sometimes in a disguised form, among the
heathens, that every nation is the peculiar province of
some tutelary Angel. Nor shall I dwell upon the
sentiment, which the opinion of Socrates has con-
spired, with the feelings of men, to render striking
and interesting, that every individual is the charge of
some particular spirit, who is the guardian of his con-
duct and fortunes. Upon these points, I apprehend,
men must be left to their own judgements; since reve-
lation furnishes no absolute, unequivocal instructions,
concerning them. What I am chiefly anxious to state,
and my text presses upon your observation, is, that
good men have the regard and services of the Angels
of heaven. Upon this subject, the Scriptures arc
exi)licit. The hosts of God are beautifully repre-
sented in them, as " encamping around the dwellings
of the jiibt." Tiic Almighty is said to "give his
Angels charge over" the upright, " to keep them in all
their ways." And, if we need a declaration, i^lainer
than these, we have one, in the words which 1 have
placed at the head of this discourse, as unecpiivocal as
language can express; "Are they not all ministering
spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be
heirs of salvation."

Tiie way, in which these holy spirits extend their
services to men, is generally imperceptible. They did,
indeed, visibly withstand the perverseness of Balaam.
They did sensibly protect Lot, and reward his i)urity
and piety. And in the days of his temptation, and of
liis agony, they were sent to " minister" unto Christ.
But, generally, and for very apparent reasons, their

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 117

" succour and defence" is not obvious to the senses.
We know not, how many of our spiritual enemies
they may oppose and vanquish. We are ignorant,
from how many unseen dangers, they may preserve
us. But this wo are assured, that the sincere disciples
of Jesus, however low and obscure their lot, are con-
stantly the charge of Angels, " who behold the face of
his Father in heaven." Hence we may infer, that
they render them many and great services. The
Almighty " rides upon the Cherubim" to their help.
He makoth the Angels his chariots, when he visits
them with his mercies. It is probable, that in the
final scene of this probationary life, when the souls of
men need all the support, which heaven and earth can
give, that these blessed ministers of light redouble
their symi)athy and succour. We may gather from
one of the parables of our Lord, that they wait about
the death beds of the just, to conduct the departing
spirit " to Abraham's bosom ;" and from what is
recorded by St. Jude, of the care of Michael over the
body of Moses, we may safely suppose, that even that
dust of the righteous is not viewed by them with indif-
ference, which, through the promises of the Almighty,
"rests in hope." These spirits, we know, will be
active agents, in the morning of the resurrection.
When the Son of Man shall come in his glory, his
holy angels will come with him. He will send them
" to gather his elect from the uttermost i)art of the
earth, to the uttermost part of heaven." They are the
reapers, who, in the time of the harvest, will separate
the chaff from the wheat; and gather the latter into
the garner of God.

Such, is the doctrine of the Scriptures concerning
Angels. But it may be asked, Of what use is this
doctrine to us? I answer; of very great use. It
affords many inferences, highly conducive to our com-
fort, and religious improvement.

1 18 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL AiNGLLe.

For, ill the first place, it extends our knowledge ot
the greatness of our God. Consider, that these my-
riads of exalted intelligences, derive their being from
Him. He " calleth them all by their names." They
are daily upheld in (existence by his power. They are
all under his control; subservient to his will: ready in
all parts of his universe to " do his pleasure.*' How
great is He who made, sustains, and rules them all !
Verily, when we return from our contemplation of this
part of his dominion, to our own little earth, and sur-
vey what is done visibly beneath the sun, we may
exclaim with Job, " Lo, these are parts of his ways,
but how little a portion is heard of him."

Again. The subject we have contemplated, ma)
increase our admiration of the goodness of God.
What infinite benevolence is that, M'hich for the diffu-
sion of hapi)iness, has so multiplied the orders of
being! How incalculably great is the sum of bliss,
which, flowing perpetually from the Deity's right
hand, causes these countless hosts of exalted creatures,
to rejoice in the existence, which they have received of
the Most High! And how great is his mercy and
goodness to us -men, that he hath given his Angels
charge over us; that he hath sent forth these great
and glorious spirits, to ministiM- unto us. " Bless the
Lord, O, our souls, and all that is within us, bless his
holy name!*'

Further. This doctrine we have been considering,
fiirnisiies a powerful inducement to integrity, purity,
and circumspection, in all the walks, and all the acts
of life. ^Vliat greater restraint, can we have upon our
conduct, than the knowledge of the presence and
observation of these ministers of heaven! Thou, who
art quiet in thy sins; thou who wrappest about thee
the mantle of secres}^, and under it art guilty of false-
hood and fraud; thou who rejoicest in the darkness
of night, and givest thyself to the indulgence of thy
lusts, to the iierpctration of thy crimes, consider, llo^\

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 119

great, and how many, are the spectators of thy ini-
quity. What witnesses are these, which the Almighty
will produce in the awful day of judgement, not only
of thy " presumptuous sins," but of thy most " secret
faults!" In the persons of his Angels, as well as in
his own Omnipresence, " he is about thy path, and
about thy bed, and spieth out all thy ways." And if
thou wouldest not be put to confusion and shame,
when the inhabitants of heaven and earth shall be
present at thy judgement, be pure, be honest, be cir-
cumspect in thy whole demeanor. Let the Angels
have nothing to testify concerning thee, but good deeds
done without ostentation, and virtues, cherished in the
most private recesses, as well as in the more open
walks, of thy life.

Once more. Our subject affords a powerful encou-
ragement to the heirs of salvation. Arduous is the
conilict, in which the Christian is engaged. " We
wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against prin-
cipalities, against powers, against the rulers of the
darkness of tins world, against spiritual wickedness in
high places." But for our encouragement, we are
informed, that Michael and his Angels have overcome
the dragon and his angels. When our Lord had long
resisted the temptations of the adversary, behold,
these blessed spirits " came and ministered unto him."
And in the affecting scene in the garden, at the tre-
mendous hour of the power of darkness, when the
"agony" of Christ had risen to the highest pitch of •
human distress, there appeared unto him " an Angel
from heaven strengthening him." These things were
done for our instruction. Whether we contemplate
the forces, or the personal excellence of the " Captain
of our salvation," we may animate ourselves with the
persuasion, that " greater is he who is with us, than
they who are against us." The angels are enlisted on
ihe side of the Church. I-et us hold them fast, by the

120 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS.

Strength which we have in Christ Jesus; and they will
not go, until they bless us.

Finally. I would adduce from what has been
said, a special motive to sincerity and reverence, in
our religious worship. It has already been observed
to you, that wherever the Deity is particularly present,
it is with the retinue of his Angels. This Avas emi-
nently the case in the Jewish temple. And the gospel
favours the opinion, that it is so in the places of Chris-
tian worship, in Avhich God receives the homage of
his redeemed creatures. In the earliest ages of the
Church, before man had exalted himself above all
created intclligcnts, this sentiment was carefully che-
rished. " Hear thou me," says one of the most elo-
quent of tJie fathers, *' hear thou me, and know, that
Angels are every where ; and that chiefly in the house
of God they attend ui)on their king." " Doubt not,"
says another of these i)rimitive discii)les of our Lord,
" that an Angel is present when Christ is ofl'ered."
And again, says the holy Clnysostom, " when the
Eucharist is celebrated, the Angels stand l)y the Priest,
and the whole quire resounds with celestial powers,
and the place about the altar is iillcd with them, in
honour of Him, who is laid thereon." What sobriety
should these considerations beget in us, when we
come into God's house. How powerfully do they
enforce that decency in worshij), which the Ai)ostlL'.
recommends "because of the Augcls." Especially, with
A\hat pure hearts and clean hands, with what reve-
rence and godly fear, should we come to the holy
table. Consider with whom you there stand; who
are the spectators of your conduct; yea, ^\ho are the
associates of your devotion, when you " laud and
magnify God's glorious name!"' This will not iail
to inspire you with reverence. It will enable you to
serve God acceptably, at his altar, in his house, and
throughout your lives: you will secure the succour of

ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 121

the heavenly hosts, in the hour of danger and dis-
tress; and they will guide the horses of heaven, when
they come to translate your spirits to the regions of
bliss.

qp^

VOL. H. 16

SERMON LVL

-QO©-

ON THE FESTIVAL OF ALL SALNTS.

RETELATI05S, vii. 9. 13 — f&.

After this J beheld, ami, lo, a qveat multitude, which no
man could number, ofcdl nations, and kindreds, and
people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and be-
fore the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms
in their hands. And one of the elderfi answered, sai/-
ing unto me, What are these which are arrayed in
ivhite robes, and whence came they? And I said
iinto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me^
These are they which came out of great tribulation,
and have washed their robes, and made them ivhite in
the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before
the throne of God, and serve him day and night in
his temple; and He that sitteth on the throne shall
dwell among them. They shall hunger no more,

ON ALL SAINTS. 123

neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light
on them^ nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in
the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall
lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God
shall tvipe away all tears from their eyes.

-EAVEN, and the occupations of those who have
passed the boundaries of our sight, and entered upon
its glorious scenes, are objects in the highest degree
interesting to the contemplative mind. Thither have
gone the Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles and Martyrs,
whose instructions we value, and whose memories we
revere. There rest, we trust, the spirits of the Chris-
tian friends, whom we shall see here no more. Thither
ascended the Great Benefactor, whose merits and,
favour, aro our choicest treasure. And there, we ex-
pect, when this vain world shall vanish, to find the
consummation of our faith and hopes, our virtue and
joy. On these accounts, the region and employments
of the blest, will generally excite in the serious, a
lively curiosity. If it be chastened with a sense of the
feebleness of our powers, and a submission to the
wisdom of God, this curiosity is laudable; and when
we think of the worthy characters wlio are gone from
this state, can hardly be expressed.

As the festival of All Saints, which recalls our at-
tention to the labours and rewards of the departed
servants of the Most High, coincides, to-day, with the
Sabbath, we may, with peculiar propriety, make it the
object of the present discourse. Upon this sublime
subject, I know no better guide for your meditations,
than that vision of the Church triumphant of which
the text is a conspicuous part. It will furnish us, with
as just ideas of the situation and blessedness of the
"Saints, as our finite and encumbered minds can re-
ceive, and will lead to reflections adapted to the sea-
son, and to the circumstance*: of many of my hearer^.

124 ON ALL SAINTS.

And, in the first place, it is pleasing to observe,
that the Saints are *' a great multitude of all nations,
and kindreds, and people, and tongues." Every bene-
volent mind, which has any concern for the welfare
of his fellow beings, any gratitude to the Redeemer,
and any just conception of the glory that shall be
revealed, must be ardently desirous that, the partakers
of the heavenly gift, should not be few in number.
The good man puts up no prayer more earnest and
sincere, than " that it may please God to have mercy
upon all men." To know how many shall have man-
sions in the Father's house, is not however permitted
us. We are taught, by the reply which Christ once
made to the inquiry, that it is not our present business.
The way is clearly defined, in which we may secure
to ourselves, the happiness of being of the number, and
to rejoice our philanthropy, and delight us with the
triumphs of our Lord, we are assured that, his redemp-
tion shall not be an unfruitful work, but that, through
it, there shall be many sons brought unto glorj'. In
their high state of bliss, the Saints want not the re-
fined pleasure, of having many to enjoy with them,
their delightful existence. The worthy of every past
age, are collected into their " goodly company." The
faithful of every future generation, shall swell their
numbers and their joy. For John, in his vision, " be-
held, and, lo, a great multitude which no man could
number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and
tongues, stood before the throne, and before the
Lamb." And a greater than John, even the Lamb
himself, has assured us that " they shall come from the
east, and from the west, from the north, and from the
south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God."

In unfolding the scenes of heavenly vision, the
sacred writers are obliged, by the poverty of human
language, and the confined state of our minds, to bor-
row analogies from this visible world, and represent
things which surpass our comprehension, by those

ON ALL SAINTS. 125

things with which we are familiarly acquainted.
Hence, the introduction of the sublime and interesting
scenery, which charms our minds, as we pass from the
number of the Saints, to the description which the
Evangelist has given us, of their condition. They
stand " before the throne," and " before the Lamb,
clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands."
White, is the emblem of innocence. Spotless purity
enters into the very idea of it. And, by association,
the spirits that are arrayed in perfect righteousness,
and celestial glory, are beautifully imagined to be
clothed with garments of white. Of such lustrous
perfection our nature is destitute. Its best robes are
sullied and torn. Unfit they would be for man to
wear, in the pure presence, and august court of the
Most High. But the ransomed of the Lord are vested
in his righteousness. They " have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."
Their spirits are made perfect. They have exclianged
a nature feeble in its best services, and defiled with
many frailties and sins, for a nature, which vice can-
not approach, nor infirmity disgrace; which, like its
Avthor, is glorious in holiness, and divinely happy in
the consciousness of its glory. With their improved
being, the honours of triumphant merit are also theirs.
[n tliis world, the faithful servants of God, have often
arduous and perilous conflicts. Some, have " resisted
unto blood, striving against sin," and have sealed the
value of a good conscience, by sacrificing their lives
in defence of the truth. Many, have struggled hard
with temptation, with adversity, with the injustice,
perverseness, and ingratitude of an evil world. But
sorrows break down t\\e hearts of others. AH en-
counter dismaying foes in the king of terrors, and his
numerous emissaries. But their reward is with the
Lord. When the conflict ends, and their course is
iinishcd, they reap the fruit of their toil. They are
ackjiowledged victorious-, and rejoice in the recom

126 ON ALL SAINTS.

pense of their fidelity, in the presence of the celestial
world. They now share the triumphs of their Master.
The token, long consecrated to victory, is given them
for ever. While they walk " in white robes," they
have " palms in their hands."

What a view does this description afford us, of the
condition of the Saints in their exaltation. Ye, who
have tasted the pleasures which spring from the con-
sciousness of virtue, and know the vexations of a frail
nature, imagine the bliss ol their complacence in being
divested of every moral debility, and clad in a pure and
immutable righteousness. Ye, who have known the
conflicts of virtue, in the day of trial, and can estimate
by your fears, the precious value of safety, judge ye,
with what rapture they felicitate tliemselves, and each
other, on their escape from deatli, and the contagion
of this world; the triumphs of their integrity, and
their security from any future liazard of their reward.
They are happy, in the review of the dangers they
have past. They rejoice, in the robes with which
they are clothed, and in the palms, which they have
in their hands. For the former, qualifies them for the
presence and service of tlic King of Heaven, and the
latter, are the emblems of their eternal victory, over
temptation and affliction, persecution and death.

This leads us to a more particular notice of the
situation and employment, to which the faithful, who
have quitted this earthly residence, are advanced. And
here, what a flood of glory, from the station they
occupy, overwhelms the astonished mind. They
are "before the throne of God, and serve him day
and night in his temi)lc; and He that sitteth upon
the throne, shall dwell among them." To give us
an impressive idea of their admission to his loftiest
abode, and of the ease and freedom with which
they sustain his glorious presence, they are represent-
ed as living before his throne. It is that throne,
from which he observes the conduct of all creatures:

ON ALL SAINTS. 127

yet are they not dismayed, but filled with love. It is
that throne, on which he lightens with his arm, and
thunders with his voice, and displays the terribleness
of his judgements. But the terror of these attributes,
is softened to them by the intervention of " the Lamb
that is in the midst of the throne," and, amidst the
awful grandeur of the scene, they peacefully admire
and adore. To teach us the purity, and holiness of
the region and occupations, to which they are exalted,
his temple is named as the place, in which they con-
stantly serve him. It is that temple, in which his
immediate presence rests for ever, and where " the
angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven,"
render him their homage, and receive his commands.
In what part of the wide unknown, this resort of the
blessed lies, it is unnecessary for us to know. We are
much more instructed by the assurance, that " He
who sitteth on the throne, shall dwell among them."
Wherever he abides, there is a throne ; his presence
makes a temple. As an affectionate father, God is
among his Saints, directing their affairs, supplying
their wants, receiving their homage, and repaying it
with his smiles. They live in the light of his coun-
tenance. Intimately, and unceasingly they contem-
plate, his adorable perfections. They find a heaven,
in the consciousness of his favour ; and the work of a
heaven, in serving him day and night.

To form an accurate sentiment of the happiness,
which must arise from the vision and fruition of the
Deity, is not in the power of our carnal minds. Our
endeavours to follow the spirits of the just into their
blessedness, in the bosom of God, are vain as the
attempt to pursue the flight of the eagle towards the
luminary of day. With ease, we may trace his remote
approaches to the lofty orb, but he is soon lost in the
distance between the sun and us, or hidden in the vast
effulgence of its beams. Some faint ideas of the
nature of their joy, we may, however, collect from

128 ON ALL SAINTS.

what passes in our own bosoms- The coutemplatioii
of moral excellence, even in a finite being, excites a
pure and exquisite pleasure in the virtuous mind. \Vc
Jove the man, with a most generous affection, in
whom are the amiable virtues unmixed with guile ;
and while we muse, admiring his worth, our own
hearts glow with tlic spirit of his goodness. The
])leasure is greater, the nearer our knowledge of his
character. Our delight is unbounded, if he is our
friend. How great, then, must be tiie felicity of con-
templating, with unveiled eyes, the wisdom, and
beauty, and goodness, of the source of all perfection,
with the assurance of his love towards us, as his
selected friends.

Again. Though now we see him not, the hope
that his providence is extended over us, is life's choic-
est consolation. He is our final reliance. Our hearts
find perfect satisfaction, no where but in him. Wealth,
fame, and pleasure, fills not man's desires. On the
eminences to which they raise him, he feels a void,
and is restless. But the knowledge of God, and con-
sciousness of his favour, is a satisfactory bliss. This,
even here on earth, give peace and content, to the vir-
tuous inhabitant of life's humblest vale. How great,
then, must be their gladness ; what can be wanting to
render their satisfaction complete, who live under his
immediate protection and smile, receive his actual
approbation, and have him for their portion for ever.
If, at this wide distance from him, the pious mind is
soothed and sublimed, by its humble devotion to the
invisible God, and, by its remote communion with
him, catches, like the countenance of Moses, a gleam
of his glory, what must be the composure and dignity
of bosoms, how must they be changed into his glory,
who dwell in the radiance of his perfections, and
worship him face to face !

It must not escape observation, that there is nothing
to interrupt, or terminate this happiness, of the beati-

ON ALL SAINTS. 129

Bed servants of the Most High. They have no care
of providing food for a perishable body, nor occasion
to labour with perplexity and anguish, for an unsatis-
factory wealth. No weight of affliction causes their
spirits to faint ; no restless desires, nor impetuous pas-
sions, disturb their tranquillity; no concern for thfe
future, restrains them from the enjoyment of present
bliss. The tears which were here caused to flow, by
death's cruel ravages, or uumerited wrong, by stern
"adversity, or keen repentance, at^ wiped tenderly from
every eye, by the hand of God. The occasion of
these griefs have no more operation. Onae landed on
the celestial Ararat, the terrors and the dangers of
the flood are over. The scenes of sorrow and anguish,
darkness and dismay, give place to brighter prospects,
and enlivening sunshine. And an eternal bow about
the throne, assures them that, the bitterness of death
is past, and God in covenant with them for their per-
petual preservation.

Such, is the blessedness of those happy spirits, who
have departed this life, in the true faith and fear; so
great is their reward in heaven. The utmost stretch
of our conceptions will not reach their felicity. They
are " before the throne of God."

But, in this glorious condition, and exalted station,
how are the spirits of the blest employed ? No toil
makes repose necessary, no feebleness requires it, and,
therefore, no part of their existence is lost in sleep.
Night and day they serve their Maker in his temple.
In doing his will, in celebrating his greatness, in ad-
miring his works, in imitating his lovcj in joining with
the angelic hosts, to ofler perpetual praises to their
common Lord, they spend their existence. They have
HO fatiguing duty, nor unwelcome business. The^^
are disencumbered of wants and cares. " The Lamb
who is in the midst of the throne," is perpetually lead-
ing them to the unsatiating pleasures of his Father's
house, to fountains of life, of light, and of evfery ele^

yoL. iL 1?

130 ON ALL SAINTS,

vated pleasure. To receive perpetually the smites of
the Highest, is their daily business; and their chief
occupation, to praise his name.

To this glorious company, my brethren, these de-
parted friends have assuredly gone, tvhose Christian
excellencies we remember with delight. How great,
then, that happiness, upon which they entered, when
we bemoaned their departure with om- tears. What dis-
regard of their interest and pleasure, to wish them
back to this vain, and fluctuating scene. Let us,
rather, learn to adore the goodness of the Being, who
provided a way of bringing the object of our love, to
such a state of exaltation and bliss. Wo are wont to
esteem those, who esteem our friends, and feel grateful
to those, who merely wish them prosperity. How,
then, are the bonds of our obligation to the Most Higli
strengthened, what incense of gratitude should per-
petually rise to Him from our hearts, whose goodness,
hath brought them, when their allotment here was
ended, into the delightful inheritance of the children
of God. There cannot, mcthinks, be a more sacred
claim upon our love, or more powerful incitement to
our obedience.

Again. With this august body of Saint*, we, n\y
brethren, though we sojourn on eartli, are closely con-
nected. In the mystical body of our Lord, we have a
communion with them. Their Head, is ours. Their
objects, and their pleasures, are those which we pur-
sue. The seal of their redemption, is that in which
we trust; the subject which swells their celestial Hal-
lelujahs, we celebrate in the sacramental supper. And
the Being, by whom they arc brought intD glory,
ascended also, we trust, to prepare a place for us.
" Now, therefore," says the Apostle, " ye are no more
strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the
Saints, and of the household of God." In this high
connectioHj beloved, let us walk with becoming dig-
nity, purity, and circumspection. Let us listen to the

ON ALL SAINTS. 131

Temoiisirances against vice ; let us obey the iHcitements
to every religious and social duty; let us indulge the
noble and important resolutions, which will arise in
the bosom of every ingenuous person, who sincerely
considers himself as related, by his Christian privi-
leges, " to the general assembly and Church of the
first born;" and " to the spirits of just men made per-
fect," and to Jesus the Mediator, " and to God the
Judge of all."

Which leads me to remark, lastly, that the glorious
rewards which the Saints possess, may also be won by
our fidelity. *' In the Father's house are many man-
sions," and he who comes to him through his Son
" he will in no wise cast out." And is there any inte-
rest, which it so much behoves us to secure, as this?
For what that this earth can proffer, and our most
successful exertions obtain, shall we relinquish such
inestimable and eternal bliss? Let us, rather, give all
diligence, to make our calling and election sure." Are
we beset with temptations? Does the Most High
seem to frown onus in sore chastisements? Is the
"spirit willing, but the flesh weak?" Be not dis-
mayed, In like manner were the Saints tried, who
have conquered and are crowned. Let us take their
live^ for our ensamples, and, in the uniform use of the
means of grace, with eyes fixed on the hopes of glory,
pursue the path in which they journeyed, " whoj

hrough faith and patience, have inherited the pro-

raises.'

SERMON LVU.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

Acts, ix. 19— 21.

Then was Saul certain dai/s with the disciples whicli
were at Damascus. And straightway he preached
Christ in the si/nagogucs, that he is the Son of God.
But all that heard him icere amazed, and said; Is
not this he that destroyed them which called on this
name?

Among the characters which the gospel history
presents to us, St. Paul holds a conspicuous place.
Perhaps, to none of the Apostles is the Christian
world more indebted, and none of them exhibits a life
more wonderful and instructive. Brought to the faith
of Christ, by an extraordinary conversion; employed
in the most arduous and important services,- raised to

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 133

visions surpassing the powers of human description ; a
son of sorrow, and a martyr for revealed truth ; there
are few persons, whose lives are more fraught with
the interesting, or have stronger claims to our conside-
ration.

The conversion of this great Christian hero, is,
this day, commemorated in the Church. It will,
therefore, be a proper, and, with the divine blessing, a
useful employment of our minds, to attend to the
principal points of his history, and to the reflections
which they suggest. Of you all, my brethren, let me
bespeak a patient and a candid hearing. It is a sub-
ject full of instruction for every mind. But, in an
especial manner, if there be in this assembly a man,
who is not yet satisfied concerning the truth of our
holy religion, him, I am anxious to interest. Would
to God, I could fill him with candor, and chain his
attention to my theme. For unless all laws of reason-
ing are arbitrary, and all grounds of evidence falla-
cious, he cannot rise from the faithful contemplation
of the argument, which is founded upon the life of St.-
Paul, without confessing of Christ Jesus, " that he is
the Son of God."

Saul, or Paul, for by both names he is called, was,
as he himself informs us, a native of Tarsus, in Cilicia.
This town, famous for its trade, and its literature, is
supposed, by many, to have been honoured, likewise,
with municipal distinctions, for its adherence to some
Roman emperor. If it were not so, the father of our
Apostle, must have obtained the freedom of Rome by
merit, or by purchase ; for it must be remembered, as
furnishing an instructive instance of the providence of
God, that Paul was born a Jew, but, at the same time,,
an heir to the privileges of a Roman citizen.

His education was liberal. Favoured by nature
with strong and active powers, and brought up in one
of the most celebrated schools in Jerusalem, "at the
feet of Gamaliel," he united genius with great ac-

1S4 UN THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

quirements. His speeches, and the Epistles which
have come down to us bearing his name, display,
equally, the force of his mind, and his acquaintance
with the literature of his day. Had he not, after the
glorious realities of the gospel were unfolded to his
view, counted all his human acquirements " but dung,
that he might win Christ,'' we should be induced to
remark, in honour of the man, that the most illustrious
masters of reasoning and rhetoric, Locke and Longi-
nus, have bestowed on him the meed of their praise.

As might have been expected, the pride of earthly
wisdom, and the vanity of Jewish prejudice, unfitted
him for the reception of Christ and his doctrines. On
the contrary, they qualified him to l)e an instrument
for the opposers of Christianity; and, aided by the
natural impetuosity of his temi)er, rendered him tln^
assiduous, and unweaiied persecutor, of its Author
and its advocates. None of the foes to Jesus and his
disciples, was more known and dreaded. Every
where his fame was spread, as the implacable adver*
sary of the sect. Without regard to age or sex;
without restraint to time or place, we find him deriding
the disciples of the Lord, and dragging them to prison
and to torture; and when the first martyr, the amiable
Stephen, was stoned, tliis zealous enemy to the Chris-
tian faith, " consented to his death," and kept the
garments of those who executed the horrid deed. It
must, however, be observed, for he tells us that, on
this account, he obtained mercy, that in his animosity
towards the followers of the Redeemer, he was actu-
ated by a zeal, which he thought holy, and by a con-
cirn for the religion, and honour of his nation, which
he thought right. He was a mistaken, not a careless,
nor a vicious man. There are those, alas! who, in
deriding and opposing the Author of our faith, are
impelled only by their levity. Still worse, there are
those, who, without regard for any religion, or zeal
for any thing good, would destroy the authority an<i

ON THE CHARACTER OP ST. PAUL. 135

influence of the gospel, to quiet themselves in their
sins, and to accomplish their base purposes in the
world. For such, the pious bosom will tremble.
Tliough mercy was found for the honest, yet mistaken
Paul, can they expect, that profane levity and deter-
mined profligacy, will find an apology at the bar of
God ? No ; never. These, I am awfully afraid, are
" vessels of wrath fitted for destruction."

But, to return to our subject; "breathing out threat-
enings and slaughter," Saul is hastening to Damascus,
with authority from the High Priest to take, without
distinction, the abettors of Christianity, and " bring
them bound to Jerusalem." As he journeys, with a
considerable company, behold, " at midday, a light
from heaven surpassing the sun in brightness," shines
suddenly upon them and strikes them to the earth. It
is, probably, the Shechinah ; the manifestation of the
Divine Presence. A voice, tenible and inarticulate as
thunder to his companions, but distinct and intelligible
to Paul, calls to him from the inexpressible glory,
" Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Tremblings
and astonished, he inquires, "Who art thou Lord?
And the Lord said, I am Jesus, whom thou persecut-
est." " But rise, and stand upon thy feet ; for I have
appeared unto thee for this puri^ose, to make thee a
minister and a witness of these things which thou hast
seen, and of those things in the which I will appear
unto thee." As one, who suddenly sto])s on a preci-
pice, api)alled at the danger into which impetuosity
had hurried him, Paul stands amazed and dismayed.
The manifestation of the Redeemer is irresistible; and
he, who had hitherto been solicitous how he might
most efiectually injure h?s cause, now calls to him, in
the voice of suppliant obedience, " Lord, what wilt
thou have me to do?" Made blind by the brightness^
of the glory which appeared, he was led by his com-
panions into the city, which was at hand; where, for
<hree days, overwhelmed, doubtlesfs, with sorrow for

136 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAlTL*

the error into which he had fallen, he devoted himself
entirely to fasting and prayer. Upon this, for the con-
firmation of his faith, and comfort of his spirit, ano-
ther miracle was wrought upon him. His sight was
instantly restored to him by a Minister of the Redee-
mer, who also received him into the Church by bap-
tism, and instructed him in the work unto which he
was designed. " Then was Saul certain days with
the disciples, which were at Damascus; and straight-
way he preached Christ ia the synagogues, that he is
the Son of God."

As the wonderful conversion of this Apostle, is a
great evidence of the truth of our religion, and on it,
rests the validity of his important testimonies, it de-
serves our particular examination. Now, St. Paul
must be supposed to have been, cither honest or dis-
honest, in this matter. From the character he had
supported before his conversion ; from his appeal to
his adversaries, that from his youth "he had lived in all
good conscience before God;" from the face of his
writings and conduct; yea, from his zeal for the reli-
gion and tradition of his fathers, candour should infer
that, he was a conscientious man. While, on the
otiier hand, there is notliing on which we may reason-
ably found, the least sus|)icion of his veracity. What
motives were there to induce a person of his character
and prospects, to attempt to inijiose such a fraud upon
the world? Were the adherents to the cause of
Christ, able to proffer any inducements, sufficient to
win this renowned character to their party? Theirs,
alas! was the cause of poverty, of trouble, and of
persecution ; and he their persecutor, well knew the
miseries to which the followers of the Nazarene would
be exposed. Were there any prospects, witii which
he could have induced himself to practise this decep-
tion upon mankind? If he believed, that Jesus Christ
was an impostor, and had expired, for ever, on the
rross, his good sense could not but iiavc iij/errcd, that

OtJ THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 137

his religion, which renounced the aid of the wisdom,
wealth, and power of this world, would presently
come to nought, and his knowledge of the feelings of
his nation, and of the incredulity of mankind, must
have assured him that, nothing could be more hopeless,
than the fate of the advocates of such a cause.
Without prospect of any thing, but implacable enmity
from those he left, and disgrace and trouble with those
he joined ; without the least reasonable expectation of
wealth, honour, power, or success ; what could have
induced this sensible, and intherto upright man, to re-
linquish the religion of his fathers, which he had highly
and zealously prized, for a religion, which he belie-
ved to be false; a religion, which he had detested and
persecuted; a religion, to which he would be obliged
to sacrifice his honours, his connections, his comforts,
the advantages of his birth, and education, his liopc of
the favour of his God, and, in all probability, his life?
Surely, there is not the least ground, upon which we
can doubt, that St. Paul was sincere in his profession,
honest in what he related. If his integrity, whose
whole life was conformable to his princii)les, may be
tailed in question, I see not what evidence there can
be of any man's veracity; I know not in whose testi-
mony we can ever confide.

But, if St. Paul were honest, either the wonders
which produced his conversion were real, or he must,
himself, have becu deceived. Now, there arc but
three ways, in which his deception could have been
possible; by the artifice of evil spirits, by human im-
position, or by the enthusiasm or delirium of his own
mind. There are few, if any, who can suppose it the
artifice of evil spirits. Whatever may be their power,
we may be perfectly assured, that they never exercise
it in favour of a system of the purest piety and morals;
a system, whose leading aim is the destruction of their
influence among mankind, and whose precepts in-
culcate truth and goodne.ss. Was there, then, a delu-

vor,. If. 18

138 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

sion practised upon the Apostle by human beings? h
is impossible to conceive, in what way any impostor, or
, set of impostors, could have produced a scene like that
which took place in the road to Damascus. And if
we should imagine a show, any way similar to it, to
have been wrought by imposture, could we believe,
that such an one as Paul, would have been its dupe;
that Paul, who was distinguished for penetration and
strength of mind; that Paul, whose character was
decision, and who carried in his bosom a contempt of
the Person whom the miracle aimed to magnify; that
Paul, who was an acute logician, a good philosopher,
and a keen detector of the artifices of men ; that Paul,
who, at the very time of the occurrence, was impetu-
ously bent upon destroying the religion of Jesus, and
distressing his followers? Recur we, then, to the last
su|)position. Could a delusion have been occasioned
by enthusiasm, or delirium, in his own mind? Enthu-
siasm, generally acts in favour of something dear to it.
Its usual course is, to warm itself with repeated views
of its darling object. It raises, by the a])plication of
its own heat to its own opinions, possibilities to proba-
bilities; and these, to certainties. It delights to form,
and to catch at the most airy ideas, whicli favour its
expectations and designs. But, to make one leave, at
once, his foudest opinions; to draw him instantane-
ously from tenets dear and sacred, to principles long
esteemed false and odious; and this, too, by miracles
imagined to be wrought against itself; these are not
the operations of enthusiasm or superstition. Nor can
a delirium be assigned as the cause of the Apostle's
impressions; for it must be imputed to his companions,
as well as to him; no inconsiderable number, we may
presume, from the nature of their errand; it must be
imputed, too, to Ananias, who was supcrnaturally
informed of the vision which Paul had seen, notwith-
standing the dignity and reasonableness of liis conduct,
and. the good report he had both of Christians ami

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 139

Jews; it must be imputed to the Apostle during his
subsequent life ; and conceived to have been always
consistent, to have enabled him with conspicuous
wisdom to adapt means to their ends ; to have raised
him to a sublime elevation of piety and virtue ; and to
have qualified him to produce speeches, and writings,
which, for strength ()f reasoning, and force of elo-
quence, vie with the most finished productions of
human ingenuity. This, methinks, were a delirium
approaching very near to the standard of exalted rea-
son; having very much of the character of truth and
soberness. The sui)position, that the Aix)stle was,
himself, deceived, is, in every shape of it, attended
with so many, and insuperable difficulties, that " an
evil heart of unbelief" must pervert our own faculties,
before we can admit it a moment, as an explanation of
his conversion. What now remains? We must ac-
knowledge the reality of the wonderful manifestation
of the Redeemer, or betake ourselves to the last, the
miserable subterfuge, that the whole story is a fabrica-
tion, and that no such person as St. Paul, ever ex-
isted.

This subterfuge, should any resort to it, will be
found as untenable as it is bold. For what reason
have we to doubt the existence of St. Paul, more than
the existence of any celebrated character of antiquity?
W^e believe that Homer and Virgil, that Alexander and
Ceesar, that Socrates and Cicero, lived in the ages
in which they are said to have lived. On what is this
belief founded ? On the testimony of historians ; and
the possession of works bearing their names, which
have been attributed to them by all their posterity.
This is a reasonable and sufficient ground of belief.
The nature of the case admits of no other. Now we
have minute accounts of St. Paul, in a contemporary,
and innumerable historians ; and we have many and
various writings bearing his name, which have been
acknowledged as his, in every age, from the time of

140 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

his life to the present day. Such, too, is the nature
of these writings, that they carry in themselves, evi-
dence of their auilicnticity. Do we doubt, that there
were Christian Churches, in Rome, in Corinth, and in
Ephesus? But, while these Churches were in being,
could Epistles have been sjiread abroad, as addressed
to them, which they had never received? Or could
they have received Epistles from St. Paul, referring to
visits made them, to uondcrs wrought among them,
and to instructions given ihcm, if St. Paul hod never
been? Yet, such Epistles are quoted as his, by many
writers in the first centuries; and have been preserved
as a part of canonical Scripture, in all ages of the
Church. We have, too, records of his testimony, as
ancient as his day ; and vestiges of his labours pre-
served by tradition, in many regions which were
blessed with his visits. When, therefore, we are
ready to renounce all conlidence in the writings, and
all belief in the existence, of the distinguished charac-
ters of antiquity ; when we are willing to set all histo-
rical evidence at dc/iance, and to quit the only ground
upon which we can have any knowledge of the trans-
actions in the ages Ijcfore us, then may we doubt the
authenticity of the story of St. Paul, and the genuine-
ness of his writings. But, till then, I see no alterna-
tive remaining, which a reasonable man can take, but
to confess the reality of the vi^on, \\hich converted
this great Apostle to Christianity.

There is, indeed, in this miraculous event, as if
designed by Cod, a remarkable combination of rea-
sons, which substantiate its credibility. There is no
other ground upon which we can, with any plausibility,
account for the Apostle's conduct. It is a kind of
miracle, which no one, who believes in a Deity, will
say was imj)ossible, nor upon the supposition of the
truth of Christianity, will any one say, it was unneces-
sary. The end appears worthy of the eftbrt; and
both the effort and end worthy of tiie Almighty. The

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 141

circumstances which attended the event, were such as
would have facilitated detection if it were false, and
the consequences of it were such, as might be expect-
ed, if it were true. But I am particularly anxious to
remark, and to dwell upon the remark, that the sub-
sequent life and conduct of St. Paul, are the best
evidences of the truth, and sincerity of his conversion.
They were exactly, and in all respects such, as we
should suppose would be produced by an occurrence,
so extraordinary and solemn, so impressive and conscr.
quential.

His great favour and interest, with the rulers and
chief priests of his nation; his high pretensions to
unblamableness in the righteousness of the law; his
pride in his acquirements of human wisdom and ac-
complishments; the honours of his station and his
flattering prospects in the world, he cheerfully re-
nounced them all. As the youth, who is raised to the
views and expectations of manhood, abandons the toys
and si)orts of his boyish days, so these no longer ena-
mour the Apostle, now that the salvation which is in
Jesus, is disclosed to his view. How hard is it to
forego the charms of honour, of science, and of life's
flattering distiactions! AVhat can reconcile men to
these self-denials, but an abiding conviction of the
reference of his life to another, and a lively faith in
the unspeakable joys of the future! To him, indeed,
who has tasted " the excellence of the knowledge of
Christ," and known the power of the world to come ;
to hrm, to whom the Son of God stands revealed as a
Saviour, death, as an entrance upon an eternal exist-
ence, and heaven, as the reward of the faithful; to
him, indeed, in the calm estimate of reflection, every
thing else must appear of little value. In renouncing,
therefore, the distinctions, pleasures, and designs of
this world, and devoting himself, wholly, to the attain-
ment of the " prize of the high calling of God in
Christ Jesus," St. Paul has given a noble evidence.

142 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PALL.

that th£ scene on his wa)' to Damascus, was a clear
and satisfactory manifestation to him, of the ascended
Saviour, whom he had persecuted.

Soon after his enlistment under the banners of the
gospel, we find him wasing his jMastcr's warfare with
courage, skill, and determination. To his own coun-
trymen, who had witnessed his outrages upon the fol-
lowers of the JMe^ssiah, he first, with undaunted confi-
dence, declared his faith in him; proving to them from
Moses and the Propheis, that Christ must needs
suffer and die ; and that this Jesus, whom they had
crucified, was very Christ. But he was taught by
the Lord, that it should be his office to carry the tid-
ings of salvation to the Gentile world. This was a
task, to undertake which, re(iuircd more than human
enterprise and philanthropy; to accomi)lish which,
required a patience, perseverance, intrepidity and ex-
emplariness, which could be furnished only from
above. In this vast and important work, St. Paul
"laboured more abundantly than alT' his brethren.
They took to themselves, generally, some province, or
part of a country, where, with iiious diligence, they
inculcated and spread, the truths of revelation. But
the measure of his cares, w as the extent of the human
race; the bounds of his labours, were the limits of the
world. Memory, and the time, would fail me, should
1 attempt to recount to you, his travels and exertions.
Borne, now, on the wings of Christian zeal, and actu-
ated by the spirit of Christian love, he seems to have
carried the glad tidings of redemption, into almost
every region, from the distant recesses of the East, to
the utmost Islalids of the West. Nor were his sor-
rows less, than his labours. Was he in Ephesus, or
journeying to Spain; was he bound to Rome, or
w ould he go to Jerusalem ; in e\ ery place, " the Holy
Ghost witnessed, that bonds and afflictions would
abide him." " But none of these things moved him;
neither counted he his life dear unto himself; that he

I

ON THE CHARACTER OF ^T. P4I1L. 143

might finish his course "vvith joy, and the ministry
which he had received of the Lord Jesus." It would
seem by the plain, yet pathetic summary of his suffer-
ings, that for the proof of his faith, and the perfecting
of his character, adversity was permitted to bring him
all her cups to taste; and of each one, which he tasted,
compelled him to repeat the draught: " In labours
more abundant ; in stripes above measure ; in prisons
more frequent; in deaths oft; of the Jews, five times
received I forty stripes save one; thrice was I beaten
with rods; once was I stoned; thrice I suffered ship-
wreck; a night and a day I have been in the deep; in
journeyings often; in perils of waters; in perils of
robbers; in perils by mine own countrymen; in perils
by the heathen; in perils in the city; in perils in the
wilderness; in perils in the sea; in perils among false
brethren; in weariness and painfulness; in watchings
often; in hunger aiul thirst; in fastings often; in cold
and in nakedness; besides those things which are
without, that which cometh upon me daily, the care of
all the Churches."

Thus, from the day of his conversion, passed the
life of this once proud, and implacable foe to Christi-
anity, in humility and faith; in travels and labours; in
affliction; charity; and continual exertions for the
success of the gospel. Like the sun, he stood not
still; but constantly diffused, uiK)n some dark region
or other, the glorious light with which he, himself,
was illumined. And like the sun, his lustre was more
lovely, and his diligence seemed to increase, as he
verged towards the evening of life, and hastened to
set. Afllictions "uhich damp most men's perseve-
rance, renovated his. Age, which brings others re-
pose, called forth his noblest energies. And the ap-
proach of death, which sobers every mind, filled him
with exultance. '' 1 am now ready to be offered, and
the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought
a good fight: I have iinished my course: I have kept

144 ON THE THARACTER OF ST. PAUL.

the faith : Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown
of righteousness, which God, the righteous Judge,
shall give me at that day."

In the reign of Nero, ready, if the w ill of God
should be so, to give his life a sacrifice to his faith, he
returned to Rome. There, his success in governing,
with St. Peter, and extending the Church, drew on
him the hatred and persecution of a corrupt govern-
ment; and in the sixty-eighth year of his age, by the
command of the monster, lo whom the Church owes
the blood of many of its martyrs, and fallen nature a
new disgrace, this champion of Christianity, expired
on a scaffold !

His successors in the ministry, have a rich legacy
in the example he has left them, of pastoral fidelity
and judicious zeal. To all the disciples of the Re-
deemer, his writings arc a treasure of divine wisdom,
of inestimable value. In his defence before Agrippa,
his discourse upon the resurrection, and several parts
of his Epistles, the man of taste may be delighted,
while the Christian is edified. But it is particularly
to the unbeliever, that his life presents the most im-
portant instruction. For the change of his oi)inion,
his extraordinary labours, virtues and successes; the
willingness with which lie encountered the fatigues
and sufferings of his ministry, and the readiness with
which he scaled his testimony with his blood, it is
impossible to assign any other ade(niate cause, than
that hg had received satisfactory, and irresistible evi-
dence, that the gospel he had persecuted, was a reve-
lation from God. When I contemplate the conversion
of this Apostle, in all its circumstances and conse-
quences, I am ready to believe that, the Most High, in
condescension to the weakness of faith in the children
of men, has vouchsafed to give them an evidence, of
the authority of his Son, which should be unexcep-
tionable and irresistible. It is a pillar of our faith,
which levity may attempt to soil, and sophistry may

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PAUL. 145

endeavour to mar; but, like the pillars in the eternal
temple of Jehovah, it shall stand for ever; upheld by
truth, and admired, both in its strength and beauty, of
all them that believe?

VOL. n. /&

SERMON LVIIL

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE
BAPTIST.

St. Matthew, si. 11.

Verih/ I say unto you, among them that are born of
women, there hath not risen a greater than John the
Baptist.

HAT an encomium is here, upon that renowned
person and distinguished saint, whose nativity, the
Church, this day, commemorates; an encomium, too,
from the mouth of the highest, and most perfect dis-
cerner of characters, the Eternal Son of God. It will
not be amiss, my brethren, but very pertinent and
commendable, to turn our attention to the life of the
man, upon whom our blessed Lord hath bestowed
such honourable expression of his respects, and ap-

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 147

probation. A character, which Christ commends, can
never be studied without advantage.

The course, which our thoughts will most naturally
take, is, to inquire in what the Baptist was so remark-
able, as to have merited and obtained such discrimina-
ting praise.

And, in the first place, he was peculiarly remarka-
ble in his birth, and office. There is a striking and
beautiful analogy, in all the works of God. Great,
and remote events, are typified in those which arc
immediate, and of less magnitude; and his spiritual
economy, is frequently illustrated in the arrangements
of his material world. When the sun approaches to
scatter the darkness of night, and cheer and invigorate
creation with his beams, he is preceded by the morning
star ushering him in with its fainter dawn. In like
manner, when the more glorious " Sun of Righteous-
ness" was about to rise upon our benighted world, the
Most High ordained, that an harbinger should go be-
fore him " to prepare his way," and announce his
coming. It was reserved for a pious pair, who were
both righteous before God, " walking in all the com-
mandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless," to
be assured by an angel sent from God, that they should
give birth to the person who should execute this extra-
ordinary oflice. The Prophets had predicted his ap-
pearance and character, as the herald of Messiah the
Prince; and in the spirit and life, and even attire of the
good Elijah, this herald had been typified. At the ap-
pointed time, contrary to the expectation and hopes
of nature, Zacharias and Elizabeth were blessed with
this wonderful child, filled with the Holy Ghost from
the womb; so much like Elijah as by many to be
taken for him, and so precisely at the period, when
the Jews were expecting the promised deliverer, that
some supposed he was, indeed, the Christ. Consid-
ered as the forerunner of our Lord, there is something
in him peculiarly interesting, and entitled to approprt-

148 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

ate respect. We admire the exact fulfilment of pro-
phecies, and striking accomplishment of types; and
cannot wonder that Gabriel declared to the amazed
Zacharias, " Thou shalt have joy and gladness, and
many shall rejoice at his birth."

Having noticed his peculiar ofiice, and the circum-
stances of his birth, we jiroceed to observe that, St.
John was eminently distinguished by his piety and
humility. There is an intimate and nice relation,
between all the virtues and duties of life. This, is
is very observable in piety and humility. They can
hardly subsist apart. The maji cannot be pious, who
is not humble; and seldom is he adorned with humi-
lity, who is not pious. They generate each other in
the heart. In the life of the Baptist, there is such a
display of these conjoined graces, as exhibits him at
no ordinary point of moral elevation. When our
blessed Lord presented himself a candidate for his
baptism, an occasion which would have elated and
flattered many a teacher of righteousness, his unassu-
ming modesty, and holy reverence for the Redeemer,
form a most lovely picture. " I have need to be baf)-
tised of thee, and comest thou to me ?" Astonished
at the singularity of his appearance and doctrines, the
Jews mused in their hearts, whether lie were not the
Christ, and sent messengers to ask him the question.
Had he been impious, here was oi)portunity to arro-
gate to himself divine honours. Had he been ambi-
tious, here was an occasion to have placed himself at
the head of his nation. But, equally to be admired
for his diffidence of himself and his devotion to his
Lord, he replied, " There cometh one after me, might-
ier than I, the latchet of whose shoes, I am unworthy
to unloose." But why do I adduce particuhir in-
stances? His whole life was one continued exhibition
of self-denial, and religious devotion. For him, the
plauditsof fame and the trophies of power, had no
charms. In him, " soft raiment" and delicate life.

UN THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 149

excited no covetous desires. In the plain, coarse g;arb
of the penitent; sequestered iVoui the haunts of pride
and pleasure, he held the holy tenor of his way :

" The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crjstal well.
Remote from man, with God he pass'd his days,
Prayer all his business; all his pleasure, praise."

Deep must have been his sense of sin ; strong his
principles of sobriety ; great his love of God, who could
retire from all the voluptuousness of life, to the wil-
derness of Judea; and content himself for sustenance,
with " locusts and wild honey." In his public ministry,
he evidenced the motives of his austerity. " Repent,
for the kingdom of heaven is at hand," was the sub-
stance of all his discourses.

But I haste to observe, that the Baptist did not live
for himself alone. His austerity did not degenerate
into a mere concern for his own salvation. In his
devotion to God, he did not forget, that he owed mucii
to his fellow beings. For he was not more distin-
guished by the properties which have already been
mentioned, than by his zeal for the propagation of
truth, and the welfare of his countrymen. What do I
see! "Jerusalem, and all Judea, and all the region
round about Jordan," are flocking to him to be " bap-
tised, confessing their sins." The amiable man lias
been amongst them as their friend, declaring and
reproving their vices, and warning them of the aj)-
proach of Messiah, with rich blessings for thos<; who
would receive him, and awful judgements for his ene-
mies. It was a dissolute, as well as an important
I)eriod with the Jewish nation. Now, was the fulfil-
ment of the promise to their fathers at hand; the
advent of " the consolation of Israel ;" the incarnation
of the Son of God. But they were absorbed in the
expectation of a temporal prince, and the desires cf

160 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

worldly felicity ; and immersed in all the vices and
Iiypocricies to which such views of religion and life
ever give birth. St. John beheld them with regret.
He was bold and anxious in his reproofs. And it was
concern for his country, as well as fidelity to the Lord,
which induced him to assume an unequalled austerity
of life; that he might influence them by his example,
as well as his instructions, " to bring forth fruits meet
for repentance." How great and good does he appear,
in this view of him! How commendable is every
man, who thus sorrows for the \ ic» s, and is solicitous
for the welfare, of his fellow beings! And, let it be
observed, in passing, that a true roi^nrd for the happi-
ness of our countrymen, and the human race, is ever
connected with a regard for their religious and moral
improvement. The schemes are fanciful and falla-
cious, which would separate civil, from moral im-
provement; temi)oral, from religious happiness. I'n-
fortunate Jews! Ye are a solemn monument of the
truth of this observation. Happy had it been for you,
had ye listeneil to the pious Baptist, as the harbinger
of Christ, and received the Messiah whom he pointed
out and preached. But they were carried away with
schemes of their own aggrandisement; they preferred
to be led by their ambitious and jealous rulers. And
when the Saviour " came to his own, his own received
him not." They sulfered, alas! in the destruction of
their city, and polity, the just judgement of God upon
their pcrvcrseness; and continue, to this day, every
where, a distinct, and no where, an established people.
Hasten, great God, the promised time, when thou wilt
gather them with thine arms, and bring them to thy
(lock, and we all be happy in " one fold, under one
s,hepherd," Jesus Christ!

But to return; we observe, in the last place, that
the Baptist was eminently remarkable for his dignified
resolution, and manly constancy, in the cause of right-
eousness. He was not, as our Saviour happily ex-

ON THE CHARACTER OP 9T. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 161

pressed it, in his ironical questions to the multitude
concerning John, " a reed shaken with the wind.'*
He was the avowed advocate, and determined profes-
sor, of virtue. Never was a more steady, and un-
daunted adherence to principle, exemplified by man.
Not the sneers and scoffmgs of the profane ; not the
influences of fashion ; not the frowns nor the smiles of
the great, could bend this prodigy of rectitude, from
the path of duty. He was amongst " a crooked gene-
ration." He stood before a corrupt court. But
neither flattery nor threats, could bring him to a truce
with vice. Into the bosom of Herod himself, he car-
ried his reproofs. The adulteries and iniquities of
this profligate Tetrarch, he dared to reprehend ; and,
in the cause of virtue finally shed his blood. Herod,
to the black catalogue of his crimes, added this, above
all, that he cast John into prison, and in an hour of
intemperance and rashness, at the instigation of the
lewd woman, with whom he lived in the basest inti-
macy, commanded the holy man to be beheaded.
TJius, in an age when sincerity was wonderful, and
virtue was singular, did the good Baptist constantly
speak the truth, boldly rebuke vice, and patiently suf-
fer for the truth's sake.

When we review his extraordinary birth and office;
his unequalled piety and humility; his noble concern
for truth, and the happiness of his countrymen ; and
his dignified resolution and manly constancy, even
unto death, in the cause of righteousness, we see a
rare example of excellence, and feel the truth of our
Lord's declaration, that " among those who are bora
of women, there hath not risen a greater than John
the Baptist."

A few observations, pertinent to this subject, sug-
gest themselves to close this discourse.

We are not called, I conceive, my Christian friends,
to exercise all the austerity which the Baptist prac-
tised. Our divine exemplar, the blessed Redeem.ei;s

152 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

hath remarked, that, " John the Baptist came neither
eating bread, nor drinking wine," and that he, himself,
was "come eating and drinking;" hereby teaching us
that, his '' kingdom" consisteth not in " meats and
drinks, but in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the
Holy Ghost." But tl)ore is a measure of self-denial,
salutary to the growth of goodness, and which, as
Christians, we are bound to practise. Wliatever is
vain in the pomjjs of the world ; whatever is covetous
in its pursuits; whatever is sinful in the desires of the
flesh, we renounced at our baptism ; and if we would
preserve our interest in Christ, are solemnly obligated
to fulfd our vows. While, therefore, we enjoy all
that we can innocently enjoy, and guard against a
selfish sequestered pursuit only, of our own salvation,
we are to remember that " the world's infectious," and
that Jesus hath said of his disciples, " they are not of
the world."

Again. We may learn from what has been said,
how certainly respect attends integrity. Though his
manners had not received the polish of refinement, and
the people were very depraved, among whom he lived,
the Scriptures assure us, that all men reverenced
John. There is sometliing so great, so elevated, in
the character whom Jiothing can cause to swerve from
principle and duty, that the mind is forced to approve,
the heart is compelled to respect. Even the vicious
are conscious of inferiority; and, under the veil of
profligacy, carry a secret, uncoiKpierable reverence,
for the good man. Herod, the debauched, heedless
Herod, w ho had only to speak and the Baptist should
be put out of life, could not suppress in his bosom,
that awe of his virtue, which such resolute integrity
never fails to excite. His base paramour had, before
the fatal hour, sought to kill the reprover of her vices,
but could not; for, says the historian, *' Herod feared
John, knowing that he was a just man and a holy."
( .ould a more striking evidence of the majesty of virtue

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 153

be adduced? It is an instructive lesson to us all, but
est)ecially so to my young friends, who are yet forming
the character of their lives. You will find enough of
your own age, and, indeed, of an age that should set
you better examples, ridiculing the principles of right-
eousness, and spurning at the restraints of duty. But
be assured, my young friends, there is an innate supe-
riority in virtue, which the most profane and profli-
gate, do secretly reverence, and from which they
would decoy you, for no other reason, but because,
superior excellence is always irksome to corrupt minds.
Be induced, with manly resolution, to build your clia-
ractersof the godlike principles of truth and rectitude:
and you will find that, with regard to the esteem of
your fellow men, as well as in other inii)ortant res-
pects, the maxim of the wise man is strictly true, " he
that walketh ui)rightly, walkoth surely.''

Finally. To the honourable encomium, which
raised John to a level w ith the greatest " who are
born of women," our blessed Lord hath added this
remark, "nevertheless, he that is least in the kingdom
of Ciod, is greater than he;" greater in the measure of
revelation bestowed upon us; greater in the relation
which we are adopted to bear to God anil his Christ;
greater in the truths with which we are impressed;
they being the fulfilment of what he understood only,
as to come ; and greater in the promise of the Father,
to raise us to be " Kings and Priests" unto him in his
eternal kingdom. How thankful, then, should we be,
for our Christian vocation. With w hat sobriety, and
self-respect, should we walk through this i)robalion-
ary life. Let us endeavour, by a bright exhibition of
the Christian excellencies, to indicate the dawn of the
days of righteousness and peace. Let us all be anx-
ious, " so to prepare and make ready the way" of our
Lord, " by turning the hearts of tiie disobedient,"
through the influence of our example, " to the wisdom
of the just, that at his second coming, to judge the

VOL. u. 20

154 ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.

world, we may be found acceptable in his sight," and
be taken by him, to enjoy, with St. John the Baptist,
and all the Prophets; with the Apostles and all the
Martyrs; and with all the "spirits of the just made
perfect," that glorious rest, which, through his merits,
is reserved in heaven for the people of God.

SERMON LIX.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

St. Matthew, xvi. 17.

And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art
thou, Simo7i Bar-jona; for flesh and blood hath not
revealed it unto thee, hut my Father which is in
heaven.

J. O contemplate the characters, "whose names and
conduct the divine Spirit has rescued from oblivion, is
an employment obligatory upon the Christian, pleasant
and instructive. Their lives were recorded, purposely,
for the perusal and benefit of mankind. The diver-
sity of incident, the view of our own nature in various
interesting shapes, and the improving lessons which
they impress on the heart, amuse, while we consider,
and carry us interested through the hallowed tales.

156 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

Among the characters who appear in the gosjiel
history, Peter holds a conspicuous place. Peter, first
of Apostles, all-powerful in preaching and in miracles,
reverenced by Romanists as the Church's head, noblest
in confessing, frailest in denying the Lord. His life,
together with St. Paul's, furnish the principal mate-
rials of which the Acts of the Apostles are composed ;
and his Epistles, form a valuable part of canonical
Scripture. Richly fraught witli lessons for us all, is
the history of this Christian hero. And as the day,
set apart by our Church in honour of his memory,
falls, in this year, witli the weekly solemnity, there
cannot be a more pertinent, and, with the divine bles-
sing, we may find it a very profitable, subject for our
present meditations. To trace the leading incidents
of his life; to mark the iiromiiiciit features of his
character; to gather the reflections \Nhich invite obser-
vation; these, be our labours; and to profit, alike by
his virtues and his frailties; this, be the consecration
of our work.

Of the parentage of St. Peter, we know nothing
more, than tliat he was descended of one Jona, or
John. His father, however, seems to have been in
indigent circumstances; for. this son was bred to the
occupation of a fisherman. To toil upon the lake of
Gcnnesaret, for an humble livelihood, was Peter's em-
ploy, and in this laborious business, he was associated
with three others of the most eminent disciples of our
Lord. When we behold the great Apostle dragging
his net in the waters, or mending it upon the shore, it
seems not probable, that he had received of his parents,
nor been able to aftbrd himself, many advantages of
education. In the place, indeed, of his nativity, these
advantages were not easily attainable. He was born
in Bethsaida, a village upon the border of the lake,
small in his youthful days, and chiefly inhabited by
fishermen and hiuitsmen, notwithstanding the name
and maguilicence, which it shortly alter acquired.

CHAllACTER OF ST. PETER- 157

*' But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world
to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak
things of the world, to confound the things which are
mighty; and base things of the world, and things
which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things
which are not, to bring to nought things that are."

The scene in which he is first introduced, is his first
interview with Christ, as related in St. John's gospel.
This interview, he owed, under heaven, to the affec-
tion of a younger brother. When the Baptist pointed
out Jesus to his disciples, as " the Lamb of God who
was to take away the sins of the world," Andrew was
one of the happy two, who followed him to his abode,
and became acquainted with him. The first care of
this amiable man, to whom was allotted the crown of
martyrdom, was, to find his own brother Simon, and
disclose to him the discovery of the Messiah. Peter
went with him, to behold the man, and as soon as he
was come, Jesus called him by name, declared to him
bis descent, and gave him a prophetic notice of his
future destination. Thus, to fraternal love and zeal,
is owing the first intercourse between Christ and this
renowned of his followers. Happy would it be, if, in
every family, the ties of affection bound the members
as closely together, and each one were as anxious that
the whole should be brought to see and acknowledge
" him, of whom Moses and the Prophets did write."

It appears, however, that Peter did not, at that time,
attach himself wholly to Christ. He returned to his
home, and pursued his occupation. At a later period,
after John was cast into prison, Jesus came the second
time into Galilee. It was then, that, walking by
Gennesaret, he saw the fishermen and their boats,
and in Simon's boat, taught the people who pressed to
hear him. He now ordained the miraculous draught
of fishes; which stupendous act, wrought conviction
in the mind of Peter, that he was the Lord, filled him
with becoming reverence and fear, and laid the fpun-

158 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

elation of his adiierence to Christ. The Saviour, at
this time, bade him follow him, and taught him, that
his occupation would be greatly changed; that, in
future, it should be his business to take and save the
souls of men. Here is the date of Peter's determined
attachment to our Lord. Human imagination ; any
thing he had heard of men; flesh and blood; did not,
could not, fix his faith in Christ. But when by the
power of the Father, displayed in the works and word
of the Messiah, and by Internal assistance to discern
rightly his character and truth, it was revealed to Peter
that he was the Christ, he confessed, he adored, he left
his friends, his business, his home, his all, and followed
him. His faith was grounded on the divine evidences in
Christ's favour; to estimate which evidences, he was
blest with a hajij^y readiness. Similar, and increased
evidences, arc offered to all, and a like readiness to
discern them, \\ ill be given to those, who, with docile
minds, implore it of the Almighty. A faith thus
founded is the firmest and most satisfactory. It will
enable any possessor of it, whatever men may say of
the Redeemer; yea, though the world should renounce
his gospel, to adhere to Simon's confession, " thou art
the Christ, the Son of the Living CJod."

Humility is the sure attendant of real greatness. It
is an indication of worth in any character. Of all
worth, it is an ornament. This virtue api)ears among
the first exhibited in this great Apostle, and breaks
forth upon us, frequently, in the conduct of his life, as
one of his peculiar proixMties. Upon his full discovery
of the Saviour's character, in the boat, this virtue was
seen in Peter in its genuine nature, and loveliness.
He felt conscious of imperfections; he felt his unwor-
thiness of the special notice of Christ. He prostrated
himself at his feet, and exclaimed, " Depart from me,
lor 1 am a sinful man, O, Lord." Conscious of frail-
ties; sensible of the infinite distance between him
and the Christ; shrinking from the supposition that he

CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 159

could be serviceable to tl)o Lord ; he was oppressed
by his presence, and felt, as once the noble Centurion
felt, and as every true disciple of the Redeemer must
often feel, " unworthy that he should come under his
roof." How interesting the scene! Behold this
mighty Apostle at Jesus' feet. Our hearts are reliev-
ed, as well as his, when the Saviour encourages him
tenderly, with a declaration of the high office to which
he was destined. Often was the same lowliness of
character seen in his life. How graceful does his
humility appear, when wounded by the approach of
his Master, to do for him a menial, yet symbolic ser-
vice, it exclaimed, " Lord, thou shalt never wash my
feet !" And yet, when Christ told him the necessity
of his submitting to be washed, how readily he relin-
quished his own sentiments to his teacher; "Lord,
not my feet only, but my hands, and my head !" None
of the Apostles received distinctions, more calculated
to elate the mind, than he did. But, though they
were so great, that posterity have founded on them,
for him, pretensions to such eminence, as they never
conferred; it is remarkable, that he wore his honours
with unassuming propriety, arrogating to himself no
superiority over his fellow Apostles, but exerting him-
self, even in the smallest offices, for the gratification of
his Master and brethren, and the salvation of men.
Throughout his ministry, he was, as his catholic
Epistle exhorted all Christians to be, clothed with
humility; and the stamp of his lowliness was set by
his contemporaries, who testify that, he thought him-
self unworthy to die on the cross, in the position in
which his Lord expired.

It is a frequent remark of good moralists, that humi-
lity is congenial with true greatness of spirit, and all
the energies of a manly character. Following St.
Peter in his attendance upon our Lord, and his dis-
charge of the ministry to which he was appointed, we
find the observation verified. His meejcness was

160 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

Mended with courage; his humble sense of his unwor-
thiness, with zeal for the truth. There opens upon us
an honest warmth, an iniE;enuous boldness, which,
though we fear the consequences, we cannot but ad-
mire. Who can avoid approving emotions, when, in
the earnestness of regard, he girds on his fisher's coat,
and plunges into the waves to swim to the Lord,
whom John had discovered upon the shore r What
bosom is not sensible to his heroism, when, conscious
of the integrity of his cause, he checked Malchus in
the garden, and thought with two swords, and a little
band of ten, to protect his Master from the armed
rabble, which came out to take him? Who can with-
hold admiration at his firmness, when he appears be-
fore the Sanhedrim, or rises in the Synagogue? In
the discharge of his ministerial duties, what general
dignity, wisdom, candor and steadfast perseverance !
The union of humility like his, with such ingenuous
frankness, and honest zeal, constitute a character
which we cannot help loving and respecting, and
which the iMost High delights to honour.

Accordingly, it is to be observed, that eminent hon-
ours, favours, and marks of distinction, were be-
stowed on Peter by his Lord. Early called to the
knowledge of Christ, he was admitted to his most inti-
mate confidence. It was his privilege to witness the
transfiguration of the Hcdcciner. In the selection of
the twelve, from the number of followers, to be his
ambassadors and representatives to all the earth, he
was the first. In the retirements of his Master, and
the sacred scene of Gethsemane, he, if any one, was
an attendant. He had, on one occasion, the special
prayers of Christ to the Father, and was assured that,
though Satan would sift him, he should not be lost,
and might bo a mean of strengthening his bretiiren.
But the greatest of his honours, and that which, in the
kalendar of half the Christian world, has elevated
Petor to supremacy, is recorded in the i>assage of

f!H4RACTr.R OF ST. PETER. l6l

which the text is a part. " And Jesus said unto him,
Blessed art thou Simen Bar-jona, for flesh and blood
hath not revealed" my character " unto thee, but my
Father who is in heaven. And I say also unto thee,
that thou art Peter, and upon this rock, I will build
my Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail
against it. And I will give unto thee, the keys of the
kingdom of heaven ; and whatsoever thou shalt bind
on earth, shall be bound in heaven ; and whatsoever
thou shalt loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven."
These words of Christ have been stretched by some,
to an amazing extent; and by others, they are almost
reduced to a passage without meaning. One, has
made of them an elevation of Peter over all Apostles,
to the place of Christ; the other, has made of tliem a
reward to his faith of senseless sounds. That some
honour or reward was conferred on Peter, by this dec-
laration of his Lord, is indisputable. What that
honour was, whether it was participated by the rest
of the Apostles; or how it was realized, are points
which are intimately connected with the history we
are contemplating. Tiiat the declaration did not com-
municate a supremacy of power over the rest of the
Apostles, is evident from a variety of considerations.
It does not appear, that Peter ever claimed, or exer-
cised such a sui)criority. Before this commission,
induced by his seniority, or natural eagerness, he had
often led the debate and si)oken for the whole. And,
after it, he did, indeed, rank first, and chiefly manage
the coranraon weal. But, it was a distinction of rank,
not of authority. There was no pre-eminence in
power. If any thing he did were wrong, or displeas-
ing, no doubt it was corrected by the rest. Indeed,
he was by the Apostles called to account for his inter-
course with Cornelius, and when he was to be blamed
for Judaizing in Antioch, we know that, St. Paul
" withstood him to the face." Besides, the expres-
sions in the tleclaration which eonvey power, are

VOL. TT. 21

162 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

afterwanl applied to all the Apostles, and expressions
synonimous, are used by the Saviour in the farewell
commission given to the eleven, immediately before
his ascension into heaven. The giving of the keys,
was clearly symbolical of the power of the receiver,
to open and shut, to bind and to loose, to admit and to
exclude, and, in general to manage, or superintend the
management of all the spiritual interests of the
Church. This power was declared to the twelve,
without the use of the symbol, when, at Capernaum,
h^ assured them, " whatsoever ye shall bind on earth,
shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall
loose on earth, shall be loosed in heaven." The dec-
laration was confirmed alike to Peter, and to them, in
the grand commission they received when they were
assembled after his resurrection, and he stood in the
midst, '• whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted;
and whose soever sins ye retain, to them they are re-
tained."

But, if all share in the Apostolic authority, what
distinction was conferred on St. Peter? Something
appropriate to him, was certainly intended by those
explicit words, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I
will build my Church." Let us give the most proba-
\Ac lairport of the words, and, recurring to the life of
the Apostle, observe liow the promised honour was
realized. This, then, we conceive to be the substance
of the Saviour's dcclaralion. Tliou, instructed of my
Father, hast nobly confessed me to be the Christ. I
acknowledge thee, Peter, fitly named a rock. Thou
shalt be the first stone, or pillar of my Church. From
thee, shall be its fitrst growth. Thy preaching, thy
firmness, thy labour, shall make the beginning, shall
lay the foundation; and, once established, it shall
never be overtiirown. Now, if we can find all this
fulfilled, and nothing more relating to the subject
experienced, by the great Apostle, all doubts and difii-
culties must vanish, and every mind be satisfied witli

CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 163

the construction of the text. Return we, then, to the
sacred history. When the Lord was risen from the
dead, who of the Apostles was favoured with the first
appearance? Peter. Who proposed, and managed,
the filling of the vacancy made in.-"' ' '' -Ko

Apostles, by the fall of Judas? Peter. When me
Saviour, about to leave the earth, determined to vest
that power which he had received of the Father, in
certain of his followers, for the government and bene-
fit of the Church on earth, the power of receiving,
rejecting, teaching, judging, forgiving, &:c. who was
the first selected to this great, and honourable office;
to this support of the form, and order, and purity of
the Church? Was it not Peter? This same Apostle,
first preached the risen Jesus, and by an irresistible
discourse, gathered the first increase from the Jews,
even three thousand souls. He, too, first opened the
gospel to the Gentiles, and Cornelius with his family,
were the fruits. In all these things, from which arose
by gentle gradations, the visible gospel Church, Peter
was eminently the chief instrument. We see his Mas-
ter's promise verified. In these honours, the excellent
qualities of the Apostle were called into exertion, and
his humility, zeal, and noble confession of Christ,
abundantly rewarded. We see his virtues, observe his
favour with him who distributeth all gifts, and ac-
knowledging him first of Apostles, unite a reverence
with our love for his character.

Our time having now elapsed, the subject ^vill be
resumed in the afternoon.

SERlMON LX.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

St. Matthew, xv-i. 17.

And Jesus answered and said unto him, Blessed art
thou., Simon Bar-jona; forfJtsh and blood hath not
revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in
heaven.

An our discourse, Christians, this niorniiis, concern-
ing the great Apostle, whom the Church lionours this
day, as highly favoured of her Lord, we adverted to
his origin and occupation ; to his felicity in having a
Christian brotlier who Hrst spake to him of the Mes-
siah ; to the miracle w iiich wrought conviction in his
mind, and his consequent call and resolution to follow
Jesus; to that humility, and that ardour, and that
manliness, when convinced, which were so strikingly

/CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 165

combined in him, and form the most prominent features
of his character; and to the honours and distinctions
conferred upon bim, by the Most High. Under this
last topic, we considered more particularly, the decla-
ration of our Lord, " Thou art Peter, and upon thi*
rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee,
the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever
thou shalt bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven;
and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, shall be
loosed in heaven." And while from the same delega-
tion of power being conveyed to all the Apostles, in
nearly the same words ; from St. Peter's never having
claimed, or exercised any pre-eminence over the ele-
ven; from his being called to account by them in a
particular instance, and being withstood in another
case, by St. Paul ; and from there being placed in the
Presidency of the fust t:oiiveiiiioii ot the Church, after
the ascension of onr Lord, not St. Peter, but the
Bishop of the mother Church of Jerusalem, St. James,
we inferred, that tlie use of the keys, was ecpially
shared by all the Apostles, and that there was no
ground offered, in the text, and context, for attributing
10 St. Peter, as the Romanists have erroneously, and,
it is here supposed, unhapi>ily done, any supremacy;
we, nevertheless, saw in the special mercies and fa-
vours which Christ vouchsafed to him, and especially
in his being the first preacher of the Christian faith,
and in his gathering both the iirst Jews, and the first
Gentiles who were added unto the Church, a fulfil-
ment of our Lord's emphatic and discriminating pro-
mise to him ; and reasons why we should study his
life, and reverence his memory as one, whom the
Head of the Church had delighted to honour.

We here resume the history of this distinguished
Apostle, and although there are forebodings, which,
perhaps, the very boldness and ardour for which he
was distinguished, would warrant, it is not without a

166 CHARACTER OF ST. FEtER.

I)ersuasion, that his faith, which was ^o well fouudetl,
and our Lord's promise, which is for ever sure, will
bring him through every furnace, to which, in the
subsequent discharge of the ministry committed to
him, be may be exposed, purified by the fire and seven
times refined.

Warm in his affections, his faith grounded upon
evidence, and noticed with many favours, it would
jiaturally be expected, that Peter would be sanguine
in his attachment to his Lord. His afi'ection for his
Master and for his cause, was exceedingly ardent.
It seemed, indeed, as if nothing should *' separate him
from the love of Christ." Twice, he was foremost to
confess his conviction, that he was the Rlessiali. Ten-
der and determinate was his rci)ly, when the Saviour
asked the disciples, whether they, with the multitude,
would also go away. " Lord, to whom sliall we go,
thou hast the words of eceruitl life.'' He was con-
scious, himself, of the most sincfire devotion to his
Master. Anxious for his safety, studious of his ac-
commodation, careful of his honour, he ihouglit there
was no sufferings which he could not endure no sac-
lificc whicli he could not make, if his necessities
required it. When the Saviour declared, that one of
the twelve should betray him, no one was so uneasy
as St. Peter to have the dreadful truth explained.
When he declared tliat, all his disciples should forsake
him in the night of his distress, no one \\ as so >\ ounded
as St. Peter at the thought. Overflowing with aflec-
•tion, sure of its constancy, confident of his strength,
he cxidts to say, " Lord, I am ready to go with thee to
prison and to death ; though 1 should die with thee,
yet will I not deny thee.*'

We seem here t» see human nature in its best estate,
and virtue at its highest elevation. But, alas! that
nature is fallen; that virtue is frail. We tremble as
we advance. Blessed Apostle, would that we could
end thy story here! But. as if to put a reproach upon

CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 167

all human confidence ; as if to teach us that, of our-
selves, we are nothing; and that "there is," indeed,
" none good but one, that is God ;" as if to beget in
us charity for all men, and to furnish the most power-
ful enforcement of the sacred admonition, " Let him
that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall ;" as
if to keep us sleeplessly vigilant over ourselves, and
constantly cAercising, an immovable trust in God,
this great Apostle is jiermitted to err; and the Spirit
of God, in the sacred record, has exhibited to us, even
Peter, fallen! In an evil hour, this humble, zealous,
honoured, affectionate Apostle, overcome by his fears,
denied that he ever knew his Lord ! It was Peter's
failing, to rely too much on his own strength; he did
Jiot build his confidence suflicienlly on the divine sup-
port, nor recur to this, and rest upon it, in the hour of
difficulty, temptation and danger. This, incurred on
JiiiN the reproach of feeble faith, and brought him to
the awful error of his life. It is a humiliating inci-
dent. Let us look on it, not to revile, but to compas-
sionate. He has his Lord's forgiveness. Yes, before
the offence, the kind Uedeemer made his apology;
" the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." The
eye which turned, as tlie cock crew, upon the terrified
disciple, while it looked reproof, looked pity and for-
giveness. Soon as he rose from the grave, the kind
Redeemer evinces his tenderness for the offender's
feelings; "go, tell my disciples, and Peter." And on
the simple declaration of his love, to Peter it is given
" to feed Christ's lambs." Indeed, he atoned with
sighs, and labours for his faults. Never was contri-
tion greater than his, when " he went out, and wept
bitterly." The tears came from his heart; his anguish
was " bitter." But by exertion, he laboured to com-
pensate the Church for the disgrace he brought upon
it. We find him, with unequalled boldness, preaching
Jesus to his very murderers. He traversed all lands,
to carry the gospel of his Lord. In A^sia. and in

168 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

Africa, we trace his steps. In Europe, he preached
Christ. Every where, he sacrificed comfort, and ha-
zarded his life, that he might promote his Master's
cause. Not power, not pomp, not all the threats of
malice, not the dread armory of judicial death, could
dismay him. To demolish the strong holds of error,
and bring men to the knowledge of redemption
through Jesus, he was ready and desirous to " spend
and be spent" in the Lord's service. Kindly, Christ
had forewarned him, that when " he was old he should
be girded by aiioilier, and carried whither he would
not." Peter treasured in his bosom, this prophetic
notice that he should be crucified. But when old age
approached, and he was sure that he should shortly put
off his tabernacle, as the Lord had showed him, he
abated not his boldness, nor his zeal. We follow him
to Rome, unappalled by Nero, at whose namt- nature
shudders. There, j)ersecuted and perplexed, he gov-
erned, with St. Paul, the Church they together found-
ed; till the cruel emperor, intoxicated with malice, had
Peter barbarously scourged, and nailed him, a willing
and exulting martyr, to the cross.

Thus died thus great Apostle, after forty years' ser-
vice devo(<Hl to his Master's honour, the establishment
of Chrisliaiiitv , and the salvation of mankind. There
are some inferences from the history of this Apostle,
which yon will allow me to suggest, in closing this
discourse.

In the first place, in considering the history of St.
Peter, we are struck with the holiness and dignity ol
the Christian Priesthood. It is evident, the kingdom
of heaven, in the commission to the Apostles, signi-
fied the Church, and that the keys of it were given to
him, to exercise on earth. No one can suppose the
Saviour intended, that, at the death of Peter, these
keys should be lost; nor is it probable, they were then
to be resumed by himself. The delegation of the
power, in itself <?iipposes the neccs<;ity. or expediency

CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 169

of its being exercised, by some persons in the world,
and the communication of it afterwards to all the
Apostles, shows that its operation was not to be
confined to St. Peter, nor to terminate at his dis-
solution. The truth is, in " sending them as his
Father sent him," he sent them with power to send
others; and the constitution of his Church, with his
assurance to its ministers, that he would be " with
them to the end of the world," evinces that, he ex-
pected they would do so. The Pastors of his Church
are, then, his " ambassadors," representatives in
" Christ's stead," acting in his name, and by his autho-
rity; and, surely, " no man taketh this honour unto
himself" In those to whom it is given, the sacred-
ness and dignity of their office indisputably requires
that, on their foreheads, and in their hearts, and
through their lives, should be inscribed " Holiness to
the Lord.' And dors it not give them a strong, and
sacred claim, to the love, the prayers, and the respect
of all Christians! " He that receiveth you, receiveth
me; and he that receiveth me, receiveth him that sent
me." The Pastors of his Church, sent successively
from the Apostles to the present day, have then " the
ministry of" the Christian " reconciliation," inlcuding
in it, all the promises of pardon, grace, and everlasting
life, committed unto them; and while the explicit
declaration of this economy to Peter, and conveyance
accordingly, should beget in us an entire confidence in
this institution of our Lord; the use we should make
of the fall of the great Apostle should be, to remind us
of the inspired admonition, that " we have this trea-
sure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of tlie
power should be of God, and not of us."

Again. From the life of St. Peter we learn, that
frailty is inherent in the best of men. We are apt to
look in eminent, and in sacred characters, for perfec-
tion. But it is, what never yet was found in mortal.

VOL. n. 22

170 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

Great worth may be acquired, high attainments may
be made in virtue, in wisdom and divine excellence.
But some weakness, some heedless error, some fault
or foible, will still betray, of all but Jesus, that every
descendant of Adam, is a fallen, and sinful being.
What noble, and lovely qualities, have we beheld in
Peter. A thousand exrellenries to attach us to his
character. Who more concerned to be perfect, or
more instructed in his duty than he. Did he not
seem fum in his station, as the rugged oak, defying
every blast. Yet, a light breeze laid him prostrate,
shorn of his glory! Where he felt strongest, his
weakness was betrayed. He fell, where he thought
himself most secure. If he, great and good as he was,
erred, in whom shall we look for perfection! If the
cedars of Libanus have been shaken, what have wo
not to fear for the hyssop on our walls! Do we, then,
discern imperfections in our fellows? Let us remem-
ber, that we, like them, are men, and may as greatly
err. Is tJiere not, that entire rectitude and holiness in
the ministers of the altar, which we expect? Let not
their office, nor Christianity, suffer neglect, contempt,
nor blame. Cover their failing, or look on them
with holy grief, and remember that Peter was unfor-
tunate. Let not the errors which we find in any of
our race, disparage their good (pialities. With sor-
row behold, with tenderness reprove, the frailties of
each other; for "there is none that doetli good, and
sinneth not.''

Further. The history we have been contemplating,
suggests to us that, one frail step should not consign a
man to blame aijd neglect; that he who has erred,
may yet be good and useful. The chief labours of St.
Peter, the noblest honours he gathered, his best ser-
vices to his Master and tlie world, wyre after the odi-
ous event which stained his character. Had he been
reprobated at once for his fault: had he been aban-

CHARACTER OF ST. PETER. 171

Joned by his Lord ; had he been left to himself, to his
shame, and to his iniquity, what a valuable character
might have been lost to the world, what valuable exer-
tions might have been lost to Christianity! But his
Lord was wise, and kind as well as just. The look
which drew his tears, raised also hope, and resolution,
to retrieve his virtue. He "wept;" was treated
kindly; and became the mean of bringing thousands
to eternal life. This instance speaks an affecting les-
son to mankind. How many men, condemned by
society, for one mishap ; how many friends discarded
by their inmates, for one folly; how many children
abandoned by their parents, for one misconduct; have
" wept" their miseries and their faults in vain;
sunk in despair, and become wholly criminal. Par-
donable, should the first error always be. Yea,
" seventy times seven," if the offender turn repent-
ant, should he be forgiven. Would we learn the
proper aspect of repreliension ? Look at the Sa-
viour's eye when it fell upon Peter; catch, if it be
possible, but part of its expression. It may recover,
while it reproves the offending son, or brother, or
friend.

Lastly. From this narrative, let us learn the for-
bearance and tenderness of our Lord. If he forgave
Peter, his denial of him in the hour of distress, hon-
oured him with excellent gifts, and made him great in
his kingdom, what may not every penitent, humble
offender, hope from his love. Does the Lord by trials,
by afllictions, by perplexities, seem to look angrily
upon you? Be assured, they are reproofs for our
good. Call to mind your imperfections. Bewail your
unfaithfulness. Devote yourselves to him anew, with
full purpose of amendment of life. Then shall his
strength be perfected in your weakness. Instead
of the reproving eye, the healing light of his coun-
tenance, shall be lifted up upon you. Like the

172 CHARACTER OF ST. PETER.

great Apostle in the text, you " will go from
strength to strength," till " unto the God of Gods"
you appear with him covered with the righteous-
ness of your Redeemer, and partakers of everlasting
glory.

SERMON LXI.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW.

Matthew, ix. 9.

And (ts Jesus passed forth from thence, he saw a man,
named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of custom; and
he saith unto him, Follow me. And he arose, and
followed him.

LY thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are
your ways my ways, saith the Lord." Possessing
sovereign freedom to do as he pleases, and guided by
infinite wisdom, which sees the end and consequences
of things, he oft times acts for reasons, incomprehen-
sible to us, in ways, which seem mysterious. In the
dispensation of favours, frequently to our narrow sight,
he appears to act with an unequal hand. And in the
selection of instruments for the accomplishment of his

17C CIIAIlACiER OF ST. MATTHEW.

purposes, frequently to our iinilc judgements, he
chooses such as are unsuitable and unworthy. But
*' known unto God, are all his works from the begin-
ning of the world," and the issue of them all, to the
astonishment of our ignorance, is glorious, wise and
beneficial. A singular instance of this truth we have
in the selection of Matthew, to the sacred, important,
and honourable post which he filled. It is an eminent
display of the sovereignty of his grace, and a wise
part of his economy in the promulgation of the gos-
pel.

There have come down to us, but few particulars of
this great Apostle and Evangelist. The parts of his
life which are known, arc clear and important; tliey
ought to be remembered and understood, as fragments
of a valuable antiquity. While our Church leads us
to honour his memory, as one of the pillars on which
her goodly fabric rests, it becomes us to be acquainted
with his character and Ule, as far as the knowledge of
them is preserved, and to avail ourselves of the instruc-
tions, which may be derived from the sober contem-
plation, of his vocation and ministry.

The first knowledge that we have of Matthew, he
is sitting in a tolbooth, at Capernaum, uj^on the bor-
ders of the sea of Galilee. We learn from the other
Lvangelists, who speak of him by his other name,
Levi, that he was the son of a certain Ali)heus. But
of the place of his nativity, his education, Sec. there is
no information. lie was, at the time when we first
hear of him, in a very lucrative, though a very iniqui-
tous office. Alter the Romans had subjected the
.Tews, they imposed upon them many heavy tributes.
The collection of these, was a very profitable business;
and, at first, entrusted only to Romans, and they of
honourable rank. But, in process of time, it was
conferred upon less worthy characters, and, at length,
the Jews were permitted to buy the office; and col-
lected, with much gain, taxes upon their own country-

CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 175

men. Abuse soon ensued. So covetous and unjust,
so abominably exorbitant, fraudulent, and cruel were
they, in the time of Christ, that Publican, was an
hated term ; an epithet of great opprobrium. Caper-
naum was the metropolis of all GalileCj and on the
sea, by which it stood, there was much passing and
conveyance of merchandise; among the tax gatherers,
therefore, it is probable, that Matthew's situation was
one of the most lucrative and eligible. How he had
conducted himself in it we cannot say. He should
not, however, be included in an indiscriminate censure.
Possibly, he might have been honest; for in all classes
of men, some that are worthy may be found. There
were a few names even in Sardis; and, in one instance,
the Saviour pronounced a Publican "justified," be-
fore a more respected, and important Pharisee. Be
this as it may, certain it is, that he was of the number
of Publicans when the Saviour's eyes were turned
towards him. When he received the invitation to
follow the Redeemer, he was " sitting at the receipt
of custom."

We have here, an instance of the unlimited mercy,
and goodness of God. None of his fallen children,
are excepted in his gracious proffers of salvation.
From an odious class of men, and a proverbially ini-
quitous employment, Matthew is called to be an Apos-
tle of Christianity, and the first writer of the history
of our Lord. I know not with what reason, any
have considered this as an exemplification of the sove-
reignty of Jehovah, in absolutely and unconditionally
electing to their happiness, those who shall be saved.
To me it would scorn, that God is supreme over all
his works; but that, in vouchsafing to raise conspicu-
ously, to the hopes and honours of the gospel, those
who were notoriously " dead in trespasses and sins,"
he would teach us, the infinite sufficiency of his grace;
and inculcate the truth, so worthy of his nature, and
sp consolitary to the human race, thnt his arms are

176 CHARACfTER OF ST. MATTHEW.

open to receive all who will hearken to his voice ; that
" he would not the death of a sinner, but rather that
he should turn and live." Art thou oppressed with
the burden of thy iniquities ? Has the path of thy
life, been remote from the way of God's command-
ments? Under the consciousness of thy manifold
sins, art thou ready to conclude that, for thee, there is
no mercy; that thou art rejected for ever, by thy God?
Rouse thee, from this despair. Hearken to the voice
of the Son of the Highest. Arise, and leave all, and
follow him. " Though thy sins be as scarlet, they
shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like
crimson, they shall be as wool." In the vocation of
St. Matthew, and throughout the whole gospel, thou
art taught that, Jesus " came not to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance."

The cavillers against our holy religion, have, with
sophistic levity, endeavoured to turn those things
against it, which, by the wise and considerate, are
placed among the evidences of its truth. To unbi-
assed reason, it appears no small argument of its
authenticity, that its first propagators were of the
himiblest, and poorest class of men ; so illiterate, as to
have been incapable of devising such an imposture,
and so destitute of wealth and i)Ower, as to have been
unable, by human means, to obtain such wonderful
success. But no; say the adversaries of the C'hristinn
faith ; they were so poor as to have nothing to risk, by
joining themselves to Christ; and so ignorant, as to
have been liable to credulity and deception. In the
method of propagating the gospel, wonderfully has
God condescended to the pcrverseness of men. \Vhat
^^ ill these objectors to the illiterateness of the primitive
disciples say, when Paul of Tarsus, a man of profound
understanding, and accomplished in all the learning of
his age, is found bouing the knee to the Lord .Jesus?
What will these cavillers at the poverty of the first
preachers of Christianity object, when the Apostle of

CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 17^

this day is observed among them? He was taken
from a sect so obnoxious to the hatred of the Jews,
that no impostor would have selected his coadjutors
from it. He had wealth to lose, and a very valuable
employment. And from his great intercourse with
men, from his success in procuring his appointment to
office, and from his pjeservation and exercise of it in
so populous a place, it is reasonable to conclude that,
he was not destitute of prudence, or understanding.
But, to the call of Cbrist, his ears were open. As
his poorer and more illiterate brethren, left their
friends and risked their safety, so he abandoned his
office and its emoluments, he left all, " rose up, and
followed him."

Here, we are not obliged to suppose, that St. Mat-
thew divested himself of all his possessions. It is not
the office of religion, to strip men of the blessings
which the Most High may have given them. We find
him, indeed, receiving Christ afterwards in his own
house, and making an entertainment for him and his
friends. But wc are to suppose that, he relinquished
all covetous inclinations; that he relinquished an
office abounding with temptations, and iniquities; that
he relinquished his attachment to ill-gotten wealth,
and was ready, if required, to devote all to the service
of his Lord. And to similar coniLluct, is every Chris-
tian called. Father, or mother, he may not love more
than the Redeemer. If his " right hand offend him,"
he will " cut it off, and cast it from him." Whatever
in his disposition or pursuits, is opposed to the holiness
of the gospel, he will sacrifice to the will of that Being,
who gave himself a sacrifice for i\\^ sins of the world.
You will not, therefore, deem it impertinent, if 1 be-
seech you, as Christians, to consider this conduct of
St. Matthew, as calculated to impress on you, the
necessity of removing from your bosoms, those covet-
ous desires of the pomps and vanities of life, and that
inordinate love of riches, which would lead you to

VOL. H. 23

178 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW.

pursue- them in any way, or by any means, wliicii nw
incompatibl'e with tlio precepts, or the spirit of tiic

gOS[)cI.

To return (o tlie narrative. It has apjieared to
soiiic, strange anil iiirrcdible, that Matthew should,
upon so sudden a command, liave quitted Ids gainful
occuj)atioii, and, with sucli ready obedience, have fol-
lowed a person with whom he had no acquaintance.
These dirficidiies will vanish, upon a recollection of
facts, and of the i)ower of the vSi)irit of God.

It is hardly supposable, tliat the Apostle had heard
nothing of Christ, and been wholly ignorant of his
doctrine, before he called him to his service. The
Publicans, we know, were generally curious to hear
him, and in the synagogues and streets of Capernaum,
he liad frequently taught. From his terrible denuncia-
tion against this city, it should seem too, that here he
had wrought mnny of his most mighty, and convincing
miracles. " And thou, ('apernaum, which art ex-
alted unto heaven, shall be brought down to hell; for
if the mighty works which have been done in thee,
hail been done in Sodom, it would have remained
until this day." It is evident from this, that most
salislaclory e\idencrs of his divine authority, had
been exhibited in this place. Can it, llien, be likely,
iliat an inhabitant, whose business was in the city,
\\ iti» all di'scrii)tions of peojile, should have heard
nothing of these discourses, and seen none of these
^\orks? It is a much more probable supposition, that
Matthew had heard the doctrines of Christ, and wit-
nessed the ^A•o^derfld testimonials of his mission,
which were daily exhibited, before he was called to be
his discii)le.

There is no difficulty, ho^^ever, in supposing, that
for extraordinary purposes, the Almighty should some-
limes act without the onlinary means. Hath not God,
the hearts of all men in his hands, and may he not
turn them even as he will ^ Ilath lie not access to the

CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 179

minds which he hath created, and may he not convey
to them such truth as he pleases ? When he would
select to himself, a peculiar people, could he " with
a mighty hand, and an outstretched arm," take them
from amidst another people; and can he not, when he
would select an individual for his service, take him by
the power of his Spirit, from darkness to light ? There
is nothing unreasonable in the opinion, that, if the
occasion required it, the Almighty would supernatu-
rally incline Matthew to his will. Upon either sup-
position, we are to refer to the Holy Spirit, the Pub-
lican's sanctification. It was unquestionably through
the aid, and under the blessing of the Comforter, that
he received and fulfilled his ministry.

But it is necessary, that I sliould here caution you,
against an unhappy perversion of this interesting case.
There is danger, in the present day, tiiat it may be
made promotive of spiritual delusion. The first age
of the gospel, was an age of miracles. Though God,
even then, did not act without regard to the nature of
men, he, nevertheless, for the conviction of the world,
vouchsafed many extraordinary manifestations of his
power and vSpirit. But now, that the economy of the
gospel is established, and the ways and means pointed
out, by which men are to secure the salvation of their
souls, I know not that any have more reason to ex-
pect, extraordinary influences upon their minds, than
they have to expect a light from heaven shining round
about them, as it did about Paul; or to hear the mira-
culous voice which he heard, speaking audibly from
the skies. God dealeth with us according to the
nature he hath given us, and the condition in which
we are placed. He hath given us " the holy Scrip-
tures, which are able to make us wise unto salvation."
His Spirit, indeed, must accompany his word, to ren-
der it effectual in our hearts. But, this Si)irit, I con-
ceive, operates as silently, as the orbs of heaven are
moved in their spheres, by the power of his invisible

180 CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW.

hand. Guard, therefore, against mistaking the glow
of animal feelings, for a spiritual sensibility. Guard,
assiduously, against mistaking the illusions of fancy,
for the motions of the Holy Ghost. God seldom does
that, in a supernatural way, for the accomplishment
of which, he hath appointed elTcctual means, and
established regular laws. Enter into covenant with
him, by the rite which he liath ordained. Learn by
the light of his word, the whole system of your duties.
By prayer, and an attendance upon his institutions,
seek the aid of his Spirit, to enable you to i)erform his
will. With vigilant circumspection, and unwearied
diligence, endeavour that the means be efiectual. In
this plain, and reasonable coiuse, " be faithful unto
death;" and the immutable Autlmr of the everlasting
covenant, will not fail to " give you, a crown of life."

We turn, again, to the highly favoured Publican,
and behokl him enrolled among the Apostles of our
Lord. Doubtless, he was not deficient in his ser-
vices; but, with tlic eleven, spent his time and
strength, in spreading the glad tidings of salvation to
all people. One special service, it was liis happiness*
to perform for the Church and the world, which re-
flects a peculiar t;lory upon his momory, and endears it
to all the faithful. The hrst, and most complete bio-
graphy of our blessed Lord, was from his pen. The
divine Spirit, employed his hand to record the events,
and doctrines, in \\ hich all posterity was interested,
and the knowledge of which, is destined, in the ful-
ness of time, to become " the joy of the whole earth."
Written in a time of persecution, to support and esta-
blish the Jewish converts, as well as to convey to
posterity, the life and instructions of the Redeemer of
the world, it abounds with consolatory facts, and re-
vnarks; it notices, with peculiar exactness, the fulfd-
ment of the projihecics in the various events of the
Saviour's life; and it contains, the most awful, and
sublima particulars, o£ the du.v of the coming of the

CHARACTER OF ST. MATTHEW. 181

Son of Man. Such a treasure of wisdom and com-
fort, the heathen sages would have pressed to their
bosoms. You, my friends, will not allow yourselves
to be unacquainted with the excellent gift ; and should
you desire the aid of other men's thoughts, permit me
to recommend to you the Lectures upon it, delivered
by the pious and exemplary Bishop of London.

Of the latter days of St. Matthew, time has spared
no indubitable records. What was his fate; whether
he suflfered martyrdom ; at what age ; where, and in
what manner, are points, however interesting, which
are involved in uncertainty. But, whatever were his
other services, and end, let us adore the extent of the
divine mercy, and honour the memory of the man,
who laid the foundation of the gospel history. From
his ready obedience to the call of Christ, let us learn
the propriety, of not delaying to comply with the same
invitation, which, in his word, is given to us and to
all men; " Follow me." By considering the station
and employment, from which he was called, let us
learn that, there is no condition, which the grace of
God may not reach, and, therefore, view with pity
and compassion the unfortunate wanderers in the
paths of iniquity. And, above all, by adverting to that
holy zeal, and Christian benevolence, with which, in
an age of persecution, he furnished the leading narra-
tive of the Saviour's life, let us be prompted, to a
lively concern for the welfare of the Church, and to
such a communication of the light and comfort, which
we have received, as may lead others to rejoice in the
same holy faith. " They thut be wise shall shine as
the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn
many to righteousiiess, as the stars for ever and ever.''

SERMON LXIl.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE
EVANGELIST.

St. John, xiii. S3.

Novo there icas leaning on Jesus'* bosom, one of his dis-
ciples wlwm Jes^us loved.

A. HERE is something so interesting in the situation
of the person here introduced; and so higli an honour
is attached to his character, by this i)icturesque men-
tion of him, that we at once inquire who he was.
Though his name is not mentioned, circumstances
sufficiently prove that the enviable description be-
longs to St. John, to whose memory the Church has
consecrated this day. Happy Evangelist, to be per-
mitted to recline, with affectionate fondness, upon the
bosom of thy Lord ; and have thy name transmitted

CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 183

to posterity, as emphatically " the disciple whom
Jesus loved."

But, how did St. John attain to such peculiar fa-
vour? Was there any thing in him, above the rest of
mankind, that the blessed Redeemer, who inculcated
and manifested an universal charity, viewed him with
such a partial regard ? Surely, the wise and equitable
Jesus, never felt a blind fondness for any individual.
What were the qualities, which gained his friend the
singular hap|)iness of his special affection? The
answer to these questions, will be the Evangelist's
best, and proper eulogium, and may lead us to some
useful reflections.

A peculiarly amiable disposition, with an ardent and
faithful attachment to his Lord, appear to have been
properties, for which St. ' John was distinguished,
above the other disciples.

From all tliat we can learn of him, he was a cha-
racter whom it would have been impossible not to
have loved. There was in his nature, that attractive
union of a modest, benevolent heart, with a luminous
and devout mind, with which those who know how
to feel and appreciate excellence, are always capti-
vated. Benevolence was the i)redominant trait of his
character; not a romantic feeling, an effeminate prin-
ciple, alive to artificial grief, but insensible to the real
sufferings of men ; concerned for those who are out of
its reach, but thoughtless of the claims of those who
are about it. It was a meek, yet manly benevolence,
defined as to its objects, and practical in its operation.
It was that benevolence, which makes the life amia-
ble; which feels, and pities when it feels; which car-
ries itself with a winning sweetness towards every
being, and finds its congenial pleasure in doing good.
Of this excellent princii)le, his heart was the seat.
This divine virtue formed his soul. His nature glowed
with that spirit of heavenly kindness, which views all
creatures with complacence or compassion ; and in the

184 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

happiness of others, finds its own. In all his writings,
this spirit is found. His Epistles, which are written
from the heart^ and, therefore, are the best evidences
of his character, glow with such an enlightened, pure,
and tender charity, that it is impossible any person, in
whom the last remains of goodness are not extin-
guished, should not be made better by reading them.
They show him formed to love, and to be loved. In
no other writings, is there such a luminous benevo-
lence. In truth, his joy, his life, his darling theme, to
his death, was love.

It appears that, St. John had deeply contemplated
the divine nature, and the fruits of his study manifest,
that his soul was capacious and devout, as well as
benevolent. We no where fuid, such exalted views
of the divine perfections, and such explicit statements
of the mysteries of the Godhead, as in those parts
of Scripture which are tlie productions of his pen.
He must have been by nature amiable. But religion
had, doubtless, improved the good dispositions which
nature had given him. It was, in all probability, his
acquaintance with God, and particularly his habitual
contemplation of the divine goodness, and of the ope-
ration of it in the salvation of men, which filled him
with that sitjrit for whicii he was cons|)icuous, and
raised him to a degree of excellence, whicii few mor-
tals have attained. That he was eminently devout, is
evident, not only from his great attainments in the
knowledge of God's truth, and from the i)ious fervour
which pervades many of his writings, but, also, from
the habits of his life. We find him in the city, going
up to the temple daily at the hour of prayer; and when
he was an exile in the Isle of Patmos, though solitary
and afflicted, '' he was in the spirit on the Lord's day.""

Such a person as we have been contemplating,
could not but have loved the transcendent character
of Jesus Christ. Congenial spirits, will attract each
other. Nor is it imputing selfishness to the Savioirr

CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 185

to suppose that, he was influenced by the Evangelist's
attachment, in admitting him to his intimate friend-
shij). It seems to be a law of eternal equit}^ that a
man who would have friends, must shovv himself
friendl}', and the most disinterested Being avows that,
" he will love them who love him."

That the Evangelist discovered an ardent attachment
to Christ, there can be no doubt. The mild, the pure,
the benevolent, the divine Redeemer, could not but
have been loved by one, who, gentle by nature, when
he had been filled by grace was so much like his Lord.
All that he was, and did, and taught, is calculated to
obtain the homage of good minds, and an indifference
to the loveliness of his character, is among the surest
evidences of corruption of heart. A disposition, like
St. John's, would readily yield to the impression of
such transcendent excellence. The position in which
we see him in the text, is not more indicative of the
Master's partiality, than of the disciple's love. It is,
indeed, to the ardour of his attachment, that candour
will attribute his unguarded expression concerning the
Samaritans ; the only instance of severity in his life,
a severity, which nothing but the exalted mercy and
divine forbearance of the Son of God, would have
impeached. As this great friend of all mankind
passed through Samaria, the ungrateful Samaritans
refused him the common civilities of humanity.
Wounded to the quick, by this disregard of his Lord,
the disciple would have called down fire from heaven
to destroy them. In this one instance, his zeal out-
stripped his benevolence. It served to show, that he
was mortal ; and manifested, that even to the lovely
John, the humble Jesus was superior.

There was a fidelity, as well as ardour in the attach-
ment of this disciple to his Lord, in which no other
disciple equalled him. Constancy marked his love.
When the Saviour was hurried to judgement, his com-
panions forsook him, or followed to deny him; but

vor« Ti. 24

186 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

John, with generous courage, went in with him to see
the end. It was a dismaying end ; but we find him at
the foot of the cross, a mournful spectator, when we
look, in vain, for any one of his compeers. , On the
morn of the resurrection, he left even the zealous
Peter behind him, though they set out together; so
great was his desire to be at the sepulchre of his Lord,
if, haply, any good had betided him. There is no
truth more certain, than that the amiable virtues are
connected. His uniform tenderness, and genuine
benevolence, his modesty and piety, were pledges of
his faithfulness as a friend. He adhered to his Mas-
ter, when the rest failed. His attacliment seems to
have been such, as danger could not dismay, nor
adversity interrupt, nor any thing destroy. To whom,
indeed, but to one, whose known fidelity furnished
ground for the most entire confidence in him, would
the Saviour have connuitted the b(;loved mother whom
he had honoured in life, and was about to leave in the
world, pierced through with many sorrows. " When
Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple standing by
whom he loved, he saith unto his mother. Woman,
behold thy son! Then saith he to the discii)le, Behold
thy mother!" What an expression of confidence!
What a tribute to the Evangelist's worth! Who can
forbear to envy the discii)le this testimony of his Lord's
regard ! His subsequent conduct, verified all that has
been said ol his amiableness, and fidelity ; for transfer-
ring his afi'ection for his Master, to the object who
was dear to him, and scrui)ulously obedient to his
wishes, he " from that hour took" the disconsolate
mother " to his own home."

Many were the trials and sufferings, to which he was
exposed after his Master's ascension. But, with a
firmness of faith, which neither crosses, nor exile, nor
the boiling cauldron, nor all that angry power threat-
ened could bend, he maintained the religion of Jesus;
writing a gospel, that it might be preserved in its in-

CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 187

tegrity, and ready, at all times, to seal it with his
blood. In short, he merited not less by his character
and conduct, than by his office, the title with which
his name has descended, of " the Divine." Amiable,
modest, enlightened, benevolent, devout, ardent in his
attachment, pure in his affection, capable of confi-
dence and fidelity, he appears to have been formed by
grace, to be the bosom friend of Jesus Christ.

To this high privilege and happiness was he raised.
His sweet disposition, his amiable deportment, his
enlarged soul, his piety and purity, rendered him more
like his Master, than any other of the disciples, and,
aided by his ardent attachment and devoted zeal, in all
probability, procured him that place in the bosom of
Christ, with which he was honoured. It was not a
transient, nor superficial partiality, which the Redee-
mer felt for him. It was an union of his heart with
the disciple's whom he loved. That this happy
favourite was admitted to intimacies, and enjoyed in-
dulgences of the most endearing nature, is evident from
Peter's beckoning to him, to obtain an answer to the
solemn question, which all feared to ask. He occu-
pied the place of honour, and leaned in the posture of
innocent affection, upon Jesus' breast, when they were
together. He was one of the chosen three, whom
Christ took with him to the interesting scene of his
transfiguration on Tabor, and to the tremendous scene
of his agony in the garden. To him, as we have no-
ticed, was committed the dearest pledge which Christ
left on earth, in the most affecting hour of his earthly
existence. And it was he, who was honoured with
those mysterious revelations, which wrapt in their
wonderful folds, all the purposes of God towards his
Church. As if his character and qualities, rendered
him peculiarly fitted to recommend the gospel to the
world, he was continued on earth, long after all his
fellow Apostles slept in the dust, and in compensatioo
for his long separation from his beloved friend, waj§

188 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

favoured with visions, and divine communications,
and made the honoured instrument of singular service
in his cause. He is said to have died Bishop of Ephe-
sus, at the venerable age of an hundred years, exhibit-
ing to the last, that sweetness of disposition, and all
tliose estimable qualities, for which Jesus loved him.
There is a tradition in the Church, that a\ hen the in-
firmities of age forbad him to make long discourses, he
contented himself with repeating to those who heard
him, that great lesson of his Master, tlic new com-
mandment of the Christian scheme; " Love one ano-
ther."

Such was St. .John, whom, if it were permitted us
to desire tiie felicity in which another, better than our-
selves, was made ha|)py, the Christian might, perhaps,
with more i)ropriety envy, than any other being of the
human race, " the discijilc whom .Icsus loved."

From what has been said, we may learn, in the first
place, that our religion is not hostile to those precious
pleasures, wliicli arc derived from individual friend-
shii). Our Lord had his particular friend. From the
circle of his disciples, he chose one congenial ))erson,
to whom he opened his bosom, and loved him with an
especial love. It did not interfere with that general
benevolence, A\hicli is due to all men. Fvery hunian
being, had a proper portion of his regard ; the claims of
none were overlooked ; all his extraordinary affection
for his friund, was a surplus of love. It was coinci-
dent with tiie inclination of feeling minds, to seek the
joys which friendship only yields, that, to have left it
unauthorized by his religion, would have been a great
disparagement. Unauthori/xd, did I say? May we
not say that, he has recommended it ? Is not his ex-
ample as holy as his precepts? ^^hat could have in-
duced him to prefer one course of virtuous conduct to
anotiier, but, to point out tlie way in which we may
enjoy the greatest happiness, and attain to the highest
degree of excellence of which our nature is suscepti-

CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 189

ble? That a friendship such as religion approves fs
indisputably useful, precious, and oftentimes salutary,
is the advice on which we rely. Animating and pro-
motive of noble imitation are the excellencies of a
friend. How operative is respect for his opinion, in
restraining one from any tiling which his virtue would
reprove. How favourable is his sympathy, in the day
of sorrow, to our peace and resignation. That it con-
tributes to the hapinness of life, who needs be told?
It is a boon, wiiich every person can estimate. . Its
pleasures are confessedly the purest, and most exqui-
site, of any this side lieaven. We may not, therefore,
hesitate, I conceive, to believe that, the Saviour en-
courages by his example, to the cultivation of a virtue
so favourable to the happiness and improvement of
those, whom he delighted to guide into the paths of
bliss. And how amiable does he appear in thus enter-
ing into the feelings of men. What a commendation
does this give to his gospel. Surely, the religion is
sublime, and must have the happiness of men for its
end, which, while it inculcates an universal charity,
excludes not its disciples from the pure felicity of an
individual friendship, which multiplies all our jo)'s by
sharing them, and, by dividing, lessens every woe.

But, to avail ourselves rightly of this liberty, we
nmst learn from our subject, what are the qualities,
for which we should look in those, whom we adn^it
to our closest intimacy. A good friend is not easily
found. The bliss of this treasure, is rarely enjoyed ou
earth. Led on by feeling; overpowered by good na-
ture; captivated with llattery; infatuated by some
single excellence, men often fall into such friendships
as are inconstant, as fortune smiles, and end in bitter^
ness. Would you have a friend who will be sincere^
and useful: whom you may trust to enter into yom*
bosom, and particii)ate all your thoughts; who will bt^
faithful to your hai)piness; stand unaltered in his at-
tachment when adversitv assailjs you. and by his advictt,

190 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

his sympath)', his example, and his tender reproof, be
to you a treasure beyond all price? Guard against the
malignant, the envious, and the immoral. Be not caught
with splendid vices. Seek the heart wiiicli is formed
to benevolence, and hallowed by religion's purifying
influence. The value of the accpiisition, will repay the
most active caution. To be secure from disappoint-
ment, choose such a character as "Jesus loved."'

Again. Wc may learn from the subject we have
contemplated, how we may, with certainty, obtain the
favour and approbation of our great Ixedeemer. To
please him, is surely our desire. If, as we have lately
commemorated, he left the bosom of his Father to visit
us for our salvation, to be indifl'erent to his pleasure,
must argue the basest insensibility. Now, we have
seen what the qualities were, which he .idmired in the
beloved discii)lc. He is unchangealjle in his aflVctions,
" the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." What
once pleased him, he will always approve. To the
amiable virtues, which obtained John his appropriate
affection, he will always give his partial regard. Cul-
tivate, then, the kind and benevolent disposition,
which the gospel commends, and be ardent and faith-
ful in your attachment to your I^ord. Be meek and
tnodest; pure and devout; and the happiness, which
you envy the Evangelist, may be your own.

Once more. We may learn from the history of
.lohn, both chnrity and humilit)'. " Why callest thou
roe good," with unparalleled meekness snid Jesus
Christ, " none is good but one, that is God." And in
vain shall we look for perfection, in any of our friends,
or in any earthly being. What am 1 going to disclose
to you! Three times was the beloved disciple obnox-
ious to his kSavioui-'s reproof; when, influenced no
doubt, in some degree, though probably not only by
his mother, he sought to sit on the riglit hand of iiis
Master in his kingdom, and received the answer, "ye
know not what ye ask;" when, in an hour of passion,

CHARACTER OF ST. Jt)HN THE EVANGELIST. 191

lie would have imprecated vengeance upon those who
did wrong, and was told, " ye know not what manner
of spirit ye are of;" and in the garden, when, during
the agony of his Master, alas, for the infirmity of oui-
nature! with Peter and James, John also fell asleep.
" The Spirit," said Jesus, '* is willing, but the flesh is
weak." Learn hence, not to exi)ect faultlessness iu
your fellow beings; and, especially, to bear with, to
cover, and to excuse the imperfections of your friends
Though Jesus had occasion thrice to reprove John, he
was, nevertheless, " the disciple whom Jesus loved."
" Admonish a friend, it may be he hath not done it;-
and if ho have done it, that he do it no more. Ad-
monish thy friend, it may be he hath not said it; and
if he have, that he speak it not again. Admonish a
friend ; for many times it is a slander, and believe not
every talc. There is one that slippeth in his speech,
but not from his heart; and who is he, that hath noi
offended with his tongue?"

8*

But, you are ready to say, if we could have been
partakers of John's privileges, we should, at least, be
happier, if not worthier of his Master's love. And this
leads me to observe, finally, that of the peculiar privi-
leges, with which the beloved disciple was blest, we
may virtually partake. Would you be witnesses of the
scenes, to which the choscin three were admitted? On
the wings of faith you may ascend the heavenly Tabor,
and contemplate the glory of your Lord, and Moses,
and Elias, the Fathers and t|je Prophets, there talking
with him. In the hour of meditation, you may go
into the garden, and ponder the agony which your
Redeemer sustained, with better intelligence, and live-
lier concern, tlian they possessed, whose eyes, because
of the hour, and the fatigues of the day, and the powqj
of darkness, were unhappily weary. Is it the happi-
ness of "leaning on Jesus' bosom," that you desire?
Of this you may, in some degree, participate, by cast-
>ijig your cares upon him ; by resting your spirit^- upoji

192 CHARACTER OF ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST.

his merits and intercession, when you are oppressed
with the consciousness of your weakness; and, by
pouring out to him in faithful confidence, your sorrow s,
your wishes, and your fears. But, perhaps, it is his
legacy which you envy the distinguished John. You
are ready to resolve, that your joys and faithfulness
would, be unspeakable, could you have had the mother
of Him who died for you, committed by her Son to
your care. Amazing wisdom of the economy of
Christ! Of this satisfnrtion, you may partake; of the
sincerity of tiiis resolution you may give evidence, by
bestowing your compassion and kindness upon any of
the members of his family, especially when, like his
bereaved parent, they are in aillliction, poverty, and
distress. For what is the record which " the Spirit
of Truth" hath made? Hear the words, and engrave
them, as the sacred incitement to the best and most
profitable deeds of Christians, on the tablets of your
bosoms: " He stretched forth his hand towards his
disciples, and said, Behold my mother, and my bre-
thren! For whosoever shall do the will of my Father
which is in heaven, the same is my brother, and sister,
and mother.''

SERMON LXm.

ON THE CHARACTER OF BALAAB*:

n Peter, ii. 15.

Balaam^ the son of Bosor, who loved the ivages of un=
righteousness.

the course which the Church directs for publicly
reading the holy Scriptures, we are, at this period,
brought to a very interesting, singular, and instructive
piece of sacred history. The story of Balaam, attracts
our attention by the matter to which it relates, the
ancient customs with which it is interspersed, and the
strangeness, and wickedness of his conduct, whom it
more particularly exhibits to our view. In this cele-
brated divinen', we behold ap extraordinary mixture of
just sentiment, with perverse practice; right appre-
hensions of God, with direct opposition to his will;
Y,OL. u: 2B

194 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

seeming piety and inspiration, with diabolical pur-
poses, and dis;?raceful instability. It is a character,
necessary to be studied; not only that we may derive
instruction from it, but, also, that we may perceive the
justness of the censure, passed upon him in the gospel,
and not be led, by the occasional appearance of pro-
priety in his expressions and behaviour, to think him
less criminal than he is represented. For so wise and
prudent, so pious and just, does he seem to be in par-
ticular passages, that the cursory reader may be ready
to exclaim : Wherefore is he blamed ; how cautious
his steps; how sublime his visions! Examination is
necessary to understand his character. When we
have well observed it, we shall be struck with its in-
consistency and baseness; and wonder, that he ever
possessed a virtuous sentiment, or cherished a holy
habit in his bosom. To mark it, as it opens upon us
in the sacred narrative; to trace its peculiarities to
their cause, and to show its awful termination, will be
leading objects of this discourse; in which, we will
take the inspired Peter for our monitor, and rely upon
thee, thou " Author and giver of all good gifts," for
assistance, and an improving blessing.

The occasion of Balaam's being introduced, was the
arrival of the Israelites upon the plains of Moab.
Dismayed by their numbers and fame, by the wonders
which had marked their footsteps out of Egypt, and
the destruction which they poured upon their foes,
and particularly by their recent, terrifying conquest of
the Amorites, and powerful King of Basan ; tiie JMo-
abites trembled at their approach. They consulted
with the eldei-s of Midian, about the common safety,
and their mutual communications were a striking ac-
complishment of the prediction of Moses, that the
nobles of Edom, and mighty ones of Moab, should be
dismayed by the greatness of the divine arm, in deliv-
ering his people.

CHARACTER OP BALAAM. 195

Something was to be done, for defence against this
mighty company which devoured all before it, " as the
ox licketh up the grass of the field." It was an inir
portant part of ancient warfare, to seek the influence
of the gods, and imprecate the foe. In the Greek
and Roman classics, there are traces of this custom ;
and it appears to have been prevalent among most of
the heathen nations. They were wont, before going
to battle, to endeavour, by sacrifices and oblations, to
enlist on their side, their own and foreign gods, and
by the imprecations of some priest, or magician, to
devote the enemy to destruction. Being a worshipper
of Chemosh^ and credulous in these vain superstitions,
it was the first care of the King of Moab, to send for
a diviner to " curse the people." He hoped that,
thus, with the aid of his sword, he should be able to
prevail ygainstthem, and drive them out of the land.

Accordingly, messengers were sent, with the pre-
sents which were customary on such occasions, to
Balaam, the son of Bcor, or Bosor, a cclcbiatcd divi-
ner, who dwelt in Mesopotamia, to invite him to
Moab on this absurd business. From all that W(* can
learn of Balaam, it appears, that he was an acknow-
ledger of the true God. In many parts of the heathen
world, there were instances of persons, who, though
they were not Israelites by birth, or profession, gather-
ed from the rubbish of Paganism, some decaying frag-
ments of the knowledge, which was diftused through
the world at the dispersion from Babel, and, in various
ways, renewed by the economy of divine Providence ;
which fragments, furnished them with an imperfect
sentiment of the one, supreme, eternal, Being. As it
was in this part of Mesopotamia, that Abraham dwelt
before his removal to Canaan ; and here, that Jacob
and most of his sons, once had a residence, it is less
surprising to find here, some traces of true religion ;
some inconstant remembrance of the true God. Be
this as it may, it is certain that, we find Balaam speak-

196 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

ing of the Lord Jehovah as his God, and acknowledge
ing his supremacy over the minds and afl'airs of men.
There is, also, reason to suppose, that he was one, to
whom the Most High had vouchsafed to make some
special communications. He had clear notions of
being met by God; felt a confidence which must have
been grounded upon past experience, that when he
should inquire of Jehovah, he should obtain a revela-
tion, and, indeed, is expressly styled a Prophet, in the
context, and other parts of the sacred volume. It
would seem, too, from some of his expressions to
Balak and his messengers, that he had a sense of tlije
supremacy of the divine will, and of his obligation to
observe God's commands. Such is the fair side of
Balaam's character; an acknowledger of the true
Gml, admitted to the privileges of a Prophet, and blest
■with a Just view of the paramount authority of the
divine requirements. How promising the appearance.
Who would not expect in hlin, a blameless conduct?
But, alas I 3iul instance of tlie corru[)iion of our na-
ture, and of the ease w ith which vice, when it is fos-
tered in the bosom, undermines the power of truth
and virtue, we shall presently find him, abandoning his
God, his character, and duty, for his pride and covet-
ousness ; and, to gratify these insatiate passions, prov-
ing a traitor to every good feeling, and a patron of the
basest iniquity.

But why, it may here be asked, did not Balak seek
a diviner among the worshippers of his own gods?
Why did he send for one to Mesopotamia, and for one
who acknowledged the God of his enemies? This
has, by some, been explained by the supposition, that
he believed the strength of the Israelites depended on
the power of their God, and that Balaam would induce
him to withdraw his inlluence, or turn it against them.
Shocking, as this notion may appear to us, it may
have been entertained by Balak. So lost were the
heathen idolaters to all just appreheik;ions of the

CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 197

Deity, that they readily believed the friendship of the
gods might be Iwught with sacrifices and honours.
We may find the Romans, once and again, most
solemnly employed, when making an attack upon a
city, to induce its tutelar deities to abandon it, and
become the friends of the besiegers. Balak, may have
adopted similar notions, and from the same principles,
have called Balaam from the mountains of the east.

It is not, however, absolutely necessary to resort to
this supposition. Balak ujay have been influenced by
the greatness of Balaam's fame, to prefer him before
any other diviner. That his reputation as a sooth-
sayer was renowned, and that the King of Moab had
great confidence in it, is evident from the language in
which he addressed him: " 1 wot, that he whom thou
blessest, is blessed; and he, whom thou cursest, is
cursed." Either he had formerly prophecied only as
he was authorized by his God, and the unfailing fulfil-
ment of such predictions had acquired him renown;
or he had been led by his covetousness to abuse his
office, and, taking advantage of the reverence for
astrology in the country, in which he dwelt, had be-
come eminent among those who used curiolis arts, and
prophecied for gain.

We are sorry to find, in returning to the narrative,
that this last conjecture is the most probable. The
messengers arrived, delivered their errand, and were
ordered to tarry all night, that he might consult with
the Lord. The Most High anticipated the Prophet,
and demanded who the men were that were come to
him. Upon his relating the facts, he received these
plain and positive instructions; "Thou shalt not go
with them; thou shalt not curse the people; for they
are blessed." Whether he was to be blamed, for
hearkening at all to the request and proffers of Balak,
as some have supposed, or not, thus much is indisputa-
ble, he had now a clear knowledge of the divine will,
'dn.6, unless he l)elieved God to be variable, or estecQjj^d

198 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

gain better than obedience, should have, henceforth^
held no further communications upon the disapproved
subject.

The answer, imperfectly reported to Balak, pro-
duced in him only the opinion, that the temptations he
had ofTered were not sufTiciontly great, and he imme-
diately dispatched a more noble embassy, with richer
gifts, and unlimited promises. His pride elated, and
his covetousness inflamed, Balaam looks upon the
honours and wealth which ho mi^ht acquire; and
doubts, whether he may not be indulged. How fatal
is the first hesitation of virtue. He who turns not
instantly from vice, but stops to view her baits, and
listen to her charms, gives himself to danger, and will
generally be ensnared. She is like the wily serpent,
which, if he once catch the eye of the unwary bird,
rivets it to himself, and, with well guided glances,
infatuating the poor victim, lures it to a nearer and
nearer approach, till, imabie any longer to withstand
the action of the fascinating spell, it rushes willingly
to irresistible destruction. How fortunate for Balaam,
if he had, at once, refused to listen to the proposals of
these messengers from Balak. He knew the divine
will was opposed to them. " Thou shalt not go; the
people are blessed," could hardly have ceased to sound
in his cars. Why, then, does he tamper with the
profl'ers of iniquity; why stand a moment on forbidden
ground? His heart is set upon the wealth of JMoab,
and the obeisance of its princes; and, though ac-
(juainted already with the will of the Almighty, he
desires the messengers to abide all night, hoping that
it might be changed. How afiVontive this presump-
tion! How dishonourable to the holy and inunutable
God ! What wonder that the Deity was almost, ready
to leave the headstrong man to his way, and since he
preferred his own wishes to his Maker's will, bade
him follow his inclination if he pleased. This is the
import of the Almighty's words. The permission he

CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 199

received to go, was rather a merited abandonment to
his own guidance. But he feels not the awful nature
of this abandonment. He rashly resolves to follow his
desire. Though slow to comply with the mandates of
infinite wisdom, nothing can surpass his obedience to
the passions of his own bosom. He rises early in the
morning, sa^ldles his ass, and is immediately on the
road to Moab. So voluntary a disregard of his known
pleasure, in one so favoured and well informed, ex-
cited, Justly, the anger of the Most High. Still, with
parental solicitude, he went out to check him in his
course. He stood in the way, in the person of his
Angel, with a brandislied sword, to imi)ede his career.
But, intent only ui)on reaching the place, and gaining
the promised rewards, he saw not this minister of
mercy and judgement, till " the dumb ass, speaking
with man's voice, forbad the madness of the Prophet."
It is the curse of covetousness, that it cramps every
expansive effort of the mind, and petrifies the heart.
When it is united with pride, cruelty is always the off-
spring of the pair, and, frequently, the associate of its
parents. Twice had the harmless beast, on which
Balaam rode, turned from tiie path of danger, and
twice, with cruel and more cruel blows, been forced
back. Brought to a situation in which she could nei-
ther turn, because of the narrowness of the way, nor
advance, because of the angel, she fell to the ground
beneatii her impatient rider. Enraged and blind, he
beats the faithful beast, with unrelenting blows, and,
instead of having his passion cooled by her sufferings,
wishes only that " there were a sword in his hand, that
now he might kill her." How seldom is one evil
passion alone in a bosom. How awful is any one at its
height. When several are raging at the game time,
what will they not make of man. How fallen is
Balaam from the divine image in which man was cre-
ated. How unlike the mercifd God. And who
fOuld expect tender mercies to his beast, from one.

200 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

who, to gratify his covetousness and ambition, was*
posting gladly to a distant i)Iace, to devote, as far as in
him lay, a whole nation of fellow men to destruction.

God, hath a care for all his creatures. He who
maketh the " ox to know his owner," and teacheth
"the swallow the time of her coming;" he who
formed man's mouth, and confounded ail speech at
Babel, he, even the Almighty Lord of all creatures,
espoused the cause of the injured beast, and gave her
power to utter her comi»laint, and, at the same time,
opened the eyes of the rider to his danger and folly.
At sight of the Angel, he fell ; and heard how he owed
his life to the animal he had so inhumanly abused.
" Unless the ass had turned from me, surely now 1 liad
slain thee, and saved her alive."

Surely, the Prophet will now see the folly of hi^
conduct. Surely, he will immediately return to his
home. Surprising perseverance! We hear no such
resolution; wc see no gratitude for his i)reservation,
nor any returning stei). There is nothing but a decla-
ration of his readiness to go back, couched in such
terms as express his willingness to go forward. " If
it disi)leasc thee." He knew it was displeasing. This
was ccpii vocation with the Almigiit}. It is true, the
Angel said, " go." Dur, it was such a permission, as
would have affected any good man like a prohibition.
"The word only which I shall speak, that shalt thou
say." Balaam knew that this word had pronounced
the people blessed, and was immutable, and, there-
fore, might have seen that his perseverance must be as
vain, as it was disobedient. But passion is always
unreasonable, and generally bbud. It sees no obsta-
cles, or thinks it can surmount them all, and thus im-
])els its victim to danger and destruction. Now that
Balaam alter all tliat has been said, and done by the
Most High, is eagerly intent upon following his own
will, and neglecting his Maker's, the Deity justly gives
frim up to himself, and he must abide thy consequences.

CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 201

The threatening Angel, most dreadful omen to the
evil man, the threatening Angel is removed from his
path. His covetousness resumes the empire of his
bosom. With renewed ardour he pursues his way to-
wards Moab, to disappointment, mortification, iniquity,
and ruin. Here we shall, for the present, leave him,
and this afternoon, conclude our remarks on tliis inte-
resting and instructive portion of holy writ.

VOL. u. 26

SER]\ION LXIV.

— ^o^—

ON THE CHARACTf:R OF BALAAM.

H TeteB, i* 15.

Balaam, the son of Bosoi, who loved the wages of un-
righteousness.

J.N the course of our remarks this morning, on the
character of Bahiani, we endeavoured to show that
covetousncss was the rei^nim; vice in his heart, and
that his disobedience to the known will of Cod, was
the effect of his inordinate desire of worldly gain. Our
observations brought us to the very interesting scene
between the Ass and the Prophet, and we left him
pursuing his way towards Moab. We now proceed
with the sacred story.

Arrived at Moab, Balaam was met and welcomed
by Bnlak, and brought to the royal city. With the

CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 203

princes of the country, he was invited by the king to a
religious ceremony and feast, and on the morrow after
his arrival, they entered upon the strange business for
which he had come. The heathen nations had, most
of them, " high places" consecrated to their gods.
They had, generally, upon them thick groves, as suited
alike to their meditations, enchantments, and lewd-
ness. To " the high places of Baal," the king brought
his diviner, from which he might take extensive views
of " Israel, abiding in his tents." Here was a baser
apostacy. It is painful to behold the Prophet blending
the odious superstitions of the heathen, with the wor-
ship of the Most High ; building " seven altars" to the
Lord Jehovah, upon the polluted eminences of Che-
mosh. Yet, with all the effrontery of a man resolved,
at any hazards, to accompUsh his purpose, he retires
from this mockery of devotion to meet God, and pro-
claims pharisaically, " I have prepared seven altars,
and I offered upon every altar, a bullock and a ram."
In the Person of the Uncreated Angel of his Presence,
the Deity appeared to him, and, therefore, it is said,
" the Lord met Balaam, and i)Ut a word in his mouth."
Having received injunctions what to say, he returned
to the Moabites, and found them still engaged in tlieir
profane services. With eagerness they listened, and
with disappointment heard. He declared his in-
ability to do as Balak desired ; and, actuated by fear,
or divine impulse, instead of cursing, greatly blessed
the people.

Here, one would think, all parties would have de-
sisted ; and from the sentiment with which Balaam
closed his parable, would suppose he had returned to
wisdom and to duty. Mindful of the honours heaj)ed
upon good old Jacob's head; struck by the blessings
entailed upon the posterity of the righteous; and con-
vinced of the immutable love and care of the Almighty
for the godly, the long relaxed chords of virtue seemed
to recover tone, and he could not help exclaiming,

204 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

" Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my
last end be like his." An exclamation worthy of the
noblest mind. But with sound principles, and just
sentiments, the slave of passion will often exhibit a
most blameahle conduct. He is drawn, or driven to
act against his judiiemcnt. He wishes to *' die the
death of the righteous," yet, he lives the life of the
Avieked. Still hoping a change in the divine will ;
still anxious, by every exertion, to satisfy Balak: still
unA>iHing to lose " the wages of unrighteousness," the
mad Proi)het suffered himself to be carried from place
to idace, among the high mountains of Baal, ofl'ering
upon Pisgah and Pcor, and on every i)olluteil hill, the
same heterogeneous, ai)ominai)le worship; as if the
mind of the Almighty were not the same in all places,
and could be altered by the dilVerent views which
were taken of the people I *' Ciod is not a man, that
he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should
repent, llath he said, and shall he not do it; or hath
he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" He had
selected this people for a blessing, and there could be
'* no enchantment" nor " divination against Israel."
Balaam was every time, sent back to his employer,
with a declaration of the hap|)y destiny of God's peo-
ple; and every renewed attempt to obtain a curse,
was answered by new and sublime visions, which re-
vealed greater, and yet greater glories, which should
vest upon Israel.

Though it falls not within our design, to notice,
l)articularly, the diflerent prophecies which enliven
and enrich this sacred story, it would not become us
to pass imnoticed that memorable prediction, which,
as the Prophet cast his eyes over the Israelites spread
upon the i)lains of Moab, he uttered concerning the
Tiedeemer of the world, m ho should come of that
neojile. There is something in it so sublime and
interesting, that I cannot resist the inclinatioji to ijitro-
diiec the remarkable pa^'^nge. " And he took up hi-^

CHARACTER OF BALAAM. 205

parable, and said, Balaam, the son of Beor, hath said,
and the man whose eyes are open, hath said; he hath
said, which heard the words of God, and knew the
knowledge of the Most High, which saw the vision of
the Almighty, falling into a trance, but having his e5'es
o|)en: I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him,
but not nigh : there shall come a star out of Jacob,
and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel." "Out of Ja-
cob shall come lie, that shall have dominion, and shall
destroy him that remainetii of the city." Our minds,
at the repetition of these words, immediately are
turned to the Saviour at Jkthlehem, whose herald to
the Gentiles was a star, and to that dominion of his,
which is to be from "sea to sea, and from the rivers
to the ends of the earth." \Vhilc we admire the pro-
phecy, and rejoice in its fulfilment, how melancholy
the reflection, that Balaam, with the glorious vision
on his mind, was yet the slave of an idolater, and led
by passion to seek the ruin of the people, from whom.
Christ was to come!

But, to return to Balak. Anger now rages in hisv
bosom, and he vents it upon the minion whom dc had
seduced. " Flee thou to thy place. I thought to
promote thee unto great honour; but, lo, the Lord
hath kei»t thee back from honour." Such hath ever
been the artifice of vice, to represent the restraints of
virtue, as injurious shackles; the requirements of God,
as obstacles to great pleasure and felicity. But " hap-
py is the man that feareth always;" "the integrity of
the upright shall guide him."

Frustrated in his expectations, and upbraided by his
employer, what is the conduct of Balaam ? Is not
"the madness of the Prophet" wearied into reason ?
Oh, awful instance of the unreasonableness of passion.
There is no fixing limits to its extravagance. When
once it has attained a supreme influence in tiic bosom,
there is nothing into which it may not lead its victim.
Though disappointed in his desires, Balaam's heart is

20G CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

yet intent upon its covetousness. He resolves to ob-
tain " the wages of unrighteousness" by a plot the
basest that ever man designed. Decency requires that
I conceal the stratagem. Snfiice it to say, that, unable
to alienate the Deity from his people, he resolved to
effect his purpose by seducing the people from their
God; and this diabolical design was to be accom-
plished by the sacrifice of every thing dear in one sex,
and honourable in the other. The Israelites were too
easily ensnared : and awful were the consequences.
The wrath of the Most High was brought ui)on them;
and a plague punished them severely for their initiuit.v.
The Moabites, however, reajjcd no advantage from the
sorrows of the pcoi)Ie. INIoses was ordered to march
against them. With rapid strides, and dreadful de-
struction, he marked his way; and, in the conflict
which ensued, the victim of his t)U u machination,
Balaam, fell, with the blood of jour ami twenty thou-
sand of the Lord's people upon his head; un|)iticd in
his death, and odious to all posterity. An e.\an)i)lc
this, of the veracity of that inspired and solemn aj)o-
thegm; " He, that being often re|)roved hardeneth his
neck, sliall suddenly be destroyed, and that without
remedy."

Vou have now seen, beloved brethren, the prin.ci|'al
l)arts of this sacred story; and the defects, and base-
ness of the person who is most conspicuous in it. It
is very full of instruction; but time will i)ermit me to
notice only two or three, of the most obvious remarks:
and it must be left to reflection to furnish the rest.

In the first place, we are taught in this narrative,
that clear principles, and even extraordinary gifts, if
they be not sanctified by divine grace, to the meliora-
tion of the heart and life, are no sure criterion of merit.
*• The manifestation of the Spirit is given to every
man, to profit withal." And he ^\ ho turns it to no
good end, would have been as well >a ithout it. In
Balaam, >\liat correctness of sentiment and extraordi-

OHARACTER OF BALAAM. 207

nary favours do we behold. But, while he sees what
is right, and prefers what is wrong, where are his
claims to praise or reward. He is ranked with the
seed of evil doers, and suffers the retribution of his
accursed practices.

Again. This story forces upon our consideration,
Iiow dangerous are the hesitations of virtue ; the first
inclinations to deviate from the path of duty. If Ba-
laam had been governed by the dictates of conscience,
and resisted the first wishes of his fatal passion, ho
might have escaped his vexations and crimes, and been
blessed with the death he desired. But, once seduced
into the devious path, he coiihl not easily leave it, and
by proceeding, as is generally the case, he became lost
to all sense of duty, remonstrances of conscience, and
restraints of the divine Spirit. Check, then, the first
inclinations to evil. When the will of God is known,
wish it not changed. Do not equivocate with it a
moment. Suspect yourselves, with the most anxious
and vigilant observation, if, in pursuit of any object
whatever, you find a secret desire in your hearts, to
go contrary to the rule of God's commandments.

Finally. We are taught by the meditations of this
day, how deplorable is his situation who is left to the
i^npulscs of his own passions, and given up " fo a rep-
robate mind." Balaam's danger was never the great-
est, till he was permitted to do as he pleased ; and man
is never in so awful a situation, as when conscience
has ceased to remonstrate, and inclination is his only
^uide. Oh! go not, my hearers, to that measure of
perverseness ; advance not to that degree of obduracy;
be not drawn, though tlie whole earth and all that it
contains, were the lure, into that willingness and de-
sire to sin, which may compel the Almighty to say
concerning you, " Ephraim is joined to liis idols, let
bim alone." Dreadful is the condition, and wretched
must be the end of that man, whom God has resolved
n\o longer to withstand in the way: to which he hath

208 CHARACTER OF BALAAM.

been led persistinsly to wed himself by perverse incli-
nation, and unhallowed desire. Cherish, then, the
admonitions of conscience. Obey the restraints of the
Almighty. Discern, at a distance, the Angel in the
path. Turn from every unlawful pursuit, and allow
in yourselves no wish, or inclination to do otherwise,
than as God allows. At the suggestion of your own
bosom; at the solicitation of your companions; yea,
at the voice of an angelic being, who would intimate
that you are free from the restraints of holiness, and
may go contrary to the will of God, be terrified, be
alarmed. Let it hurry you back to the most entire
compliance with the will of the Most High. For how
can he be safe, whom God no longer keeps? How
can he be virtuous or happy, with whom his Father in
heaven has ceased tQ remonstrate.

SERMON LXV.

ON THE CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

II Samuel, xvi. 15.

And Absalom, and all the people the men of Israel,
came to Jerusalem, and AJiithophel ivith him.

[E events of «cenes which are laid in the sacred
and tender relations of life, are always interesting, and
generally instructive. It is this, which gives the
Scripture narratives their unrivalled excellence. Un-
folding the fortunes and fate of a father, a son, or a
brother; a ruler or subject, a neighbour or friend, they
hold our attention by their applicability to our own
condition. Wc follow the intricate, and admire the
surprising ; we exult in the joyous and weep at the
Tragic ; we gaze at the monstrous, and recoil ifidignapt
VOL. ih 27

210 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

from the base, because, of men like ourselves, the
ston' is related.

The history of the person, whom the text intro-
duces to your view, is among the finest pieces of the
Old Testament. It abounds with incidents, which
touch the tenderest feelings of nature, and occur in the
dearest relations of life; and is full of useful and im-
pressive instructions, to every serious observer. All
may contemplate with improvement, this inspired story
of the beautiful, accomplished, and brave, yet, base
and unhapi)y Absalom.

This renowned person, was the third son of David,
by Maacha, the daughter of Tnlmai, King of Cieshur.
He appears to have been remarkable for the graces
and beauty of his body, as well as for his illustrious
descent. " In all Israel there was none to be so much
praised as Absalom for his beauty; from the sole of his
foot, even to the crow n of his head, there was no ble-
mish in him."

He is first introduced to us by the sacred historian,
as avenging his sister's wrongs, by the murder of his
eldest brotlier. He was prompted to this deed, by a cri-
minality on the part of Anmon, unparalleled, indeed,
for horrible i)lackness, iu the whole records of vice.
But, for resentment even of the greatest wrongs, to
trample upon the sacred commands of (Jod, in his
anger to slay a man, yea with premeditated and decep-
tive malice, to slay a brother, discovers thus early,
that inconsiderate, unprincii)hd spirit, which strength-
ened with his age, and was the cause of his ruin. If,
however, no other effects of this spirit were known,
his youth, the precious nature of a, sister's fame, a
something irresistible in every bosom, would plead the
extenuation of his rashness; and, with blushing si-
lence, we should drop our tears over the dismal tale.

But it is seldom that a life, which is uncontrolled by
religious fear, is marked with only one criminal act.
There is an infatuating power in vice. One step be-

CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 211

vend the line of virtue renders another less difficult.
There is no trusting to self command, when the bar-
riers of duty are down. Of him, who is destitute of
those hallowed principles, which would restrain him
from the commission of every crime, there is no cer-
tainty that he will refrain himself from the commission
of any crime. Vice is rarely single in tlie human
heart. The man, who can be hurried by anger, to
murder a brother, will easily be induced by ambition
to dethrone a father. Amnon's blood was white on
Absalom's robes, in comi)arison with the spots which
afterwards defiled them.

Having fled because of his guilt, to Geshur, in
Syria, he abode tiiere three years, with the royal rela-
tions of his mother. Time had now soothed the
wound in David's bosom ; and, forgetting the dead, he
longed to embrace his living, his favourite child. His
servants perceivinii; the tender anxiety which filled his
heart, contrived, by an ingenious stratagem, to obtain
permission to bring the beloved fugitive back to Jeru-
salem. And " Absalom returned to his own house."
Awful was the sentence of the law, which, as the
minister of justice and of heaven, the king was, per-
haps, obligated to have executed upon the offender.
It was important, too, to the virtue of his people, and
to the reputation of his government, that he should not
be supposed capable of conniving at crimes, even in
his own offspring. Therefore, though his son was not
punished according to the severity of the law, he was
not permitted, for two years after his return, to behold
the face of his father. This was vexatious to the
pride of the young prince. Through Joab, he remon-
strated to the king, who then received him into his
presence, and bestowed on him the kisses of affection
and forgiveness.

One would suppose, that henceforth, we should see
nothing, but filial reverence, and a virtuous life, in this
hitherto careless character. Surely, Absalom, it will

212 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

now be thy chief concern, to cheer the declining age of
the parent, whom thou hast so sorely grieved, and to
atone, by the regularity of thy future deportment, for
thy past misdemeanors. Alas, how slender are our
hopes of those, in whom the religious principle has no
place! How terrible is the jirogress of the wicked,
who have once given the reins to their will, and follow
the guidance of their evil imaginations! Restored to
favour, this unprinci|)led young man uses the riches of
jiatcrnal bounty, in procuring the gratifications of vain
desires, and the attendants, force and equipage, which
may add strength to his subtilty when he shall need it.
The heir presumptive murdered, and his intervening
brother dead, he aspires to the kingdom ; and, elate
with his personal charms and interest with the people,
fancies he can better manage its interests, than the old
king by whom it has so long been governed. With
mad ambition, he resolves to depose his fond, and
venerable parent, from the throne. ^VitIl worse than
mad ambition, ^^ itii the vilest, blackest treachery, he
plots his father's disgrace and destruction.

But how is it possible? Surely, the people will
cleave to the good king, to whom they owe such vic-
tories and iirosperity? This vicious, inexperienced
man, will no\cY be able to drive the renowned David
from his throne. So it should seem to sober rellec-
tion; but experience will tell us, it is no diflicult task.
The breath of |)opular regard, is varying as tlie wind.
The multitude are ever open to complaint, and fond of
change. Absalom has already some interest with the
people, and with the cunning of his mind, and smooth-
ness of his address, he may first blind, and then lead
them as he pleases. Observe the artifice he used.
" And Absalom rose up early, and stood beside the
way of the gate; and it was so, that when any man
that had a controversy came to the king for judge-
ment, then Absalom called unto him, and said, Of
what city art thou.' And he said, thy servant is of one

CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 213

of the tribes of Israel. And Absalom said unto him,
See thy matters are good and right, birt there is no
man deputed of the king to hear thee. Oh, that I
were made judge in the land, that every man which
hath any suit or cause might come unto me, and I
would do him justice. And it was so, that when any
man came ni^li to him, to do him obeisance, he put
forth his hand, and took him, and kissed him." And
thus he " stole the hearts of the men of Israel." Vic-
tims to tlie delusion of api)earancc, they became a
prey to his designs, and verified, what the ^^ hole his-
tory of man attests, that the smooth guise of deceit, is
oftener tlie mean, by which bas(Miess accomplishes its
purposes, tiian the fair argument of reason, or the
rougii arm of violence.

When the passions are engaged in any evil pursuit,
and th.e mind has given itself to its attainment, there is
nothing at which it will slop. Truth or falsehood,
affection or enmity, piety or depravity is assumed by it,
with equal ease. The man, who permits himself to
depart from the path of rectitude, exposes himself to
be hurried into every species of inirpiity. Hebron
was the jilace, where Absalom had determined to
rally his forces, and assume his usurped authority.
It was necessary, he sliould assign some reason
for going there, and he scruples not to insult his
God, and use i)iety for his |)lea. He entreated his
father, that he might go to Hebron to offer certain
vows to the Lord, which he had vowed to jiay when
he abode in Geshur, " if the Lord should bring Jiim
again to Jerusalem." To such ignoble duplicity; to
such ruinous falsehood, must the man be driven, who
abandons the restraints of principle, and enlists in the
prosecution of an evil work.

We may be surprised to think, that in so short a
time, this daring youth should be emboldened to at-
tempt his enterprise. But, there are ahvays weak
men, to be the tools of such characters; and wicked

214 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

men, to be their abettors. There accompanied liim
many, who, the narrative says, " went up in tlieir sim-
plicity, and knew not any tiling," and the subtle,
famous Ahithophel came from his city, to aid the un-
natural conspiracy. It was this Ahithophel, \a ho had
been the confidential counsellor of J)avid in his pros-
perity, and now joined liimscll' to his foe. It was this
Ahithophel, who persuaded Absalom to prostitute his
dignity, his virtue, and every noble feeling, to the base
accomi>lishment of his nefarious designs. It was he,
who could advise a son, to the most certain ways of
harassing, and destroying a father, and when he found
his counsels neglected, departed to his house " and
hanged himself" How often have such counsellors
become the victims of their own j)lots, and been left by
the awful judgement of God, to punish themselves for
their o\\n dei)rnvity.

liy the aid of this evil man, new followers of Absa-
lom were daily increased, and he succeeded so far, as
to compel the king to flee ^\ith his adherents from
Jerusalem. And here, there o|)ens upon us one of the
most alfecting scenes, which imagination can picture,
or conceive. A venerable monarch driven from his
city, in the evening of life; a city, whose i)rotector
and ornament he had been; driven Irom it, by his son;
by the son of his fondest indulgence; a son, whose life
he had spared, when it should have been taken for
justice, and who owed to him the strength and address
which he turned against him. Ill-fatid David!
How now returned to thy ear the Prophet's awful
denimciation; "the s\^ ord siiall never depart from thy
house!" With \n hat bitter remorse, didst thou review
the sin which brought all this evil upon thee. But he
bore his adversity like a good man. With meekness,
he kissed the chastising hand, and sustained all the
aggravating circumstances of liis calamity. " Carry
back the ark of God into the city," said he to Zadock ;
" if I shall find favour in the eyes of the Lord, he will

CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 215

bring me back again, and show me both it, and his ha-
bitation : but if he thus say, I have no delight in thee ;
behold, here I am, let him do to me what seemeth good
!Uito him." With sentiments like these, the grieved
parent left the city ; " and Absalom, and all the peo-
ple, the men of Israel, came to Jerusalem, and Ahi-
thophel with him."

With such designs, and counsellor, and leader, what
might we not expect from this posture of affairs. It
is happy, indeed, for men, that there is Deity, whose,
providence rules the events of life. By a wonderful
interposition, the counsel of Ahithophel, which would,
most probably, have been successful, was rejected, and
the advice of Ilushai, a friend of David, in disguise,
was unanimously ap|)roved. This shrewd person, ex-
horted him to assemble all his numerous adherents,
" and go forth with them in person to the battle."
Addressing himself to his vanity, he elated him with
an anticipation of glorious achievement, and delighted
the vain Absalom with the thought, that if his adver-
sary were " gotten into any city," his zealous army
would " bring ropes to that city, and draw it into tiie
river, until there was not a small stone left."

And now the time approached, when the Most
High would bring upon this wicked, rebellious son,
the vengeance which his crimes deserved. The ar-
mies entered the field ; and Absalom with his hosts
were defeated. Terrible was the slaughter among his
people. He took to flight. But, as he rode in his
haste through the wood, in which the battle was
fought, " his head caught hold of the thick boughs of
an oak, and he was taken up between the heaven and
the earth, and the mule that was under him went
away." Apprised of his situation, Joab hasted to the
place, and thrust him through with darts, and the ad-
herents of the king took down his body and cast it
into an ignominious grave. Unhappy end of an im-
i)rincipled lifeT

216 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

You are, doulrtless, anxious to know, how the king
received the tidings of this extraordinary issue of the
]>fittlc. AVords cannot express his grief. His parental
tenderness, the struss^es of nature, are so beautiful!}
described l)> the sacred historian, that I must give you
the scene in liis own words:

" And David sat between the two gates, and the
watcinnan went up to tiic roof over the gate unto the
wall, and lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold a
man ruiming alone. And the watchman cried and
loid the Kim;. And the king saiii, If he be alone,
there are tidings in his mouth. And he came apace,
and drew near. And the watchman saw another man
ruiming; and the watchman called unto the porter,
and said, Behold, anotiicr man running alone. And
the king said, He also bringcth tidings. And the
watchman said, IMelhinkelh the running of the fore-
most is like the running of Aliimaaz the son of Zadok.
And the king said, He is a good man, and comcth with
good tidings. And Ahiniaaz called, and said unto the
king. All is well. And he fell down to the earth upon
his lace, before the king, and said, IJlessed b(; ilie Lord
thy God, Vv ho hath delivered u|) iliemin that lifted ui)
(heir hand against my lord the kin::. And the king
said. Is the young man Abi>alom safer And Ahimaaz
answered, ^Vhen Joab sent thy servant, I saw a great
tumult, but I knew not what it was. And the king
said unto him. Turn aside, and stand jjere. And he
turned aside, and stood still. And, behold, Cushi
came; and Cushi said, Tidings, my lord the king; for
the Lord liatli avenged thee this day of all them that
rose up against thee. And the king said unto Cushi,
Is the young man Absalom safe? And Cushi an-
swered, The enemies of my lord the king, and all that
rise against th(.'e to do thee hurt, be as that young man
is. And the king was nnich moved, and nent U|) to
the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he wept,
he covered his luad. and cried, O. my son Absalom!

CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 217

my son, my son Absalom, would God I had died for
thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" Not the victory
over his enemies, nor all the gratulations of his friends,
could solace his sorrows for the melancholy fate of his
rebellious child. The utmost wickedness had not
exhausted his parental love. Like the Eternal Father
over our fallen race, his pity yearned over the misfor-
tunes of his son; and the profligate youth, as is gene-
rally the case, occasioned more grief at his death, than
he had done good in his life.

From this interesting story, which we have thus im-
perfectly contemplated, we may derive many usefuX
reflections.

In the first place, it teaches us all, and ospnrialb' the
young, the solemn importance of acquiring a control
over our passions and desires. These, if left to be their
own directors, may make us base; will make us mise-
rable. To what duplicity and rashness; to what bar-
barity and guilt; to what unhappiness and min, was
Absalom led by his ungoverncd anger and ambition!
It is probable, in the first determinations of his mind,
not half tlic wickedness into which he should be
drawn, was foreseen. A brother's blood ; a parent's
anguish ; perfidy and parricide, are objects, methinks,
at which the most monstrous nature would, at first,
recoil. But passion is an infatuating master. When
it has bent the man to the attainment of its object;
thought, mercy, duty, a parent's claims, God's posi-
tive commands, all fall before it. It makes a man in
its haste, what he would shudder to be, in the most
vicious moments of reflection. While we mourn its
elfects, in the beautiful Absalom, let us learn the wis-
dom, let us see the necessity, of early and steadily
bringing every thought of our hearts, under the disci-
pline of reason and religion.

The story further teaches parents, the solemn im-
portance of implanting and cultivating in their ofl*-
spring, those principles, which are the only sure itTe-

vor.. u. 28

218 CHARACTER OF ABSALOM.

servatives from debasement and crime. Happy for
David, had he been more severe with his darling son.
Not that we plead tlie cause of justice, and chide tlie
weakness that spared liis life. For who can wonder,
that the arm was feeble \>hich should have been lilted
for the destruction of a child. But lie was evidently
too indulgent. It should seem impossible, that such
hypocrisy, treacl>ery, and cruelty, such a total destitu-
tion of moral feeling, could exist in a bosom, which
had early and proi)crly been formed, to the sensibilities
of virtue, and obligations of religion. The probability
is, that, delighted with the graces and accomjilishments
of his external form, he vainly doated on his beauteous
boy, and neglected to form in him the iirinciples of
truth and duty; the better beauties of a virtuous mind.
Sad were the fruits of his indulgence, and neglect.
Let i)arents learn from it, as they value their jjcace,
and their offspring's felicity, to consider good princi-
ples, and upright habits, as the best gifts they can be-
stow upon their children.

We may, tiiirdly, learn, from this history, the bar-
barity and odiousness of fdial disobedience. Who can
behold the good king, and " sweet singer of Israel,''
driven in old age from his house and city, ;uid read
that, lie " went up barefoot, by the ascent of Mount
Olivet, and wept as he went ui)," without feeling his
bosom rise indignant at the monstrous son, who could
thus destroy a fond father's jieace I When we hear the
parent, unsubdued by the indignities of his child, say-
ing to the captains of his hosts, as they went forth to
the battle, " Deal gently for my sake, witJi the young
man, even with Absalom," who can help remarking
the strength and disinterestedness of the affection,
which lives in a parent's breast; and feeling the sa-
credness of the duty, which we owe to our fathers and
mothers! Well may filial ingratitude wear the stamji
of baseness in every clime. Justly does it deserve the
pointed displcasigre of the common Father of men.

CHARACTER OF ABSALOM. 219

(J)bservc, what shame and wretchedness it brought
upon Absalom, and mark the source from which his
punishment came. " The Lord had appointed to defeat
the good counsel of Ahithophel, to the intent that the
Lord might bring evil upon Absalom."

Finally. We may learn from our subject, the folly
and danger of priding ourselves in the possession of
personal accomplishments, and external charms. We
see, in the case before us, that this may be joined with
all that is odious in nature; that they may conceal a
heart, and cover a disposition, which excite our abhor-
rence. Pride, too, in these exterior excellencies; in
the graces of person; or human accomplishments, is
apt to render men negligent of more solid and useful,
nobler and more permanent qualities. Had Absalom
thought less of his beauty, he would have thought
more of virtue. Had he trusted less to his cunning,
lie would have depended more upon his God. As if
to punish this foolish vanity, external endowments
when unaccompanied by the excellencies of the heart
and mind, are generally sources of misconduct, and
disappointment to their possessor, and often are the
causes of disgrace. Beautiful were the locks of Ab-
salom ; with pride he polled them every year, and
weighed the produce after the king's weight. But, alas,
vain youth ! He was caught in the tree by his flowing
hair, and the occasion of his pride was the instrument
of his ruin. Let every one, then, be induced to build
his complacence, only on the excellencies of an amia-
ble heart, and upright mind. Let us cultivate those
princii)les and habits, which shed a genuine, perma-
nent, and protecting lustre upon life. Let us seek the
glory which cometh from God only, and array our^
selves in the beauty of that wisdom, in which we may
be truly lovely, v* hilc we are here, and " shine as the
>tars for ever and ever," in another and a better world,-

SERMON LXVI.

ON THE CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN
EUNUCH.

Acts, viii. 39.

He went on his way rcjoiving.

J. HAT Providence is ever busy in promoting the
felicity of his creatures, is a srand and joyous truth.
The contemplation of it, as it is discoverrd in the
works of nature, pleases and consoles the mind. We
behold it with wonder and instruction, in the history
of elapsed time, and in the occurrences of life. The
little tales which elucidate it catch the attention ; and
when their heroes are renowned, or their events sreat,
they equally amuse and improve. The sacred Scrip-
tures, all w ritten for our benefit, abound with valuable
information clothed in this kind of garb ; and some of

CIIARACTEn OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 221

the best instructions concerning the duties, and the
government of life, are to be collected frora their his-
toric records, of extraordinary persons and events.
One, most abounding with moral suggestions, most
evincive of the divine providence and goodness, and
most meet to be remembered and improved, is thaf;
concerning the blessed mortal of whom it is said, " He
went on his way rejoicing." Such an emphatic attri-
bution of happiness to a pilgrim in this vale of misery,
cannot but excite our curiosity, concerning the person
of wiiom it is asserted. Both social and self-love
must feel inquisitive about the source of his superior
fortune; and no humane bosom can be uninterested in
a story, whose close exhibits a fellow mortal in the
tranquil fruition of rational felicity.

It will be best, in order that we may profitably pe-
ruse the sacred narrative,

To know, in the first place, the character of this
favourite of heaven ;

Secondly, to examine the nature of his joy;

And, thirdly, to ascertain the way in which he ac-
quired such enviable satisfaction.

The Scriptures give us to understand that, the hero
of this tale was a man of Ethioi)ia, an eunuch of great
authority under Candace, queen of the Ethiopians,
who had the charge of all her treasures. It is most
probable, that this Candace, was a queen of the ancient
Island Meroe, appendant to the vast territory of Ethio-
pia, and famous, in Pliny, for female sovereigns bearing
the name of the princess here mentioned. The
Eunuch ai)pcars to have been high in her favour, and
to have possessed her full confidence. It is probable,
from the customs of the country, and from the circum-
stances of the story, that he was a prime officer of her
kingdom. It is evident, also, that he was one of
those whom the Jews denominated proselytes of jus-
tice, because they were converted from Paganism to
the Jewish faith. He might have been proselyted at

222 CHARACTER OF THE tTHlUflA.N EUML'CH.

the period, wlien so many Jews were spread through
this distapt country, from Alexandria. Be this as it
may, he was evidently a believer in the Jewish reli-
gion, tor he " had come to Jerusalem to worship." If
greatness, therefore, can interest, or goodness aft'ect,
the character of this Ethiopian entitles him to atten-
tion. He was a man of hi^h station, and of extensive
influence; and was returning from Jerusalem, whither
he had resorted to discharge the sacred duties of devo-
tion. We fmd him returning home, with a mind sur-
charged with newly acquired bliss; and are here led

To examine, secondly, the nature of his joy. What
has this eunuch found, since he left the i)laee of his
residence, to render his excursion the most fortimatc
act of his life? With all the smiling placidness of
prosperity, he is on his way home rejoicing. Has he,
in business, found a lucky hour, and, by some kind
occurrence, obtained an aflluence t)f weaUh? J5y his
office, and the style in which he journeyed, he needed
no acquisition of property, aiul by the character of his
joy, it was more permanent than any u hich riches can
afford. Had he received the titles, distinctions and
plaudits of honour, and was he bearing to his ac-
quaintance the insignia of new glory.' He had been
among the Jews who were too selfish, readily to be-
stow their dignities upon strangers, and was going
among a people, who woidd \iew Jewish honours
with derision. Had he found in this strange land a
congenial soul, and was he exulting in the possession
of a friend, to share with him the comforts and the
cares of life? He was sitting in his chariot alone.
But do we know any sources of joy, independent of
all these which have been mentioned? The Ethio-
pian had become a Christian. It was not the treasurer
of Candacc; it was not the proselyte of Judaism, i)Ut
it was the disciple of Jesus, who " went on his way
rejoicing." This was the only change which had
been wrought in his circumstances, since he came frony

CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 223

home. It was tins, which was sufficient to give him
a folicit}', of whicli he did not know himself suscepti-
ble, and to disi)el darkness and disquiet from his mind^
He had, indeed, found a rich treasure. He had re-
ceived an high honour. He liad met with an invalua-
ble friend. But they were not such as the world
denote by those names. The treasure, was the tidings
of the Messiah. The honour, was the initiation by
baptism into the family of Christ. The friend, was
the Redeemer of man. It was the acquisition of
these boons, which gave such i)leasure and satisfaction
to the eunuch's mind, as his station and endowments
had never yet afforded. As a man, he felt the neces-
sity of a Saviour, and was led, by the character of the
Most High, and the predictions of Prophets, to hope
for a deliverer, lint hitherto, he was ignorant of the
counsels of heaven, and i)erplexed by the " shadows of
things that were to come." Now, he had found in
Jesus, *' him of whom Moses and the Prophets did
write; a Saviour of sinners; a Redeemer of the world.
As a free agent, he had some perception of the excel-
lence of virtue, and some sense of moral obligation.
Bur, hitherto, his knowledge of duty was very imper-
fect, mid the unconquerable strength of vice, rendered
him the sport of delusion, or the victim of despair.
Now, his duty was made full evident; he saw the
dominion of sin broken; feeble virtue A\as encouraged
by promises of divine assistance, and he received assu-
rance, that if he did all he could, he should find ac-
ceptance and reward. As an inhabitant of earth, he
tnew the need of some sovereign balm to heal the
wounds, which he could not but receive in a world_,
where evils lay ambushed at every step, and every
rose which delighted was surrounded with thorns.
But, hitherto, no kind remedy had presented, which
would, in all cases, ease, much less effectually heal.
Now, he had found a physician, who could bind up
the wounded heart: cause the bones which were bro^

224 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH.

ken, again to rejoice ; assuage the anguish of bereaved
affection; and bid pale, woe-worn sorrow, look up
and smile. As a creature, he had seen and felt that
he must die ; and his mind had felt anxious to pene-
trate the gloom, which, since the first human exit, had
enveloped death. But, hitherto, a few, faint glimmer-
ings, only, had quivered through the gloom ; as unde-
fined, illusory, and transient, as the gleamings of light-
ning through thick dark clouds. Now, the dismal
mystery is solved; where he feared dissolution, he finds
immortality; the darkness which surrounds the tomb,
appears as harmless and evanescent as the western
clouds, which conceals the reflex glory of the sun,
which, at its appointed time, has set to rise witii re-
newed lustre. These are the effects of Christianity;
effects essential to human tranquillity; effects, which
nothing but Christianiiy can i)r(Hlucc. When the
illustrious Ethiopian became a Christian, he viewed
life in a new light. His most anxious hopes were
confirmed. His most awful fears were quieted. All
the enigmas of his being, were solved, lie found an
antidote to every bane of felicity. " He went on his
way rejoicing." Surely, such a fortunate change in
his situation, was extracudinary ; and we will hasten.

In the third place, to ascertain the means which led
to the acquisition of such enviable satisfaction. In
this season of the year, w as one of the great holy
feasts, which the Almighty had commanded the Jews
to consecrate. As the Ethiopian was a proselyte of
the covenant, he felt it his duty to obey the commands
of the Most High, and, for no other jnirpose, than to
observe the hallowed time, he had come to Jerusalem.
Whataiesson; what a reproof for Christians! Though
not obliged to make tedious pilgrimnires; though each
one's Zion is within his town, how trivial circum-
stances will deter them from religious duties! How
lightly do they regard the Sabbath, and other ordi-
nances, of the JMostHigh! Yet, this Ethiopian re-

CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 225

linquishes the weighty business of office; leaves the
court of his queen, and the company of his friends, and
from Ethiopia, far distant, encountering the most in-
tense rays of the sun, and without prospect of any
other emolument, than the consciousness of having
done his duty, travels " to Jerusalem to worship."
Blush, Christian, blush; who, with all thy advanta-
ges, neglectest the institutes of thy religion ; or, at best,
consecrates but the one iialf of thy Lord's day! Hav-
ing finished his duty to his Maker, the eunuch returns
to discharge his obligations to his fellows. But he has
not forgotten, the imjjregsions which he received in the
sanctuary. His religion \\as not merely a formal
ceremeny, a senseless habit. Behold, us he returns
from Jerusalem, he is " sitting in his chariot and read-
ing the prophecies of Isaiah." Ye, whom fortune has
placed in the elevated stations of life; ye, who, with
the Prophets have their interpretation in the gospel of
Christ, look at this Ethioi)iaH; and, regardless of his
comi)lexion, venerate his worth. He seriously inves-
tigates the volume of truth. As he journeys. Ire car-
ries his Bible. Though in a chariot, he is perusing
the Scrii)tures. An example, which atfectingly satir-
ises many of the professeil disciples of Christ. The
divine Being, ever ready to aid the endeavours of the
humble and sincere, beheld and applauded the eunuch,
jiy special revelation, he commanded Philip to go
towards the country, through which the Ethiopian
would pass. His attention, directed, probably, by the
account he had had of the recent crucifixion of Jesus,
was fixed upon the prophetic description of the suffer-
ings of the Messiah. While he laboured to understand,
the Spirit bade Philip join himself to his chariot; and
he proved to the eunuch, from the passage he was
reading, and the other evidences of Christianity, that
Jesus was the Christ. The eunuch was convinced
and bai)tised ; and Deity vouchsafed a confirmation to
iiis faith, by taking Philip from him in a supefnaturat
^0I.. IK 29

226 CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH.

manner. Thus, by being in the practice of virtue; by
studying the Scriptures, and by possessing a docile
mi.:d, was this worthy man led to see, and embrace,
the truth; and filled with the satisfaction, which
Christianity gives to the mind, " he went on his way
rejoicing." His happiness was not confined to him-
self. Through him, his country was blessed. By his
means, probably, the ancient prediction was accom-
plished, that Ethio[)ia should early stretch out her
hands unto God. The Abyssinians, say travellers and
geographers, to this day, venerate his memory ; and,
at every ministration of baptism, relate, witli pious
gratitude, the conversion of the Eunuch.

Thus, we have attended to all the circumstances ot
this interesting narrative. We learn from the story,
the blessedness of observing the ordinances, which
religion has hallowed; the usefulness of reading, stu-
dying, and investigating without discouragement, the
word of truth, the readiness of the divine providence,
to aid with his Spirit and blessing, the humble and
sincere inquirer, who uses the means which he has
appointed, the peace and joy whicii they have in be-
lieving, who have embraced the Messiah; and the
happiness of the country whose nobles and officers arc
taught of (lod. Let us, then, be instructed by the
treasurer of Candace, amidst the honours, the plea-
sures, and the avocations of life, to be mindful of
religion, hvl not our goodness be confined to the
temi)le, but when we have finished our devotions, let
us study the Scriptures. While we ponder their sa-
cred pages, let our hearts be humble, and our minds
docile, if, haply, the Spirit which blessed the Eunuch,
may open our eyes, and fill us ^^ ith his peace. " Thenj
that are meek, will he guide in judgement; and such
as are gentle, them will he learn his a\ ny."

Christian! Hast thou, too, found in Jesus of Na-
zareth, " him of whom Moses in the law, and the
Prophets did write;" one, "who hath borne thy

CHARACTER OF THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH. 227

griefs, and carried thy sorrows ; and by whose stripes
thou art healed ?" Hast thou hastened in baptism to
join thyself to him, and by this rite, which he ordained,
are thy sins washed away ; and thy interest in the pri-
vileges and hopes of his family assured thee ? Go on
thy " way rejoicing." There may be yet before thee
a long journey. It may be, thou shalt meet with some
trials by the way. But faithful and mighty is He who
hath promised, and is able to perform it. Let thy
hope, then, be strong; thy faith steadfast; thy life
pious and obedient to God, fulfilling all his ordinances
with a willing mind; and thou shalt descend into the
valley of " the shadow of death," " rejoicing with joy
ynspeakable" in God your Redeemer.

SERMON LXVn.

ON THE CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

Acts, x 31

Cornelius^ thy prayer is heard, and thine alms are had
in remembrance in the sight of God.

Ji O know, and survey the characters of men, who
have stood foremost in events which concerned the
whole human race, is gratifying and instructive. The
mind feels a satisfaction in thinking, this was the
leader of the great occurrence; in him, first opened
the interesting scene ; and, if he were renowned for
good qualities, we look, to learn, as well as to admire.
If these be the sentiments of my hearers, they will at
once feel interested in the character introduced in the
text. What event more greatly important, than the

CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 2^

breaking c3own of the partition, which separated one
people to the service and communications of the Most
High; what occurrence more interesting, especially to
us, who were not of God's people, than the admission
of the heathen, to share with the Jew, the richest re-
velation from the eternal mind. Of this great gift, it
was Cornelius who received the deed. First Gentile
proselyte to the gospel, our Abraham in respect to his
call, he stands conspicuous, and claims our notice. His
character, as given in the chapter from which tlie text
is taken, the blessing he received, and the instructions
rising from the subject, in\ite your attention, as calcu-
lated to unfold the essential nature of religion, with
some truths of special practical importance.

To keep the conquered Jews in orderly submission,
there were bands of soldiers stationed in different
parts of Palestine, under the Roman control. As
captain of one of these bands, gathered in Italy, and
eminent in profane history, Cornelius dwelt at Ca'sa-
rea, about seventy miles from Jerusalem. It appears
that, though an heathen, he had, from his intercourse
with the Jews, or in some other wa3', become a wor-
shipper of the Supreme Invisible Jehovah, without
subjecting himself to their rites, or feeling bound by
their laws. The sacred record styles him, " a devout
man;" an expression significant in the Scriptures, of
one who acknowledges the only true God, in distinc-
tion from polythcists and idolaters, and generally ap-
plied to those, who, as adorers of the same Lord,
without being admitted to circumcision and its conse-
quent privileges, are elsewhere styled " proselytes of
^le gate." Convinced of the existence of one only
Almighty Being, he felt holy obligations, and che-
rished the principles, which flow from the relation of
that Being, to man, and the universe.

There are many men ; alas, they form too large a
part of our race ! who, though they believe in no other
God than the Lord, yet forget him; refuse his laws;

230 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

feel not restrained by his government, nor presence, and
neglect those ser^'ices which, if he exist, and they are
intelligent, are their most solemn duty. Such was not
Cornelius. He feared the God, whom he acknow-
ledged with all his house. His belief in the Supreme
Being, was not a mere abstract notion floating in his
head. It entered his he^rt, and planted tliere, a reve-
rence for the divine character; holy emotions; an
ever-living desire to please him. His religion was i^ot
confined to his own breast. His family were kej-t in
habits of devotion, piety, and virtue. They were
made acquainted witli their Maker; they were assem-
bled at the altar when he sacrificed ; they were taught
the rules which he obeyed. Receiving religion as a
celestial guest, he introduced her into the family with
which providence had blest him, and made her a con-
stant resident therein. He "feared God with all his
house."

Various are the forms in which religion was clothed,
before the promulgation of the gospel. Strange, and
incongruous, have her appearances sometimes been,
among Christians. In one, she has been seen a cold,
retiring, spectre, placing her merit in her misery. In
another, a frantic, superstitious being, displaying her
divinity in immolating hu.iian victims, or counting
beads. Here, she has seemed a stupid, senseless form,
prostrate to a stock or stone. There, a fantastic, airy
enthusiast, consecrating whims, or living on reveries.
In some, a profusion of sympathies, and generous
deeds, has been exhibited as her form, while it has
been unanimated by one pious principle, or one spark
of holiness. In others, a i)iety, hallowing hours, ob-
serving seasons, and making many prayers, without a
smile of mercy for the penitent ofiender, or a tear of
compassion for the poor and the wretched. Strange
incongruities! Perversions of religion's name, to
cover constitutional frailties, habits of ignorance,
errors of education, selfishness, and pride. Religion.

CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 231

as she descends undisguised from above, is of plain,
cheerful and lovely, yet holy, firm, and dignified ap-
pearance. Would you see the outlines of her charac-
ter, the prominent features of her native excellence?
They claim your admiration in Cornelius. He " gave
much alms to the people, and prayed to God alway;"
that is, it was his delight and labour, to relieve the
wants of the needy, to sweeten the portion of the
miserable, to diffuse happiness among his fellow men ;
and in public, and iirivate offices of worship to God,
he was regular and frequent. Real benevolence, and
sincere devotion, ever go hand in hand. When each
grows out of the other, and both proceed from a re-
gard to the divine will, they form the sum and sub-
stance of religion. A man may " give all his goods
to feed the poor ;" he may mark, each minute of the
day, with some act of liberality; and yet, if he be
destitute of affection and piety towards his Maker, it
wants that principle, which gives benevolence its
worth ; it will be a hollow virtue, " a sounding brass,
or tinkling cymbal." On the other hand, though a
man rigidly observe all holy times; though he talk
much of God, and do no act, unsanctified with a
prayer, if he be destitute of regard for the happines5
of his race; if he "shut up his bowels of compas-
sion;" if the wishes and exertions of mercy and kind-
ness, have no cultivation in his bosom, his worship is
an imperfect service, unsatisfactory to the God of love.
(Jenevolcnce and devotion, charity and piety, united,
as they eminently were in Cornelius, discover the
man who rightly fearcth God ; and form the properly
religious character.

►'^ In scenes of temptation, on lofty sites, or where we
look for vice, virtue has a more glorious, because a
more extraordinary appearance. The star which
breaks through the misty atmosphere, when all its fel*
lows have withdrawn their light, discovers, more
strikingly, the gloomine^ss of the scene, but is, itself,

232 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

marked for its superiority. A good cliaracter, in a
corrupt circle, attracts the admiration of a melancholy
attention. The piety and virtue of Cornelius, are the
more pleasing, because of his station and office. A
soldier, born to the ambition and pride of a Roman ;
high in i)ower above his fellows; surrounded by the
allurements of the wealthy Ca'sarea, amidst a i)eople
strange, conquered, and resentful, he yet is humble,
devout, and charitable. How many would have
excused their piety with their office; how many their
charity, because the objects of it were hate fid Jews.
But, moved by none of these things, and correcting
that vanily, which assumes true goodness exclusively
to its own class, or thinks there arc stations in which
piety and benevolence never exist, we find " Corne-
lius, a centurion of the band, called the Italian band, a
devout man, and one that feared (Jod with all his
Iiouse, who gave much alms to the pco|)le, and prayed
to God always." Such a character can never fail of
love and respect. AVe are not surprised to liear his
domestics giving to the Apostle, the unilattering, cor-
dial testimony to his worth; that he was "just," and
"of good report among all (he nation of the Jews;"
so exemplariiy religiuiis, in iiimsclf and his family, in
a station so unaccommodated to \irlue, ^^e sjiould
naturally expect he would be an object of the special
favour of the Being, who views his creatures with one
common eye, and promises to honour them who hon-
our him.

If we proceed to the blessing Cornelius received,
we shall find it was conspicuoii>ly the case. The
divine Being, created man for felicity. By his fall, he
made himself obnoxious to instant destruction. Christ
intervened, and he lived. Early lie bci^an in the
hearts of some, the great and benevolent work, of
building up our ruined natu/e, into a pristine resem-
blance to the divine likeness. To eflect this restora-
tion in (ho soul of every m;ui.. was his mighty pur-

CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 233

pose ; and, " in every nation, he who feared God, and
wrought righteousness, did it bv his unknown Spirit,
and was through him accepted with the Father. In
Cornelius, we discover extraordinary attainments.
Benevolence and piety, the sum of the Saviour's prac-
tice and preaching, were large and thrifty in his bo-
som. They grew under the industrious use of the
means he had in his power, and the riches of the
divine Spirit rewarding his endeavours. He needed
but to know Christ to believe in him, as the Author
of all the progress he had mad€ in goodness, and of
all the hopes he could indulge. He wanted but this
belief, to be the Christian in name and deed.

To those, in whom Christ has, by his Spirit, dwelt
their invisible friend, he will, if he have been wel-
comed, in some way and time, be visibly manifested.
The gospel had been preached throughout Judea.
As was predicted, the Messiah had " come to his pwn,
and they received him not." It was, however, though
preached first to them, a revelation for the whole humaa
race. Now it was to be promulged to the Gentiles.
They were to be admitted to a full, and equal fruition
with the Jews, of the communications from the Eter-
nal; and Cornelius was destined to be the first, who
should realize this great behest.

Accordingly, at a time, when, with holy exercises,
he had disciplined his mind, and in humble prayer
sought the divine blessing, he was instructed by an
angel, sent to him from heaven, with the joyful assur-
ance in my text, to send for Peter, the great Apostle
of the Jews, and learn of him the will of the Most
High. He was not disobedient to the heavenly vision.
Peter, in the mean time, had the scruples of the Jew
removed, and his heart prepared to comply with the
Centurion's request, by an extraordinary revelation,
that in the gospel overtures, all nations under heaven
were included, and that he should, henceforth, call no
man common nor unclean. The messengers arrived:

vor.. ir. '^0

234 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

tlie Apostle went with them, and was welcomed by
the Centurion and his friends. The foundation of the
Apostle's work was already laid, in the Centurion's
strong belief, and reverence for God; and his humble,
anxious desire, to learn how he might be saved. St.
Peter, therefore, opened to him the character of Jesus
Christ. He dwelt upon the miracles he had wrought,
in evidence of his authority. He related and explained
his crucifixion. He declared, and attested himself, the
mighty resurrection. He preached the consequent
consolatory doctrines of immortality, and future glory.
And he lastly, led his hearers to the revered Prophets;
showed that they all pointed to Christ; that in him,
all their wonderful predictions were singularly verified,
and that they unite their testimony with his own, that
" through his name, whosoever belicveth on him, shall
receive remission of sins." Standing in the presence
of God, and listening to the ministry of his word, ^^ith
meekness and fear, the mind of Cornelius was iilled
with that wisdom which is from above, and he cm-
Inaced, with full satisfaction, the " truth as it is in
Jesus." The Holy Spirit confirmed their faith, and
ratified this adoi)tion of the Gentiles. The Centurion
and his family, were, by baptism, incorporated into the
Church, and made heirs of all the hopes and pro-
mises, of the blessed gospel.

Would we estimate the honour of this acquisition r
Consider iiim and his family, as selected by the Eter-
nal, to be the first fruits to him of the Gentile world.
What, though St. Peter was called to account, for his
neglect of Levitical rules ! Cornelius was a seal of his
ministry, more valuable than fame or ease; and to the
Cejiturion, how ample the blessing, that he should be
the first heathen object of gospel favour. AVould we
estimate the worth of the acquisition ? Behold him
but imperfectly acquainted with his God. Conscious
of his sinfulness, he fasted. Dissatisfied with the
sacrifices of the Jews, and their legal i)urgation; con-

CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 235

sidering man as an enigma, and perplexed by those
doubts in which, to the best of heathens, the human
destination was involved ; he felt that something was
yet wanting to his happiness. He prayed; and God
vouchsafed to send his Minister, to declare to him the
glad tidings of salvation, through the blood of the
cross. He believed, and was happy.

We here see the reward from " Him who seeth in
secret," upon the prayer and the alms of faith and
love. Doubtless, the devotion of the Centurion
sought not observation. His deeds of benevolence
were often done silently and tenderly, uncovetous of
of fame. They all, however, rose as an offering to
heaven, and, received by the Angel, were presented to
the Almighty with the prayers of the Saints. They
fitted him for the blessing which they brought down
upon him; a blessing, whose value we have already
observed. For every Christian, uniting benevolence
and devotion in his character, and wearing them hum-
bly through life, an equal reward is prepared. If it
come not immediately, it is nevertheless sure. Not a
sincere petition is oflfered to heaven unheard; not an
act, not an intention of charity is unnoticed by him,
who enters the conduct of his creatures in his Book.
If they return not with a blessing, they remain with a
double blessing in reserve. They found a treasure for
lis in the land, where we are destined to dwell. It
shall give us happiness in the moment of death that,
hidden with Christ, we have this treasure there.
Many, I am sure, are hearing me, who scarcely tell
themselves the alms they do; many who always seek
in intercourse with the Most High, to honour and
serve him. Perhaps, to some of them, their deeds of
faith and charity, have not returned yet with the ex-
pected blessing. They shall find them after many
days. Look at the Centurion, and be assured that ye
shall be recompensed. The Angel of the Scriptures
says, with as much certainty as to Cornelius, " Thy

"236 CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS.

prayer is heard, and thine alms are had in remembrance
before God."

Again. From what has been said, we may remark
the excellence of family religion, and how surely it
obtains the smiles of heaven. In the family where
the Deity is reverenced; religion admitted in every
scene; and virtue welcomed as the worthiest attend-
ant; the natural fruits are order, peace, and love. He
who, like Cornelius in his domestic circle, cherishes
each sacred precept; raises each member to a know-
ledge and delight in the Invisible Protector; teaches
the younger their duty, and walks witii tl»e elder in
the paths of wisdom; lays a sure foundation for feli-
city. Whatever be the external condition of the fami-
ly, in which the princijjles of reli::ion, the graces of
benevolence and piety, are bit and cherished, whe-
ther the winds of adversity hou 1 around their dwel-
ling, or the sunbeams of prosperity shine constantly
upon it, there is, within, an household Deity, who
preserves order, and speaks peace. But if it were not
the natural tendency of domestic religion, to produce
domestic regularity and joy, it brings upon the family
in which it is eminent, the kindest regards of the Most
High. AVhat obtained for Abraham those glorious
privileges, as were, at once, his honour and his inte-
rest? "I know him," says the Almighty, "that he
will command his children, and his household, after
him, that they keep the way of the Lord.*' What
was the prominent excellence in Cornelius? He
*' feared God alway, with all his house." He who is
'■' the Giver of every gift," seems to observe with si)e-
cial pleasure, the exertions of heads of families to ren-
<ler their posterity humble and benevolent, moral and
devout. And yet, I am |)rcacliing an old fashioned
truth. But let me ask, is not the neglect of these
things, inconsistent in Americans? To what have
they traced die worth of their Hero and friend, when

CHARACTER OF CORNELIUS. 237

they could behold him no more ? To his habits of
virtue; to his regard for sacred things; to his domestic
devotions; to his fearing God. Surely, then, I touch
no insensible string, when I urge the importance of
educating each generation as it rises, and guiding all
who are under our management, in the principles and
habits of benevolence and devotion. Let philosophy
argue, and licentiousness scoff, as they will. He will
not fail of respectability, usefulness and satisfaction,
who " feareth God with all his house;" and such a
family is fitly compared with Sion, because there, the
Lord promised his blessing.

And, finally, we shall infer from what has been
said, the wisdom of using all the ordinary, and ap-
pointed means of improving our nature, and becoming
*' wise unto salvation." Jiow many men are there,
who are ready to say ; If Deity has promulged a gos-
pel for my benefit, why does he not bring me to believe
it? How many, who doubt not the truth of Christi-
anity, neglect its sacraments, saying to themselves;
Can the sprinkling with water, or the eating of bread,
be essential to my salvation? Had Cornelius rea-
soned thus, he might have come short of his blessing.
An Angel appeared to him, and directed him to send
for Simon, to Joppa. Persons of the above charac-
ter would, in this case, have reasoned; Cannot the
Angel tell me, without further trouble, what I ought
to do? Need I, when he can visit me, send forty
miles for a fellow mortal to instruct me? Surely,
the Apostle is not greater than the Angel. It is an
unnecessary requirement. But the Saviour had hal-
lowed a Ministry in his Church. The Most High,
without necessity, suspends not his established rules.
It is the duty of men to observe his appointment.
Cornelius, with infinite benefit, disdained not to
obey the divine mandate; and permit his example
and blessedness, to act as an inducement to every

238 CHARACTER OF CORNELILS.

one to reverence each office, each ordinance, and
every institution whicli our Lord has appointed, as the
proper means of improving our virtues, and obtaining
the blessed hope of everlasting life.

SERMON LXVni-

DELIVERED AT THE CONSECRATION OF
TRINITY CHURCH, COLUMBIA.

I Kings, viii. 66.

On the eighth day, he sent the people away. And they
blessed the king, and ivent unto their tents joyful and
glad of heart, for all the goodness that the Lord had
done for David his servant, and for Israel his people.

Jl HESE words conclude the account of one of the
sublimest, and most interestuig occurrences, recorded
in the sacred volume. A magnificent temple had been
built to Jehovah. There were assembled to its dedi-
cation, " the elders of Israel, and all the heads of the
tribes; the chief of the fathers of the children of
Israel." An innumerable company of 'Priests and
Levites: "a great congregation, from the entering in

2^ CONSECRATION SERMON.

of Hamatli to the river of Egypt." While the prepa-
rations were making, " King Solomon was there, with
all the congregation of Israel, sacrificing sheep and
oxen that could not be told, nor numbered, for multi-
twle." When the Ark of the Covenant of the Lord
had been brought in unto his place, and the house was
passing into the possession of Almighty God, to whom
it was built, the king, upon his knees, ofi'ered a prayer
of dedication, scarcely inferior to the temple in its sub-
limity; nor to the ark, before which it was offered, in
its holiness. It has been read to you, in one of the
Lessons appointed for this occasion. And who that
heard it, do not believe that the Spirit which fdled the
House, filled, also, the heart of him who devoted it to
the Most High. To the consecration of this temple,
succeeded several days of festive pleasure, and social
joy. And " on the eighth day, he sent the people
away, and they blessed the king, and went unto their
tents joyful and glad of heart, for all the goodness that
the Lord had done for David his servant, and for
Israel his i)eople."

We may see here, in this t(>m|)lc, a type of every
Christian Church; and in David, a type of Jesus our
Lord ; and in Israel, a type of the people of the Re-
deemer. The blessings which tiie congregation be-
stowed on the king, by whom the teuii)le had been
built, teach us the obligations which any people are
under to those, who accom[)lish the erection for them,
of places of public worship. And the emotions of the
hearts of all Israel, on this occasion, describe the de-
light which is this day felt, by many of my hearers:
and which should ahvay be felt, when a temple is
built and consecrated, for the worship of God.

But why should the erection of Churches, and
consecration of them to the service of the Most High.
be an occasion of such extraordinary joyfniness and
gladness of heart? This is the subject of our discourse.
And we shall find sufficient reasons for joy and glad-

CONSECRATION SERMON. 241

ness, on such occasions, if we consider them with
respect to Ahnighty God, to whom the buildings are
devoted, to the country in which they are reared, or to
the people, who shall enjoy the blessings and benefits
which may be found in them, and they are erected to
secure.

In the first place, with respect to God. When
Churckes are erected for his worship, it is a joyful
thing that He, in whose glory every intelligent being
should feel interested, is becomingly honoured. " God,
who made" the heavens, " dwelleth not in temples
made with hands; neither is worshipped with men's
liands, as though he needed any thing, seeing He giv-
cth to all life, and breath, and all things." Neverthe-
less, he is pleased to consider himself honoured by the
devotions of his creatures; and these devotions are, to
themselves and the world, a proper memorial of his
excellence, and declaration of his praise.

Man's dispositions towards his Maker, to be ex-
pressed in a manner correspondent to his nature, must
be expressed by sensible acts. No acts of his, in his
social character, are more significant of reverence,
homage, and adoration to the Almighty, than the de-
votion to him of i)laces of worship, great and magaifi-
cent, according to the means with which he hath
blessed them. Without his temple, God is forgotten.
The appropriation of part of their wealth by men, to
build him an house for his service, speaks a reverent
remembrance of his name, and a laudable desire to
make his praise glorious.

How suitable an homage to the Deity this is, may
appear from the care of mankind, in every country,
and in every age, to honour their gods with places for
their names, and memorials of their supjiosed pre-
sence, and greatness. Where, among the heathens, is
the god, who had not his image, his altar, or his tem-
ple ? It was a grief to David, that while he, himself,
'' dwelt in an house of cedar, the Ark of God re^

vol.. jr. 31

242 Consecration sermon.

mained within curtains." Before any command re-
quired it, nature taught men to consecrate places to
the worship of the Most High. Noah, wlien he went
out of the ark, " buih an altar." Wherever the Patri-
archs in their journeyings pitched their tents, they
erected places for divine worship. And Moses, before
the Ark was made, and tlie residence for it, " accord-
ing to the pattern showed him in the mount," pitched
a tabernacle without the canij), in honour of Jehovah,
to wiiich every one that sought the Lord, was to go.

How acce|)table this homage is to God, we may
learn from his own lips and conduct. Even on the
pur|)osc of David to build him a ten)ple, he bestowed
his a|)probation. " Whereas," said the Ili^h and
Mighty One, who inhabiteth Eternity, " whereas it
was in thine heart to build a house to my name, thou
didbt well that it was in thine heart." Moses ho
instructed how to make the tal)ernaclo. He blessed
and rewarded Solomon, when the temple he had
buildcd was fmished. In the houses of his worship,
he condescended to " place his name." ^Vhen th»
tabernacle and temple were devoted to him, he filled
them with his presence in his glorious cloud; and in
his fixed and terrible glory, vouchsafed to dwell there
upon the mercy-seat.

Surely, every new instance of such acceptable, and
expressive homage to their Creator and Redeemer,
must be gratifying to his intelligent olVspring. Were
a statue and monument creeled to the honour of
the father who begat, and sustained you ; of the
sovereign of your country, or of the friend, who had
blessed you with his counsel and his love, would
you not behold it with delight, and speak of it with
joy? How much rather, when there is raised on
earth, a temple to the glory and service of your Father
in heaven, the Sovereign of the universe, the best
Benefactor, and most afifectionate Friend ! The world
presents much to dishonour and pain him. It is a
reUcf: it is a felicity to know that, amidst the confii-

CONSECRATION SERMON. 243

sions, follies, and pollutions of the earth ; while man is
destroying man; and war's ruthless hand, is desolating
the fabrics of art ; and in the whirl of outrage and
vice, God is forgotten; Piety, holiest and happiest in-
habitant of the earth, is, in some places, employed in
raising mansions for the celebration of God's glory,
and the abode of the Ark of the Covenant of peace.
Turn, oh! turn thy face. Holy and Almighty Being,
from the temples of idolatry, and abodes of pollution
which are on our globe! Turn, oh! turn thy face
from the atheism, the ingratitude, and strifes of men,
and condescend to beholil t])e buildings which thy
children do humbly rear, that in them, they may wor-
ship Thee, and learn to " love one another."

But, we are to considiT places of worship with
respect to the country in which they are erected; and,
in this view, the erection of them is a cause for joy
and gladness of heart. lie who loves his country,
would have it adorned with what is beautiful in art,
and excellent in ciiaractcr. It is the happiest apj)lica-
tion of art, to furnish fit temples for the worship of
the Almighty. Such temides, beautify the regions in
which they stand. " How goodly are thy tents, O
Jacob, and thy tabernacles, O, Israel!" Pleasant arc
they to the eye, " as gardens by a river's side, as trees
of lign aloes which the Lord hath planted." Who,
indeed, would have his i)osterity search in vain
among the buildings of their ancestors, for houses in
which religion was honoured, and her peaceful influ*
ences enjoyed ! Who, if the traveller shall one day
come to survey the ruins in his country, which cala-
mity or time may produce, would not have his atten-
tion arrested ])y vestiges of temples, which should
show that the inhabitants loved what was great, and
public, and worshiiiped God!

Especially, if it be further considennl, that the ap-
pearance of such edifices indicates civilization, and
suggest many pleasing associations, and agreeable

244 CONSECRATION SERMON.

hopes. They are monuments in a country, tliat piety
is, or has been, reverenced there. They tell us, that
the people have the means of Christian improvement,
and the transporting prospects which Christianity
opens. Hence, the satisfaction with which the stran-
ger speaks of them, and the elevated emotions with
which we behold them. The eye wearied with con-
templating tiie habitations and desolations, which
remind us only of eartli and misery, rest relieved and
brightening with joy upon the fane, which intimates
that there is piety on the earth; and on the si)ire,
which points to heaven. Naked is that coimtry, des-
titute of tile best monuments of wisdom and improve-
ment, in which Churches, of suitable magnificence,
do hot abound.

In this view of the subject, joy in the erection of
them, may well spring from the ho\)c, that they may
bring blessings upon the land, in \\ iiich they arc con-
secrated and endowed. " For tliy temple's sake at
.Jerusalem," was a plea of great avail uith the Most
High. Upon Zion, the hill where his temple stood,
Cod promised his blessing. When the Jews sent an
embassy to Jesus Christ, in behalf of the afllicfed
Centurion, this was their commendation of him; *' he
loveth our country, and hath built us a synagogue."
From the anxiety of the tribes of lleuben and Cad,
and the half tribe of Manasseh, to build an altar on
this side Jordan, and the remonstrances then used
with them, by the other tribes, it woiilil ai)i)car, that,
in those days, the country was considered unhallowed,
and unprotected, in which no temple, or holy place,
was found. In every place, where the memorial of His
\ame should be recorded, the Almighty promised to
meet his people with his blessing. " Co up to the
mountain," said he, in the time when no temple was
found in his land, " go up to the mountain and briuij
wood, and build the house; and I will take pleasure in
it, and I will be glorified. Ye looked for much, and

CONSECRATION SERMON. 245

lo, it came to little ; and when ye brouslit it home, I
did blow upon it. Why? saith the Lord of Hosts.
Because of mine house that is waste, and ye run
every man to his own house. Therefore, the heaven
over you is stayed from dew, and the earth is stayed
from her fruit. And I called for a drought upon the
land, and upon the mountains, and upon the corn, and
upon the new wine, and upon the oil, and upon that
which the ground bringeth forth, and upon men, and
upon cattle, ami upon all the labour of the hands."
Intimating, that a cause of public calamities was the
neglect to pro\ iiie pl;ices for public worship, in the
land; and tliat the erection, and right use of them,
were means of obtaining divine favour. This im-
portant, though unheeded truth, is consonant with the
dictates of reason. " Except the Lord keep the city,
the watchman waketh but in vain." But how shall he
be expected to keep that city, in which he hath no
dwellijig i)lace ? On what ground shall the people look
for his presence and blessing, who refuse to provide
for him a House, that he may " place his name there?"
Dost thou love thy country ? Rejoice in the erection
of every new Church in her land. When the destroy-
ing Angel shall pass over her, these buildings may be
pleasant to the eyes of God, and there may arise from
them, the prayers and praises, which may avert hi^
wrath, and obtain for her forgiveness and favour.

But, we approach here, the third view we are to
take of new Churches, viz: with respect to the peo-
ple, who shall enjoy in them the blessings and benefits
which they are erected to secure. And here, what a
crowd of thoughts rush upon the mind. Who can
estimate the pleasures and advantages of access to the
house of God? Who can sum up the blessings and
benefits of the sanctuary ?

It is in the house of God, that the pleasures of
social worship are most higlijy and extensively en-
joyed. And if there be any thing which will give

246 CONSECRATION SERMON.

holiness and elevation to human desires; any thing
which will soften the asperities of social intercourse,
and improve the manners and character of men, it is
to meet together, at stated times, in tlie house of their
common Parent, to recognize their relations to him,
and each other, and to seek the influence of his in-
structions and grace, for the attainment together of
eternal life.

It is in the house of God, that communion with the
Father of our spirits is most purely and intimately
enjoyed. He is with us in our closets. He is every
where present. But, in his temple he delights to
dwell. It is here, he is present in an especial manner;
probably, with the retinue of his Angels, as tlie deco-
rations of his ancient tabernacle aud temple intimated,
and as the declarations of his word, and the opinions
of the primitive Church, warrant us to suppose; and
retired from the noise and infatuations of the world,
the devout soul under the influence of the holiness of
the place, becomes more still, more sensible of his
presence, and draws nearer to her Ciod. If but " two
or three be there in his name, he is there in the midst
of them."

It is in the house of God, that the word of his truth
will be most surely preached, and most attentively
heard; that word, \\hich he sent the Son of his bosom
to proclaim to a ruined world; that word, which is
glad tidings of great joy to all people; and "deliver-
ance to the captives," and recovery of " sight to the
blind." That word, which sets at liberty them which
were bruised. That word, which causes " the lame
man to leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb to
sing." That word, which is our comfort in trouble,
which is as a '' light to our feet, and a lamp to our
paths," which bringcth salvation, and showeth us
heaven. " How beautiful upon the mountains are the
feet of them that bring glad tidings, that publish
peace." If it were only to be entertained by them.

CONSECRATION SERMON. 247

with disquisitions upon the most important topics, it
were no little gratification. But this is a small part
of their business. It is their office, to bring you to an
acquaintance with God, and with his will concerning
you, as he hath revealed it in his word. It is their
office, to raise before you the cross, and show you
" the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the
world," expiring upon it; and to take of its blood,
and sprinkle it upon all your garments, that when the
destroying angel, shall execute the vengeance of the
Almighty upon a guilty world, it may be to yon, the
token for preservation. It is their office, to go before
you into the tomb, with the bright torch which revela-
tion furnishes, to disperse the blackness of darkness
which hangs over its entrance ; to show you " the
place where Jesus lay ;" to wipe the tears which are
falling upon the mouldering relics, and, when the
blood is curdling at the heart, amidst the horrors of
the scene, to restore to it, its equal, peaceful flow, with
the transporting assurance, that this awful dominion,
with its awful king, shall one day be destroyed for
ever. It is their office, to show you hell and all its
terrors, and teach you to escape ; to show you heaven
and all its joys, and entreat you to enter.- These are
subjects, which the Ministers of the word, have in
charge in the sanctuary. Where there are churches,
it is reasonable to expect this ministry will be enjoyed.
Who can estimate its fruits? How many "broken
hearts may be bound up;" how many "mourners
comforted ;" how many sinners may be turned " from
the error of their ways, to the wisdom of the just;"
how many immortal beings snatched from perdition
to the enjoyment of eternal life and bliss in heaven?

In the House of God, moreover, are found his holy
sacraments. By the temple are placed the waters of
Baptism, and in it the Supper of peace. To the Font,
men come, and are washed from sin and uncleanness;
to the altar, they go, and feast upon the memorials of

248 CONSECRATION SERMON.

redemption, the tokens of forgiveness and immortality.
Look at the laver of regeneration ; you may see in it
the " beauty which is given" to sinners, " for ashes."
Behold, the flagons of the sacred table. They con-
tain " the oil of joy for mourning." In the righteous-
ness of the Redeemer, which these sacraments hold
forth, are found " the garments of praise," wiiich our
compassionate Father hath provided " for the spirit of
heaviness."

These aro the blessings which the peoi)le enjoy,
who have access to the temples of God. Contrast
their happiness with the condition of the people, who
have no place of i)ul)lic worship. For them, no
sanctuary is near, to whicii tiiey may betake themselves
from their sorrows, their fears, and their spiritual ene-
mies, to the more especial protection of Almighty
God. From them, there rises no sacrifice of social
prayer and praise, the sweetest human oflering, to
their common Parent in heaven. They are not clean-
sed with the washing of water, and the word. They
never do that, which he who died for them, hath com-
manded to be done " in remembrance of him." Per-
haps, the sound of his name reaches not their ears;
the peaceful influences of his word and Spirit, are
unknown to their hearts. They live without the plea-
sant feasts of the Church. Even " Sunday shines no
Sabbath day to them." You may find tliem on the
bed of sickness, without hope; and witliout Ciod, on
the confines of eternity. Awful state of existence!
Deplorable condition of intelligent and moral, dying
and accountable beings! " Oh, how amiable are thy
tabernacles, O, Lord of Hosts, my King and my God!
Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, they will be
alway praising thee. I had rather be a door-keeper in
the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of
ungodliness. A day in thy courts is better than a
thousand."

CONSECRATION SERMON. 249

Let, then, be pondered in the city in which a new
Church is built, the pleasures and benefits, the peace
and joy in this life, and the salvation in the life to
come, to which they, who shall worship in it, may
attain; and, as it was in Samaria, at the first preach-
ing of the gospel, there will be " great joy in that
city."

These sentiments, my brethren, are in harmony
with the feelings of many of you. You have looked
forward to this day, with anticipations of new and
lively pleasure; and a more joyful event has not, per-
haps, occurred in the years of your life, than the con-
secration of your Church, which, for yourselves and
your posterity, you have built unto the name of the
Lord your God. We participate in your felicity. It
is with great satisfaction we behold your Church,
decent, and convenient, and bearing the name of the
Blessed Trinity, in whom is worshipped the One
Only Living and True God. Blessing, and praise,
are due, in no small degree, to the individuals,
through whose exertions and perseverance, the build-
ing of this temple has been so happily accomplished.
" Remember them, O, my God, concerning this; and
wipe not out the good deeds which they have done
for the house of their God, and for the offices there-
of!"

The congregation who will assemble in this place
to worship, have our cordial congratulations on the
accomplishment of their wishes. You have now a
Church, in which, we trust, " God's true and lively
word will be set forth, and his sacraments rightly
and duly administered." How much is opened to
you in this prospect! "Alien from the commonwealth
of Israel," stranger to the covenant of promise, here
you may come, and hear of God and Christ, and re-
ceive the seals of " an inheritance among them that
are sanctified," through faith that is in Jesus. Awa*
kened sinner, whose bosom heaves with sorrow, and

vor. ir. rV2

260 CONSECRATION SERMON.

whose eye is consumed with fear, hither you may
come, and learn of pardon, grace, and salvation, and
hear from your Redeemer, when you have cast your-
self at his feet, " Thy sins are forgiven thee; go in
peace." Pious mother; here you may find a place
" where you may lay your young, even the Altar of
the Lord of Hosts, your King and your God;" and
he will cover them there with his wing, as his own
children by adoption, that the destruction which com-
eth upon the ungodly, louch them not. Youthful
Christian; who desircst to be recognized by your
heavenly Father, and pantest to enter upon the Chris-
tian career, here, in Confirmation, you may ratify and
confirm your baptismal vows, and receive his grace
and heavenly benediction; the assurance of his favour
and goodness towards you. Faithful disciple of the
Lord Jesus; who desirest a nearer approacli to him,
*' whom, not having seen, you love;" who wouldcst
receive the token of his favour, in whom, " though
now you see him not, yet believing, you rejoice with
joy unspeakable and full of glory," here, at his holy
table, you will eat of liis bread, and drink of the cup
which he hath mingled ; you will lean on his bosom
and sup with him, and he with you. Bereaved mour-
ner; from whom deatli shall tear the object of conjugal,
filial, or parental afl'ection, here you may come and
bring your dead; and over their remains be^reminded
of Him, " who is the resurrection and the life," and
learn, that your dead "' shall rise again," and put on
immortality. Children of sorrow; over whose day
of life adversity has spread a thick, and chilling cloud;
here, you may come; and some rays of light will
break through the cloud, attracting your attention to
the heaven, from which they proceed ; and you will
hope for better joys in the skies beyond, where there
is eternal sunshine, and celestial day. How thankful,
my Christian friends, should you be to the Almighty,
for his goodness in giving you a temple, which wiU

CONSECRATION SERMON. ^251

offer to you, such truths and prospects; such occupa-
tions and pleasures; such consolations and joys. Oh!
reverence, then, this sanctuary. Love to be in it, and
to join in its services. Keep it in its holiness and
beauty, and teach your children to reverence it.
Leave, at its door, when you come to it, whatever
may defile it. Henceforth, let nothing be heard in it,
but the instructions of religion, and the language of
prayer and praise ; let nothing be felt in it, but the
emotions of penitence, the resolutions of faith, the
joys of hope, and the desires and determinations of
Charity. It is now consecrated to the Most High;
and may it be to you, and to your children after you,
for many generations, " none other than the House of
God, and the gate of heaven."

And now, " Arise, O Lord, into thy resting place;
thou, and the ark of thy strength. Let thy Priests"
here '-be clothed with righteousness; and thy saints
sing witli joyfulness." " But will God, indeed, dwell
on the earth? Behold, the heaven, and heaven of
heavens, cannot contain thee; how much less this
house which 'thy people have builded! Yet, have
thou respect unto the prayers of thy servants, and to
their su[)plications, which thy servants make before
thee this day : That thine eyes may be open towards
this house night and day; that thou mayest hearken
unto the prayers which thy servants shall make to-
wards this place, and maintain the cause of thy people
at all times, as the matter shall require." Let it be
a house of the Lord our God in this place, because of
which, for the purity of its faith, the perfection of its
charity, and the holiness of its worship, all people
shall seek to do it good.

SERMON LXIX.

DELIVERED ON THE FEAST OF THE EPIPHANY 1813; BEING
THE THIRD ANMVERSARY OF THE • PROTESTANT i:i'I:^COFAL
SOCIETY FOR THE ADV.\^CEiMEANT OF CH1US1U.MTY O
SOUTH-CAROLINA,"

Matthew, ii. 11.

And when they had opened their treasitres, they pre-
sented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and
myrrh.

tjHARITABLE institutions are amonc; the peculiar,
and most excellent fruits, of the promulgation of
Christianity. To associate themselves for the instruc-
tion of the ignorant, and relief of the wretched; to
combine their efforts, in well ordered societies, for the
promotion of virtue and happiness among mankind, is

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETT/ 25S

a lesson, which human beings have learned to prac-
tisf^ chiefly, under the influence of the gospel of the
Redeemer. The Infirmary and the Hospital, the
Orphan- House and the Dispensary, the School which
en)braces the children of poverty, and the Society
which brings men to the knowledge of God, and prac-
tice of virtue, belong exclusively to the Christian era.
While this operation of our holy religion, may well
lead us to admire the benignity of its character, and
points out to us the affinity of its spirit to the Spirit of
the Father of all mercies, it is productive of incalcu-
lable good in our dark and afflicted world. By insti-
tutions, to which the Spirit of the gospel has given
birth, more is done in Christendom, in a single day,
towards instructing the ignorant, relieving the misera-
ble, reclaiming the vicious, and diff'using the know-
ledge of virtue and immortality, than was done in
years, yea, I may say, in centuries, in the regions of
heathenism.

I am to address you at this time, my respected
hearers, in behalf of a Society, which has had its
origin under the influence of this religion, and has for
its aim, the diff'usion of its principles and joys. On
this occasion, I think myself happy, that 1 am to ad-
dress a community distinguished for its liberality, in
promoting all benevolent purposes; and I do the more
cheerfully engage in this duty, on this day of the Epi-
phany, when the Church leads us to commemorate the
removal of the partition which separated " a peculiar
people" under the favours of the Almighty, from the
rest of mankind; and the consequent extension of the
revelations, and covenanted mercies of Jehovah, to
all the nations of the earth. For who can contem-
plate the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles, and
all that is implied in it, without being penetrated with
gratitude for this unspeakable mercy, and filled with a
desire to have all men partakers of this great salvation.

254 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY.

As the Society, for which I speak, is new among
you, it will be my duty, in the first place, to make you
acquainted with its objects, and the measures by which
it hopes to accomplish them.

And you will allow me, in the second place, to
bring to your view some of the motives which recom-
mend it to your patronage, and liberal assistance.

The objects of this Society are implied in the name
which it bears. It is for the advancement of Christi-
anity, according to the Protestant Episcopal faith, in
South-Carolina. In its views, it embraces nothing
but what has respect to the religious prosperity of the
community. Its operations are not to be limited, to
this or that section of the state. Wherever there is
ground for the CA'pectation, that its labours may be
successful, in spreading the truths, and cultivating the
virtues of the gospel, there will its exertions be impar-
tially, and disinterestedly made. To the excellent
lamps, which the piety of your fathers lighted in many
parts of this, their habitation, the Society would bring
a replenishment of oil ; that they may long burn with a
revived and steady tlamc, and shed a strong, and pure,
and increasing light. Are there any portions of the
state in which, as yet, no such laini)s have been
placed? Thither would the Society hope, in a course
of time to send tlnMii ; reserving to its(!lf the right, and
feeling itself bound by the obligation, to have them in
every case formed, after the ancient and hallowed pat-
tern of the sanctuary. In short, to extend the know-
l(;dge, and increase the inlluence of the pure and undc-
iiled religion of the Redeemer, as it is received free
from the corruptions and additions of men, in the ex-
cellent Church to which we belong, these are the
objects, to which the Society will devote its labours
and care; and this with the truly Christian intention,
of counteracting the baneful effects of a gloomy and
debasing infidelity ; of preventing the progress of
•' false doctrine, heresy, and schism,-' and of bringing

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 255

those of our fellow beings, who may come within the
reach of its beneficence, to a participation of the ele-
vating truths, the consoling promises, and the salvation
unto eternal life, wiiich "God, who in times past
spake unto the fathers by the Prophets, hath in these
latter days" been graciously pleased to communicate
" unto us by his Son."

There are three leading measures, by which it is
proposed to pursue these important objects. The first
is, by distributing gratuitously, or cheaply, the Holy
Scriptures; the Book of Common Prayer; summary
and clear views of the evidences of the truth of reve-
lation, and tracts of approved reputation upon the
doctrines, sacrauii-nts, nnd virtues of Christianity. In
this way, it is presumed, knowledge may be circu-
lated; and attention excited to those truths and duties,
which form the basis of all that is precious in man's
hopes, and pure in his character. That excellent
Society* to which many of the churches in the United
States, in the first years of their settlement, owed their
ministry, and some of them their existence, found this
a most useful measure for propagating the gospel in
the world. They expended in this way much of their
funds; and there are many spirits, I doubt not, rejoic-
ing now before the throne of God, who found in the
tracts that were thus distributed, the light, directions,
and assistance, which guided them to God, and to
heaven. In this respect, it will be gratifying to the
spirit of Americans, to be dependent now, for benefits
of this kind, upon an institution of their own.

Another measure, by which this Society purposes to
pursue its important objects, is the selection of youths
of genius, and pious disposition, from the retired walks
of life, to be educated under its patronage and direc-
tion, for the services of the Church, in the import-

* "Tl>e Society" iti England "for the Propagation of ihft Hospel in Fo-
reign Pirrts." /■

256 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY.

ant offices of the ministry. You have not now te
be told, that

« Many a gem, of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomd caves of ocean bear;
That many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

To procure of these perns, to engrave on them " Holi-
ness to the Lord," and set them in his temple for li^ht,
and for truth ; to take of these flowers, and transplant
them for use and for beauty, into the Church, the car-
den of God, where man is once more admitted to
communion with his Mak(^r, and a^aiii hiddni to reach
forth his hands unto the tree of life, and eat, and live
for ever; these are pur|)0ses of this Society, not It-ss
excellent in themselves, than promotive of its import-
ant objects. Th(Te seem to be peculiar reasons for
adopting this measure in this state. The situation of
the interior parishes, and the unfriendly action of the
climate in one part of the year, upon those who are
strangers to it, renders it a very desirable thing, that
the Church should be furnished with Ministers who
are natives of the land. A fondness, too, it may be
presumed, would be excited in fnvour of such persons;
for what country does not look with the strongest
affection on its own sons; what peoi)le will not have a
greater admiration for the excellencies, and a thicker
mantle for the imperfections of those, who have the
same distinctive name, and civil relations with them-
selves. It may, moreover, be expected, that Clergy-
men, who have been brought forward under the pat-
ronage of such a Society, will feel upon themselves an
increased responsibility, and be actuated by a more
ardent emulation of every thing honourable and useful,
in their profession. Nor may we doubt that, upon the
worthy ministers whom the Church herself, with
pious care, shall have raised for his service, the great

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 257

Head of the Church will look with peculiar comv)la-
cency, and bestow his ^rdce and heavenly benediction.
It is, therefore, probable, that with the Society, for
which I address you, this will be a favourite and most
useful measure.

The third measure, by which it would hope to
accomplish tlie sreat objects of its institution, is, the
supporting of Missionaries, when its funds shall be
adequate, who shall officiate under its direction, in
those places where Ministers, in that capacity, may be
found necessary and useful. There are, it would
appear, some Parishes in which, on account of the
want of funds, or of the insufficiency of the population,
to maintain the ministrations of the sanctuary, the
enjoyment of the services of the Church, has, in
a great measure, passed away. There are, also, it
would appear, places more recently settled, and otiiers
still settling; and with a population destined, in all
probability, to be numerous, wealthy, and influential;
in which, the holy faith, the pure worship, and the
admirable order and economy of the Church, are
entirely unknown.

To the advancement of Christianity in the state,
nothing would be more conducive, than the employ-
ment of Missionaries of irreproachable life, and sound
theological attainments, who, at stations assigned
them, should preach the gospel according to the faith,
and perform divine service according to the ritual of
our own most excellent Church; thus, where the reji-
gious opinions of the people are yet to be formed, lead-
ing them to a system, than which there is none in the
world more pure, more rational, more holy, more pro-
motive of good order in society, more friendly to the
laithful discharge of the social and civil, as well as
religious duties of man; and where this system has
once been enjoyed, but has unhappily disappeared,
bringing it back again to the people, by whose ances-
tors it was cherished, and exciting their affection for

VOL. It'. So

258 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCfETY.

it, bv a manifestation of its worth, anH a patient deve-
lopement uf the benefits, of which its operation niny
be productive.

In each of these ways,' the Society purposes to seek
the H'^taii'ijient of its great leading objects the diflu-
sion o{ ih" truths, and cultivation of tfie virtues, of the
gospel of the Reedcenier. And is it necessary, that
motives should be arlduced to recommend it to your
fa\our? No. An institution, which bears on the
face of it such strmii^ and unetpiivocal txpression of
disinterestedness, benevolence, and pieiy, asks not tlie
Aid of other picas in its behalf: but ebtablisijrs for
itself a i hiim to our c;ood will. Yit, you uill allow
me to bring motives to your view; for motives there
are, which will consecrate your deeiis; motives, under
the influence of which, what is done by you for this
Institution, shall be a benefit to yourselves. Th( re is
not a benevolent intention, which is hallowed by a
sincere love of our fellow bein!:;s, which shall be for-
gotten before God; there is not *' a cup of cold water''
given by any man for the sake of Christ " which shall
in any wise lose its reward."

The first motive, then, which should induce you to
bestow on this Society your patronage and libera!
assistance, is drawn from a regard to our blessed
Redeemer. When \\(> consider the atonement, which,
by his own most precious death, he hath made for our
sins; when we contemplate the liglit which, by his
instructions and exam[»le, he hath shed upon the paths
of virtue; when we think of the aid of the grace of
God, which, by his mediation, he hath |)urchased for
our spirits; when we look forward to the state of im-
mortality, and incorruptible joy unto which he is anx-
ious to bring us, who has not his alTections draw n out
towards this first J3enel"actor of our race; what lan-
guage can express the sum of our obligations to him!
But how shall we testify our gratitude ? What tokens
shall we give him of our love? \Vc cannot "pour

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETT. 259

upon his bead, a box of the most precious ointment"
Wf can procure: nor ''wash his feet with our rears,
and wipe them with the hair of our heads." We can-
not watch with liim wldh^ he sorrows, or sleeps: nor
say to him |)ersonally; "thou knowest that ue love
thoe;" " all that we have is thine." How, then, siiall
Wf^ manifest, palj-ahly, our aff«H'tion towards him-f*
We must espouse the caiise which is dear to him. We
must promote the work, which he desires to see ac-
complished. And, especially, upon the Church, which
he hath taken into so near connection, as to make it
one with himself, we mav bestow tokens of our regard
which he will tiins receive. The Church he loves.
With the Ch'.uch, lie hath left the records of his truth;
the representatives of his power; and the symbols of
his presence. For the Church, as his body, he is
constantly interceding in heaven, "that he may pre-
sent it unto himself a glorious Cluucli, not having
spot, or wrinkle, or any such t.'-.ing." And if, what is
"done to one of the least" of the memlxMs of this his
body, is consid«'red "as done unto him," with what
gracious satisfaction will he behold your gratitude,
employed in increasing the general health and vigour
of the body; in "lifting up its hands which hang
down," "and strengthening its feeble knees;" and
adding by your munificence, to its rejiutation and
beauty. You will thus promote, though you cannot
now approach his person, what a Prophet hath told us
is his dearest recompense, for all that he hath done
and suffered for you. " He shall see of the travail of
his soul, and be satisfied."

Another motive, which it is my duty to bring to
your view, is drawn from a regard to the community.
Some religion, mankind must have. It would be diffi-
cult to discern them in any situation, in which they
have not found, or framed for themselves, some system
of religious belief. Of the importance of a pure and
operative faith, and also of a steady and enlightened

260 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY.

worship, to the happiness, the order, and the good
morals of a people, need I refer you for evidence to
the arrangements of the wisest Legislators, the opin-
ions of the best civilians ; or the contrast which is
exhibited between the feelings, and manners, which
are reputable in the Christian, and those which are
reputable in the heathen world? 1 need not. The
important truth is written in blood, in many parts of
the annals of our race; and if posterity shall not fmd
it upon the first page, they will find it upon the last, of
the narrative of the events of our own days. He,
then, who shall contribute to the advancement of
Christianity in his country, will contribute to the form-
ation of her best interests. For, compared witii Chris-
tianity, every other religion which the world has
known, is as the star that glimmers amidst the dark-
ness and clouds of a cheerless midnight, compared
with th(^ sun that discloses tlie beauties and joys of the
day. If man must be subject to some religion, who
would not have him subject to the gosjud of the Re-
deemer! This religion, I have already intimated to
you, is possessed by the Episco|)al Church, under sin-
gular advantages. And whether I consider the sound-
ness of its Aiith, the transcendent i)urity, h(»liiiess and
beauty of its liturgy, or tiie tendency of its ecclesiasti-
cal economy to promote that love of subordination,
which is essential to order, and tiiat unity of action,
which is essential to prosperity, there seems to me to
rest upon every meml)er of it, a solemn obligation,
arising from the greatness of his privileges, to extend,
as far as he is able, the participation of the system, in
the enjoyment of which, he is so liighly favoured of
God. Would you do what you can, to promote the
religious and moral improvemcMit of man ? They can
liave no better instructions than you may communicate
to them in the gospel ; they can offer no purer sacri-
fices to their Maker, than you may furnish them, in
the Book of Ccmmon-Praver.

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY. 261

There is another consideration, which I would
"bring to your view. It has respeet to yourselves.
" The merciful man," says the author of the sacred
Proverbs, " doeth iiood unto his own soul." This
may refer to the exquisite satisfaction, which ever
accompanies the consciousness of having done a bene-
volent deed; or it may reftM- to that respect of society,
which always waits upon the names, and memories of
those, whose public exertions, or privj\te benefactions,
manifest, that they love to do good: or it may refer to
the payments, which are often made by tlie Most High
in this life, of what the faithfid in charitable acts
lend unto him; or it may refer to the lofty plea-
sures, to the transcendent rewards, which, in the
day of retribution, stiall be given to those, whose
benevolent and us(^ful deeds shall have commend-
ed them, through the mediation of Jesus, to the fa-
vour of heaven. If in any, or all of these ways, he
who promotes the temporal welfare of his fellow be-
ings, does good unto himself, how much rather he,
wiio directed his exertions and charities to the promo-
tion of their si)iritual and eternal interests. Surely,
the pillow of that man's death bed must be smooth,
and hope w ill light up upon him the light of her most
peaceful countenance, who can perceive in the review
of life, that he has done what he could for securing
the safety, and extending the blessings, of that ark of
God, in which are deposited for his human offspring,
wisdom, virtue, and everlasting salvation.

Does there arise to check the operation of these
motives, the inquiry, what is the necessity of this In-
stitution? T.'ie increasing population of the state ill
parts of it, where the Jountains of living water have
not yet been set o])en; the decayed state of the
Churches, in which your forefathers, in goodly num-
bers, once ate with reverence the bread of life ; the
unhappy influence of scepticism on the one hand, and

:262 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY.

not less iiniiappy influence of fanaticism on the otlier,
will, in the Christian bosom, furnish a sufficient reply.

Does there arise the cliilling suggestion, tliis Socit'ty
is young, what can it do? Every thing must have its
beginning. The majestic river has its origin at a little
spring; the cloud which contained tl,e rain that ferti-
lized Samaria, v^'as at fust no bigger than " a man's
hand;" the intelligence which ilhimines a nation, had
its dawn in the infant haji;^ing uj)on tlie breast. Be-
cause this Institution is young, wt> should the more
readily, and more liberally, befriend it.

Does the thought present itself, that the fruits of
your beneficence will be gathered in other times? This
is in some degree true. Before the benevolent designs
of this Sfxiety can be fully realized, its first benefac-
tors will, probably, have been gatlnired to their fathers.
But is tiiere not somethiiig swe(^t in the thought, that
while we shall be slumbering in the grave, posterity
will be reaping great, and imiuirtant benefits, from
what we shall have done ? Is there not something
consoling in the reflection, that the power of death, so
dreadfully to abridge our connection with the sa'nes of
our afl'ection and usefulness, may, in some measure,
be counteracted by tiiis posthumous operation ol our
works? Much good, it is believed, will immediately
ensue from the benevolent exertions of this Institution.
But it is the exi)ectation of great fiiture benefits, to be
derived from it l)y posterity, that will give to your be-
neficence a more disinterested character; yea, that
will assimilate it more perfcTtly to the beneficence of
God. For are not his blessings often bestowed in the
sublimcst character of goodness, where his hand is
unseen, and his name unknown.

You see, then, my hearers, that this Institution pre-
sents itself before you, as an infant friend of your
Redeemer. It stretches out its hands to you for your
smiles, and your help. It says to you, I would be
strong, that I might go forth aixd build up the waste

ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY^ 263

i)laces of the city of God, and bring much people to
the enjoyment of his peace and salvation. The spirits
of those worthy laymen, who anciently sought the
prosperity of the Church in these parts, seem to me
to look down upon it, from their places of rest, and
say ; Jehovah prosper you. The spirits of the mild
and [)ious Johnson, of the sensible and dignified Gar^
den,* and of those patient and entrepid clergymen, who,
in the difficult years of the settlement of these regions,
laboured in the word and doctrine, seem to me to lean
from their seats of bliss, and behold, with delight, the
api)earance of an Institution, which will take up the
work, in which they expended their labours and their
lives. The spirits of your fathers, who once wor-
shipped in the temi)les which are desolate, and whose
ashes rest in their cemeteri«'s, seem to me to call to
you from the skies, to patronise in their steads, this
infant advocate of the Church which they loved. Yea,
the Spirit of Jesus seems to me to be heard, saying to
you, from his throne, " Take this child, and nurse it
for me, and I will give thee thy reward." Daughters
of Jerusalem, love ye your Lord ? I know that you
love him. When you have read of the faithful, the
happy women, who embalmed his body, you have
envied them their felicity. To share it with them, is
not in your power. But he hath a mystical body, the
Church. Upon that, you may bestow the expressions
of your regard for him. And how can you do it so
effectually, as through the instrumentality of this Insti-
tution, which, as Joseph cherished in its humiliation
his earthly body, would cherish the mystical one ia
which he deligiits to dwell. Sons of the Church, love
ye your Lord? I trust that ye love him. When ye
behold the wise men coming to-day to bring to him
iheir " gifts, gold, frankincense and myrrh," ye are

* The Rev Dr. Johnson, the first President of King's College, ]Vevv-York;
and the Rev. Mr. Garden, the Bishop of London's Coramissary in South-Caro-
lina

264 ON THE EPISCOPAL SOCIETY.

Struck with the grandeur of the scone; and are ready
to say, to the author of so much sood to our race,
would we could do likewise. To bring your gifts to
His presence, wlio has died, that your sins might be
pardoned, a. id is gone into heaven to intercede for you
there, is not in your power. But you may bestow
your gold, your frankincense, and your myrrh, upon
the Church, which is his body. And how can you do
it so effectually, as through the instrumentality of this
Institution, which, as tlie angels ministered in the days
of his humiliation to his earthly body, would strengthen
his mystical one with all the services it can devise.
Men and brethren, know yc that the Son of Ciod shall
come again from heaven ? Assuredly ye have heard
it. Behold, he cometh with clouds, and every eye
shall see him, and you also shall stand before him.
And if there shall be found among his attendants,
many happy spirits, who shall have been conducted to
the knowledge of him through the beneficence of this
Society, would you not exchange the recollection of
every earthly vanity, for the remembrance which would
enable you to say, to the Institution which was instru-
mental in bringing these to their bliss, I, in the days
of my flesh, gave a portion of my goods? Go, then;
indulge the emotions which the Spirit of God exciteth
within you; and the fruits of which, the recording
angel waiteth to enter " in the Lamb's book of life."
Go; and as Jacob held the angel ^^ jtii whom he wres-
tled, hold ye this opportunity fast: let it not go, until
it have blessed vou.

SERMON LXX.

FOR A COLLECTION IN AID OF THE FUNDS OF THE "PROTEST
ANT EPISCOPAL SOCIETY FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF CHRIS-
TIANITY IN SOUTH-CAROLINA."

Nehehiah, xiii. 14.

Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and wipe
not out my good deeds that I have done, for the house
of my God, and for the offices thereof

J. AM filled with wonder, my brethren, to behold a
mortal man, claiming of the Almighty a remembrance
for good, on account of his deeds. Man cannot be
too humble before his God. So frail is his nature,
and so imperfect are all his performances, that the
language which becomes him, when he approaches his
Maker, is, " God be merciful to me a sinner." What,
then, are the works, which a mere man, and he a
VOL. IF. 34

266 COLLECTION SERMON.

pious, and bumble man, ventures tbus to name to tbe
Eternal God ? It is the good Nehemiah who uses this
lauisuage. What are the deeds, with the remem-
brance of which, we find him solacing himself, and for
which he calls upon the Most High to remember him?
They were services done for the advancement in his
country of the worship of God, and the religious in-
struction of the people. Jerusalem lay desolate. In
the holy tem|)le, its services were unheard. On the
altars, no sacrifice was laid, for there was a want of
Priests. In the city, no Sabbath was hallowed, for
the house of God was forsaken. There, where once
the Ciiurch had been seen in all the grandeur of her
Mosaic state ; with the law to instruct, and the Pro-
phets to console her children, and the Ark of the
Covenant, from before which was brought to them
pardon and peace; now, silence and desolation reign-
ed; "the place of the father's sepulchres lay waste,
and the gates thereof, were consumed with fire." As
this excellent man, whose interesting history, in the
book from which the text is taken, is worthy of your
attentive perusal, contemplated the decayed state of
the Church of his fathers, he wept. Actuated by a
noble zeal for the glory of God, and the religious in-
stitutions of his country, he called into action all the
resources he could command, that there might be
restored to Jerusalem, some degree of her former
excellence. Were personal services necessary? He
went round the walls, surveying their state, and took
measures for rebuilding ihem. Was the co-operation
of others wanted, for the accomplishment of his work?
He reasoned with the nobles, and rich men, and rulers,
till they were interested in the restoration of the order
and worship of the house of God. Were contributions
needed? All his servants were gathered to the work;
and there were sustained, daily, at his table, an hun-
dred and fifty of the Jews, besides heathens, and he
save to the treasury., a thousand drachms of gold, and

COLLECTION SERMON. 267

fifty basins, and five hundred and thirty Priests' gar-
ments. His example animated others. There were given
by the people to the treasury of work forty thousand
drachms of gold, and four thousand and two hundred
pounds of silver, and three score and seven Priests' gar-
ments. By these means, the waste places of Jerusalem
were rebuilt; where the Sabbaths had been polluted
they were now kept holy; Priests, in sufficient num-
bers, were procured, and appointed to their stated
ministrations; in the temple were again heard the
humble prayer, and Psalm of holy praise; the book
of the law of the Lord was once more read, and
explained in the ears of all the congregation; the
sacred feasts, those pleasant remembrancers of God's
mercies to the children of men, were revived, and cele-
brated each in its place; and Jerusalem was seen
" shaking herself from the dust," and putting on her
beautiful garments; while satisfaction and joy filled
every bosom, in the hope that the Lord God would
again dwell among them. The heart of Nehemiah
glowed with delight, as he surveyed the fruit of his
labours, and with a complacency, which deeds of no
oth( r nature would have inspired, he exclaims, with
eyes uplifted to the Being, to whom we must all give
account, " Remember me, O my God, concerning this,
and wipe not out my good deeds which 1 have done,
for the house of my God, and for the offices thereof."

That which strikes me, my brethren, in this passage
of holy writ, is the intimation which it plainly contains,
that good deeds, done for the houses of our God, and
for the offices thereof, are peculiarly acceptable in his
sight; a doctrine, which is confirmed in his holy word,
by the expressions of his approbation, received by
David and Solomon, and Josiah, and others of the
Scripture worthies, on account of their beneficent
deeds and pious exertions for promoting the know-
ledge and worship of his great name.

But why, are works of this character so peculiarly
acceptable to our Creator.^ The reasons are obvious^

268 COLLECTION SERMON.

and sufficiently impressive, to render us all desirous,
to have placed to our account, in the book of God,
some memorials of good deeds done by us, for the
advancement of the religion, to the knowledge and
fellowship of which, he, of his abundant goodness,
hath vouchsafed to call us.

It may be observed, first, that all benevolent deeds
are pleasing to God. He is love ; and from age to
age, without slumbering or sleeping, is constantly
occupied in doing good. When his offspring are en-
gaged in benevolent works, they resemble him. The
greater the extent of their designs, and the more dis-
interested their motives, the more perfect is this resem-
blance. And the nearer to perfection the resemblance
of him is brought, in any of his children, the greater
must consequently be the complacency, with which
he beholds them ; the higher the approbation he will
bestow upon them. And here it may be remarked, in
passing, that deeds done for the advancement of his
Church arc of the sublimest extent, and most disinter-
ested character. They are of the sublimest extent,
for they embrace the interests of unborn generations,
and the effects of them endure through eternity. They
are of a very disinterested character, for the authors
of them expect not to live even to see the fruits of their
works. Before incense can arise from the altar, of
which he hath contributed to lay the foundation ; be-
fore the youths can be clothed with the holy vestments,
whom he hath assisted to educate for the sanctuary;
before the " beauty of holiness" can be seen, or the
instructions of heaven heard, in the temple which he
hath aided to build, the head of the charitable man
may have been laid to its rest, and his soul have [)assed
to other worlds. Sublime beneficence! which asks
not to be known by those, whom it benefits. Its
deeds fall like the showers which God sends in the
wilderness, where no man is; that he may produce the
substances on which the ravens may feed, and replcn-

COLLECTION SERMON. 269

ish the streams, at which " the wild asses may quench
their thirst," though neither of them perceive or know
the hand that provideth for their life.

But, I pass to a higher reason, why the deeds which
are done for the advancement of the interests of his
Church upon earth, are peculiarly acceptable in the
sight of God. Let it be observed, in the second place,
that the benevolence, which is thus employed, carries
on the great purpose of the Most High, in all his dis-
pensations to this lower world. God has had an end
to accomplish, in this part of his dominion, from the
beginning of the world ; namely, the recovery of the
human race from death, and the restoration to them
of righteousness and eternal life. To this end, the
great acts of his government, and his particular pro-
Tidences to the faithful, have all had reference.
Whether he be heard in the types of the Patriarchal,
or in the sacrifices of the Mosaic economy ; whether
" he speak in times past to the fathers, by the Pro-
phets, or in these latter days to us by his Son ;" whe-
ther he select " a peculiar people," and confide to them
the oracles of truth ; or " break down the partition
wall," and diffuse the revelation of his will among all
nations ; whether he appoint the expiatory offering to
be consumed upon his altar, or give the beloved
Son of his bosom to bleed upon the cross; his pur-
pose is one ; the object of all these dispensations is
the same ; the operations of the great moral ap-
paratus, whose parts extend through all portions of
time, are to produce one result ; the introduction and
establishment of the knowledge of himself, and of
his great salvation ; and the renewing of men in their
minds " after the image of him who created them."
Has he sent affliction to individuals ? Its office and
commission has been, to lead them, if they would be
docile, into the paths of wisdom. Are the nations of
the earth thrown into confusion? His voice is heard
amidst the tumult: " I will overturn, overturn, over-

270 COLLECTION SERMOX.

turn, until he come whose ri^ht it is" to reign. As
the great drama of the events of this world, shall be
drawing towards its close, " many shall run to and
fro, and knowledge shall be increased ;" and the an-
them which shall animate the final scene is, " The
kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of
our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for-
ever and ever." Every effort, therefore, of societies
of men ; every exertion or benevolent deed of indi-
viduals, for establishing and extending tlie Church,
" and the offices thereof," is a co-oi)eration with the
Almighty ; a co-operation with him, in ijromoting the
accomplishment of purposes dear to his mind, from
before the foundation of the world ; and to which, he
has applied his attributes, devoted his providence,
and given " his only begotten Son." How ennobling
the thought, of being " workers together with God."
How strong the obligation upon us, to be so, when-
ever it is in our power. When, indeed, I contemplate
the Almighty as the rightful owner of all things, who
has distributed portions of them as he has seen fit,
among men ; to be used for his glory, and the good
of his creatures ; and behold his institutions languish-
ing for want of the aid of the talents, or influence,
or wealth, which he hath given men, I see not how
they, with whom he hath entrusted any of these gifts,
can escape the imputation, of withholding his own
from God ; when the state, too, in wliich he presents
to their view the work, which they know he has in
hand, indicates his will, that of his own, which he
had freely given them, they should offer him a part
for the honour of his name. " Will a man rob God ;"
said he to his ancient people, when they had suffered
the ofKices of his house to fall to decay." " Will a
man rob God ? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say,
wherein have we robbed thee ? In tithes and offerings;"
intimating, that to so much of their wealth, as was
necessary to the maintenance of his holy institutions

COLLECTION SERMON. 271

among them, he had a claim, which it would be, not
merely a want of beneficence, but an act of injustice
to him, not to acknowledge and discharge. Who,
then, would refuse to co-operate with the Almighty,
in promoting the knowledge and honour of his name,
and the salvation of his human children ? Surely, of
all the works which men may do, deeds of this kind
must be peculiarly acceptable to him, whether they be
considered as expressive of our desire, that his plea-
sure should be accomplished in the world, or as
promotive of objects, which he, himself, has declared
the most important, which can be pursued on^ earth,
by making them the subject of his own eternal coun-
sels, and end of his wonderful dispensations.

I add, in tlie third place, that, in Christians, good
deeds done for the benefit of his Church, are emi-
nently becoming, as a proper expression of gratitude to
the Redeemer. Of his claim to your gratitude, it is
not necessary for me here to speak. You have not
now to be told of his love, nor of the greatness of the
salvation he hath wrought for your race. I need not
take you to Bethlehem, and show you him emptied of
divine glory, and, for your sakes, entering this misera-
ble world in the humblest form of human existence.
I need not conduct you over Judea, and point him out
to you amidst cares and troubles, going about doing
good. I need not lead you to the garden of Gethse-
mane, that you may look upon the uns|)eakable agony
he sustains, while " he bears your griefs, and carries
your sorrows," " and God is laying on him the iniqui-
ty of you all." I need not ascend Mount Calvary
with you, that you may see him stretched upon the
cross, and pouring out his life a ransom for your souls.
I need not turn your attention to the sacred volume,
and remind you of the blessed instructions in truth and
righteousness, which he hath left you. I need not
direct the eye of your faith, to the throne of God, that
you may behold him there, still making intercession

272 COLLECTION SERMON.

for you, and sending, from thence, the " Comforter,
that he may abide with you for ever." I need not bid
you rise on the wing of holy expectation, and pass to
the portals of heaven, and consider the mansions of
bliss and immortality, which he hath purchased for you
with his blood, and is preparing for your reception,
that " where he is, there you may be also." No.
With these deeds of your Redeemer you are well
acquainted, and there are hours, when, overwhelmed
with the contemplation of the greatness of his love,
you are ready to exclaim, " O, that I knew where 1
might find him, that I might come even to his seat !"
But, while he is within the vail, presenting before the
Mercy Seat his own expiatory blood, and making in-
tercession for us, it is not permitted us to approach his
sacred person. But the body of which he is the head,
is on earth, as well as in heaven. The Church is his
body. In all its afllictions he is afflicted, and in all
its prosperities he is rejoiced. Whenever it is exalted,
and its interests advanced, he is honoured, and when
it is neglected and despised, he is trampled under foot.
In their care of its growth, and reputation, and beauty,
his disciples express their affection for its head, and
whatsoever good deed is done by any man, to the least
of its members, is done to him. Yes, blessed Lord,
though now we see thee not, thou hast left us a way
in which we may make some return for thy uni>aral-
leled love. We cannot come to thee, and wash thy
wounds. We cannot anoint thy head with ointment.
We cannot kiss thy feet. But we may espouse the
cause on earth which thou, in heaven, art anxious to
have accomplished ; and the good deeds and gifts
which, if thou wert present, we should come witli
eager steps to offer unto thee, we may bestow upon the
Church, which thou hast espoused unto thyself, and
in her, thou wilt receive the offerings of our love.
And how great, as well as meet, is the satisfaction
which we may afford our Redeemer, by extending the

COLLECTION SERMON. 273

knowledge and influence of his religion. " Is there
joy in heaven, among the angels of God, over one sin-
ner that repenteth ?" How much more in the bosom
of him, who died that sinners might repent and live.
Consider, that the enjoyment of the holy Sabbaths ;
that access to the fonts of Baptism ; that the oppor-
tunities and means of offering to God acceptable ser-
vices; that the instructions in righteousness, and tid-
ings of joy, which Christianity furnishes; and that
the sacred Supper at which, for the full assurance of
our faith, we are ui)on earth brought nigh unto God,
and God is brought nigh unto us, were all procured
at the expense of the incarnation, and death of the
Son of God. IIow, if I may speak of Ilim as man,
who is exalted far above all i)rinci[)alities and powers,
how must He be pained, when privileges and bless-
ings purchased by him for the human race, at such a
cost, are but partially enjoyed. AVhat expression of
our gratitude to him, can be more becoming and ac-
ceptable, than by " good deeds done for the houses of
our God, and for the offices thereof," to contribute to
the preservation and extension of those principles, in-
stitutions, and instructions, without which, the Church
of his regard, would be poor and feeble, and sink into
decay ; and many of the family, which he died to
save, i)erish for lack of knowledge, or, for the neglect
and abuse of it, be condemned to utter perdition.

And this leads me to observe in the last place, that
good deeds, done for the advancement of religion in
the world, may well be supposed to be peculiarly a-
greeable to the Most High, inasmuch, as they are pro-
motive of the best interests of our fellow beings, his
human children. For what is man without the in-
structions of his Maker ? What is his condition, where
the light of God's word hath not shined ? Shall I
speak of him as an individual ? " How art thou fal-
len" from thy original greatness, thou " Son of the
Morning!" He wants instruction for his mind : guid-

voL. ir. 3.5

274 ' COLLECTION SERMON.

ance for his affections; restraint for his vices; ani-
mation for his virtues; consolation for his sorrows;
a sacrifice for his sins ; foundation for his hopes ; and
some staff for his spirit, when he enters " the valley
of the shadow of death." It is religion's holy power,
that must soften his character, bri2;hten his path, and
restore to him the lineaments of the image of God.
Shall I speak of him, as joined with his brethren in
society ? He is destitute of those views of his nature
and destiny, which would give elevation to his char-
acter, and teach him to respect, both himself and his
fellow beings. Of the most powerful sanctions of the
laws of kindness, and faithfulness, and charity, and
truth, he is ignorant or regardless. The passions are
without reins, which carry him, with desolating im-
petuosity, over the rights and feelings of others. There
is wanting, that regard to a future retribution, which
hallows and protects all the duties of the social state.
How different his character and happiness, when bless-
ed with the religion of Christ, under the benignant
influence of which, if it had operation in all its purity
and power, " the wolf would lie down w ilh the lamb,
and the leopard with the kid, and the calf and the
young lion, and the failing together, and a little child
should lead them:" a state, which Almighty Cod hath
taught us, is not to be expected, till the " earth shall
be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters
cover the sea." Shall I speak of him, as a being who
has higher interests than th.e concerns of this fleeting
life ; whose relations and fortunes, extend to other
worlds ; whose existence is to be eternal ? Ah I What
an alternative is presented in this the most interesting
view. He may rise to glory, honour, and immortality
in the kingdom of God ; or be driven " into everlasting
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." How im-
portant, to convey to him that " grace of God, which
bringeth salvation ; which shows him his duty, and
Sjuides him into the path of safety ; which reveals t«

COLLECTION SERMON. 275

iiim that Saviour, concerning whom we have the as-
surance of the Almighty, that " whosoever liveth, and
believeth in him, shall not die eternally." In every
view which we take of man, the instructions and com-
forts of Christianity, are the best benefits we can pro-
vide for him. It is well known to you, that the good
deeds which the merciful do to the bodies of men, arc
pleasing in the sight of the Almight3^ You have
heard that, they who have fed the hungry, and given
drink to the thirsty, and received the stranger, and
clothed the naked, and comforted the sick, and visited
tlie prisoner, shall be i)laced on his right hand, when
he Cometh to judge the world. If these acts of charity to
the bodies of men, are so pleasing to our heavenly Father,
with what high ajjprobation must he behold those, who
assist in providing the means, whereby the soul that is
hungry, may be fed with " the bread that came down
from heaven," and the parting spirit have its thirst
allayed, at the fountains of life ; whereby he w ho was
a stranger to the covenant of promise, may be taken
into the congregation of Christ's flock ; and the naked
soul, be protected with the covering of the righteous-
ness of its Redeemer, whereby the heart that is sick
with the sense of its sinfulness, may be visited by the
Comforter, who aa ill seal to it the overtures of for-
giveness aud peace; and they who are fast bound in
the prison of the adversary, with the chain of their
sins, may be set free by that grace, which destroyeth
the power of the devil. Deeds of such charity are,
doubtless, as delightful \a orks as any which God sees
performed, by the inhabitants of this our world. Other
acts of benevolence affect the perishable, these the
immortal part of men. The comfort which the for-
mer afford, is limited to this transient state : the bene-
fits of the latter, may be felt eternally. On this ac-
count, it is written ; " they that be wise" in under-
standing the preference of spiritual interests, and
making them sure, " shall shine as the brightness of

276 COLLECTION SERMON.

the firmament; and they that turn many to righteous-
ness," by their exertions, their example, or deeds of
benevolence, to which the love of Christ, and of men's
souls, hath constrained them, " as the stars for ever
and ever."

You see, then, my hearers, how great excellence,
utility, and hoi)e of the divine approbation, belong to
good deeds, done for the advancement amons nien of
religious instruction, and the worship of God. It is to
the performance of deeds of this character, that I am
now to invite you. The object of the Society, which,
to-day, solicits your aid, is the "advancement of
Christianity in South-Carolina," after the principles, m
and ritual of our own distinjiuishcd Church. This .1
object, it would endeavour to accomplish, by diffusing, ^
liberally, works of ai)proved re|)uintion u))on sacred
subjects; placing always at the head of them, the
Scriptures, and the Book of Common Prayer; by
educating young men, who are natives of this country,
for the ministry of the Church; and by sending Mis-
sionaries of good character, to preach the gospel, and
perform the services of the Church, in |)laces where
these benefits cannot otiierwise be enjoyed. When
they cast their pyes ujion many spots, where the
Church once stood in her glory, they "think upon her
stones, and it pitieth them to see her in the dust."
When they add to the view, the growing i)opulation of
the state; the increasing attention to religious inqui-
ries; the desire, manifested in many i.laces, to have
the advantages of public \vorshi[), and the wild fanati-
cism which is spreading itself in some quarters, and is
as little likely to honour the character, as to i)roduce
the fruits of true religion, they perceive that " the
harvest is great, but the labourers {ew ;^^ and are
compelled by the insufllciency of their funds, for the
extent of their work, to call upon you to aid their
exertions, that " labourers may be sent forth into the
harvest." Of this charity, there is a view, which.

COLLECTION SERMON. 277

upon my mind, is so impressive, that I cannot but per-
suade myself it will fill you with joy, in an opportunity
to contribute to the accomplishment of its purposes.
Suppose that our blessed Redeemer stood amongst us,
and asked of you an alms; an alms to assist him in
carrying on the work, upon which he came down from
heaven, the enlightening, reforming, and saving of
mankind. Do I deceive myself, when I imagine you
hastening to him with holy love, with fervent devotion,
and emptying all your treasures at his feet? From
the meek and beneficent Jesus, the most dissolute, I
am ssre, would not turn away without offering him a
portion of his possessions. The language of his dis-
ciples would be, " all that we have, is thine." But,
my brethren, the necessities of the gospel are His
necessities. When his religion solicits your aid, it is
He that speaks. Societies, for diffusing the blessings
of his Church, present the same object which he would
propose. " Inasmuch," says he, " as ye have done it
unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto
me." And what can we do, concerning which our
God will be so likely to remember us? What acts are
more meet, in the da3's of your prosperity, than " good
deeds done for the house of your God, and for the offi-
ces thereof?" Of what works, will the recollection be
more solacing, in the seasons of your adversity, than
of " good deeds done for the house of your God, and
for the offices thereof?" To what transactions of
your life will you look back, with more pleasure, when
you shall be entering the vale of death, than to " good
deeds done to the house of your God, and to the offi-
ces thereof?" What works can you be more desirous
to have rehearsed concerning you, in the day of judge-
ment, than " good deeds done" upon earth " for the
house of your God, and for the offices thereof?"
Give, then, ye rich ; that of the abundance which he
hath given you, a portion may be used to the honour
of his name. To the treasury of this work, offer your

278 COLLECTION SERMON.

contributions, ye gay, and thoughtless, if, haply, amidst
your omissions of duty, and transgressions of his laws,
the Almighty may remember you for this. And you,
lovers of Christianity, who, if its Author were to put
to you the question, which he put to his Apostle,
" Lovest thou me," would reply with a zeal not less
than his, " Thou knowest all things ; thou knowest
that I love thee," assist by your oblations to " feed his
sheep, and feed his lambs." Jesus, from his throne,
looks down, to-day, to behold the measure of our
beneficence. Christians, will ye refuse to gratify your
Redeemer ?

SERMON LXXI.

PUBLIC FAST.

Jeremiah, xviii. 7, 8.

At what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and
concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and to pull
down, and to destroy it; if that nation, against
whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil, I will
repent of the evil that I thought to do unto them.

JL HE vicissitudes which create, which alter, and
which destroy countries and communities, are among
the most interesting occurrences of our globe. In
them, we feel a lively interest as men, and have natu-
rally a desire to ascertain the spring of their move-
ments, and the principles, according to which, those
movements are governed. The Scriptures abound

280 PUBLIC FAST.

with passages, which furnish information upon this
subject; and contain the only instruction capable of
solving the difficulties in which it is frequently envel-
oped. The text, is one of a great number of declara-
tions, from which the man, who is engaged in observ-
ing the events of the world, or is alarmed by the ten-
dency of the awful phenomena of nature, or concerned
for the vicissitudes of his own country, may obtain
that knowledge which should, at once, satisfy his
inquiry, and render him immble and virtuous: "At
what instant I shall speak concerning a nation, and
concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, to pull down, and
to destroy it; if that nation against whom I have
pronounced, turn from their evil, I will repent of the
evil that I thought to do unto them."

These words suggest to us, in the first place, that
the being and condition of countries and communities,
of nations and kingdoms, are under the control of the
Most High.

Secondly, that the great procuring cause of perplex-
ities and afflictions, calamities and ruin, in any sec-
tion of the earth, is the predominance of irreligion and
vice.

And, thirdly, that by timely reformation, a people
may avert the evils, which, on account of their sins,
the Almighty may have pronounced against them.

These three most interesting truths, are evidently
contained in this portion of the sacred writings; and
they strike me as peculiarly proper for your present
meditation.

That the fate and events of countries, and com-
munities, are in the hands of God, is almost a neces-
sary consequence of his being and character. That
he has created a world, and then abandoned it to the
government of chance, is a supposiuon so repugnant
to the idea of any purpose in creating it; so incom-
patible with all his known attributes; so contradictory
to every reasonable sentiment of a God, that it is

PUBLIC FAST. 281

Utterly inadmissible. To suppose him watchful of the
operations in the universe, and yet not active in the
management of them, would seem irreconcileable,
with the inefficacy of all laws without his might;
with the appearance of design in most events; with
the effects of a sublime power which many of them
display ; and with the existence, on peculiar occasions,
of some occurrences which have been departures from
the ordinary course of nature. To believe any affairs
to be under the guidance of his providence, and yet to
imagine, that the fortunes of whole countries and peo-
ple, are free from his observation and care, would be
inconsistent with the variety, and magnitude of the
interests, which are in those fortunes always involved.
If, then, there be a God, there is a supreme provi-
dence. For can we believe him all-powerful, wise,
and good, and yet regardless of his works? Are there
not events, for which we can in no way satisfactorily
account, but by referring them to his special exertion?
If there be a providence, it is concerned always about
the condition and events, of nations and kingdoms.
For can any objects more need his attention, or be
more suitable for his care? Does he cause the grass
to grow upon the mountains, and number the hairs of
our heads, and at the same time neglect those occur-
rences in the i)hysical, and social world, with which,
are generally connected, the safety, the happiness and
the improvement of millions of his intelligent crea-
tures; with which are often connected, the progress
of civilization, virtue, and religion; yea, with which
is sometimes connected, that display of his own glory,
for which all things are, and were created ? These
sentiments are confirmed by their having been com-
mon to all mankind. The poets of remotest antiquity,
represent their heroes as seeking by sacrifices and liba-
tions the protection of the gods, when marching to
battle ; or their intervention when assailed by plagues.
The disciples of imposture and of ignorance, have
voT,. u. 36

282 PUBLIC FAST.

recourse to the intercession of their prophet and theit
Bramins, for distinguishing favours, or the averting of
awful calamities. And the best rulers of the most
enlightened times, have deemed it rational and useful
to direct iheir thoughts, and the thoughts of their peo-
ple, to the God of heaven in seasons of alarm and
danger. Above all, they are sentiments which are
rendered unquestionable, by the authority of the sacred
volume. In the Scriptures, the Almighty is explicitly
represented, as superintending all the wonderful occur-
rences in the natural, political, and moral world.
They expressly teach, that an arm of flesh, and a bow
of steel, are destitute of strength, when he bids them
be relaxed ; that peace and war operate in the manner
which he permits, during the period which he limits,
and in the sphere which he assigns; that the blessings
which prosper, and the calamities which deject com-
munities, are sent by him, and by him recalled ; that
the pestilence, and the famine, and the noisome beast,
and the sword, are his four sore judgements; that the
thunder, and the earthquake, and great noise, and the
storm, and tempest, and ilame of devouring iirv, arc
visitations of the Lord of Hosts; that the elements
of nature are his ministers, to perform his i)urposes.
If we do not reject the sacred volume, we must believe
that every people is with CJod, as a vessel of clay
in the hands of the potter, which he braketh, and mar-
reth, and maketh again according to his pleasure,
and the uses for which it is designed. In the history
of his " peculiar peoi)le," we see him regulating their
movements, aiding or frustrating their purposes, and
achieving their exploits. And in the sublime passage
which now guides our meditations, he, with a majesty
of language, scarcely Surpassed in any other portion of
the holy books, represents the fate of countries as de-
termined by his word. " At what instant I shall speak
concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to
pluck up, and to pull down, and to destroy it."

PUBLIC FAST. 283

But it may be objected, if it is thus certain, that
the events of lime are under the superintendence of
God, why are there so great evils both in the natural
and political world ? Why does the earthquake terrify
and devastate whole cities and countries, in some regions,
and war deluge others with blood ? Why is" the arm of
abused power" ever successful, and unprincipled vio-
lence seen triumphing over prostrate man ? To this it
would be sufficient to rej)ly, that in us, beings of yes-
terday, who see but a few links of the vast chain, in
which the Almighty hath connected all occurrences in
the universe ; who, with the utmost effort of our fa-
culties, are unable, in this our low |)osition, to per-
ceive the final results of any of his operations, it is
presumptuous, vainly presumptuous, to attempt to fa-
thom the counsels of his mi"d ; and worse than pre-
sumptuous, with the e»fdences which he hath vouch-
safed to give us iii iiis word and works, of his wis-
dom, goodness, and rectitude, to doubt that all his
arrangem^^iits will terminate, to the honour of his
government, and the greatest possible benefit of his
creatures. As the objection, however, is plausible, it
may be well to observe further, that our estimate of
what appears to be evil may often be erroneous. There
are certainly reasons for apprehending, that in the vi-
cissitudes of this disordered world, the course is taken
by divine providence, which, upon the whole, is best ;
and " all partial evil, universal good." Thus, though
the earth quake, or the whirlwind may destroy a city,
and both be made instrumental by the Almighty of
executing his vengeance upon a guilty people, they
may, nevertheless, be necessary to the safety, the du-
rability, and the salubrity of the globe they disturb.

" The winter is as needful as the spring,

The tliunder as the sun ; a stagnant mass

Of vapours breeds a pestilential air.

Not more propitious the Favonian breeze

To nature's health, than purifying storms.

The dread volcano ministers to good ;

Its smothered flames might undermine the world."

284 PUBLIC FAST.

Somewhere, I know not where, I have seen it with
striking force and beauty asked, whether the insect,
whose habitation the ploughshare overturns, knows
that its motions conduces to that fertility of the earth,
which is to sustain many intelligent creatures ? In like
manner, from the convulsions, and terrible occurrences
in the moral world, there may be educed by the Being,
who bringeth good out of evil, such results, as will
advance his purposes, and the general welfare. " The
arm of abused power," as in the case of the Assyrian
monarch, may be used by him as a scourge, in execut-
ing his anger upon the nations, whom he would chas-
tise, though it may be an object in itself of divine ab-
horrence, and destined, in manifestation of the divine
holiness, to be, in itself, fnially broken. Evils there
are in the world. They are to be looked for in a
world inhabited by sinners, uiul labouring und«r a
curse. But we have no reason lo believe, that they
are not the least evils of w hich existing circumstances
would admit. We know that they shall all be bent
by God, to promote the accomplishment of his plea-
sure, in the manifestation of his glory, and the final
triumph and reward of truth and goodness. Could
the state and character of the people who have hither-
to been, be accurately known, for myself, 1 cannot
doubt, that the proportion of the measure of their
real happiness, and the degree of their purity and vir-
tue, would be found sufficiently just, to vindicate the
agency of the great moral governor, in tiieir respec-
tive allotments.

This brings us to the second truth contained in the
text, viz : that the great cause of perplexities and
troubles, calamities and ruin, in any region, is the
predominance of corrupt principles and manners.
From the evils which the divine providence sends upon
the world, there can be no other cause than the trans-
gressions of the inhabitants thereof. If we look into
the volume of revelation, the best guide to a know-

PUBLIC FAST. 285

ledge of tlie principles of tlic divine government, we
shall learn that, " he doth not willingly afflict or grieve
the children of men." The scriptures, again and again
represent the calamities of a people, as the punishment
of their sins. " O Israel, thou hast fallen by thine
iniquity." " Your iniquities have turned away these
things, and your sins have withholden good things
from you." *' At what instant I shall speak concern-
ing a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to build and
to plant it ; if it do evil in my sight, that it obey not my
voice, then 1 will repent of tlic good, wherewith I
said I would benefit them." " Thou didst march
through thy land in indignation, thou didst thresh
the heathen in anger. Thou woundedst the head out
of the house of the wicked, by discovering the foun-
dation unto the neck." " In the hand of the Lord
there is a cup, and the wine is red ; it is full mixt,
and he i)oureth out of the same ; as for the dregs there-
of, all the ungodly of the earth shall drink them, and
suck them out." " Then will I cut off Israel out
of the land which I have given them; and this house,
which I have hallowed for my name, will I cast out
of my sight ; and every one that passeth by it shall
be astonished, and they sliall say. Why hath the Lord
done thus unto this land, and to this house ? And they
shall answer, Because they forsook the Lord their
God, and have taken hold upon other gods, and have
worshipped them, and served them ; therefore hath
the Lord brought upon them all this evil." Famine,
pestilence, the sword, conflagration, earthquakes,
tempests, and all the public calamities, are mentioned
in the Scriptures, as ministers of vengeance, calling
upon the people to whom they are sent, to observe the
tokens of divine displeasure, and consider their wa)^s.
So strong is the language of inspiration upon this
point, that it represents the Deity as constrained by
his holiness, to execute his judgements upon a land,
laden with iniquity. " Shall I not visit for these things,

286 PUBLIC FAST.

saith the Lord, and shall not my soul be avenged upon
such a nation as this."

Nor is reason less explicit upon this truth, than rev-
elation. Upon a little reflection siie perceives, that
the Almighty, being perfectly holy, wise, and good,
will approve and encourage virtue. This necessarily
implies, the condemnation and punishment of vice.
In beings destined to exist hereafter, there is extensive
opportunity for the fulfilment of the divine intentions.
Their immortality, opens a wide field ior the display
of the justice of God. And hence it is, that in tins
present state, vice does not alway in the individual,
meet its retribution, nor virtue its reward. But nations
and communities, as such, are not immortal. At
their dissolution, they are annihihued. In a state of
after accountability, we have no reason to think, they
will ever exist. It should, therefore, seem reasonable,
that they should, in their present existence, enjoy the
rewards due to their virtues, and endure the punish-
ments which their vices deserve. If their fortunes
and fate, be subjects of the divine providence, he,
doubtless, applies to them the principles of his moral
government. And under the application of tliese prin-
ciples, sliall not the thoughtless fear thee, O, Lord;
shall not the ungodly be afraid!

To place tiie point beyond dispute, experience
w eeping as she reviews her venerable annals, declares
from them that the indignation of heaven has fre-
quently been brought upon whole communities, by
their sins; that debasement, calamity, and ruin, have
resulted to them from the predominance of depraved
principles and manners. She points to " the cities of
the plain," " set forth for an example, suffering the
vengeance of eternal fire ;" and a sigh escapes from
her lips, as she repeats the cause of their destruction;
that ten righteous men could not be found in them!
She turns to an earlier page, and looks aghast upon
the ravages of the flood, and when it is incjuired,

PUBLIC FAST. 287

wherefore did the Almighty bring this dreadful convul-
sion upon his earth, and desolation upon his creatures,
she proclaims, that " all flesh had corrupted their
ways" before him. She directs your attention to the
chosen people, and shows you them, now visited with
pestilence, now languishing in captivity; now terrified
with awful phenomena in their country, now scourged
with war; now having "the wisdom of their wise
men" taken away, " and the understanding of their
prudent men hid ;" now having the fruit of their la-
bours wasted, by blast and mildew, by the canker
worm, the caterpillar, and the palmer worm; now
seeing " the cities, the places of their fathers sepul-
chres, laid waste, and the gates thereof consumed
with fire;" and in all the seasons of their calamities,
she shows you the demons of idolatry, turning them
from their God; or uncommon profligacy rendering
them unfit for his mercies. She places herself upon
the mouldering relics of cities, once great and fair;
upon the territories of empires, once splendid and
mighty; and, as she looks upon the gloomy vestiges of
their destruction, demands, were piety and purity here,
when these desolations came; was holiness buried in
these ruins? She stretches out her hand to direct
your eyes to Jerusalem, even " the city of the great
king;" she reminds you of the ingratitude, the unbe-
lief the hypocrisy the licentiousness, and hardened
hearts of the people, by whom it was inhabited ; and
while you survey, with horror creeping over your
senses, its most remarkable desolation, she writes,
with a pen dipped in the fount of inspired knowledge,
that the Almighty " hath not done without cause, all
he hath done in it." Thus do revelation, and reason,
and experience, the three great guides to knowledge,
unite in their testimony, that " righteousness exalteth
a nation; but sin is a reproach" and destruction " of
any people."

288 PUBLIC FAST.

This leads us to the last point of observation, that
by a timely reformation of their principles and lives,
communities may avert the dii)leasure of the Almighty.
Contrition is estimable, and acceptable through the
Redeemer, in an individual. It has turned away the
wrath of heaven, from many an offender. But, when
a community, as one body, is roused by a sense of
danger, or by the calls of the Most High, in alarming
occurrences, in foreign examples, or in his holy word,
or by their own consciousness of a relaxed state of
religion and morals, to " consider their ways," and
turn with sincerity to God, to humble themselves be-
fore him; and to express their earnest desire to be
made objects of his forgiveness and favour, if ever he
may be said to be taken with holy violence, it is by
such an act. " Rend your hearts," says he, " and not
your garments, and turn unto the T^ord your God ; for
he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of
great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil." 01
the efficacy of such repentance, examples are not
wanting. In the history of the Jews, a people select-
ed, I conceive, among other reasons, that in them
might be exemplified to all the nations of the earth,
the rules, and method of the divine govennnent, as i(
concerns them; we iind, that, as their dei)arture from
the commandments of God, subjected them to divers
calamities, so their return to truth and obedience,
averted the evils which were pronounced against them,
and obtained the divine favour. And how great, how
affecting is the example, which is presented to your
view, in one of the Lessons which have been read.
Nineveh, that great, and wealthy, and splendid city,
had become dreadfully irreligious and dissolute. Ruia
was in awful indignation pronounced against it. " Yet
forty days," the Proi)het was commanded to proclaim,
*' and Nineveh shall be overthrown. And the people
of Nineveh believed God, and proclaimed a fast, and
put on sackcloth, from the greatest to the least of them.

PUBLIC FAST. 289

For word came unto the King of Nineveh, and he
arose from his throne, and he laid his robe from
him, and covered him with sackcloth, and sat in
ashes. And he caused it to be proclaimed, and pub-
lished through Nineveh, saying, Let neither man nor
beast, herd nor flock, taste any thing; let them not
feed, nor drink water. But let man and beast be cov-
ered with sackcloth, and cry mightily unto God; yea,
let them turn every one from his evil way, and from
the violence that is in their hands. Who can tell, if
God will turn and repent, and turn away from his
fierce anger, that we perish not. And God saw their
works, that thoy turned from their evil way; and God
repented of the evil, that he said he would do unto
them ; and he did it not." But why should I multiply
examples? " God is not a man that he should lie,"
and he hath given us express assurances, of the effi-
cacy of humiliation and amendment, to turn away his
wrath. With the text before us, we can need no other
quotations: " At what instant I shall speak concerning
a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck up, and
to pull down, and to destroy them; if that nation,
against whom I have pronounced, turn from their evil,
I will repent of the evil, that I thought to do unto
them."

I have detained you too long, my hearers, upon
these important topics, to be able, without wearying
you, to dwell upon the many instructive inferences
which they would sustain. You will indulge me,
however, with observing, that they place before you,
in a striking view, the propriety of that act of your
Chief Magistrate, which has assembled us in this holy
place ; and that they offer you the most powerful in-
ducements to keep such a Fast, as the Lord hath
chosen. Our age seems to be an awful era, in which
the Almighty hath spoken, " to pluck up, to pull down,
and to destroy" many nations of the earth. Our
country, has not had little cause to be alarmed, lest, of

^'f>T.. ir. 37

290 PUBLIC FAST.

the cup of his wrathful displeasure, she also should be
called £0 drink. The skirts of those clouds which
darken Europe, have been seen rising on the edge of
our horizon. Thunders, and earthquakes, and great
noises; storms, and tempests, and the flame of devour-
ing fire, those ministers of alarm, which come from
the Most High in mercy, as well as in judgement,
have been, in an unusual manner, visiting our land.
And " the voice of his word" has proclaimed in our
temples, his standing admonitions, that though " he is
gracious and long-suffering, he will by no means clear
the guilty." Of the strange events, both in the natu-
ral, and moral world, which mark this age, we should
make the use, to which rational beings, and especially
Christians, should convert them ; to lead us to religious
reflection, and godly fear; to check us in onr incon-
siderate prartices, and turn us from the error of our
ways " unto the wisdom of the just." It is not, how-
ever, by the formality of a day's humiliation, that we
shall recommend ourselves to God, bul by minds i)uri-
fied by faith, and lives distinguished for virtue. Let
us, then, bring every one his erroneous principles, his
vicious disi)Ositions, his criminal practices, and his dis-
solute manners, and sacrifice them on the altar of his
country's preservation. Let us, in the several spheres
of our influence, discountenance the profanation of
the Sabbath, the n(^glect of the institutions of Chris-
tianity, and all that corruption of sentiment and man-
ners, which is as little promotive of man's present
happiness, as it is sure to produce his everlasting de-
struction. Let us unbend the heavy burdens, and
deal our bread to the hungry, and cover the naked
with a gcument, and not hide our face from our own
flesh. Above all, as we love our own safety, and the
happiness of posterity, and the honour of our God
and Redeemer, let us endeavour to check the exten-
sion of those sceptical tenets, and habits, which arc
like the overllovvings of ungodliness, which made

PUBLIC FAST. 291

David afraid. While we see the Almighty shaking
the earth in his majesty, making bare his arm in the
sight of all the nations, and stretching out the rod of
his power, over this guilty world, let us hearken to the
words, which, as he bends to execute his judgements
over the creatures of his hand, do yet proceed from
his gracious lips; " O, that there were such an heart
in them, that they would fear me, and keep all my
commandments always, that it might be well with
them, and with their children for ever!"

SERMON LXXIL*

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

Psalm, c. 4.

Enter into his gates ivith thanksgiving, and into his
courts with praise; he thankful unto him, and bless
his name.

are assembled to day, at the call of our Civil
Rulers, to offer an annual tribute of praise and thanks-
giving, to the ever blessed God. "Very meet and
right" it is, " and our bounden duty," thus, as a peo-
ple, to adore and magnify the great and benevolent
author of our national, domestic, and individual pri-
vileges. Blessings which we socially enjoy, require a

* Preached at Ne^vport, Rhode-Island, previous to 1809.

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 293

social acknowledgment. Mercies which are public-
ly bestowed, demand a public expression of praise.
This, you have learned from the Scriptures. Your
reason and the authority of your Church, approve it.
And you are met together, I trust, with that undis-
sembled gratitude, which may perfume the incense
that is, at this moment, rising from so many altars, in
this part of our common country.

In no way can I more j^ropcrly lead 5'oiir medita-
tions, or more fully set before you our obligations, to
honour and praise the Almighty, than by enlarging
upon the blessings, set forth in the proclamation, as
requiring our grateful and devout acknowledgments.

In the first place, we are called upon to render
thanks to " the author and giver of every good gift,"
that our country has enjoyed peace, and freedom, and
their happy fruits, while the nations of the earth have
been convulsed by wars and violence, and deluded
and oppressed, by the cupidity and ambition of wick-
ed men. Peace and freedom, are among the choicest
blessings which heaven can bestow upon a nation.
Alas! What people have justly appreciated them, till
they were gone? Without them, small is the enjoyment
of any other blessing. Property is not safe, improve-
ment languishes, the smiles of comfort, and the car-
rols of joy, cease; the endearing charities of life, yield
not their customary delight; humanity loses its bland
control over the hearts of men, when the peace and
freedom of a country are destroyed. Even the kind
voice of religion, is lost in the din of contention, and
her benevolent hand palsied, in the manacle of servi-
tude. War and slavery! They are among the sores
and curses which an angry God inflicts upon the earth,
when he would chastise its degenerate inhabitants. In
its preservation from these evils, our country has lii-
therto been peculiarly favoured, by the Almighty. We
live in an eventful period of the world. Our age, is
an age of tribulation to a great part of the earth. We

294 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

have seen a war of uncommon terror, spring from mon-
strous parents, and, uncontroled by any principle of
honour or right, sent forth to ravage the most civilized
portions of the globe. Early it fed upon the ruins of
every thing great and sacred. It demolished the weak,
and dismayed the powerful. It prowled for plunder,
even into the hallowed abodes of religion. It spared
not the peaceful recesses of the arts. It had, at length,
returned to the den from which it came, spiteful as a
wounded tiger, and covered with the blood of inno-
cence and virtue. The humane were wishing that
there it might expire, either of its surfeit, or of its
dreadful exertions. But, it is again let loose. Eu-
rope trembles at its aj)proach. The nations of the
earth observe its movements with wonder. Grown
stronger by rest, and more ravenous by confinement,
who can foresee the extent, and end of its devastations.
They are known only to that omniscient God, who
" maketh peace, and createth war," and, by whom
alone, the remainder of wrath can be restrained.

Melancholy, in the course of this tumultuous period,
has been the fate of many happy and interesting peo-
ple. The great and splendid nation, with whom these
confusions originated, relinquished her hold on all her
ancient establishments in an infatuated pursuit, through
the blood of the best, and worst of her sons; after
w hat the unprincipled and aspiring had persuaded her,
was Liberty. But she mistook a cloud for the goddess :
and for her rashness, has been doomed, as yet, to turn
unceasingly in a mazy wheel. Nor is her loss of free-
dom to be chiefly deplored. Unfortunate Belgium;
ill-fated Poland; unhappy Swiss; deluded Genoese,
we mourn more for you. The genius of your coun-
tries is fled, we know not whither ! Your fortunes will
be remembered by nations, in far distant ages, as so-
lemn cautions to trust no friend, who has discarded all
principle, and rely upon no earthly power, which pro-
mises to give, what it must first destroy.

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 295

While we are thus lead by the proclamation, to ad-
vert to the dealings of providence towards the nations
of the earth, the contemplation of their calamities
should increase our gratitude, for the ptace and civil
privileges which we are permitted to enjoy. If we
have in our country, any hard earned wealth, which
might be plundered ; if there be in it any virtue, which
might be oppressed ; or infancy and age which might
unresistingly bleed; if there be any chastity, which
might be ruined, or domestic joys which might be
torn from us ; if we have any altars which might he
demolished, or temples which might be defiled, then
have we reason to bless and adore, the sovereign ruler
of the universe, that our nation has not been involv-
ed in the horrors and miseries of the war, which has
desolated, and still threatens to desolate, the most po-
pulous parts of the globe. The skirts of its clouds
have, once and again, been curling towards our shores,
but his gracious breatii hath turned them away. How
long this shall be the case, we are unable to say. But
this we know, that his good providence can restrain
the provocations and injuries of misguided, or design-
ing powers ; and that the way to deserve a continu-
ance of our peace and freedom, is, to be grateful to
God, that we jiave hitherto enjoyed them, and to use
them soberly, in advancing his glory, and the virtue
and happiness of our species.

Again. We are called upon by the proclamation to
render thanks to God, that though he has seen fit to
visit some of our cities with pestilence, he has stayed
the hand of tlie destroyer, and not suffered the people
to be destroyed utterly. When Moses rehearsed to the
chosen people, tiie blessings which they had received
of the Most High, ho led them to consider in their
hearts, that " as a father chastcneth his son, so the
Lord tiieir God had chastened tliem." Awful, indeed,
is the minister of death, which has " walked in dark-
ness," through many parts of oiu' land. Bui', is there

296 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

not a cause? Alas! there are spots upon thy gar-
ments, my country ; thou hast departed from thy puri-
ty. A little reflection will convince us, that if the
Deity, in a national view, regards the character and
conduct of a people, we have deserved heavy dispen-
sations at his hand. Has our country exhibited that
scene of harmony, sobriety, and order ; of chastity,
righteousness, and piety, which a country so favoured
and enlightened, ought to exhibit ? Our consciences
tell us it has not. Though we have been blessed w ith
the purest, and most perfect combination of freedom
with government, we have been factious and dissatis-
fied. Though the Almighty has raised up for us a
host of worthies, as great and good as ever protected
and adorned a nation, we have mistrusted and slan-
dered them. A si)irit of calumny and contention,
vices of the blackest hue, has prevailed, when (juiet-
ness and deference to superior wisdoni, \\ hen love
and charity and concord should have been our delight.
Though we are distinguished by the presence of reli-
gion, in its most incorruptcd slate, we have not enter-
tained it w itii that affection and respect, which such a
guest, from the courts of iieaven, deserves. Our ears
ha\ e sometimes turned from tiic voice of the charmer,
to listen to the blandishments of a dissolute philoso-
phy. We have harboured the works, and iionoured
the patrons, of infidelity. When, with indignaHt faith
we should have shaken the viper from our hands, we
held it, and pressed it to the bosom of our country ;
and entirely owe it to the grace and protection of the
Almighty, that its venom has not poisoneil the whole
body. Thougli we have been prospered in our agri-
cultural, commercial, and mechanic pursuits, beyond
all example, we have forgotten the God who giveth
power to get wealth. His sabbaths are profaned, and
his laws neglected. We have yielded ourselves to
luxury and efteminaey ; and there is cause to fear, that
the mass of the coeimunitv. are much more intent

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 297

upon securing to themselves vain, and polluting plea-
sures, than upon honouring their Creator, and obtain-
ing a place in his kingdom. Under these circum-
stances, instead of murmuring that he hath visited us
with pestilence, we have reason to exclaim, " It is of
the Lord's mercies, that wc are not consumed." He
hath, indeed, chastened us, but not " according to our
sins." " In the midst of judgement, he hath remem-
bered m(3rcy." In some to\\ns, and particularly in
our own, he hath greatly blessed the exertions of the
citizens to arrest, in its progress, tlie insidious disease.
In others, he has excited a spirit of compassion and
benevolence, towards the wretched sufferers, and thus,
has conv ertcd the affliction into an occasion of calling
into action, some of the choicest virtues of the human
heart. And when all hearts were failing them for
fear, he hath been ready to hear our prayers, and hath
graciously called to the destroying angel; "It is
enough; stay now thine hand." For this restoration
of health, to the mourning cities of our land, praise
should wait upon our God in Zion. We who escaped
from peril ; we, who live, while many more virtuous
and useful than ourselves are perished, should bless the
God of our health, and sing of his righteousness.

Further. We are exliortt?d in the proclamation, to
render thanks to God, for the provision which has
been made for the sustenance of man and beast. In
no country, perhaps, are the seasons and the elements,
more friendly to man, than in this which we inhabit.
While there is occasion enough for the toils of the
husbandman, to keep him in the wholesome habits of
industry, his labour receives, generally, a sure and
sufficient reward. Seldom does the hurricane blast
his prospects, or famine stalk over his fields, spreading
dismay. The seasons perform their round in constant
and beautiful order, and harvest brings with its gener-
ous countenance, the causes of thanksgiving and fes-
tivity. When we advert to the occurrences of the

VOL. n. ■ 38

298 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

year past, and observe the dreadful Tornado laying
some places waste, and in others, the earth yawning
and swallowing up multitudes alive, with what thank-
ful hearts should we bless the Lord, for this good
land which he hath given us.

Unwearied, too, is the Almighty in his active muni-
ficence. He rides forth gloriously in the sun; he de-
scends silently in the dew; by the influence of his
power, he secretly fertilizes the earth, that " all things
living may be filled with plenteousness." There is
something sublimely affecting in the thought, that
though infinitely happy in himself, this great and glo-
rious Being, is constantly engaged in providing the
nourishment, and promoting the joy, of his extensive
family. Amongst us he has not left himself without
witness. Although he gave not his rain in the usual
abundance, yet has the fig-tree blossomed, and fruit
has been in the vine; the labour of the olive has not
failed, and the fields have yielded meat; the flocks are
not cut off from the fold, and there are herds in the
stall. To abuse these bounties of the Almighty, or
even to receive them without discerning, and adoring
his munificent hand, would ])e to make ourselves
utterly unworthy of them. The heathens had their
offering to Ceres. The Jews waved their first fruits
before Jeliovah. And unworthy are the people to be
callod Christians, who feel no gratitude, and express
no praise, when the benevolent Creator hath " crown-
ed the year with his goodness."

Another cause for which we are exhorted to give
thanks is, that the means of education are extended
and multiplied. In any region it is pleasant to behold,
and honourable to promote, the expansion and im-
provement of the faculties, with which man is en-
dowed. But, in countries like ours, this is a thing of
very groat importance. It is equally true that, a peo-
ple must be ignorant, before they can be quietly ensla-
ved, and tliat they must be well informed, before they

PUBLIC THANKSGIVING. 299

can enjoy freedom. Hence, in some of the ancient
republics, the education of the rising generations was
made a public care. And hence, under all republican
governments, the cultivation of the mind and manners,
the diffusion of knowledge and civilization, is a matter
of primary consequence. It must, therefore, afford
pleasure to every patriotic American, to behold the
Seminaries of Learning multiplied, and the means of
education facilitated, in all parts of his yet infant
country. Of such great importance are our Schools,
Academies, and Colleges, and so rapidly do they in-
crease, that we may apply to them a prophecy which
related, originally, to a much higher blessing. " The
wilderness, and solitary place shall be glad for them;
and the desert shall," through them, " rejoice and
blossom as the rose." There is, perhaps, no place
upon our globe, in which an ordinary education is
more generally acquired, or acquired with more faci-
lity, than in New-England. It is humiliating, how-
ever, to confess, that in this our state, this momentous
subject has received little public attention. We live
in a town, in which there are upwards of seven thou-
sand inhabitants, and, consequently, many poor and
some rich; and yet, we behold not in it, a single
school, free to the children of all classes, and sup-
ported by common consent. The speaker would not
willingly be thought to intrude upon departments,
which do not belong to him. But, conceiving that
morals, and true religion, are very dependant upon
education, as well as the preservation of freedom, and
national prosperity, he would be negligent of his duty,
if he did not avail himself of the opportunity to deplore
the indifference to so important a subject, in this little
portion of his country. At the same time, it is highly
gratifying, and a cause for great thankfulness to God,
that the diffusion of knowledge is so general, and the
means of education so extended and multiplied in the
land, as to render the good sense of the people, the

300 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

final dependance of those, who calculate the variations
of public opinion, and the possibilities of future events.
This is as high an encomium as can be passed upon
a nation; and we know of but one evidence, so great,
that it is highly favoured of the Lord.

Which brings us to the last, and crowning blessing,
for which the proclamation calls upon us to give
thanks, viz: that the Book of divine truth is open
before us, and that we read and hear the glad tidings
of salvation. Some religion, every associated people
upon earth must possess. It is a pillar, without
which, no civil society can stand. How happy are
we, in having a religion which reaches the heart;
whose awful sanctions affect the ruler as well as the
subject; which rests upon the basis of its reasonable-
ness, and its evidences; and, compared with whose
adaptation to the necessities and wishes of man, the
properties of all other religions have their origin, and
insufficiency, betrayed. The gospel is the choicest
blessing, which God lias bestowed upon the inhabitants
of this miserable world. In our national capacity, it
is the best safeguard of the subject's rights, and the
strongest security of the magistrate's fidelity; it is the
surest source of public virtue, of order, of elevated
habits and manners; and it is the most precious pledge
of divine favour. To each of us, in our individual
capacity, who can estimate its worth! It " is a lamj)
to our feet, and a light to our paths;" it is the balm of
our sorrows, and the staff of our hopes ; as an angel
from heaven, cheering us on our way, it guides us
through the perplexed and thorny paths of this unsat-
isfactory life, to a state of rest, and glorious immor-
tality. This gospel we enjoy in its purest state. No
sword inculcates its authority; no stake explains its
doctrines. It comes to us, as it came from Jesus, in
the dignity of its own truth, and in the power of its
own efficacy. Happy for us, if we faithfully appre-
ciate its value. Yea, happy for our country, Ix'vond

PUBLIC THANKSQIVI>'G. 301

calculation, if neglect of its principles, or contempt of
its Author, do not cause it to be taken away, nor im-
impaired vvitli human corruptions.

Such, my brethren, are the blessings for which we
are assembled to praise the Author and giver of them
all. " Great," indeed, " is the sum of them." What
return shall we make unto the Lord for his goodness;
wherewith shall we repay his love ? Alas! we have
nothing which we can give him, but our hearts; we
have nothing to offer him, but our imperfect ser-
vices.

We are bound, with gratitude and praise, to attri-
bute our blessings to their true source, the loving kind-
ness of our heavenly Father. This, we do in the act
of thanksgiving, if our hearts originate what our lips
express. And in the grateful overflow of praise to
your Maker, you will manifest your sincerity, by
])eneficence to his children. While with decent festi-
vity, and temperate pleasure, you enjoy the viands of
the day, a Christian joy will not suffer you to be un-
unmindful of those, to whom the relics of your loaded
boards, will be a welcome feast.

Next to praise, and essential to it, is steady rever-
ence of the JMost High. This, you will manifest
nationally by tlie public protection, and liberal sup-
port, of his word and institutions; by preferring the
unchangeable principles of his law, to all human policy
and immoral expedients; by advancing none to offices
of honour and trust, especially to stations so elevated
as that which the providence of God has made vacant
in this state, who, in principle or in practice, despise
his word and disregard his name, and, above all, by
aspiring after such a national character, as we can
believe he will approve. In your individual capaci-
ties, you will manifest it by being uniformly righteous
before him ; " walking in all his commandments and
ordinances blameless."

302 PUBLIC THANKSGIVING.

Finally. Whether we consider the character of the
Deity as pourtrayed, in his works and judgements, and
revealed in his word; or contemplate our own situa-
tion with regard to our physical, social, and moral
state, the greatest cause of joy we have, is found in
the truth, that God is the Governor of the world. It
is our staff; the anchor of our souls; our only rational
ground of safety, contentment, and happiness. The
contemplation of it, should fill us with holy enthusi-
asm, and the remembrance of it, incite us to exclaim
with the Royal Psalmist: " Enter into his gates with
thanksgiving, and into his courts vtith praise: be
thankful unto him, and bless his name."

SERJION LXXm.

ON DEATH.

Job, vii. 16.

I would not live alway,

1 HERE is nothing to which human nature is more
averse, than to dissolution. Death presents himself to
the imagination of every man, clothed with terrors.
He finds in most men, feelings that recoil at his ap-
proach, and thoughts, that regret his existence. Ex-
cept the few, whom religion hath made "immoveable,"
and the few whom sorrow hath rendered desperate,
all men are prone to look upon death, as the greatest
of all terrestrial evils. Yet, it is an event which, to
every man, is unavoidable. To die, is the doom of
us all. We all, my brethren, shall be called to submit,

304 ON DEATH.

in our turns, to that fate, which our nature so obsti-
nately dreads. If, then, there are any considerations,
which may reconcile us to this unavoidable doom,
blessed is the wisdom Avhich suggests them ; happy is
the prudence which engraves them on the tablet of the
heart! They will break, the most gloomy bondage of
man. They will correct the most bitter ingredient, in
the cup of his allotments.

To the evils to be encountered in passing through
the valley of death, Chr'stianity furnishes many, and
sufficient antidotes. But, to the existence of this
valley in our way, we must also be reconciled. There
are considerations which, when pondered with a
Christian spirit, render us resigned to the transitori-
ness of this present life, and enable us to say with the
venerable Job, " I would not live alway." Some of
these considerations it is the object of this discourse
lo bring to your notice. yVnd hapi)y shall I be, if,
through the divine assistance, 1 may suggest any
thoughts to your minds, which may reconcile you to
the necessity of your own dissolution, or to the deaths
of those who are gone before you.

In the first i)lace, then, let me observe, that a due
respect to the divine will, will deter us from wishing
to " live always." " It is appointed unto men once
to die," and this appointment is made, by the wise and
benignant Father of the universe. Our life is not
made transient, by any malignant power. It is the
same good Being who hath brought us into existence,
and leads us through the different stages of life, that
conducts us into " the valley of the shadow of death."'
Our dissolution is a part of that economy, by which he
accomplishes his purposes with the human race.

Now, why should we turn with regret from any
allotment, to which it is the will of God we should
submit? Do we deem it unhappy, that to the light
and activity of day, the darkness and sleepiness of
night succeeds? Do we complain tliat the year, which

ON DEATH. 305

has been enlivened with the several charms of Spring,
Summer, and Autumn, is terminated with the drea-
riness of Winter? No. Our confidence in the wis-
dom of the Supreme Being teaches us, that night as
well as day, that winter as well as summer, is neces-
sary in its place; that the vicissitudes which he hath
ordained to the hours, and the months, are productive
of the greatest natural benefits. Why, then, should we
repine at the vicissitudes which he hath appointed to
the generation of men ? The same wisdom, which,
at the close of the day, requires us to lose ourselves
in the sleep of night, calls us at the close of life, to
rest in the grave. The same God who giveth the
earth in the end of the year, to be bound with the
fetters of winter, leaves life, when its spring, its sum-
mer, and its autumn have elapsed, to be bound awiiile
in the insensibility of death. The purposes of God,
which are dearer to every good man than any thing
else, are as much carried on by our dissolution, as by
our birth, or by our progress through any other stages
of our being. The tomb as well as the cradle, we
may safely presume, is meet for the display of his
power. Death, were it not subservient to his glory,
and fit and necessary for the creatures who are made
subject to it, would not have place in any part of the
dominions of God. That I must die, may, in itself,
be an awful consideration. But that I must die, con-
sidered as the appointment of the gracious Being who
made me, claims my cheerful acquiescence. For
whatever may be the views of the Almighty with re-
gard to mankind, and I have evidences enough that
they are views of benignity and love, the methods by
which he pursues them, I may feel assured, are the
fittest and most proper which coukl have been chosen,
and are parts of the scheme by which he is accom-
plishing the happiness of his saints, and the greatest
possible good of the universe.
VOL. II. 39

306 ~ ON DEATH.

There is, indeed, in a submission to the laws, t»
which the all-wise Creator hath subjected our nature,
both safety and virtue. No man, who considers the
wisdom from which they have their oriiiin, and the
ends to which they are directed, would wish an ex-
emption from them. It is enough to reconcile us to
our mortality, that it is the will of God. That obli-
gation to duty which is upon a child ; that obligatioa
to obedience which is upon a subject; that oblii;ation
to submission which is upon a creature; that claim to
confidence which wisdom, like the Deity's, may as-
sert; that title to unqualified reliance which goodness,
like our Maker's, possesses, all cons|)ire, when God hath
limited our jiresent life, to restrain us from wishing to
" live always." Is death punitive ? It is not more than
we have deserved ? Is it, as we are taught, sent in
mercy? Let us not dare to dispute its expediency.
Whether it proceed from justice, or from mercy, or
from both, the good man knows that it is his duty, and
also his safety, to be entirely at the disposal of the Al-
mighty. It may be, that through an instinctive affec-
tion for being, he may, in the hour of infirmity, shrink
from what has the appearance of a destruction of ex-
istence, andbe ready to exclaim, " if it be possible, let
this cup pass from me." But when he considers, the
preference which the divine will ought to have to his
own wishes; that, that must be fittest and best, which
the Almighty hath ordained, reason and religion will
unite in correcting his wish, and the last exi)res$ion of
his lips will be, " not my will, but thine be done."

Again. We may be reconciled to the necessity of
dying, by considering who have passed through the
gate of death. " Abraham is dead, and the proj)hets!"
The apostles are dead, and the good men of every
age! Surely, it is not a fate so much to be dei)recated.
to which these favourites of heaven have submitted!
Surely, we need not be shocked at entering the path,
which these worthies have trodden ! It is no inconsidera-

ON DEATH. 307

ble ])Oon, that death will dissipate the centuries that in-
tervene, and make us companions of those, who have
been the friends of God, and the bri°;ht models of faith,
and virtue, to nrankind. Our kindred, also, are dead;
our fathers, it may be, and our dear mothers; and the
friends, whom we have loved as our own souls. In a
world which they have left for ever, who would always
remain ? To the state, to which they have passed, who
does not sometimes solace himself with the expecta-
tion, of one day ^oing ? Death, e;athers us to our fathers.
Death, restores to us the friends of whom he had de-
prived us. Death, brinies the child to the long absent
parent, he brings the parent ^to lier often lamented
child. Pleasant to nature is the thought, even of
mingling our ashes with the ashes of our ancestors,
and sharing with our kindred, the repose of the grave.
But ravishing to the eye of faith, is the prospect of
rejoining their spirits in better worlds, and winging,
with them, the flights of immortality. .Jesus, too, our
blessed Redeemer, he hath passed through the gate of
death. And siiall we not choose to drink of the cup
of which he hath drank! The vale which he hath con-
secrated by his own presence, shall we be averse to
enter? There is a noble satisfaction in sharing the fate
of the worthy. There is a comfort, a joy, in being
conformed in our fortunes to those, whom we vene-
rate or love. How much, then, in the contemplation
of dissolution, must it bend the Christians mind to his
doom, to recollect, that his Lord summitted to die.

I know not, whether there is not a generous sentiment
in human nature, which amidst the universal mortality
of mankind, would deter a noble mind from being
willing to " live always," the solitary survivor of the
desolation of his species. But this 1 know, that if we
are fait.'iful, death introduces us to better company,
than that from which he takes us ; and that those whom
we leave here, will presently follow, to be added, if
they are worthy, to the same society. It is by death.

308 ON DEATH.

that we arc most eminently brought to an " innumera-
ble company of angels," and to " the general assembly
and Church of the firstborn," and to "the spirits of just
men made perfect," and to Jesus the mediator. Who,
then, would remain always upon the earth, to be se-
parated by the " partition" of the flesh, from his for-
mer contemporaries, and the righteous of every age,
and to be looked upon, perhaps, by the beings of later
years, as a stranger and an intruder ? Better it is, to
share in our turns, of the common allotment ""of our
race. Better it is, when we have served our own ge-
neration, according to the will of God, to fall on
sleep.

I add, thirdly, that the condition 'of this present
state is such, that no Christian can wish to live in it al-
ways. Not that it becomes us, to fmd fault with the
circumstances of our present existence. For what it
is, a journey, a pil.:;riniage, a transient abode, God has
furnished it with accommodations, suitable and plea-
sant, which ought to be noticed by us with cheerful-
ness, and used with thankfulness. But it is a happi-
ness, that we have not here our everlasting abode ;
that this is notour rest. For to the best men, it is a
state of temptation, and difiicult warfare. It is cov-
ert^d witii snares ; it is filled witli devious paths; and
we are in it frail to resist, and inclined to wander. With
the most earnest desire to walk with God, the good man
fnids himself, many times, falling. He aspires, with all
the ardour of faith, after spiritual excellence; but, alas!
He feels himself weighed down by this body of sin.

It is problematical, whether our virtue oi" our trials,
would prevail, if our probation were j)rolcnged ; but
discretion would seem to plead for the shoitest expo-
sure to evil. The i)resent is, also, to the wisest of
men, a state of uneasy ignorance. Confined is our
knowledge. Fettered are the noble faculties of our
souls. Of God, and the unbounded works of God;
of being, and the infinite modifications of be'ng; of

ON DEATH. 309

truth, and the glorious beauties, the innumerable appli-
cations of truth, we can here possess but a very im-
perfect knowledge. And, in all probability, a prolon-
gation of our earthly residence, would not render us
proportionably wiser. Successions of great minds,
have taken up the thread of investigation, each, where
his predecessor left it; and, yet, how little way, in the
course of ages, has one been able to carry it beyond
another. In these tabernacles of flesh, we can " know
but in part." From the most exalted pleasures of
intellijient beings; from the expansion and gratifica-
tion of the noblest faculties of our nature, we are, in a
great measure, restrained in our present state. It is
evidejitly an infancy, in which we can acquire but the
rudiments of knowledge. There are glorious heights,
there are unbounded extents of wisdom and of won-
ders, but, while we are confined to earth, and encum-
bered with flesh, we cannot attain unto them. This
life is, also, to the happiest, and to all men, a state of
vexation and sorrow. Ah ! where shall I look, to see
human nature unaccompanied by woe! The cries of
infancy; the disappointments of youth; the tribula-
tions of manhood ; the tears of old age, all proclaim
that, in this world, we are " born to trouble." No
man finds in it, the satisfaction he promises himself.
Every man may be seen, in some part or other of his
path, musing in sadness over the burden of his sor-
rows; perhaps, saying to his soul, if not to those who
pass by, " all is vanity, and vexation of spirit." It is
only in the grave that our cares, disappointments, and
troubles, will be terminated. There, though the ocean
of life be thrown into tempests, the peaceful slumber-
ers hear not the roar of its waves. There, when the
sky of the living is overcast with blackness, the happy
dead see not the terrors of the clouds. There, sleeps
in peace, the venerable Father, whom the profligacy of
his sons had pierced through with many sorrows.
And there, the fond Mother ceases, at last, to weep for

310 ON DEATH.

her children, who could " not be comforted, because
they were not." There, too, the mind of the Patriot
is no more perplexed for the fate of his country ; and
there, the heart of the Priest, no longer trembles for
the Ark of God. " There," says Job, " the wicked
cease from troubling ; and there, the weary are at rest.
There, the prisoners rest together: they hear not the
voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there;
and the servant is free from his master."

Let it, then, be remembered of death, that it re-
leases us from the temptations, ignorance, and sorrows
of this probationary existence ; sorrows and tempta-
tions, to which we may resign ourselves, when we can
consider them, as incidents of a journey to a better
life; but which, if we were doomed to " live always"
among them, might dishearten our virtue, and break
our spirits. It was principally with a view to the suffer-
ings, and unsatisfactoriness of life, that the good Pat-
riarch exclaimed, *' 1 would not live alway." And it
was, probably, with a foresight of the sins and the
miseries to which man, when he had fallen, would be
exposed, by a perpetual continuance in the flesh, that
his merciful Creator forbade him access to the tree of
life, and shortened his days. It is true, in this pre-
sent world, we may look to tlie Cross, and be healed
of the wounds which sin inflicts; we are fed in the
ordinances of the gospel, with manna from heaven;
and in the influences of the Spirit, there floweth water
from the unfailing rock, wherewith we may be re-
freshed. But it is, nevertheless, a wilderness state.
We are beset in it with dangers, and incumbered with
cares. The Canaan of our rest, the land of peace and
pros|)erity, which our God hath promised us, is not on
this side of the grave. Till we have passed the stream,
which separates us from heaven, we are wanderers at
best; we sojourn amidst difliculties and sorrows; and
the progress from one stage of our journeyings to ano-

ON DEATH. 311

ther, cliangps our stations, without diminishing our
disappointments, or our cares.

And here, I am brought to observe, in the fourth
place, that a just ronsideratign of the future life, will
reconcile us entirely to the transitoriness of this. If
to die, were to cease to be, we might, with a despe-
rate tenacity, cling to this present existence, chequered
and unsatisfactory as it is. But our citizenship is in
heaven. Our life, all that is worthy to be called our
life, is with Christ in God. We have, beyond the
regions of death, an inheritance of immortality. Here,
we are probationers, labourers, soldiers; there, we
enter upon the fruition of our reward. Here, we are
in the porch; there, we are admitted into the temple
of the Almighty. Here, humiliation and mortality
are our portion; there, there is laid up for us a crown
of life. Here, "we see through a glass, darkly;"
there, we shall see wisdom, and justice, and mercy,
and all the fair offspring of the Deity, face to face.
Here, in the blessed Jesus, though we see him not, we
anxiously believe; there, he will take us to a partici-
pation of his glory, and we shall " follow the Lamb
whither soever he goeth." Here, we hear of redemp-
tion from sin, and ignorance, and death; there, it shall
be fully enjoyed. Here, we are separated from the
vision of our best Benefactor, him, whom it is the
fullest expression of happiness to behold; there, we
shall see God. Who, then, in this region of darkness,
and infirmity, would " live always r" When we fasten
the eye of our faith, upon that state of knowledge,
purity, and unsullied happiness, which is reserved in
heaven for the faithful, can we wonder a moment, at
St. Paul's declaration ; " I have a desire to depart,
and to be with Christ." Where is the Christian, who
has " done justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly
with his God," that may not adopt the language of the
Apostle; " To me to die is gain?" Surely, our aver-
sion to dissolution will be subdued; yea, we shall

312 ON DEATH.

rejoice in the transitoriness of this imperfect state,
when we appreciate the superior felicities, and trans-
cendent glories, of that heavenly existence, to which,
through the grace of the Redeemer, death shall intro-
duce us.

For let me remark, in the last place that, by his
death, the " Captain of our salvation" hath overcome
death, and made the passage through the grave, the
ordinary entrance to the reward of our inheritance.
" That which thou sowest is not quickened, except
it die." The seed must perish in the earth, before
the beauties and the glories of the plant will appear.
In like manner, our bodies must decay in the grave,
before we shall be clothed with immortality. Of his
sceptre, Jesus hath deprived death; the nature of the
King of Terrors he hath changed; it is through his
domain, gloomy indeed once, but now, enlightened
with the light of life, that opened the i)assage to this
heavenly kingdom. Of this passage, Jordan was typi-
cal to God's ancient people; and it is typical to us.
Its waves, to the eye of nature, may appear terrible.
But the " Ark of the Covenant" passes before us, and
the waters are rolled back on the right hand and on
the left. On the opposite shore, we shall not regret,
the wilderness we have left, but our souls will be filled
with " songs of deliverance."

You see, then, my Christian friends, that the tran-
sitoriness of the present life, is proper and eligible,
because it is the will of God; that in dying, we sub-
mit to the fate, to which the greatest and best, have
submitted, and go to our fathers, our kindred, and the
righteous of every age, in the same way which they, and
which Jesus our Master, hath trodden ; that the state
which w^e leave, though good and suitable as a state
of probation and pilgrimage, is yet, a state of tempta-
tion, ignorance and sorrow; that the life beyond the
grave, is nobler and better, exalting us to immortality,
to perfect knowledge, holiness, and happiness; to en-

ON DEATH.

313

larged acquaintance with God, and full enjoyment of
Christ; and that the monarch of the intervening grave,
is dismantled of his terrors, by that power of the Lord
Jesus, which hath overcome death, and " is able to sub-
due all things unto himself." What a body of motives
is here, to induce you, when your Creator shall call
you out of this life, to depart willingly ! Lay them up
in your memories. The hour is coming, when each
one of you will need them. Bless God, that he hath
called you to the knowledge of truths, which may sup-
port you under every contemplation of that mortality,
of which you carry the consciousness about you, and
which, is so often brought to your remembrance, by
the deaths of one and another of your friends.

And these same considerations are of powerful effi-
cacy, to render us resigned to the departure of those
who are called before us. It is tranquillizing to know,
that they have died by the will of God. It is sooth-
ing to consider, that they are joined to their ancestors,
and the spirits of the just. When we consider the
dangers and miseries of the state from which they are
taken, we shall be restrained from wishing them back.
It will much cheer us, under the sense of our own
bereavement, to consider, that they are gone to the
bosom of their God. There is holy submission incul-
cated, by the comforting truth, that " He who raised
up Christ from the dead, will also quicken their mor-
tal bodies." With these thoughts, then, let the rela-
tions and the friends of departed excellence, derive
consolation, and learn submission. Let it be the chief
concern of surviving friends, to have their affliction
sanctified to their souls. And let us all, my hearers,
when we see the aged and the 3'oung, and people of eve-
ry age, passing in constant succession out of the world,
be induced to set our own houses in order, and to re-
member, that we, too, must die. Let us live the life of
faith, and obedience; haying respect in all ways to the
revealed will of our God; that when our summonses

VOL. If. 40

314 ON DEATH.

shall arrive, the considerations which will reconcile the
good man to dissolution, may be ours, and we may be
able to say, " Lord, here am I, do with me as seemeth
unto thee good."

SERMON LXXIV.

ON DEATH.

Isaiah, Ixiv. 6.

We all do fade as a leaf.

1. HIS metaphor of the Prophet's, is one of the most
beautiful which can be found, in the sacred volume.
How strikingly does it describe the perishableness of
man. In the spring of his being, he shoots forth ten-
derly, and gradually expands his beauty and vigour to
the view. In different individuals, his form and beau-
ties are varied, according to the w^ill of the divine
Creator. He continues awhile, sometimes quiet in
the sunbeams, and sometimes shaken by the winds.
But soon he begins to change. Some blight, or
worm, or time's corroding influences, impairs his
beauty and life. He withers, dies, and falls into the
dust. " We all do fade as a leaf."

316 ON DEATH.

The metaphor of the Prophet, marks the certainty
of every one's death. Every leaf, whatever its form,
or properties, or beauty, must eventually decay. None
is exempt. Even the evergreen, whicii stands through
all the seasons of the year, has its period at which it
must fail, and resign its {)lace to a succeeding genera-
tion. '' It is appointed unto all men once to die."
And one after another, whole generations of men,
appear and vanish, like the transient foliage of suc-
ceeding years.

This beautiful metaphor, also, reminds us of the
uncertainty of the time, of any individual's death.
Leaves fade of every age. And which of them is our
peculiar emblem, we are unable to ascertain. Some,
stand through \\ inter, verdant amidst the snows and
frosts of age. Some, are fitted by nature to enjoy and
adorn a short summer. Some, the concealed moth
secretly and unseasonably consumes. And some, are
nipped from the stock as soon as they appear. We
are unable to say, which of these fates shall be our
own. Few, very few, however, are the leaves which
survive the autumn of the year. It is much more
probable, that we shall be cut down in the midsummer,
yea, or in the very spring of life, than that we shall
reach the winter of old age. And if we should stand
through all the seasons, how soon is the whole year
gone !

But, this instructive metaphor suggests to us, the
renovation which shall follow our decay. Nothing
perishes in the material world. There is, indeed, a
death of vegetative nature. But, it is only for a sea-
son. Every thing fades to be renewed. The leaves
which are fallen, sh.all in the spring be all replaced.
The Almiglity " turneth" them " to destruction; again
he saith, come again" ye offspring of my power :
when, lo, th(? tree which seemed desolate, is reanimat-
ed ; and Irom the earth, with which its faded leaves
were mingled, llierc arises a new covering for it,-

ON DEATH. 317

of transcendent freshness and beauty.- Thus, in the
material world, decay is invariably succeeded by life.
The grain dies in the earth, and is quickened. The
sun which sets, rises. The leaves which fall, are re-
stored in wonderful order, and each, in its own pecu-
liar form and properties. And who, that contemplates
these things; and observes the power and economy of
God, in the natural world, can doubt his ability or
willingness, to preserve, in the moral and spiritual
world, the nobler beings to whom he has given exis-
tence ! Who, that beholds all men fading as a leaf,
and reflects upon their superior endowments can
avoid embracing the hope, that there shall be for them,
a glorious spring, in which the Almighty Father
shall say, " come again, ye children of men." Bles-
sed be his name, that " he hath begotten us" to an as-
surance of this " lively hope, by the resurrection of
Jesus Christ from the dead." The gospel confirms,
and enlarges the virtuous expectations of nature. By
its light, we see a beautiful analogy in all the operations
of the Most High. The do(;trine of our immortality,
converts every plant into a preacher. Even the affect-
ing remark of the Prophet, that " we all do fade as a
leaf," reminds us that we shall be renewed; and, dis-
tinguished lot! renewed in a resemblance to the tree of
life, whose leaves neither change nor fall, but flourish
for ever in immortal beauty, by the river of the city
of God.

Having thus developed the truths, which the Pro-
phet has so beautifully wrai)ped in the text, let us ask
ourselves, what influence they should have upon our
lives ?

And, in the first place, do " we all fade as a leaf?"
What a foundation is this for humility. We are prone
to be [)roud of our wisdom, our beauty, our accom-
plishments, our strength, and our wealth; and to nou-
rish, enjoy and display these, constitutes a great part
of the business of mankind. But, what a satire upon

318 ON DEATH.

all this, is the text ! How should it check all the pride
of life, to know, that it must end in the abasement of
the grave ! Come ye beautiful and young ; ye wise,
and accomplished ; descend into the cliambers where
sleep the dead. Open that coffin. Lovely in death is the
beauteous ruin it contains. But ah ! on that pale
cheek was once the roses hue ! That eye, once spark-
led with the diamond's lustre. Those limbs, were
once the seats of elegance and dignity. Alas, how
changed! Faded as the fallen leaf; and hastening to
be converted into dust! Are you proud of your per-
sonal accomplishments? Have the honors and charms
of this life, captivated your heart? Remember that
to this state, you must presently come.

Again. Do mankind fall like the leaves, of every
age, and can no one ascertain the time of his death?
Let us not presume ui)on our lives. Let us not flatter
ourselves, that the day of our dissolution is far distant.
It is blinding ourselves on the edge of a precipice. It
is refusing to listen to the voice of experience, and of
l)rovidence, while we yield ourselves to the delusion
of our hearts. For what ground have we, on which to
think our lives are safe, which they had not, who arc
now no longer among the living ? Are we j'oung? So
were they. Are we healthy? So were they. Are
we useful in the world, and necessary to our families?
So were they. Are wc enlisted under the banners
of faith, and fortified with the armour of virtue ? So
were they. Yet, in the midst of life, they are cut down.
Their hopes and expectations in this world, are pe-
rished. They are snatched from the scenes, which
they seemed destined to beautify, for many years to
come, before they had expanded half their charms.
We are of the same substance with them. To the
arrows which pierced them, we are ever exposed.
And while we are busy in life, and letting our hearts
cheer us with many joys, the fatal shaft may be wing-
ing its way towards us. which shall lay us in the

ON DEATH. 319

grave. What a motive is this, to diligence and vvatch-
fuhiess! If we have yet an interest in the Redeemer's
kingdom to secure, what an inducement does the un-
certainly of life furnish, and do it " while if is called
to-day." The realities of eternity at stake, and the
probation in which they may be secured, liable to be
terminated with the passing hour ! *' Whatsoever thine
hand findfth to do, do it with all thy might, for there
is no wisdom, knowledge, nor device in the grave,
whither thou art hastening."

Once more. Are we destined, like the face of
nature, to be renovated after our decay? Let us not
be dismayed by our own mortality, nor by that of our
friends. The knowledge of a resurrection, is suffi-
cient to reconcile us to all the painful concomitants of
death. When our virtuous friends decay, the idea
that their spirits have ascended to the care and enjoy-
ment of their God, should alleviate the sting of our
bereavement. And in the anticipation of our own
dissolution, the spirits of Christians should be sup-
ported, by the prospect of the glory reserved with
Christ, and the assurance, that he " will never leave
them, nor forsake them." Our chief concern is,
while we are passing through this mutable state, to
lead a life of faith, and obedience; that in the last
day, we may not be gathered for the burning, but be
found among " the trees of righteousness, the planting
of the Lord," which he will glorify.

These are the truths suggested to our hearts, by the
affecting declaration, that " we all do fade as a leaf."
Ever and anon, is the providence of God enforcing his
Prophet's observation. And the continual removal of
acquaintance or friends, in the morning or meridian of
their days, teaches us all, the precariousness of the
life upon which we are prone to lavish our fondest
expectations. "The voice said, Cry. And he said,
What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the

320 ON DEATH.

goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field. The
grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of our
God shall stand for ever;" and this is the word wliich,
\)y the gospel, is preached unto you.

SERMON LXXV.

ON DEATH.

Isaiah, xl. 6, "7, 3.

The voice said, Cnj. And he said, What shall Icryf
All jlesh is f:ras.s; and all the goodliness thereof is
as the flower of the field. The grass wither eth; the
flower fadeth; because the spirit of the Lord bloweth
upon it. Surehj, the people is grass. The grass
withereth, the flower fadeth; but the word of our
God shall stand for ever.

Interesting and affecting passage! We feel,
blessed Spirit of the Highest, the truth of thy descrip-
tion ! We thank tiiee for tlie consolation, with which
thou hast kindly softened the shade, in this too just
picture of human fragility! Your hearts, my brethren.

VOT,. II. 41

322 ON DEATH.

are attuned to the contemplation of this subject; and
it will be my endeavour in discoursing from it, to set
before you, the vanity and transitoriness of the present
life; and the joy to be derived, amidst its changes and
decay, from the purport and certainty of " the word of
our God."

Ir is a humiliating lesson we have first to consider.
The love of ourselves is so strong; we, with so much
pride and ardour, exult in the possession of being; our
earthly projects arc formed and pursued, with such
high expectations; and we behold, with so much com-
placence, the attainments of the wise, the amiable,
and the acconiplishcd, that our spirits faint within us,
we are humbhui to the dust, when compelled to real-
ize, that man in all the glories of his best estate, is
but a transient beijig; that as a flower of the field, so
he flourisheth.

The lesson is painful, as well as humiliating. There
are objects and pleasures which, with magnetic force,
hold us to earth. The actual possession of the pre-
sent existence, makes us anxious to jirolong it. We
form attachments, which are unavoidable; and the
severing of these, is the cutting of the heart-strings.
The endearments of our condition; the esteem of our
fellow men; the acquisition of the means of ha|)pi-
ness, or of usefulness, all bind us to life; and in our
friends, they delight us in their being, and make us
solicitous for its prolongation. Under these circum-
stances, the voice is chilling which proclaims in our
ears, " All flesh is grass." It comes like a blast over
the feelings and affections of nature. It is not till
age, or disease, has exhausted the strength to live, and
rendered "the grasshopi)er a burden;" or till the
world has lost its charms, and hope withdrawn her
bow from its clouds, that any but those, who seem
almost to have heaven in hand, can hear, without re-
luctance, that death is waiting his opportunity, to tear
them from all that is dear, and lay them in the dust.

OxN DEATH. 323

Hence it is, that men fiy from the contemplation of
their mortality. There is nothing on which their
attention is, with so much rliiTjculty, fixed. They
wish the hostile day, which shall dismantle them of
all their goodlincss, for ever distant; and what they
wish, almost believe. Rivetted to present objects,
deluded by the llattering aspect life assumes, proud of
their acquisitions and |^)ovvers, and entranced in their
joys, they care not to admit the mournful, mortifying
consideration, that the scene in which they are busy,
is a fleeting scene; its a(*tors perishable; and all its
charms and iilories, a vain sliovv.

let, there is no lesson we are more frequently called
to learn; none which tlie providence of God more im-
pressively inculcates; which experience teaches with
such pathos, and solemn repetition. What is the
funeral scene to which we are daily summoned? What
are the insignia of the places, in all ages, hallowed to
receive the dead? What the result of every sober
review of the y(ars we have past? Wliat, in a word,
are the annals of our race, but elucidations, affecting
elucidations, of the Prophet's metaphor? Men have
"come up as flowers, and been cut down; and never
have continued in one stay." Some, in the bud have
been nipt, and never opened their properties to the
light. Others, have expanded their graceful forms,
and begun to give their goodly fragrance to the world;
but, before noon, have shed their leaves, and died.
Others, have survived the day, but have decayed more
rapidly than they matured, and, shorn of their beauty,
have presently perished. Some few, stand through
the season ; but much do they fade, and suddenly van-
ish. The wind passeth over them, and they are gone;
and " the place which once knew them knoweth them
no more." All, in their turns, return to their dust.
The lowly, on whose plaiimess no eye bestows an ob-
serving look ; and the lofty, on whose goodliness ex-
pectation fastens its fondest notice, alike expand, to

324 ON DEATH.

perish. In no age; in no condition, may we fpol our-
selves secure from this inevitable decay. Do we trust
in our youth, or strength ; and rejoice that the current
yet moves sprightly in our veins? See here, while age
stands by and survives, the younc; and the i)roniisinc;
cut down, put into darkn<'ss at the bri:;ht midday of
life. Do we fortify ourselves with our wisdom, or
skill; or rely on our usefulness among men? See
there, the lamps of knowledge, which illumined the
world, put out; the skill, which could check disease
in others, unable to preserve itself; and im|)ortant
characters taken from the world, when it should seem,
they can least be spared. The destroying tyrant is
never at rest. All are exposed to his shafts. His
victims are often taken from the safest paths; and the
young and useful do most frequently magnify his tri-
umphs.

Not that we are to think, chance rules the destinies
of men. He only can extinguish life, who kindled it.
"The grass withereth, the llower fadeth, because the
Spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it." Both reason
and Scripture, refer us to the Deity as determining the
boundaries of every man's life. " He taketh away
their breath, and they die." " He changeth their
countenance and sendeth them away." " He destroy-
eth the hope of man."

It may well surprise us, to find death in his crea-
tion. Nothing can account for its dominion over the
fairest of his works, but the unfortunate transgression
of the parents of the race. Kxperienee confirms the
melancholy tale, which the Scriptures narrate. Na-
ture has found herself incumbered with a debt; all
ages have been subject to woes and deaths; \\hieh,
unless we renounce all belief in an active Sovereign,
must be considered as tokens of displeasure. Every
man carries in himself, the evidence of a fallen state;
for, though formed with cajiacities for (^t«'rnal |)rogres-
sion in virtue and happiness, and endacd by his Maker,

ON DEATH.. 325

with an unconquerable love of being, lie has within
him the punitory sentence, " dust thou art, and unto
dust thou shalt return."

Is all, then, fleeting that concerns man? Must the
bright charms of life be all dissolved? While the soul
fancies itself possessed of substantial being, and aspires
to a relation with eternity, is it connected only with
the passing moment? And nothing permanent but
mutability? If it were so, our hearts might sicken at
a life so vain. Appalled at death's dominion over the
works of God, we might be urged to ask, with Job, in
his anguish, " wherefore hast thou made all men for
nought?" The stupendous scenes and events, with
whicii we are conversant, would seem like vast ar-
rangements for no i)urpose; like mighty efforts for
no end. But this, is not, cannot be, the case. We
are recalled from the declaration of the perishableness
of man, to the certainty of the designs and promises
of God. " Tiic word of our God shall stand for
ever."

What this word is, may be easily ascertained. At
the mention of it, the Prophet is transported from his
mournful theme, to the times and achievements of the
Messiah. From the rapture with which he immedi-
ately hails the glad tidings of Zion; from the e\pli-
citness with w hich he speaks of the coming of the
Lord, and passes to the contemplation of him, in the
tender acts of his oftice; and from the termination of
his fervtnt strain in the assurance, that they who wait
on the Lord, shall renew their strength, and mount
uj) with wings as eagles; it is evident, he had in view,
the eternal ])urpose of God in the revelation of his
' Son. Indeed, an inspired Ai)ostle, having quoted the
passage which leads our thoughts, has remarked on
its concluding clause, " this is the word, which by the
gospel is preached unto you."

Now, the grand i)urport of the gospel is, to exhibit
death subdued, and open to man the prospect of eternal

326

ON DEATH.

life and glory. It proclaims to us the gracious deter-
mination of the Most High, to recover his fallen crea-
tures from that death, to whicii th.ey have become
subject; and by the counsels of his infinite wisdom,
and efforts of his Almighty power, to raise tiiem, from
glory to glory, to a full and perpetual enjoyment of
his presence and heavenly kingdom. Do we ask, how
the amazing design is to be accomplished ? His Son
is revealed, coming from the bosom of the Father, in
the greatness of his strength, to arrest the monarch of
the tomb, and break his sceptre ; to burst the prisons
which contain his victims, and strike off the fetters
with which they are bound ; and to unbar before then),
the portals of everlasting glory. Do we ask, how
we, who are passing to corruption, can be capacitated
for the benefits of the great behert? "Behold, he
shows us a mystery; we shall not all sh^ep, but we
shall all be changed; in a moment, in the twinkling of
an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet siiall sound,
and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we
shall be changed." The way is i)ointed out by his
infallible wisdom, and the means are furnished from
his exhaustless treasure; and all, who will avail them-
selves of the glorious salvation, by complying with its
conditions, have the joyful assurance, that when "the
earthly house of this their tabernacle is dissolved, they
have a building of God, an house not made with
hands, eternal in the heavens."

This is the infinite purpose of God, as revealed in
his word ; to free his offspring from the dominion of
death; that he may restore to them their resemblance
to the divine likeness, and exalt them to everlasting
life. To this gracious design. Time, from the com-
mencement of his flight, and the great movements of
the divine government, have had constant reference. In
its accomplishment, this visible scene, with all its
events and obscurities, shall issue, and the intentions
of the Almighty towards this part of his universe, have

ON DEATH. 327

their august completion. Immutable in his purposes,
and, " able" by his infinite power, " to subdue all
things to hiaiself," though men decay in sad succes-
sion, and no trace remains visible, of the life that has
fled ; though all nature seem subject to the ruthless
havoc of time; yea, though the earth should dissolve,
and the heavens with their host pass away, his coun-
sel shall stand, and lie will accomplish his pleasure;
his " word shall not pass away."

Here, then, is a permanent point; a rock of refuge
from the dismal mutability of every thing about us.
This system of change, tiiis scene of mortality, is con-
ducted by the unerring hand of the Most High. Out
of it shall spring the accomplishment of unfathom-
able designs. It is his steadfast purpose, to bring
the children whom he has chosen, to ineffable bliss and
glory, in his kingdom; "and, though after their skins,
worms destroy these bodies, yet in their flesh shall
they see God."

In this view of the transitoriness of our present
condition, our minds are tranquillized. Were wo
compelled to believe, that this short, delusive, being,
is our all ; that we must be stripped for ever of life,
of knowledge, of virtue, of all we hold dear ; and iu
the corruption of the grave, have the end of our exis-
tence; we well might fly from the thought of our fate.
It were sufficient to cast a gloom over every hour of
our lives! But, have we " a captain of salvation,"
appointed by the Highest? Is he " the resurrection
and the life?" And sliall those, who believe in him,
be brought through the vale of darkness, into the pre-
sence of his Father, and participation of his glory?
Then may we consider, without being overwhelmed
with the thought, that God will bring us to death, and
to " the house appointed for all living."

B-HJt it is in the dissolution of our friends, that we
feel most sensibly the vanity of life. When these dear
objects of our fond affections are taken away, we are

328 ON DEATH.

more deeply distressed by the perishableness of man.
even than when we contemplate our ow^i mortality.
And if death were their utter extinction, their decay
would, indeed, be insupportable. For who could
bear to think, that their hope, their love, and all their
goodly powers, were annihilated ; and they, for ever,
struck out from the works and care of God! Who
could sustain the reflection, that they are bound with
everlasting fetters; and shall slumber, senseless, in
their dark, mouldering beds, through the long, long,
endless, duration of eternity ! If ages shall revolve on
them without their awaking; if being shall continue
for ever, without their having any interest in it, alas
that we have known the objecrs, who have bound our
affections to their fate! But, blessed be God, we are
not left to these dishc^artening opinions. They are re-
deemed by him from death. Out of decay they shall
rise in a more glorious existence. His word " shall
stand for ever;" and it has declared, that they, who
have " washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb, "are passed from death imtolife;
and shall die no more. This is the description he has
given us of tiieir condition ; " they are before the throne
of God, and serve him day and nigiit in his temi)le ;
and he that sittetli on the throne shall dwell among
them. They shall hunger no more; neither thirst any
more ; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any
heat; for the Lamb, which is in the midst of the
throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living
fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes." Invaluable corrective of life's
bitterest sorrow ! With this antidote to the perisha-
bleness of man, we can support ourselves under the
departure of our Christian friends. Affection is con-
soled, by clinging to the idea of their eternal being;
and hope, brings a precious beam of comfort into the
bereaved bosom, in the sentiment of presently rejoin-
ing them, in their exalted state.

ON DEATH. 329

Indeed in the extensive field, in which the gospel
places us, the transient events of time; the perishable
life, with which we here delight us ; nay, this little
earth, on which we make a momentary stay, are in-
considerable objects. How do we rise above the
transitoriness of the present scene ; how do its hopes
and prospects, its joys and pursuits, sink in our esti-
mation, when we consider eternity as our sphere,
God as our portion, and heaven as our rest! When
we reflect on our rt^al condition and expectations;
when we behold in the achievements of the Redeemer
the point of death's spear blunted; and the cloud
which rendered mortality terrible, removed; when,
through the promises of the unfailing word, the glories
of our future destination burst upon our view, pure,
blissful, immortal, does not the dissolution of this
temporal life, seem but an incident to the mighty
whole? Are we not ready with the Apostle to ex-
claim, " O death, where is thy sting! O grave, where
is thy victory !"

From the contemplation of this subject we learn,
my heann^, with how little wisdom we rely on the
hopes, pursuits, and expectations of this vain world;
and how much it behoves us to attend to the perma-
nent concerns, which we have in the gospel. Is this
life fleeting as the breeze? Are all its charms and
glories, like the evening brilliance, transient; and fol-
lowed by darkness? Must we all fade like the grass,
and, divested of every temporal acquirement, lie down
in the dust? Then let us cease to use this state, as if
it were eternal, and its perishable joys, sufficient to
satisfy our desires. But shall " this corruptible put
on incorruption ; and this mortal put on immortality?"
Amidst the uncertainties of life, and rapid decays of
the generations of men, is there a steadfast purpose of
Jehovah, to bring many sons unto glory? By this, let
us hold ; and govern ourselves by the obligations it
imposes. Reflecting nature looks for something per-
voL. II. 42

330 ON DEATH.

manent. His word, like a rock unmoved by the
storms and fluctuations of life's ocean, offers itself to
our spirits, fluttering over the perilous scene; and on
it, we may rest; and feel ourselves safe, till his Al-
mighty arm comes to our deliverance.

Finally. As rational beings, capable of improving
the events which pass before us, it becomes us my
brethren, to consider the end of " all flesh," and seri-
ously to lay it to heart. To the young, the sprightly,
the busy votaries of the world, I'woukl call, and urge
them to awake from their dreams of vanity, to a
knowledge of the insufficiency of that happiness, which
is passing away. The objects you pursue, the thoughts
on which you rely, are lighter than vanity, and un-
worthy of your powers, compared with the views,
to which you may attain. Trust me, my friends, you
have immortal spirits, which death does not affect.
Lay hold of the means, of bringing them to a glory
and felicity which surpass your conception, that an
all-gracious God has fiirnislied in the sospel. Live
by its laws. Weigh soberly its claim to your reverence.
And through the merits of its Author, seek, in the
discharge of every religious and moral duty, for glory,
honour, and immortality. Then, on the confines of
the untried scene, to which time is imperceptibly bear-
ing you, you shall feel the peace and joy, \\ hich the
world can neither give, nor take away; and \\ ith infi-
nite satisfaction, you shall, hereafter, felicitate your-
selves on the course you pursued, when the Saviour of
the world, who is now on the right hand of the Father,
shall descend, " not crowned with thorns, nor to bear
the humiliations of the cross," but to administer the
everlasting justice of the Almighty, and gather his
redeemed into unspeakable joy. Let none of us delay
to have our interest in the heavenly world made sure.
The moments fly, which are carrying us to the tomb.
Soon shall "the silver cord be loosed, and the golden
bowl be broken ;" soon shall "the keepers of the house

ON DEATH. .331

tremble," " and all the daughters of music be brought
low." Perhaps, the hour is now receiving its commis-
sion, at the approach of which, the looks of our friends,
and the voice of our physician, shall tell us, we must
die. Happy for us, if, on the rapid and eventful tide,
which is wafting us from the present scene, we act as
prudence and wisdom dictate. Yea, inexpressibly hap-
py, if we so conduct ourselves, as neither to be deluded
by the life which now is ; nor debarred from the eternal
glory and happiness of that, which is to come !

SERMON LXXVl.

ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN.

II Samcel, xii. 22, 23.

While the child iva^yet alive, I fasted and icept; for I
said, Who can tell whether God will be gracious to
me, that the child maij live? But now he is dead,
wherefore should J fast? Can I brin^ him back
again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to
me.

have in this chapter, one of the most beautiful,
and affecting narratives, which the sacred volume
contains. A parent, even David, the good king of
Israel, is introduced, fasting and weeping, and be-
seeching God for his child, grievously sick. Op-
pressed with unutterable woe, the distressed father lies
all night upon the earth, and is unable to eat bread.
His fears are realized: the child dies. Filled with

ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 333

compassion for their royal master, the servants "feared
to tell him that the child was dead ; for they said,
While the child was yet alive we spake unto him, and
he would not hearken to our voice ; how will he then
vex himself if we tell him that the child is dead?"
But their sadness and stillness spoke more than words,
to the anticipating eye of parental anxiety. " David
perceived that the child was dead." What now is his
conduct? He arises from the earth, washes and
anoints himself and changes his apparel; he g:oes
" into the house of the Lord and worships;" returned
to his own house, he takes the sustenance which na-
ture requires, and exhibits a fine model of resignation
to his wondering family, in the memorable words of
my text; " While the child was yet alive, I fasted and
wept; for I said, Who can tell whether God will be
gracious to me, that the child may live? But now he
is dead, wherefore should I fast? Can I bring him
back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return
to me."

I will not detain you, to enlarge upon the fact, that
it was the hand of the Lord which struck David's
child with the sickness, that terminated in death.
Whoever believes in his providence, and is acquainted
with his word, must know that all diseases act by his
permission, and are under his control. It would be
utterly irreconcileable with the truth of his being and
government, to suppose that the lives of any of his
creatures, are given a prey to chance, and that he,
uninterested and unmoved, beholds their destruction.
A sparrow falls not to the ground, without his notice;
and, surely, his intelligent children are " of more value
than many sparrows."

Nor need I stay long to illustrate the piopriety of
David's conduct, in betaking himself to God, in behalf
of his child, while it yet lingered on this side of the
grave. It is obvious to the least reflection, that to
continue life, as well as to give it. is the prerogative of

334 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN.

the Almighty. Prayer, therefore, should be made to
him, whenever, in our own case, or in the case of
others, for whom wa are concerned, we need the in-
tervention of his omnipotent hand. Riglt it is, " and
ourbounden duty," that whenever sickness endangers
life, we should have recourse to the skill and means
with which he hath, of his abundant mercy, furnished
the earth for our use. But for their efficacy, they are
dependent upon his blessing. He only, to whose
power all the prodtictions of nature owe their virtues,
from the " cedar of Lebanon, to the hyssop which
springeth out of the wall," can render their application
effectual to the recovery of departed health. It is he,
who sendeth forth the destroying angel, for the accom-
plishment of his purposes ; and he, only, can interrupt
his progress, and say, "It is enough; stay now thy
hand."

Suffice it to have said thus much, upon the agency
of the divine hand, in allotting us sickness or health,
and upon the propriety of applying to the Most High,
as the ablest i)hysician in the day of disease. It may
often happen, that his will may be adverse to our
wishes. But as the righteous, do always offer their
supplications with perfect submission to the divine
wisdom, this should not be an occasion of grief. On
the contrary, when we have been faithful in our
prayers, and faithful in the use of such means, as skill,
and prudence have directed, we should acquiesce in
the issue, whatever it may be.

Which leads me to fix your attention upon the
beautiful picture, of reasonable, and holy resignation,
which the closing scene in the sacred narrative, offers
to your contemplation. Here, are two things worthy
of our particular consideration ; the reasons of David's
resignation ; and the manner in which it manifested
itself.

We will first advert, to the grounds of his resigna-
tion; "Can I bring him hnck again? I shall go to

ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 335

him, but he shall not return to me." The good
Psalmist had done, as every pious parent will do, in
similar circumstances; he had bowed himself before
the Most High God, and besought him right humbly
for his child. Death had signified it to be the divine
pleasure, that the child should be taken to another
stare of existence. To resist, would be vain ; to repine
would be fruitless. Our grief may unman ourselves;
it may distress our friends; it may unfit us for the
discharge of the duties of life; it may oftend our God;
but it can never call back from the tomb, the beloved
objects upon whom death hath once fixed his unre-
lenting hand. They hear not our sighs; they regard
not our tears. Though rivers of waters should run
down our cheeks; though we should give up all the
pleasures and pursuits of life, and devote our days and
nights to mourning, it would be of no avail. The
spirit once fled, returns no more. We " cannot bring
it back again." It is the appointment of that Being,
who will not condescend to dispute with us, his right
to the creatures of his hand. His will, must be done.
Reason, therefore, on this ground, combined her voice
with religion's, in inducing the Psalmist to endure,
with manly submission, what he was unable to amend.
It is true, it would be a melancholy fortitude which
these reflections produce, if it were not strengthened,
and cheered by another consideration. Though fate
forbad David to call back to his embrace, his departed
child, was he separated from him for ever? Was the
spark of life which had been kindled in his babe,
extinguished eternally ? Was the little oflspring of his
body, struck out of all being; born only to die, fated
to a shor<^er and more joyless existence, than the idle
gossamer that floats upon the air? Verily, to the
tender heart of the affectionate king, the thought had
been insupportable. But he was consoled with far
other expectations. The spark of being which the
Almighty had kindled in his child, was kindled to

336 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN.

bum for ever. Messiah had consecrated it to immor-
tality. "I shall go to him," though "he shall not
return to mc."

Even in the prospect of being joined to our departed
friends, in the noiseless tomb, nature finds a solace,
suited to the gloomy state of her feelings, in the hour
of her bereavement. But David, had sung the happi-
ness of walking " through the valley of the shadow of
death, supported and comforted by God's rod and
staff." He had proclaimi;d on his insi)ired harp, the
satisfaction vviiich the faithfid will find, when they
behold God's face in righteousness, and awake up from
the sleep of death, created anew after his likeness.
We may, therefore, presume, tiiat his views were ele-
vated above the repose, which he should find with his
child in the peaceful grave. Faith, doubtless, carried
his mind forward to another state, in which, tiie beau-
teous bud that is removed from this inclement world,
before it is blown, expands in wonderful, and unfading
perfection. He thought of heaven. Hope, the insep-
arable companion of faitli, refreshed his heart with tlie
promise of a period, in which he should find his little
one, in Abraham's bosom. It was not, therefore, a
<'ause of dejection, that he could not bring his child
" back again." God's ways were perfect. It was
enough, and he rejoiced that he could say, " I shall
go to him, but lie shall not return to me."

A resignation, grounded on such considerations as
these, must have blessed and exalted the Psalmist's
character. Let us briefly notice, the manner in which
it manifested itself. Behold, he, who, careless of
attire, lay weeping on the earth, arises and washes
himself, and changes his apparel. He, whom no con-
sideration could draw from the place, where his child
lay sick, goes forth spontaneously " into the house of
the Lord, and worships." He, whom tiie elders of
his house had entreated in vain, to receive some suste-
nance, himself gives orders to set on bread. He.

©N THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 33T

wliorm his servants " feared to tell that the child was
dead," leaves their astonished minds below his forti-
tude, and discourses with them on the reasonableness
and propriety of submission. How majestic in his
affliction ! What greatness and peace in resignation
like this! There is nothing here, of the coldness of
the stoic, or of the disgusting hardihood of the unbe-
liever. David's heart was tender. We have seen,
during the illness of his child, and may learn from
many incidents of his life, that he felt most sensibly
what only parents feel. But his acquiescence, sprung
from a sense of duty. It was the effort of a great
mind, greatly endowed with divine grace, and anxious,
in all things, to honour God.

It is worthy of particular observation, that the first
step of the Psalmist, in the day of his sorrow, is to »
" the house of the Lord." As soon as he had attired
himself in the garments of decency, he went into the
temple. There, we may presume, he confessed his
sins to his Maker, especially that unfortunate depar-
ture from the law of God, which had been the occa-
sion of the death of the child. Tiiere, we may sup-
pose, he humbled himself in his prayer, and acknow-
ledged the justice of the Almighty. There, we may
believe, he sought the consolation and support of that
grace, which descendeth from heaven upon the afflicted
soul, as the dew upon the grass when it languisheth.
His conduct, my brethren, is worthy of imitation. I
know not w here the children of sorrow should go, if
not to the house of their heavenly Father. It is in
the holiness of the sanctuary, that that *' beauty" is
found, which the Prophet was to give instead of
" ashes," to those " who mourned in Zion." It is in
the sacred vessels of the temple, that the " oil of joy"
is kept, which God's people are to have " for mourn-
ing." And here, we trust, when we are assembled
" in his name," he, Immanuel, is " in the midst of us,"
who furnishes from the wardrobe of heaven, " the

VOL. II. 4^^

338 ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. y

garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Arc
you, then, bereaved, or afflicted ? Fc\il not to seek
your Maker in the house which he hath chosen " to
place his name there." " Go into his tabenacle, and
i'all low on your knees before his footstool." Humble
yourselves in his sight, under his heavy hand. Pour
out your griefs before him, and beseech him to speak
peace to your perturbated bosoms. Trust me, he is a
"refuge in distress, a present help in the needful time
of trouble." David went into his sanctuary, and was
strengthened. And his God, is your God; powerful
as a Comforter; at whose word, the gloomy clouds of
sorrow will vanish, and the impetuous tossings of your
hearts, bo still.

The subject we have contemplated, thou::h singu-
larly appropriate to those whom providence has be-
reaved of tlieir children, is to us all, both a picture
and an encomium, of resignation. In vain do we afflict
our souls, for any of the dead. We cannot " bring
them back again." But we have duties to discharge,
while wc are continued here; and religion holds out
to us the hope, that we shall find them again, when
our probation is accomplished. We "shall go to
them!" Blessed assurance, in this region of mortality!
The tender parent, whose breasts have nourislnnl, and
whose prayers have blessed us, slumbers in the dust.
The lovely child, whose life and qualities were just
exjranding to view, is cropped by an untimely blast.
The friend of our bosoms, who was dear to us as our
own souls, is gone, irrecoverably gone, to that " bourn,
whence no traveller returns," We think with sadn(;ss,
that they once were. We sigh with anguish, that tiiey
will be here no more. But we " shall go to them."
We shall lie down in the grave together, and our ashes
will be mingled with theirs. In the morning of the
resurrection, we shall awake with them. Before the
throne of the Lamb, we shall a|)|)ear together. If we
have been as little cliiklreii. we shall enter with them

ON THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 339

into the kingdom of heaven, where there shall be no
more sorrow, separation, nor death ; " and God shall
wii>e away all tears from every eye." Surely, my
friends, if this were delusion, it were a delusion to be
prized above all truth. But when we have it assured
to us, on the word of God ; when we have it con-
firmed, by the testimony of Jesus; when we see the
heathen Sage, the Jewish Patriarch, and the Christian
Apostle, entertaining the same hope, it ought to produce
in us, under all the dispensations of the Most High,
a conduct emulous of David's excellence. " While
the child," the parent, or friend " is yet alive," it is
becoming to fast and weep; " for who can tell, whe-
ther God will be gracious, that they may live." But
is the will of the Almighty manifested? " Wherefore
should we fast ?" Rather let us correct the wishes,
which would oppose the providence of the Most High.
" We cannot bring them back again." But it is given
us by the revelation of God, to rejoice with the Psalm-
ist in the consoling expectation, that we " shall go to
them, though they shall not return to us."

SERMON LXXVII.

4 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

fsAlM xxiii. 4.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the sluidow of
death, I id 1 1 fear no evil; for thou art ivith me; thij
rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

A HIS Psalm, is an eminently beautiful description
of the happiness, which waits upon the servants of
God. Its holy author, seems to have composed it in
one of the happiest moments of insi)iration. Contem-
plating the constant and tender care of the Most High,
over those who love him, he breaks forth in the con-
cise and affectins strain, " The Lord is my Shepherd,
I shall not want." Filled with a lively sense of the
peace, and joy, and delightful tranquillity, which the
righteous find in the experience of his grace, and th«?

yUNERAL DISCOURSE. 341

contemplation of his promises, he assumes the pencil
of fancy, and sketches this soft and living picture of
their bliss; " he maketh me to lie down in green pas-
tures; he leadeth me beside the still waters." But
there was a stupendous act of divine goodness, which
his mind rose to celebrate in his song, even that dis-
pensation, by which the world is reconciled to God,
and men are enabled to walk acceptably before him;
*' he restoreth my soul ; he leadeth me in the paths of
righteousness for his name's sake." Adverting now
to his faithful mercy unto his servants of old, and re-
flecting upon his power and promise, to support the
souls of the faithful, in every emergency, until they
come to the place of their rest, the enraptured Psalm-
ist still vents the happy emotions of his bosom, in the
triumphant and solacing words, which I have sr^ected
for my text: " Yea, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou
art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
Death, is what human nature is prone to dread.
Most men shrink, as long as they are able, from the
entrance into " the valley of the shadow" of it. So
frail is our nature, " this pleasing conscious being"
has so fascinating an influence over our affections; so
dismal are the accompaniments, and so dark our no-
tions of death, that this is often the case with the
best, as well as the worst, of mankind. The har-
dened Shimei, whom nothing could have awaited in
this world, but mortification and disgrace, crouched
ignobly to the king, whom he had abused, that he
might preserve his life; and the good Hezekiah,
whom glory, and honour, and immortality awaited, in
a better world, when apprized by a Prophet of ap-
proaching dissolution, " wept sore." This is au
infirmity of our nature; in good men, a deplorable
infirmity. But, we may learn from the Psalmist, that
there is an attainable freedom from it; and this free-
dom, who shall proclaim its value to beings, who,

342 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

with unquestionable certainty, are journeying to the
tomb! Let us, then, consider what are the evils to be
encountered, in passing through " the valley of the
shadow of death ;" and observe, as we proceed, how
well, and sufficiently calculated, the instructions and
comforts of religion are, to fortify the faithful against
them. " Though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with
me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

In the first place, the pains of death must be encoun-
tered by us; and these, fill many minds with dismay.
God has been pleased, notwithstanding the redemption
of our race from utter destruction, to leave in the
world demonstrations of their fall; and of his displea-
sure at iniquity, in the sorrows and anguish which
accompany their mortality. We come into the world
helpless and distressed, and we leave it, conflicting
with pain. Sickness, dying languor, the burning bo-
som, the aching temple, the wearied limbs, the agoniz-
ing convulsion, and the panting, fluttering heart, these
direful offspring of transgression, which surround the
valley of dissolution, increase its terrors; and who
can contemplate, without some anxious emotion, the
dark idea of that shock, which shall dissolve the union
of soul and body, and extinguish the vital flame I
Under these, and whatever pains we may be called to
encounter in the conflict with death, where shall the
generality of mankind find support? Shall they have
recourse to the hilarity of life? Ah! these are the
hours, in which they will " say of laughter. It is mad;
and of mirth. What doeth it." Shall they betake
themselves to philosophy? Alas! to but few of man-
kind does philosophy come, and of those few, she
changes not the aspect of their suffering ; she sheds no
grace of heavenly meekness to consecrate their forti-
tude; but supports by hardening, or by flattering the
sufferer. Amidst the agonies of the vale of death,
there is no unfeigned, and adequate support for the

(I

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 343

generality of men, but that which is derived from the
gospel of God. This originates the only true motive,
and furnishes the only efficacious means, of a sincere
and steady composure; yea, of a reasonable triumph,
amidst the distresses which may attend dissolution.
By that sublime influence, which consecrates all the
acts and events of life to moral purposes, it converts
the sufiferinss of nature, into occasions of meekness,
patience, and holy submission to the will of God. It
sets before us, the animating example of the Redeemer,
endurins \a ithout a murmur, the utmost agonies which
death could inflict; and bids the Christian, with a
voice that persuades while it bids, to imitate his Lord.
It brings to us, the aid and comfort of the Holy Spirit,
through whose sacred influences, tb^ departing good
man is enabled in " patience to , his soul,'*

when his body is racked with the torture^t jf his con-
dition. Conscious of the divine ])resence and favour,
he bears with calmness the burden appointed him.
Amidst his pains, there is heard the voice of heavenly
consolation, " My Son, despise not thou the chastening
of the Lord, nor faint, when thou art rebuked of him;
for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourg-
eth every son whom he receiveth." It is the voice of
the Most High God, his Creator and Redeemer. He
listens, and his pains are lightened. The hand which
smites, he sees stretched out to sustain him. His flesh
and his heart may fail, but God is the strength of his
heart; and is able, he knows, when the dissolving dart
shall strike through his frame, to support him with
the wholesome strength of his own right hand. In
hours of extremity, he may, indeed, groan; and " O,
my Father," he may be ready to say, " if it be possible,
let this cup pass from me!" For Jesus, that he might
be " touched with the feeling of all our infirmities,"
thus deprecated the agonies of the hour of darkness.
But it is a momentary and qualified wish. Recollec-
tion, and the Comforter, return to his soul; and the

344 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

language is triumphant, of tlifc lips which are trem-
bling with ansuish, " the cup which my Father hath
given me, shall I not drink it?"

Again. The valley of death is rendered terrible to
man, because it interrupts and terminates, all their
earthly pursuits and expectations. " When the breath
of man goeth forth, he shall turn again to his earth,
and then all his thoughts perish." Life, chequered as
it is, has strong attractions, by which our souls are
rivetted to it. For when we become wedded to our
habits, and the projects, and pursuits, to which our
faculties have been devoted, it is painful to think,
there is an everlasting end. Every condition has
something to engage our affections. The ease, the
distinction, und the magnificence with which the
wealthy can gratify themselves, render death unwel-
come to the rich. And the poor have their comforts,
and purposes, which they reluctantly resign to be ter-
minated for ever. To the studious, it is sorrowful,
that he must be taken from the paths of investigation;
and the labours, and pleasures, wherewith his mind
delighted itself, be ended. And the virtuous, cannot
think without regret, of doing no more those works
of justice, and mercy, and piety, by which they ad-
vanced the happiness of men, and obtained to them-
selves an agreeable satisfaction. The eagerness which
we feel, to avoid the tomb, is much increased by the
remembrance, that in it there are none of our i)ursuits,
and occupations, "no wisdom, knowledge, nor device."
But religion teaches us, to consider all the possessions,
and pursuits of this life, as subordinate to the great
concerns of eternity, as of little consequence, but as
they advance those concerns, and of no value a\ hen
the end of them is accomplisiied. She oj)ens, too, to
the faithful, the prosi)ect of such new scenes and occu-
pations, as shall more than supply the place of those
that are to be left. Is it the mansion of magnificence,
and the pleasures of aflluence that we regret to leave.'

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 345

They fade into nothing, when contrasted with the
mansions of the Father's house, and " the pleasures
which are at his right hand for evermore." Is it the
delight of scientific pursuits and acquisitions, which
we reluctantly resign? What are the attainments of
wisdom, which, with our encumbered faculties, we
make in this state in which " we know in part," com-
pared with the intelligence which shall be i)oured upon
the soul in that state, in which we shall " know even
as we are known."

Another evil which we must encounter, in passing
" through the valley of the shadow of death," is the
separation from the objects who were endeared to us,
and the scenes and pleasures which delighted us, in
the present world. Here is i)oignant grief. The fond
husband must leave the beloved of his bosom; must
leave her to her own fortitude and fate, in this muta-
ble and careful existence. The affectionate mother,
must resign her darling offspring, to, she knows not
what trials, dangers, and sorrows, in this evil world.
Our friends and companions, with whom " we took
sweet counsel together," and who were dear to us as
our own souls, we must leave, to see them no more in
these earthly forms, in which we have known and loved
them. They may mitigate for us the sorrows of dis-
ease. They may soothe our apprehensions on our
way, and with i)iety's sweetest offices, encourage our
hopes. But they can accompany us only to the gate
of death. There, they must leave us. We must be
parted from each other; we, to pass into regions,
from which we shall return to them no more; and
they, to be left weeping together on the gloomy con-
fines of the vale. And how happy are those, with
whom, in this dreadful moment, God remains ; who do
not pass through the solemn gate alone; but, when all
earthly friends have retired, have the Father of their
spirits with them. In him, they discern a Being
dearer, and more excellent, and more desirable to their

vor,. ir. 4^1

346 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

souls, than any they leave upon the earth. To his
providence they are able, with holy confidence, to
consign the objects, for whose protection and welfare,
they feel a tender concern. Instead of the beings and
pleasures, from whom death takes them, he converses
with them on their way, of nobler associates, purer
pursuits, and |)leasin'es that will be eternal. With the
rod of his power, and the staff of his promises, he sus-
tains and comforts them, in makins; tlieir painful resig-
nations; and throuiih the declarations of his mercy,
they are enabled to hope, that the virtuous objects of
their affection wdl, one day, be found in heavenly
forms, .. • <le heirs with them of a better l5api)iness, in
a region, where there will be no more death. " I leave
them," says the expiring Christian, when he looks
around upon those, with whom nature, or love, has
connected him, " 1 leave them in the care of that
Being, who made me the instrument of their happi-
ness, and is able to make them iiappy without me.
Presently they will follow me, as I am following those
of my connections who are gone before me. And if
they shall be found worthy, God will one day make us
happy again together, in his unchangeable kingdom.''
Were it not for these principles and hopes, which reli-
ligion inspires, I know not how a heart, that is fond
and sensible, could sustain the thought of being torn
by death, from the dear objects and social pleasures,
of this present life. But, when the promises of reve-
lation are disclosed, tliere is reason, and to those who
"have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of
the world to come," there is peace, in acquiescing in
the privations, to which death necessarily subjects us.
In the prospects of heaven and eternity, earth, and the
connections and pleasures of earth, ai)pear of subordi-
nate consequence; and " God is all in all." Gracious
Being, when I shall pass " through the valley of the
shadow of death," oh, let thy presence go with me.
It shall be more to mc than parent or child, than

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 347

friend or brother. For " whom have I in heaven but
thee? And there is none upon earth that I can desire
in comparison of thee." Let me, in the vale of ter-
rors, but behold thy fare in rijjhteousness, and
" thoush an host should encamj) asainst me, my heart
shall not fear." Let me, when I must leave at the
entrance of the tomb all earthly associates, have but
" the light of thy countenance" with me, and I shall
be satisfied with it! Though the vale be gloomy, if
thou art with me, I shall go on my " way rejoicing."

Another thing which renders "the valley of the
shadow of death" terrible to many, is the darkness
with which it is eiicompassed. It is awfully still. It
is dreadfully gloomy. Shadows, clouds, and dark-
ness, rest upon it. I see ti>e Inlidel approach its
entrance. To him, it is dismally obscure. Bones,
and ashes, are all he can discover. And his heart
recoils, with unutterable horror, from such an extinc-
tion of his being. I see the vicious a|)proach it. To
them, the gloom is terrible. Conscience fills it with
ghosts and spectres, and images of terror. They
shudder as they enter. They cry aloud for light. And
whom, indeed, do I see uuappalled by the darkness,
and dismal accomj)animents, of the grave, but those,
upon whose minds the blessed Redeemer hath opened
the visions of immortality. To them, th(^re ariseth
light in the darkness. That hand, which holdeth
" the keys of death and of hell," hath rolled back the
clouds which hung over the valley of death. That
voice, at which the devils tremble, hath chased from it
the images of fear, and spectres of despair. To the
sincere followers of the Lamb, it is not a valley of
unknown windings, and uncertain end. They see,
indeed, that it is a desolate place. But they are
taught, that it is the path by which God liath con-
nected this present stage of our existence, with the
next. They know that it is the passage, through
which the Patriarchs, and Prophets, and righteous

348 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

men, of every age, have gone to tlie fruition of gloiy.
They consider it, as the valley which their Lord hath
travelled, subduing in it every thing which could mo-
lest, or dismay them; and opening through it, the
way to his heavenly kingdom. They enter it, there-
fore, without fear, or perplexity, having the " Si)irit of
Truth" for their guide, and, persuaded by him, that,
desolate as is the path, it will conduct them to the
regions of everlasting day. Blissful light, which reli-
gion, sent by our compaosionaie Creator, slieds upon
the tomb! How happy the relief which it gives, from
the timidity of ignorance, and the anxiety of doubt!
Those terrors, at least, which its darkness gave to
" the valley of the shadow of death," are of small
power, now that it is illumined with the instructions of
the Almighty, and declared by him, to be our path to
immortality.

But the greatest of all the causes of anxiety and
fear, which the children of men encounter, at the ap-
proach of death, is the apprehension of the judgement
which will ensue. Little as they think of it in life,
most men are sensible, when they come to die, of their
accountability to God. Their strength being pros-
trated; the schemes and pursuits which absorbed
them, being dissolved; their temporal joys all palling
on their senses; and every thing in which they sought
their comfort; every thing uj)on which they placed
their reliance here, being found useless, they begin to
feel their dependence upon an invisible power, and, at
length, are thoughtful of the retribution to come.
The bar of the Almighty, if it have not been regarded
before, will force itself upon the thoughts of the soul,
in " the valley of the shadow of death." And who
can sustain unmoved, the contemplation of its majesty,
or of the issues to be tried before it!

To the man, who is not at peace with God; who
has with him no evidence of pardon and divine favour,
but finds himself going to the tribunal of heaven, with

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 349

all his imperfections naked and unatoned, to such a
man, the apprehension of the judgement to come, can-
not but be exceedingly terrible. For how shall he
appear before the holy and righteous God ? What plea
shall he urge with the Most High, that he should par-
don and exalt him, and give him " an inheritance
among them that are sanctified ?" He is conscious of
innumerable offences against his Maker, for which he
can make no reparation. In the account he is to give
of the deeds done in the body, alas! he finds nothing
of faith or fidelity. Conscience and revelation, direct
his attention to a throne. But it is a throne, out of
which proceed lightniniis and thunderings, and voices.
He expects to meet a Judge. But from this Judge,
he would call ui)on the rocks to hide him, and the hills
to cover him. It is the necessity of giving account of
themselves to this Judge, and the fear of his just
award, that renders terrible to so many, the summons,
to pass through tlie vale of death.

But, in tlie bosom of the Christian, called of God
in Christ Jesus, and "turned from the error of his
ways, to the wisdom of tlie just," very different arc
the emotions, excited by the contemplation of the
untried scene, to which death will conduct him. He,
too, is conscious of sin. He is conscious, also, of his
utter inability to make to his Maker, any atonement
for his offences. But he has been unto the Son of
God, that he might obtain life. He has found him,
an appointed Mediator, in whom men have redemption
through his blood, even the remission of their sins.
He has taken of that blood, and si)rinkled it upon all
his garments; and while carrying it upon him, has
sorrowed for the sins, whicii rendered it necessary it
should be shed, and aspired after the holiness and
immortality, to which it hath redeemed him. From
this great Mediator, he hath received in the gosi)ei the
promise, and in the sacraments the pledges, of pardon
aj[id grace, of peace with the Father, a resurrection

350 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

from tlic grave, and everlasting life. This promise, is
assured to him by the oath of God. These pledges,
are sealed by the efi'cctual co-operation of the Holy
Ghost. And in the love, and joy, and peace, and long-
suffering, and goodness, and patience, and meekness,
and temperance, and faith, and charity, uhich arc
shed abroad in his heart and conduct, he has the fruits
of the Spirit witnessing unto him that he is a child of
God ; begotten again to the liveliest and most joyful
hopes, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the
dead. From him, therefore, the terrors uith m hicii
the expectation of a consequent judgement arms
death, arc turned away. To the God, into whose
presence he is going, he can look, as to a reconciled
Father and friend. In the Judge, at whose tribunal
he must appear, he can thankfully confide, as in one
" who can have compassion on the iiinorant, and on
them tiiat are out of the way/' and has iniiKnl him to
himself by dear, and indissoluble ties. ' The strength
of sin over him, is broken. The promises of God,
are with him. The Spirit of God, is with him. The
oath of God, is with him. And in the blood, and
righteousness, and intercession of his Redeemer, he
kno\\s there is a treasnre of merit and atonement,
upon which, when the Father looketh, he will em-
brace with everlasting mercy, those, who, through faith
and obedience, have endea\our(?d to secure an interest
in it. Great, therefore, is his peace. The bar of the
Almighty is changed to him, into the Mercy Seat.
The vail that was bi^fore it, is rent in twain. He sees
Jesus, the great High Priest, presenting the blood of
the sacrifice " which tak(!th away the sins of the
world." " Son," he hears the Father say, " all thine
are mine. And I give unto thee power overall flesh,
that thou shouldest give eternal life to as many as I
have given thee." Tlie penitent believer here forgets
his mortality. His heart, in the approach of death, is

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 351

glad; and his glory rejoices. His "flesh, also, shall
rest in hope."

In short, a sense of the presence of God, "with an
assurance of his' pardon and favour, makes any condi-
tion easy, and any place peaceful. In " the valley of
the shadow of death," it is the soul's amulet; its sup-
port and joy. Pain loses much of its power; the ad-
versary of the soul flees to his place ; temporal pursuits
and advantages arc willingly resigned; the poignancy
of leaving our earthly friends, is mitigated; the dark-
ness of the valley is illumined and cheered, and the
dread of judgement is converted into the peaceful
hope of j)ardon, and immortality, through the efficacy
of those princi[)les, and that Spirit, which belong to
those who love God. " Mark the perfect man, and
behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace."

These consolations and instructions, so important,
my brethren, to us, whose progress in life is but an
advancement towards " the valley of the shadow of
death," were very strikingly illustrated and confirmed
in the recent death of some members of our commun-
ion. To the surviving friends of the deceased, is it
necessary for me to utter the words of consolation? A
voice from heaven has proclaimed, that " the dead are
blessed w ho die in the Lord." Rather, let me beseech
you all, my hearers, to bring yourselves into that
course of faith, and obedience, whose progress is safe
and pleasant, and whose end is happy and glorious.
However light your thoughts may now be; however
gay your lives; however brilliant your prospects, one
thing only is certain to you ; that death will be the
end of your career. To meet it without fearing an}''
evil, is a noble attainment; a most desirable happiness.
And it is the privilege of those, and those only, who
are furnished fiom the armoury of heaven, with what
.the " Spirit of Truth" has styled "the whole armour
of God." With this armour, fortify yourselves against
the day of need. Delay not to buckle it on. and to

352 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

prove it, till you see the kins of terrors approaching,
with his hosts of evils. Those dispositions towards
God and men, which you would wish to carry into the
other world, should be sought and ciherished, before
you are reduced to the bed of death. For then, the
corriiptible body, may weijih down the incorruptible
mind ; and thouii;h the " spirit should be willing, the
flesh may be weak." While, therefore, it is "well with
you," take to yourselves "the armour of God," that you
may be able to stand in the evil day. Let " your loins
be s'l't about with truth, and have you on the breast-
plate of righteousness; let your feet be shod with the
preparation of the Gospel of peace. Above all, take
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 tiie word of God. Praying alway with all
prayer and supplication in the Si)irit, and watching
thereunto with all perseverance." Thus fortified, you
will be in the best condition to share the triumphs of
those who are gone before you ; and may partake of
the holy comfort, with which the Psalmist solaced his
soul, " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the
shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with
me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort mo."

SERMON LXXVIIl.

—Qj©©—

A FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

Job, XXXV. 14.

Although thou say est thou shalt not see him, yet judge-
ment is before him ; therefore trust thou in him.

JL HIS chapter, is part of a conversation which Elihu
had with the renowned sufferer of the East. He ap-
pears to have possessed juster sentiments of God, and
his government, and a tenderer sympathy with the
miserable, than the rest of Job's comforters; and his
discourse was not involved in the reproof, by which
Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, were condemned. The
words of the text, form one of the finest, and most
forcible expostulations, which could have been used
with a man, amazed by the strangeness, and awed by
the weight of his sufferings ; and are not unworthy to
]ie pondered by us, on every occasion, when, in the
VOL. II. 45

354 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

emphatic language of Scripture, the Almighty *' hideth
his face." " Although thou sayest thou shalt not see
him, yet judgement is before him; therefore, trust
thou in him."

These words suppose, in the first place, that there
are seasons and situations, in which the ways of hea-
ven seem dismaying and inexplicahle;

Secondly, they assure us that notwithstanding this,
uncliaiigeable righteousness is the eternal rule of the
government of God :

And from this consideration, they, in the third place,
encourage us to maintain in every situation, in which
his providence may place us, a humble and obedient
reliance upon his holy will.

That there are seasons and situations, in which the
ways of the Most Higli do seem dismaying and inex-
plicable, is abundantly evident, to whatever depart-
ment of his government we turn our eyes. If we look
into the natural world, we shall not always find unob-
scured, the God of nature. Here is not always the
fruitful season, and the unclouded day. The Deity,
who is known to us through the benevolence of his
works, does sometimes clothe himself in all the terrors
which the elements he has created can furnish. Dread
thunders, and dire pestilence, at his command si)read
terror and death through the air. The earth quakes,
and the busy city, with the peaceful plain, are alike
entombed within its bosom. Instead of the gentle
dew, in which he refreshes, and the generous shower,
in which he nourishes the earth, he sometimes comes
in a tremendous torrent, sweeping beauty from nature,
and sustenance from man. If we look into the social
department, here, too, we shall find his ways myste-
rious. There are times, when the protection of his
providence, would seem to be withdrawn from society.
Its interests appear subject to the caprices of fortune,
and the passions of men. Who can discover the
known marks of his providence, when the welfare of

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 355

communities appears dependent on the will of the
strongest, and this superior strength is possessed by
some human monster, thirsting for the blood and rights
of his fellow men I Impenetrable is the veil which
conceals the issue of his purposes, when the charms
of society are blasted, and its young, and useful mem-
bers, suddenly cut down, while they who stand alone,
and seem cumberers of the earth, are permitted to
remain and thrive. Who can fathom the counsels of
Jiis will, when, in his moral creatures, that reason by
which he has dignified them, is suddenly extinguished,
or the bodies and faculties, by which he has so happily
fitted us for intercourse with each other, are converted
into monuments of our frailty and misery!

If we turn our attention to the moral department,
here, too, we sball find occurrences to astonish and
perplex us. Affliction maintains a powerful, and op-
pressive dominion among the sons of men. In the
form of vice, of adversity, and of death, she stalks
through the world, obscuring the sun-beams of heaven
with her shadow, and spreading dismay by her mien.
And is it upon the vicious that she chiefly lays her
scourge? Alas! they frequently are seen upon the
high |)laces of the earth, basking in sunshine, and
trampling upon merit; while virtue, weighed down
with accumulated sorrows, in lonely retirement, bleeds
and weeps. It is not uncommonly the lot of the righ-
teous, to bear the heaviest burdens, and experience
the severest trials of life. In the management of their
allotments, the ways of the Deity are inscrutable.
The pious Job, and the zealous Peter, are left to be
tempted, the one to distrust, the other to deny, his
Lord. The former, is supported and triumphs; the
latter falls. Again. Peter wt^eps bitterly, and is reco-
vered from the most heinous offence; while for a
smaller one, Esau " found no place of repentance,
though he sought it carefully with tears." How oft
liave we seen tlie arrows of the Almighty, lodged in

356 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

the bosoms which were anxious to beat but to his
service; nay, how oft has the Church, the object of
his professed, his fondest regard, been left, according
to the beautiful allusion of the Prophet, "as a lodge
in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged cit}." In the
dispensations of his grace, as well as of his providence,
in the moral, as well as in the natural world, the Most
High asserts his sovereignty; "and his ways are past
finding out."

When we compare the terrors of nature, with his
benevolence who rules Iier movements; when we
contrast the triumphs of iniquity in the ^\orld, with
his power and holiness by whom it is governed ; when
we combine the afflictions of the virtuous, and the
trials of the Church, with his love to whom they are
devoted, it must be confessed there are S(\isons, when
he whose faith is most firmly fixed, may be ready to
exclaim with the amazed Prophet; "Verily, thou art
a (lod that hidest thyself, O God of Israel, the Savi-
our!"

But, Christian, pause. Let not the phenomena of
nature, impair thy admiration of her usual course, nor
shake thy confidence in the wisdom and benevolence
of her Author. " Although thou sayest thou shalt
not see him, yet judgement is before him." When
we consider, how mucli order and benevolence there
is, in the general dispensations of God, and reflect
upon the narrowness and imperfections of our views,
it would be a candid, and becoming conclusion, if we
had no other light upon the subject, that the allotments
of his providence whic!i we do not understand, are,
nevertheless, adjusted by rules of eternal equity and
goodness. But, we have the ])lea of reason enforcing
this conclusion. To supi)ose tiiat God, having made
the world, has left it to itself, is impossible. It would
not comport with the wisdom, power, and goodness,
which are essential to the nature of God. If, how-
ever, he exercise a government over tiie affairs of the

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 357

world, it must be a moral government. To suppose
him exerting a partial, or passionate, or despotic, or
irregular control over the events of time, would argue
impossible imperfections in tlie Deity, and greatly
weaken the obligations of his laws. His government
must be as pure, just, and benevolent, as his nature;
and, consequently, righteous in every measure of it;
seeking, unceasingly, the manifestation of justice, and
the melioration and happiness of the creature.

In confirmation of these deductions, we have the
testimony of Scripture, from which we derive our best
and surest knowledge, of the nature and designs of the
Deity. Revelation assures us, that " God is righteous
in all his ways, and holy in all his works." It teaches
us to consider, the most extraordinary dispensations of
providence; the most mysterious and dismaying occur-
rences of life, not as the offspring of chance, nor as
deviations from the eternal rule of rectitude, but as
appointed by him, for the furtherance of glorious pur-
poses, which his justice and goodness conspire to pro-
mote. He has a scheme, a just and stupendous
scheme, a scheme of infinite benevolence, in the admi-
nistration of his government. Its end is, the improve-
ment and exaltation of our race. To give it efficacy,
the Scriptures represent him as sparing no pains; as
giving the Beloved of his bosom, to suffer and to die.
And who that contemplates this scheme of redemption,
can doubt that all his dispensations are worth}' of him-
self, and ultimately conducive to tlie general good.
When the light of revelation rises, it disperses the
clouds which, in the seasons of calamity, surround and
seem to conceal the Most High. We behold him in a
manner, worthy of the Judge of the universe, and
Father of our race, administering a government, which
exhibits tlie most wonderful and perfect union of
mercy with justice, of righteousness with peace; and
pledging liimself, that the result shall be, what every
virtuous being should wish it to be, tlie highest possible

358 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

good, to his creatures. Though for a season, his foot-
steps maybe unknown; though in the day of calamity
we may look in vain for the light of his countenance;
though afflictions may ajjpear to interrupt the flow of
his mercies; and to the good may be allotted the
greatest portion of distress, yet is there no change in
his purposes, nor can there be unrighteousness with
God. All his dispensations, as well as his precepts,
are done in truth and ecjuity. Yea. doubtless, " judge-
ment was laid to the line, and righteousness to the
plummet," when in the hour of deepest sorrow, his
beloved Son was left to exclaim, " My God, my God,
why Jiast thou forsaken me!" We camiot reconcile
any other opinion, witii our faitli in his word, nor
indeed in his being. We must abandon our belief in
his government, and abide tiie dreadful consecpiences
of relinquishing our hold, ui)on tliis only rock amidst
the billows of life, or must, though " clouds and dark-
ness are round about him," believe that "justice and
judgement are the habitation of his throne."

From this great truth, the inference is clear and
reasonable, that we ouiiht to maintain, in every situa-
tion in wiiich liis providence places us, an unshaken
trust in his goodness, and obedience to his will. No-
thing more frequently distresses the feelings, and dis-
turbs tlie principles of men, than the inscrutableness of
the dealimis of God. But, my brethren, are the mea-
sures of his government wrong, because they do not
coincide with our partial views? Are the methods of
his providence to be condenmed, because they cannot
be comprehended by our limited understandings? An
ignorant rustic, shmdd a spring, or single wheel of a
watch, fall into his hands, would not perceive its de-
sign, and might rashly suppose it wrought to no pur-
l)Ose; but in the hand of a skilful artist, it becomes the
principal mover of a machine, regular, beautiful, and
of great utility. We form our judgements of detached
parts of the economy of the Most High, we judge, too,

FUiNERAL DISCOURSE. 359

by the present event, without knowing its connections
or result, and we jud^e, generally, under the influence
of some one or other of our passions. Thus circum-
stanced, we cannot but be incai)able of fathoming the
counsels, or estimating; the deeds of the Most High.
That his ways are mysterious, should fill us with
humility. It should inspire us with reverence and
godly fear; but it ought not to excite our surprise.
For who are we, frail beings of yesterday, and limited
in our duration and views, by the narrow boundary of
the present; who are we, and what are our preten-
sions, that we should expect to be censors of the ways
of God!

We are assured, by reason and by Scripture, that his
government is infinitely, and uniformly righteous. la
the gift of his Son for our salvation, he has offered us
the greatest pledge we arc capable of receiving, that
his aim, his wish, his constant care, is the preservation
and happiness of his offspring. Would we be willing
to take the management of events, from a Being thus
infinitely holy, thus benevolently inclined? Are not
our interests, and the interests of our friends, and of
all our fellow beings, as safe in his hands, as we
siiould wish them to be? Are they not, indeed, safer,
than they possibly could be, under any other circum-
stances whatever? Amazement, then, at his dealings
should never excite distrust. Our reliance on his
goodness, should stand like the rock, which ages have
rooted in the bosom of the earth, unchanged, unshaken
by the storm. The darkness which sometimes enve-
lopes his providence, instead of interrupting, should
rather call forth our unqualified resignation, and obe-
dience to his will.

It is true, affliction will pour dismaying thoughts
into the soul. We are bowed to the dust, by the Being
who loves us. He withdraws his smiles from those,
whom he came to save. He v.ounds us in the ten-
derest part. For thi^ we are distressed ! But if to

360 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

fill US with a sense of our frailties ; if to remind us of
his sovereign power ; if to detach us from the delusions
of time and sense; if to reclaim us to the paths of
righteousness; if to lead us to the Mediator, and
cause us to know the fellowship of his sufferings, and
the power of his resurrection ; if these be the end of
our afflictions, how benevolent are his purposes; how
paternal are the chastisements of his hand! And,
surely, we can never be faithful to ourselves, in our
use of adversity, and not find it productive of some of
these fruits.

In men assured of the perfection of a Governor, and
of the principles by which he acts, it is absurd to be
dissatisfied with measures, which they can see but in
part. The most afflictive, and ine\i)iicable dispensa-
tions, may often be the springs of the most important,
and hai)py operations. The Speaker would modestly
observe, that the pains and calamities under which
himself has recently laboured,* were a small price for
the experience they brought him, of the power of the
Almighty, to support his servants under any emergency,
and as well to resuscitate our bodies, after they shall
have slei)t in the dust, as to cause the flesh which had
been torn, divided, and benumbed, to become new,
and heal. Yes, thou gracious lieing, in tliy darkest
recesses, and heaviest dispensations, thou art just and
good. Under the influences of thy Spirit, " the trial
of our faith worketh patience, and patience experience,
and experience hope." Incense, tiierefore, shall arise
to thee, even from the furnace of affliction. It is the
very consideration of our inability, to scan immedi-
ately, the counsels of the Most lligh, which should
preserve us from suffering our trust in him to be
shaken, by the tribidations of life. We should gather

* This Discourse was preaclied at Ne\v])ort, R. I. in April 1804, and the
'• pains and calamities" here alluued to, were, probably, the dangerous o|)era-
(ion the Author had undergone, of the extraction of a lar^e Won from liis nock

FUNERAL DISCOURSE. 361

around us, as many virtues as we can, and, amidst the
gloom that surrounds us, and the raging of the storm,
repose ourselves upon his wisdom, righteousness,
mercy and truth.

Thus, we have illustrated the several parts of Eli-
hu's expostulation, with the afflicted Job. May the
important, and consolitary truths it has led us to con-
template, have their merited influence upon our
thoughts and conduct, under every calamity of life.
Many of you, Beloved, have recently felt the afflicting
hand of God. You have been bereaved of your
friends and acquaintances, by solemn dispensations of
his providence, and are come up to his house, mourn-
ing. Listen to the instructions of his word. Learn
from the oracles of truth, that however distressing are
the events of life, righteousness and goodness guide
the hand by which they are allotted. While, therefore,
you mourn the partner, the parent, the child, gone
down to the chambers of the dead, consider the wis-
dom, the justice, and the mercy of the Deity, as so
many comforters calling tenderly upon you, to be still
in your sorrows, and sanctify him in your hearts.
And let us all, my friends, learn from what has been
said, to preserve, in every situation, an unshaken reli-
ance on the love of the Almighty, and a steadfast
obedience to his will. Art thou distressed with a
sense of thy sinfulness? Abide thee by the mercy-
seat. Say not in thy heart, " thou shalt not see him,"
but recollect the soothing declaration, " He knoweth
whereof we are made, he remembereth that we are
but dust." Art thou alarmed by the occurrences of
life? Remember, that though touching the Almighty
we cannot find him out, he is, nevertheless, excellent
in power, and in judgement, and in plenty of justice;
he will not suffer his truth to fail. Art thou bowed
down with affliction's burden, with unjust aspersions
of thy fame, the loss of thy property, or the death of
thy friends ? In thy distress, be not dismayed. The

vor,. Ti. 4t6

362 FUNERAL DISCOURSE.

bitter plant is sometimes the medicine of life. The
blackest cloud, by which fair nature is shrouded in
gloom, carries often the shower which fertilizes and
refreshes her. Reflect, how partial and finite are thy
views. Assure thyself, from reason and Scripture, the
benevolence and rectitude of God's government.
Ponder the amazing pledge of his love, which he has
given thee in Jesus, the Mediator. This, faithfully
gone, cannot fail to calm thy soul in her most sor-
rowful hours; and to inspire thee with the resolu-
tion, at once the fruit, the support, and the glory of
Job's piety; yea, "though he slay me, yet will I trust
in him."

SERMON LXXIX.

ON THE MISERIES OF LIFE.

3t. John, xix. 41.

There was a gardetii and in the garden, a new sepul-
chre.

-AN is born to trouble." The scenes of life are
perpetually varying ; and in every scene, affliction has
a conspicuous place. The busy children of men
enter upon the stage of action, flushed with the expec-
tation of happiness. Their pulse beats high. Hope
animates their bosoms, with the prospects which fancy
sketches. They look around; the world is as " a gar-
den" before them, lively and pleasant; and they fondly
expect to take their pastime in it, moving from plea-
sure to . pleasure, and regaling themselves long with
unfading delights. Deluded mortals ! The pleasure-

364 MISERIES OF LIFE.

ground of Joseph is a picture of life. " In the garden
thore was a sepulchre."

It is probable that, the taste of the Arimathean may
be questioned in this refined age. What avails it, it
may be asked, to bring often to recollection the mise-
ries of our condition? Are not the joys of life suffi
ciently imperfect, without blending with them the
symbols of sorrow, the monuments of mortality? Ah,
my friends, it were happy for us, if our estimate of this
present state might be rectified by its miseries. We
need a finger, to point out constantly to us, the "vanity"
of things " under the sun." Wc need a voice to pro-
claim daily in our ears, remember that thou art mortal.
Obvious it is, that tliere are evils in the world. Our
earthly joys are all alloyed. Our temporal pleasures
have all an end. The countenance of mirth, A\hich,
to-day, beams full with the cxprt;ssion of gladness, is,,
to-morrow, covered with gloom. The treasure of
health, in which we exult with such thoughtless joy-
fulness, makes to itself wings, like the riches of the
wealthy, and suddenly flies away. Reason, the choi-
cest natural possession of man, is not always secure.
The disorders of the body, the wanderings of the
fancy, or tiie winding up of the fine chords of feelings
to a pitch, which they are not abh; to bear, may con-
fuse the rational powers, and convert into frenzy the
happiest mind. Death, too, is ever in our world.
Our friends and fellow beings, he takes from us, one
after another; and whenever he shall lay his hand
upon us, we must be bound with his icy fetters, and
relinquish all the charms of life for his gloomy domain.
Thus, however blissful our situation, and with what-
ever delights we are surrounded, "in the garden there
is a sepulchre." " Man cometh up like a flower, and
is cut down ; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never
continueth in one stay."

It is natural enough for the considerate to inquire,
how the miseries of life found entrance into the crea-

MISERIES OF LIFE. 365

tion of God, and I see not bow they can explain this
mournful part of the divine economy, but by consid-
ering it as the result of transg;ression. It is surely
punishment, whenever the children of a benevolent
parent are afflicted; and under the just, and compas-
sionate government of the universal parent, punishment
can never be known but as the consequence of sin.
Yes; man must have brought upon himself the sorrows
of his condition, by disobedience. We carry in our-
selves, and behold in the sufferings and mortality of
our fellow beings, irrefragable evidence of the unhappy
fall, and degeneracy of our race. In an evil hour,
man built for himself " a sepulchre, in the garden" in
which his Maker had placed him; and the awful in-
heritance, has descended to his latest posterity.

It is wise, however, to consider our situation, as it
is. A state of delusion, with regard to the real cir-
cumstances of our condition, would be a great misfor-
tune. Whoever acts, without a correct view of his
powers and position, must always forego the character
of discretion, and lose the advantages, which wisdom
derives from adapting her means to the end, and aim-
ing at those ends only, which are practicable, and of
real importance.

I invite you, then, to the " sepulchre," which is ever
" in the garden" of life, that you may, in the first
place, perceive and remember, that it is there. Heed-
less are most men of death ! The young, the gay, and
the busy, with what light and careless feet do they
anove among the pleasures of the earth, regardless of
the grave which is under them, and (he dangers with
which they are surrounded. How many stumble
upon the " sepulchre," before they have discovered it
in the path. Our eyes are willingly turned from it; for
we have not learnt to look upon it without pain. We
plant a thousand objects, which hide it from our sight.
We twine the flowers of hope, and we bend the vines
of pleasure, to •onceal it from our view. It is " in

S66 MISERIES OF LIFJl.

the garden," but men perceive it not. Too often,
alas! they sink into it, before they have considered
themselves as mortal ; unacquainted with tiie nature of
the present life, and unprepared for the issues of that
which is to come. But who, in the intervals of re-
flection, will say that, this is wisdom? "It is ap-
pointed unto" you " once to die." Death will con-
duct you to consummate hapi)iness, or unspeakable
woe. At any period of your lives, " in a moment, in
the twinkling of an eye," this awful and important
change may take place. Let not, then, the gaities and
charms of the world, beguile you of such weighty con-
cerns. Have the "sepulchre" ever in view; not to
interrupt the duties, nor to damp the innocent |)lea-
sures of life; but to prompt you to circumspection and
fidelity, that the great event of your beings, on which
sucii everlasting interests depend, may not come uu-
liappily upon you, and leave you in tjje untried regions
of the eternal world, conscious of heedlessness, desti-
tute of the blessing, and unaljlc, alas, to fmd a " place
for repentance, though you should seek it carefully and
with tears!"

Again. I have asked you to the " sepulchre," that,
with it in your view, you may rightly estimate the
scenes and objects around you. As mankind in gene-
ral, are unmindful of death, so are they deceived in
their valuation of the i)lcasures, and pursuits of life.
Time, availing himself of his presence with us, has a
competition with eternity for our afleciions. He
decks with fascinating objects, this present world. He
spreads around its paths, many ojiening flowers. He
shows us fruits of various hues, ripening for our future
enjoyment. He assures us, unceasingly, that he has
in store for us, greater and greater joys, and we are
led on by him, ^\ itii unsuspicious steps, in expectation
of the happiness which shall iill our bosoms with con-
tentment. But, mark the deceiver! AVhile he pro-
mises to be with us, he conceals his wings. Through

MISERIES OF LIFE. 367

the paths of life, while he amuses us with its gaities,
its business, and its hopes, he is leading us to the
" sepulclire." Alas! it is not a " sepulchre," like that
to which my text refers, in which as yet " never man
was laid." Let us look into it. It contains objects
which will teach us impressively, what God and our
Redeemer are desirous we should learn, the insuffi-
ciency of the happiness, which is sought by the chil-
dren of men, in the occupations, pleasures, and vani-
ties of this imperfect world. Here, ye lovers of riches,
ye may behold many, who once as ardently pursued,
and as proudly possessed wealth, as yourselves. Wrapt
humbly in a wasting shroud, they sleep in dust; and
the treasures which they so anxiously accumulated,
are scattered, or enjoyed, by, they know not whom.
Here, ye sons of pleasure, yc may find those, whose
days were once as mirthful, and their feasts as frolic-
some, as yours. Barred are their ears to the sounds of
mirth, and their bodies, the instruments and sources of
all their happiness, are the food of worms. Here, yc
ambitious, ye may discover some, who once aspired
after pre-eminence, exulted in power, and spurned at
control, with a spirit not inferior to 3'ours. Bound
are they now, with the fetters of the narrow house,
and slumber forgotten among the bones of their slaves.
And here, ye young and beautiful, ye may see the end
of many, who, once, vied at the ball, and sparkled in
the circle, with charms related to yours. The rose is
gone from the cheek; the lilies of the temple are
faded. Dust and corruption, is all that remains of
what once i)rided itself, in the incense of admiration.
If such, my hearers, be the end of all flesh, how ab-
surd is it to glory in the distinctions; how delusive to
build upon the prospects; how foolish to be absorbed
in the pursuits, of the present world. Its hopes bloom
but to wither. Its joys oi)en but to decay. Which-
ever of its paths we choose, the retired or the open,

368 MISERIES OF LIFE.

the sober or the gay, that which has its pleasures
in prospect, or that which has them at hand, we
shall find them all beset with disappointments, and
terminating in a " sepulchre." " If I wait, the
grave is my house. I have made my bed in the
darkness. I have said to corrui)tion, Thou art my
father; to the worm, Thou art my mother, and my
sister."

Once more. I point you to the " sepulchre in the
garden" of life, that, perceiving the mixed natmo, and
uncertain duration, of all earthly felicity, you may be
induced to raise your attention, and devote your
affections, to the joys of the heavenly world, ^'ou
are candidates for immortality; called ot Ciod in
Christ Jesus, to the rich inheritance of everlasting
life. It canuot but occur to you, that when our
adorable Lord had, in this " sepidchre" of the
Arimathean, overcome the power of death, " he
opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers."
It is in that kingdom, we are to seek our hapj/mess.
All here, is perishable. The pictures of (^lrthly feli-
city, which sanguine fancy forms, will mock our ex-
pectation. But, in the abode of his glory, the Ever-
lasting Father hath, for his Son's sake, provided the
delights with which his redeemed shall be satisfied.
There, by *' the river of God," is the garden which has
no " sepulchre." Its pleasures are perennial, its joys
are nourished with the dews of inunortality. On its
borders arc Cherubim and ilaming swords, to exclude,
for ever, the tempter, that he may no mote mar the
innocence and happiness, of the children of the Most
High. There walk, the heirs of glory, amidst unfad-
ng flowers, surrounded, every where, with " trees of
life." They " follow the Lamb whithersoever he
goeth." He gives them robes of pure righteousness.
He "leads them to fountains of living waters." He
shows them the trees whose fruit is for meat, and

MISERIES OF LIFE. 369

whose " leaves are for the healing of all nations."
There do the souls of the righteous rejoice, that they
are reckoned among the children of God ; and God,
himself, once more converseth with his offspring, " as
a man speaketh unto his friend." Happy are the
saints, who have already entered into this " garden
of the Lord." And happy are we, if our faith and
obedience evidence, that we are of the number for
whom Jesus himself, as a forerunner^ hath en-
tered.

Having set before you, the uses of the sorrows and
mortality, which were introduced into our world
by transgression, and are blended with all our joys,
I would address myself particularly to the young, in
the conclusion of this discourse. They are in the
spring of life. Beautiful to them is the " garden"
before them, and teeming with innumerable pleasures.
Its opening flowers delight their hearts. With san-
guine assiduity, they are setting a thousand plants of
future happiness. They hear nothing but promises
of felicity, in the whispering gales which pass by
them. Hut, my youthful friends, "in the garden
there is a sepulchre." Though you are now in the
spring time of life, there is a winter in every man's
year. The flowers, with which he solaced himself,
must fade. The plants which he cherished shall
wither. Time shall prove treacherous, a spoiler of
every joy; and nothing will one day remain, but the
" sepulchre" and the relics it embosoms. Build not,
then, your hopes upon this present life, whose fashion
is constantly passing away. Aim to obtain the love
of God. Asi)ire after the inheritance of virtue.
Acquaint yourselves with the Redeemer of your
race. Seek your happiness in the immortal plea-
sures, and noble pursuits of his kingdom. Then,
will you be no sufferers by the transitoriness of
temporal joys. A life you will have, which death

vol.. II. 17

310 MISERIES OF LIFE.

cannot reach, " hidden with him in God." The
debt of your nature, you shall indeed pay ; but when
your bodies descend into the " sepulchre," your souls
shall be with him in Paradise.

SERMON LXXX.

ON THE NECESSITY OF SETTLED PRIN-
CIPLES IN RELIGION.

John, vi. 67, 6S.

Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away?
Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom
shall we go ? Thou lutst the words of eternal life*

i^ ROM the first promulgation of Christianity, there
have been some who were dissatisfied with its evi-
dences, and ofi'ended at its doctrines. Pride, has
always started at sentiments, which its short sight
could not comprehend. Depravity, has spurned at
precepts, which would restrain its evil propensities.
Man, so vain of his self-sufiiciency, has deemed the
necessity, even of the Almighty's aid in effecting his
salvation, a false and silly notion. In the chapter
from which the text is selected, we find the Saviour

372 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION.

Stating some of the peculiar principles of his religion.
They related to his pre-existence in heaven ; to the
value of his flesh as " the bread of life f to the supre-
macy of his Father in the di>tribntion of siiirilual
favours, and to his own future ascension to " the i^lory
which he had before the foundation of the \\orld.''
To Jews, who gloried that their fathers did eat manna
in the desert; to men who measured truth by its coin-
cidence with their prejudices, and its comi)rehensibilitj
by their finite minds, these were hard sayings; they
could not hear them. Thou;;h they had witnessed the
miracles of Christ; though they had followed him as
a teacher sent from God; his doctrines clashed with
their feelings and opinions, and, " from that time,
many of his disciples went back, and walked no more
with hini." It was then, that the Saviour said to tlie
twelve, whom Ik; iiad selected to be the foundation of
his church, " W'\\\ yo also go away?" To this affect-
ing question, Peter gave that excellent, all-expressive
reply, " Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the
words of eternal life."

This passage of Scripture is capable of very valuable
improvement. So long as the human mind continues
a tenant in a talxMnacle of flesh, till the period arrives
■when imperfection shall not bound its knowledge, but
it shall see, with expanded powers, all that through
faith it now believes, there will, there must be, some
things in revelation, hard to be understood. So long
as human nature is averse from spiritual truth, till clad
in humility the mind can receive any instruction from
the Most High, these mysteries of religion will be
made " stumbling blocks," and used to prevent men
from following Christ. So long as there are infidels
in the world, and vehicles for difl'using their senti-
ments, till the promised time is realized, when no man
shall need say to his neighbour, know you the Lord,
the ambassadors of Christ will have occasion to say to
his disciples, in behalf of their Master, "Will ye also

SETTLED PRIiNCIPLES IN RELIGION. Oio

go away?" Happy for them, if their hearts always
dictate the answer of St. Peter! Let us, my -brethren,-
consider what it implies, that we may see its force, its
fulness, and its beauty. " Lord, to whom shall we go?
Thou hast the words of eternal life."

The first thing here implied is, that man must have
some fixed i)rinciples; that if he relinquish Chris-
tianity, he must have some other system of opinions:
that if he leave Christ, he must seek some othtr in-
structor. Whether we consider it as affecting the dig-
nity, or the hapi)iness of man, tliis sentiment is just.
He who has a mind and uses it, cannot be easy, much
less positively happy, while wandering in the vague
fields of conjecture, without any definite and determi-
nate opinions. It were as easy for a vessel destitute
of anchor and ballast, to ride safe and stately upon the
waters, amidst the commotion of the elements, as for
him to act with propriety and satisfaction, amidst the
commotion of occurrences upon the ocean of life.
Would I paint a scene of ignobleness, perplexities,
and inconsistencies, it should he the mind of one, who
thinks, and has no settled i)rincii)les. It argues a
disuse of the most honourable i)rerogative of men. It
exposes to all the wildness, and weariness of uncer-
tainty. It must be less at ease, than even scepticism
itself, determined to be led by its own blind, and
maimed offspring.

But, in general, some religious system will be neces-
sary. Some sentiment of this kind, man has ever
possesst^d. His mind cannot divest itself wholly of
the idea of a Supreme Being. It is found with him
in the woods of nature, and it follows him to the seats
of civilization. Accompanying this, is the conscious-
ness of his moral nature, and the faint sentiment of
immortality. These grand princijiles, are the founda-
tion of religion, and, possessed of them, he is naturally
led to devise a worshi}), and define virtue. He may
produce very rude and contradictory schemes; but til!

374 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION.

he can eradicate from his nature, the deeply engraven
sentiment of an invisible ruling power, he will, he
must, have some religious principles. If he be unac-
quainted with the true God, he pays his homasfe to the
sun, the moon, the departed hero, or the hallowed
idol. If he be ignorant of the pure Christian wor-
ship, he seeks to honour and i)lease his deity, with
temples, sacrifices, and holy gestures. If he have not
heard the lectures of Christ, he listens to Confucius, to
Plato, or to any one w ho tells him what is riglit, and
discourses upon his chief good. In short, the princi-
ples interwoven in his constitution, are such, that he
will possess some sentiment of duty, and seek some
system of right. Nature inclines man to religion.
Atheists alone, can feel wholly indifferent to it, and of
not one of them is she the parent. All other charac-
ters, must wish to know how they may acceptably
worship God, and rightly regulate their conduct.
There can be little doubt in the mind of any one, who
has studied the history, and observed the nature of
man, that if every vestige of Christianity could be
swept from the world, he would soon devise for him-
self some other, and far more imperfect system of
religion.

This brings me to observe, another thing implied in
the answer, viz: that no one can leave the religion of
Christ, and better himself by the exchange. Another
system so perfect, so consistent, so promotive of virtue,
so conducive to public and private felicity, is not
within his reach. If he turn back from following the
Messiah, he must listen to less perfect teachers. Upon
the most important subjects, they can give no instruc-
tion. " To whom shall he go," for a satisfactory
account of liis own origin, nature, and destination?
" To whom shall he go," for a discovery of the cha-
racter and will of the Most High? " To whom shall
he go," for rules of conduct, which will insure him
virtue, peace, and joy? ."To whom shall he go" for

SETTLED PRINClPLEg IN RELIGION. 375

support, in the moment of grief, of pain, and of death?
** To whom shall he go," for a history of death, and
instruction about the final state of the soul? In each,
and all of these points, he is deeply interested ; but
where, if the Gospel is not satisfactory, where shall he
get information about any of them ? Shall he go to
the heathen oracles ? Long since they became mute,
and when they spake, far from instructing, they per-
plexed inquirers. Shall he go to the Pagan Philoso-
phers? They cannot speak to him with certainty,
upon the most imi)ortant topics, and best show their
wisdom, by owning their ignorance. Shall he go to
Muhammed? His heaven is not rational, his morality
is not divine. What there is good in him, is evidently
taken from the Gospel, and with it, much vile matter
is incorporated. Shall he go to the god of modern
invention, shall he go to reason? She Yrankly avows
her inability to teach mankind, and declares that, it is
only in seasons of her insanity, that she has been dei-
fied. There is, indeed, none to whom he may go,
that can meet and satisfy his inquiries; feel and solace
his sorrows; know and confirm his hopes, if he turn
his back upon that messenger from heaven, in whom
*' all fulness dwells."

" Words of eternal life" are with Jesus Christ. He
hath come from the Father to sinful men, with the
overtures of everlasting mercy. That atonement for
our sins, which we could not make for ourselves, this
Son of the Highest hath accomplished with his blood.
That aid of the Holy Ghost, by which our spirits,
*' dead in trespasses and sins," are quickened, he hath
obtained for us by his obedience and sufferings. Those
shackles of death, with which our nature was bound,
he hath dissolved, and hath " opened the kingdom of
heaven to all believers." To you, and to me, and to
all who will come unto him, he is authorized in behalf
of the Everlasting Father, to offer the remission of
sins, and everlasting life. By his miracles and doc-

376 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION.

trines ; " by his cross and passion ; by his death and
burial; by his glorious resurrection and ascension, and
by the coming of the Holy Ghost," lie hath provided
the means wiiereby we may live; and hath established
the assurance of rest and immortality, to the people of
God.

This brings me to remark, further, as implied in St.
Peter's answer, that an assurance of eternal life, is the
object of the highest import to man's happiness; and
that it is enough to attach one to the religion of Jesus,
that in it, this most interesting assurance is credibly
revealed. And what, indeed, to the unfortiuiate inha-
bitants of this region of sin, and mutability, can be so
valuable as this docnine? Such is the condition of
society, that a belief in a futurt* retribution, seems
necessary to secure its interests, and give eftlcacy to its
laws. Such are the circumstances of our present be-
ing, that the doctrine of immortality seems almost
necessary, to give worth to life. Indeed, what, with-
out it, can explain to our minds the jiromiscuous dis-
tribution of good and evil? What, without it, can
support suffering virtue, or console bleeding aflection?
What, without it, can compose tlie agitated conscience,
and convey to the bosom of the penitent sinner, the
cheering beams of hope and peace? What, but the
assurance of a resurrection of the dead, can slay our
tears, when our friends, the dear objects around whom
we have entwined our heart-strings, arc turned to
dust? What, but the blessed hope of a future exist-
ence, with certain knowledge how the transgressions
of life may be pardoned, and our futurity rendered
blissful, can strengthen our steps, when we descend to
the grave, and preserve our spirits from despondence?
Were we left to sorrow under the consciousness of sin,
under the pressure of afflictions, and under the know-
ledge of our mortality, without any voice to whisper
mercy in our ears, or any hand to point our eyes to iiea-
ven : how deep the gloom w hich would hang upon life ;

SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 377

how awful the darkness which would envelope the
grave! The assurance of another world, is the soul's
only amulet, amidst the ills of this. It was the want
of this assurance, which rendered the best of the hea-
thens dissatisfied with their attainments. Could they
have received the Gospel, in which are " the words of
eternal life," they would have pressed it with their
bosoms, and wetted it with their tears. Well, then,
might this doctrine alone, attach Peter to the religion
of his Lord. He heard ir taught by Christ. He was
convinced of the credibility with which he spake.
He believed the grand doctrine, attested by all the
evidence which the case would admit. What, then,
should induce him to leave the teacher of a truth,
which yielded the highest satisfaction of which man
is susceptible? It is a truth, without which no system
would reach the wants, and quiet the anxieties of
human nature. In vain would he recur for it to any
other source. It could be found only in the religion
of .Jesus Christ. There was wisdom, therefore, as
well as fidelity, in adhering to his Lord; for he, and
he only, had " the words of eternal life." And though
the good Apostle was, afterwards, shaken from his
steadfastness, it was only for a moment; and let it be
remembered, as an instructive lesson to all who are
tempted to apostacy, that when he thought thereon,
he " wept bitterly."

This leads me to observe, lastly, that this answer of
St. Peter implies, a full satisfaction in the religion of
Christ. This is in the highest degree rational. Here,
all is expressed which it is necessary for man, on
earth, to know. There can be no reason, therefore,
to expect any further dispensations from heaven.
Compared with this, no system is so consistent, full,
and adapted to man's desires. If the evidences which
support it be examined, they are such as the nature of
things requires, and broad as any foundation of belief
and practice. Are its rules of life studied? They

VOT.. II. 48

378 SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION.

reach every case, and are approved by reason. Is it
im|)ortant what prize is proffered? It is the greatest
felicity that can be conceived or df^sired, eternal life.
Such, being the satisfaction which Christians may feel
in their religion, we wonder that there sliould ever be
occasion for the question, "Will ye also go away?"
We cannot but unite our voices with Peter and say ;
" Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words
of eternal life."

We see, then, my hearers, that man ever has had,
and will have, some religious principles; that it is,
impossible for any one to leave the Gospel of the
Redeemer, and hnd a system of opinions, so suited
to his nature and happiness; that " words of eternal
life," the object of our highest concern, are with its
Author, who, alone, " hath brought life and immor-
tality to light." Contemplating these things, it should
seem cause for surprise, that among those who had
known " the truth as it is in Jesus," there should be
occasion for the riuestion, '' will ye also go away?"
But pride has ever turned from humbling truths, and
depravity s])urned at precepts which would restrain
its propensities. We live in an age, in which, alas,
the dereliction of Christianity, must excite much re-
gret in the bosom of every friend to truth, and man-
kind. Was the Saviour now upon earth, how often,
and how anxiously would he repeat the question
which he put, in the text, to his beloved twelve! A
philosophy has appeared in the world, whose evident
object is, to raise itself on the ruins of Christianity.
It is specious in its appearance; lofty in its preten-
sions, and addresses itself to those dispositions and
properties of mcui, which arc most easily deluded.
God grant, tiiat in this young, and happy country,
none may be so infatuated as to approach this philo-
sophy, which, like some ileleterious plant, covered
with luxuriant foliage, and llowers of lively hue, car-
ries in its veins a virulent poison, and slicds a deadly

SETTLED PRINCIPLES IN RELIGION. 379

influence upon every thing within its reach. Let us,
rather, learn to estimate justly, those " words of eter-
nal life," which we have in the Gospel, and to ask
ourselves, what will be our prospects, to whom wo
shall go, if we neglect the Redeemer? Jjovers of vir-
tue, anxious to elevate your nature by adorning it with
the qualities which are " pure," " lovely," and " of
good report," is nor your ways made plain, and your
strength increased, by the instructions and influences
of Christianity? Children of sorrow, whose day of
life is overcast with gloom, are not your sighs sus-
pended, and your bosoms composed, when the Angel
of the Gospel descends through the cloud, speaking
peace to your perturbated spirits, and oixMiing to you
a state in which, \vith your friends, you shall be for
ever removed from trouble and death, " and God shall
wipe away all tears from every eye." Followers of
the Lamb, incumbered with the frailties and imper-
fections of nature, yet cons(;ious of accountability, and
fearfully looking forward to the "judgement to come,"
is it not your choicest felicity to know, that ye " have
an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righte-
ous, and that he is the propitiation for your sins."
Will ye then go away? Alas, to whom will you go!
Will you leave " the Rock of Ages," and throw your-
selves upon the unbounded, confused, and perilous
ocean of uncertainty? Cleave, rather, to the only
hope of this ruined world. Abide in the Lord Jesus.
Prize, above all price, the knowledge of his grace and
faith in him. Let the language of your lips and souls,
in every hour of distrust or temptation be, " Lord, to
whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal
life."

SERMON LXXXI.

ON THE CHRISTIAN EDUCATION OF
CHILDREN.

ExoDCs, ii. 9.

Take this child away, and nurse it for me, and I will
give thee thy wages.

A HE Christian education of children, is among the
most interesting, and momentous concerns of the
Christian world. A cruel adversary, intends the de-
struction of them all. Nature frames for them, it is
all she can do, frames for them, an ark, no better, alas!
than " an ark of bulrushes;" and in it, she leaves
them to waves, and winds, and monsters, prowling for
what they may destroy. The Son of God descries
them in their exposed situation. He sends his minis-
tering servants, and takes them from it. He procures
for them by the order of his providence, those who

EDUCATION OF CUILDREN. 381

may protect and nurture them, till they shall be grown
up, for a noble and happy life. And to the parents,
the guardians, the sponsors towliom he commits them,
I conceive him saying, in every case, " Take this
child and nurse him for me, and I will give thee thy
wages."

What are the wages of fidelity, in the important
work of the Christian education of children? Upon
this inquiry, my respected hearers, I would invite you
to bestow your consideration. For such are these
wages, so numerous, so great, and of such duration,
that whoever will faithfully estimate and sum them
up, shall be unable to refrain from wonder, that all
who have children under their care, in the Christian
world, are not much, and asxiously engaged, in nurs-
ing them for God.

In the first place, then, a part of the reward of
fidelity, in religiously educating your children, consists
in the pleasure of the work. It is an innocent, an
interesting, and an honourable occupation. In the
performance of it, there is a delight, of a i)ure and
durable character, worthy of the intelligence of man.
That heart must surely be destitute itself, of lively
affection for the Deity, and for the truths which he
has revealed, which finds no pleasure, in guiding the
youthful mind to its Creator, and imbuing it with the
principles, which may remove its deformities, and fit
it for eternal life. Do you take delight in raising a
precious plant, in propping an opening flower, in
guiding a luxuriant vine, in pruning, for its health and
its beauty, a fruitful tree; and shall you not find a
much more exalted satisfaction, in training the germs
of virtue, and cherishing the opening flowers of grace,
in pruning from the heart, its excrescences, and the
branches of its defects, and guiding the disi)osition,
into all the forms of beauty ? Do you experience a
lively gratification in adorning the bodies, accomplish-
ing the manners, and developing the personal beauties

362 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

of your offspring; and shall you not find higher plea-
sure in the business of cultivating tiieir minds, adorninii
them with the qualities and graces, in u hich they will
be lovely in the sight of God and angels, and nurturing
the beauties, which you know shall live for ever?
Consider, that your children have spirits; consider
they are destined for immortality. Every plant of
virtue which you plant in them, siiall bloom through
eternity. By every progress you make in rendering
them good, you beautify the intellectual creation of
God. What interest does this give, to the work of
their education ! How great the designs it intends!
How pleasing the expectations which animate it! If
"these little ones" have "angels, who always behold
the face of their Father in heaven," the delight which
springs to these angels, from their relation to them, is
found, I conceive, in the work of ministering to their
salvation.

Again. There enters into the reward of religiously
educating children, the pleasure which arises from
doing good to society. It is a generous satisfaction,
which flows in the bosom of man, from the conscious-
ness of having benclitiHl mankind. And who are
they, that benefit mankind: Let the (juestion be ans-
wered, by adverting to the sources, from which the
imperfections and miseries of society proceed. Have
they not all proceeded, either mediately, or immedi-
ately, from the passions and vices, the moral feeble-
ness, and spiritual death, to which, since the fall, our
race have been subject? And who are they, that have
most effectually contracted these sources? Let the
question be put to Wisdom, who stands by the throne
of God, and she will turn from the splendid hero, and
busy statesman, and fastening her eyes U|)on the pa-
rents, whose goodly offspring are abroad in society,
fearing God, practising charity, and subduing in them-
selves, the wrong passions and inclinations of their
nature, and cheering their hearts, and the hearts of

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. S85

©thers, with the prospect of a better world ; and will
say of such parents, these are the men. He, who
introduces the seed of a useful grain into a country,
contributes more, as some one has well observed, to
the happiness of that country, than its mightiest war-
rior, and most victorious chief. But more highly
founded yet, is their claim to this pre-eminence, whose
culture is the hearts of the young, and the seeds they
introduce, seeds of goodness, brought by his beloved
Son to our world, from the garner of God. To know
the real condition of mankind, you must go home with
them to their business and their bosoms; you must
look into their families, their houses, and their souls.
It is here, in their domestic scenes, amidst their daily
enjoyments and sorrows, that the good is to be
weighed, by the amount of which, the measure of
their happiness will be most correctly estimated. To
this good no individuals, perhaps, contribute more
lai'gely, than those parents who give to society a race
of children, enriched with the principles and habits, on
which this good does chiefly depend. Of the high
satisfaction, therefore, which rewards him, who can
say, I have benefited my country, I have added to the
happiness and honour of my race, every such parent,
whatever his condition in life, wiien he looks upon his
children, is entitled to partake. It is of such offspring,
that the Psalmist must be understood to speak, when
he says, " Like as the arrows in the hand of the giant,
so are the young children. Happy is the man that
hath his quiver full of them ; they shall not bo
ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the
gate."

Further. There is high honour in co-operating
with God, and great happiness in conforming to the
intentions of his [irovidence. Of this honour and hap-
piness, they eminently are sharers, who are engaged in
guiding the young children, in the paths of his will.
Their salvation is dear to God. For it, he hath given

384 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

his Son to live in our flesh, and die upon the cross;
for it, he hath condescended to furnisli the li?ht of his
word, and to offer the assistance of his Holy Spirit.
The accomphsliment of his wishes, he has very nuich
confided to their parents, and spiritual guardians.
He Jiath committed to thom, the care of llie souls, as
well as of the bodies of tiieir oflspring. And in the
helplessness of the child, and experience of the parent;
in the docility of the former, and authority of t\^e latter,
a state of things rcsultiiii:; from that order of nature,
which he, himself, hath constituted, he, doubtless,
intended a provision for the wellbeing of his human
children, not only with respect to the present life, but
also to their eternal existence. The affection which
moves the parental bosom, it is his voice crying, " Take
this child, and nurse him for me." Alas! that through
the blindness which has fallen upon our natine, this
affection is limited in its views, and so many chihlren
nursed only for the world. If there be any pleasure,
in conforming to the intentions of Ciod's providence,
in the order of nature wiiich he hath established, and
probably the degree of this conformity in every person,
is the exact measure of his happiness, of that pleasure
they will participate, who train their young for their
high moral destinies, who nurtme them for immortal-
ity. If there be any honour in being ct)-operators with
the Most High God, and it is in this co-operation that
the highest Seraph of heaven linds the honour, in
which he most delights himself, of that honour they
may know themselves to be sharers, who conduct their
ciiildren into the paths, which he hath sent the Son of
iiis love, to open for them, and guide them to the cross,
on which he hath caused that Sou to be lifted up, that
thf\v may look unto him, and be saved.

Once more. The good of his children, is what
every parent proposes to himself, as the object, per-
haps, of his fondest desire, as the motive to all his
parental eondncr. And herein, i*; a laru;e part of the

EDUCATION OF CHILDRLN. 385

wages of fidelity, in rcli:;iously educating tliem, that,
thereby, their greatest good in this life, will be most
effectually promoted. It is a perilous, and unhappy
world, into which you introduce them. And yet, the
misfortune is, that in education, respect is more gene-
rally had to its pleasures, than its sorrows; to its
honours, than its snares. The great question con-
cerning your offiipring is, where in it shall wisdom be
found, and where is the place of satisfaction ? Temp-
tations will assail them. Troubles will overtake them.
Death will claim them. You have to fortify them
against vice, and tribidations; you have to qualify
them, if your education of them is adapted to their
condition in this world, not only to live, but also to
die. Look around you. See in what paths they shall
be most likely to find i)eace. Examine the claims of
wealth, of honour, of rank, of power, of pleasure.
Turn to religion. Institute a comparison between her
claims, and theirs. lucpiirc, \\ hich of them has most
efficacy to quell the passions, which are the parents of
evil; to sooth the sorrows, which are the offs|)ring of
our condition; to open sources of happiness, at which
the weary spirit may always be refreshed; to pour
upon life's path an uniform cheerful light; to give to
the soul a tranquil contented character; and to take
the barbs from the arrows of death? Such a compa-
rison, will, assuredly, produce a result in favour of a
Christian education. " If there is one condition in
this life," says the sensible and celebrated Bishop
Watson, " if there is one condition in this life, more
happy than another, it is Purely that of him, who
founds all his hope of futurity, on the [iromises of the
Gospel: who carefully endeavours to conform his
actions to its precepts; looking upon the great God
Almighty, as his protector here, his rewarder hereafter,
and his everlasting preserver. This is a frame of
mind, so perfective of our nature, that if Christianity,
from a belief of which it can only be derived, were a??
vol.. I!. 49

386 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

certainly false, as it is certainly true, one could not
help wishing, that it might be universally received in
the world." This derision, I doubt not, would be
always confirmed by fact. Where, indeed, will you
find a shield to defend your ofi'spring from the ills of
life, if you find it not in the Gospel? Where will you
find the friend, wjjom tliey must every day need, if
you find him not in Jesus the Redeemer? As you
love the satisfaction of |)romotiivg the good of your
children here, " bring them up in the nurture and ad-
monition of the Lord." It is a Christian education,
which will, most effectually, form in them those qual-
ties of character, which will render them lovely and
useful among men; those habits of life, which will be
most productive to them of peace and contentment,
respectabilit} and health, and those dis|)ositions and
hopes, which will smooth their pillows, when their
temples shall be throhbing under the sorrows of be-
reavement, or the pains of death. You may give
them wealth, and it may prove injurious to them; you
may procure them honours, and these may be a vexa-
tion; you may give them knowledge, and even that
shall be unsatisfactory, unless you give them instruc-
tion in the faith and fear of God. I^eave them un-
blessed with religion's counsels, and unsecure of reli-
gion's care, and you may live to see them, if not mel-
ancholy examples of the unhajiiiiness of unrenewed
man, yet halting with dissatisfaction and weariness,
in the paths into which you have conducted them,
before they have half completed their course, and say-
ing to themselves, perhaps to those who pass by, " all
is vanity and vexation of spirit."

This leads me to observe in the fifth place, that the
faithful parent, has a recomi)ense for his care, in the
religious education of his children, in the greater secu-
rity of his own happiness. It is through the child,
that the heart of a parent is most vulnerable. *' M\
son," says Solomon, " if thy heart be wise, my heart

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 387

shall rejoice, even mine." Ah, from these relations,
which were designed by the Creator, to be productive
of the sweetest joys of man's sul)lunary existence,
what bitterness has flowed! I see a Father, in the
evenine; of his life, wlien nature asks for peace, and
cheerful hope, waiting, with a beating bosom, and a
furrowed brow, for tlie final rest which seems to him
slow in coniins- The i)roflii5acy of a child has stung
for him, the joy of life, and is "bringing down his
gray hairs witli sorrow to the grave." in her inmost
chamber, I see a Mother on her bended knees. She
is looking to heaven, and tears are on her cheeks. For
what does she ask? With a trembling lij> she ven-
tures to supplicate, that CJod would forgive and save
her olFcnding child. Who can b( hold them, and not
remember the sacred record, " a wise son, maketh a
glad father; but a foolish son, is the heaviness of his
mother." Hcr^, a drunkard; and there, a gambler;
here, a deceiver; and thcie, a man of blood; here, an
Absalom; and there, a Simon and a Levi; here, a
fa.iiijy of conrtntion, and there, an unthankful indivi-
dual, break down the manly strength, which was once
employed in their support, and plant, in the breasts,
which once nourished them, the arrows of an anguish,
which cannot be uttered. Whence the evil r Either
they were not taught sufficiently early, and with sufli-
cient assiduity, the import and authority of God's
laws, or their perverse wills were not bent by the pa-
rental hand, and parental prayers, to an habitual ob-
servance of them. For very different, surely, is the
case of those parents, whose children have been
brought ui) at the feet of the Redeemer, and accus-
tomed, from their earliest years, to admire his precepts,
and imitate his life. They are, indeed, " like olive
branches round about" their father's " table." The
fragrance of their virtues perfumes his house, and all
that enter it are refreshed. The holy dove, at times,
descends upon them to whom, as " olive branches,"

388 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

they are fitly consecrated. The parental eye behokl?
them with delight, lovely, and flourisliin^, and advan-
cing to a state, in which they shall, one day, be meet t«)
be transplanted into the heavenly Paradise, *' the gar-
den of God." What greater earthly solace can i)a-
rents have, than children such as these? But this is
not all their present happiness. Parents must die.
The hour comes, when your chiUlren shall stand
around you, and you will perceive that you are halving
them without you, in this evil world. What can miti-
gate this anguish of death ? What, but to be able to
say of them, when you cast on them your final look»
" I am going to my Father and to their Father, to my
God and to their God."' They will honour me in
their lives, when I shall be gone. Tlie Almighty is
their friend, and he will i<rotcct tiien). Short is the
period, for which we shall be se|)arated. They, too,
will die, and come to me, thougii I shall not return to
them. Hai)py portion of an expiring pareut I Wages
this, for training his children in the paths of goodness,
which more than recompense all his care!

But not in this life, is the reward of the faithful in
any case complete. By far t!ie largest part of the
wages, which God, in his mercy, has pron)ised to any
of their good \> orks, is reserved to be given tliein in
the great day of the linal consummation. And to the
Christian parents, whose children shall have been
Christians, that d;iy will be indeed a day of un*;|!eak-
able joy. Imagine yoiu'sclves standing with your oft-
spring, at the tiibunal of heaven. The numerous gen-
erations of men, the angels and archimgels of God,
the seven spirits of the I\Iost Ilish. all are present.
Conceive tl'.e blessed Son of God taking your children
by the hand, and presenting them to the Father as
rightful ht irs of eternal bliss. Picture to yourselves,
the ministering spirits clothing them with the *' white
robes," placing upon their heads the " crowns of glo-
ry," and p.utting ir.to their h:m;ls the L-oid^^n hnrps on

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 389

w'hicli tliey arc to strike before the throne the strains
of celestial gladness. They bow before the Almighty
in thankful adoration of him, for their stupendous in-
heritancj;, and turn to you an eye, wTiich speaks a
recollection of your care, whfn you nurtured tlicm for
this bliss, and a grateful satisfaction that you are par-
takers of their joy. The everhistins; Father, seals
their investiture, and bids tiiem " follow the Lamb
whithersoever he goeth." And turning to you, he
bids you be ever with them, and smiles complacently
on your fidelity. Christians, to such a tribunal you,
iuul your offspring, must, one day, be brought; and joy
like this, shall, in that day, be the portion of every
parent, \\ ho siiall be found to have taken his children,
and nursed them faithfully for Ciod. There is an
awful counterpart to this scene. I cannot describe it.
I cannot ask you, to imagine your children turned by
God, from the company of the good, and going away
from heaven, into regions of darkness and undiscov-
ered woe. I cannot call upon you, either to conceive
yotirsclves, for your criminal negligence, descending
with them into the abyss of ijcrdition, or to behold
from any station, the smoke of their torment ascend-
ing up for ever. I cannot bid you hear the accusations,
which, from the place of their torments, they utter
unceasingly against you. The scene appals the soul.
The horror, which the thought of it pours over tin;
mind, is too great to be long endured. Nor can T
willingly believe, that to well taught Christians, the
motive drawn from the miseries of the damned, can
possibly be needed, when there is set before them, the
motive, which must surely be irresistible, of beholding
their children shining as the sun in the kingdom of
God, for ever and ever.

Such are the rewards which should induce you, my
hearers, to engage in the Christian education of your
cl'.ildren. To such education, tlier(^ have been urged
sometimes two objections, wliicii, as they may possibly

390 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

present tliemselves to your minds, it behoves me to
notice. There are some, who have deemed it unad^
visable, to prejudice the minds of children upon the
subject of religion; conceiving it l)etter to leave them,
till they arrive at years of discretion, to choose for
themselves. This objection, if reliiiion were a thing
of questionable authority or importance, might seem
to have some validity. But with Christians, and they
are Christians whom I address, the truth of the Gospel
is indubitable, and the revelations it contains, air
acknowledsed as the best sift of God to the human
race. A thing positively good, yea, a good above all
other things, a i)arent, surely, is bound to secure, if he
can, for his child. He might as well refuse to take
possession for him, in his minority, of an invaluable
estate, because it was doubtful whether, when he
should be grown up, he would care to hav(; it.

Beside, this objection if specious, in theory, would,
it is feared, be found pernicious in practice. Such is
the nature of man, that if good j)rincii)les and habits
are not planted in him, the soil of itself, or the enemy
that would destroy him, will produce bad ones. If he
be not bent to goodness, and pruned to fruilfulness,
liis growth will be rank and worthless. (lo into the
woods; and select there the knotted, and gnarled, and
fruitlessly luxuriant vine: and you will have in it an
eml)lcm of those children, for whom no fatluM- watches,
no mother prays; wiiom no kind hand guides and cul-
tivates, as God hath instructed ; but a mistaken philoso-
phy attempts to dignify with the imposing name of,
children of nature.

Moreover, unto Christians, the will of God is known
upon the subject. It is intimated, as has already been
observed! in the body of this discourse, it is intimated
by the order of nature which he has established, to
liave been his purpose, that parents should have the
care of the minds, as well as the bodies, of their in-

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. S91

fants, and form the morals, as well as the manners of
their children. If he have not excluded these little
ones from his holy baptism, the admission of them to
this rite manifests, how far it is his will, that they
should early be devoted to him, and brought under the
influences of the Gospel. And with what believer
can there remain a doubt, not only of the expediency
of the thing, but of the great obligation to it, who pon-
ders this inspired decision; "These words which I
command tliee this day, shall be in thy heart, and thou
shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt
talk of them when thou sittest in the house, and when
thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down,
and when thou risest up."

Tl»e other objection, is of more disheartening cha-
racter. It is drawn from the ill success which seems,
sometimes, to attend the eflbrts of pious parents. Of-
ten, it is said, the reward of carefulness in this matter,
is not received. Now, it is very doubtful, whether in
fact, the cases are many, in which faithful and com-
plete endeavours of parents, to train y\\) their children
in the way they should go, do entirely fail. In most
cases, they unquestionably succeed. So far as we are
acquainted with the history of the eminent servants of
God, who are immortalized in the record of his holy
word, they app(!ar to have been religiously educated in
their youth. David and Samuel, and the good Josiah;
Solomon, and Obadiah, the virtuous Joseph, and the
beloved Timothy, were all brought early in life to the
knowledge and fear of God. It is said to be worthy of
remark, that most of the Kings of Israel, who had any
merit, had reecived in their youth the instructions of
religion, and this, in many instances, through the care
of their mothers. And of those, in the Christian
world, who attain to virtue and eternal life, it is not
to be doubted, that a large part have received in their
earliest years, through tiie instrumentality of parental,
or oiher instruction, that incorruptible seed of the

392 EDUCATION OF CHILDREN.

word of God, by which they were bom again to their
higli inheritance and attainments.

Some cases, however, there are, in whicli the ex-
pected effects of a religious education, seem not to be
produced. But, in tliese cases, our judgement should
be suspended, till the life is finished. For, oftentimes,
the seeds of goodness are seasonably sown, but the
weeds of corrupt nature spring up first, and strongest,
and choke the better plants. These weeds, however,
have their growth, and wither. And from the beds
on which they have fallen, and decayed, the seeds
which were early sown, and on which have descended
secretly, and often, the i)owerful influence of a Parent's
prayer, do, alter the lapse of forty, or fifty years, at
length spring up and produce al)undantly in the even-
ing of life, the fruits of faith, and righteousness, and
peace. Many, i)robabIy, are the instances of this
Jund, in which parents live not to behold, unless,
indeed, they behold from heaven, tiie happy effects to
their children, of their pious care to educate them reli-
giously.

Let us, however, suppose the worst. Let us ima-
gine, that on some very depraved being, these par(Mital
labours are bestowed in vain. Of whom will the
situation be least intolerable, of ti»at jKirent who, in
rendering to the Almighty his account of the manage-
ment of his children, shall be able to say, all that I
could 1 did? Or that parent, with whom will remain
the bitter, the distracting reflection, but for my neg-
ligence, to this, my child, eternity might have been
blissful, who now must go into everlasting woe?

I have detained you long, my bretlircJi, upon this
subject; too long, I am afraid, for your pleasure; but
not too long for the importance of the theme. INIay
God Alniiglity send his blessing upon w hat you have
heard. Take; now your children, whom the Son of
God delivered from " the waves of this troublesome
world." and h;ivin:i adopted (hem as his own. has

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 393

committeil to you to be nurtured for his kingdom, take
these, your offspring, and nurse them for him; and, in
his name, I say unto you, he will in some shape or
oti»er, give you yonr reward.

von.. Mi 50

^

SERJMON LXXXIl.

SOLICITUDE FOR TIIK PROSPERITY OF
RELIGION.

I Samuel, iv. 13.

For his heart trembled for the Ark of God.

jL OU have here a picture of good old Eli, in one of
the most interesting situations in wliicii man was ever
seen. After that terrible defeat which the people of
Israel received from the Philistines, in the battle of
Aphek, they sent to Shiloh, and had the Ark of God
taken from its place, and brought among them, hoping
that this token of the divine presence, would revive
their courage, and preserve them from the hands of
their enemies. The rumour of it, at first disheartened
the foe; but their recent victory, and the cxhoftAlion,'^

SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 395

of their leaders, animated them to the onset; and the
battle was exceedingly fierce. It was a most momen-
tous combat. The glory of Israel was at stake. The
Ark of the Covenant was in the field. Eli had now
numbered "ninety and eight years" upon the earth;
and was blind. Neither on his limbs, nor yet with his
eyes, could he follow that Ark, before which he had
so long ministered ; and from which he had so often
received blessings, for himself and the people. His
soul was filled with anguish, that it had been torn from
its place between ihe Cherubim. He knew it was in
danger; exposed to the imprudence and heedlessness
of its friends, as well as to the rude blasphemies of the
enemy. Nothing could quiet his pious concern. Blind
as he was, he craw led to the high road, and with pro-
found anxiety sat there, listening to the approach of
every traveller, if, haply, he might hear from Ai)hek,
that all was well. It is in this situation, that the
Scripture presents him to our view, a most instructive,
and affecting model, of genuine piety. " He sat upon
a seat by the way side watching ; for his heart trem-
bled for the Ark of God."

It may, i)erhaps, appear improbable, that our anxi-
ety will ever be excited as Eli's was. It may be
feared, that our i)iety wriikl hardly rise to the noble
measure of his. But, we may be led by his example,
to observe, in the first place, that a good man will
always feel concerned for the safety, honour, and ad-
vancement of religion; and, secondly, to consider some
of the ways in which he may promote its reputation
and success.

In the success of the Gospel are involved, the plea-
sure and glory of God. The good man considers it,
as an august display of the divine perfections, as gain-
ing the Deity everlasting praises from angels and men,
as dear to the eternal mind in its design and accom-
plishment, and as vouchsafed to men in great mercy
and trust. As a creature, therefore, of the Most High

396 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION.

God, he will feel concerned for the prosperity of a
work, upon which, from before the foundation of tiic
world, his Creator hath bestowed his care, and the
success of which, he earnestly desires, and hath sent
his Son to promote. He considers Christianity as
opening to the sinner, the only means of reconciliation
with his Maker; as affording to man, the best instruc-
tions and assistances for the right management of life;
and as offering to the inhabitants of this region of infir-
mity and sorrow, the most animating motives to virtue
and contentment, and the most enlivening prospects of
immortality. As a philanthropist, therefore, he will feel
interested in the safety of this Ark of mercy, before
which the i)enitent may find forgiveness, and the sor-
rowful and the dying, be cheered with soothing conso-
lations, and animating hopes. He considers religion,
as essential to the stability, happiness, and prosperity of
the state. As a patriot, therefore, he will devoutly wish,
that the altars of his country may never be destitute of
ministers, nor its temjiles of worshippers and friends.
He contrasts with tiie rude schemers of i)olytheism and
idolatry, which ancient legislators rendered sacred in
the state, the pure, the rational, the consoling theology
of the Gospel, and his love for his country w'lW lead
him to promote, such an extension of the knowledge
of Christianity, and such an attachment to its doc-
trines and worship, as may i)reserve it from being
taken away, as it has been from countries which were
once Christian, but through ignorance, and coldness,
and corruption, are so no more. When he considers
the value of this religion to himself, tliat it is the guide
of his youth, the comfort of his age, his joy in pros-
perity, his solace in adversity, and the stafi' of his
spirit when he shall pass through "the valley of death,"
gratitude to its Author, will make him a faithlul guar-
dian of the treasure, with which he is entrusted, and
strengthen the pleas of charity, when she i)rom|)ts him
to extend the participation of it. In short, when he

SOLICITUDE FDR RELIGION. 397

compares the objects which relision proposes, with
aught else of high estimation, and ardent pursuit, he
perceives that, w^ithout these, a man may possess all
other things, and be wretched; and, that witli these,
the humblest of the sons of men, may be resigned and
happy. He knows lliat her counsels are better than
strength; that her promises are preferable to riches;
that her joys no pleasures can equal ; and that her
holy influences alone, prepare the soul for heaven.
Her nature, therefore, as well as her origin, and the
great ends of her mission, render him careful of her
Imnour, and anxious lor her renown. He will be
filled with delight, when her interests are prospered,
and his heart will tremble for them, in the day of cor-
rui)tion.

But hath not the Author and head of the Christian
covenant, said, that " the gates of hell shall not prevail
against it?" He hath. And though, for the accom-
plishment of the divine jjurnoses, it may bo appointed
to many trials, and often enveloped in apparent dan-
gers, nothing shall destroy it. Like its ancient type,
the Ark of the old world, upborne by its own buoy-
ancy, and safe under the guidance of an invisible
power, it will rise above every deluge of depravit}',
which may threaten the world, and rise the sacred
deposit of all that can save, ennoble, and rejoice our
race. But while man continues as he is, proud, cor-
rupt, and hateful of tiie light, "because his deeds are
evil," it cannot be otherwise, than that the religion of
the Redeemer should have its adversaries, and be
sometimes exposed by its friends. Notwithstanding the
assurance, that the Gospel shall ultimately triumph,
there may be occasions and reflections which should
awaken the good man's solicitude. When philosophy
comes forth armed with arrows, which she has winged
with wit, and dipped in poison, will he not feel fearful,
that they may wound the lambs of the Redeemer's
fold, though, by his more wary followers, they should

398 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION.

be avoided? When the professors of the faith aposta-
tize, or neglect the ordinances of the Church, or re-
lapse from the zeal, the lioliness, the purity, the cir-
cumspection, which the Gospel requires, is there not
cause for his anxiety, lest others shoukl go away, and
the worst enemies of the Saviour be of his own
household. When he ponders the solemn and memo-
rable inquiry of Christ, which the Evangelist hath
recorded, " when the Son of Man cometh, shall he
find faith on the earth ?" is there not enough in this
inquiry to excite iiis vigilance, and call forth his care
for the preservation of " tlie faith once delivcre<l unto
the saints?" Evident it is, that Christianity, like the
Ark of the Covenant, for which the Prophet watched,
may be endangered by those who place in it their con-
fidence; and there are enemies, into whose hands it
may fall, and be exposed to contumel}', and pollution.
These considerations will beget in the bosom of the
good man, a constant care for its reputation and pros-
perity. Not noisy, and hollow, will his concern for
the Ark of God be; but sincere, and deep, as Eli's
proved in the sequel of his story, which, '* where-
soever the Gospel is i)reached throughout the whole
world," is worthy to '' be told for a memorial of him."
As he sat by the way side, one came from xVphck.
Mark his solicitude when he inquires, " What is there
done, my son:" With inimitable tenderness, the mes-
senger replies, " Israel is lied before the Philistines:
and there hath been, also, a great slaughter among the
people; and thy two sons also, Ilophni and Phinehas
are dead ; and the Ark of God is taken." Behold, at
the mention of the capture of the Ark of his God, the
venerable old man swooned, fell backward from his
seat, and expired! He could hear of the flight of
Israel, with humble acquiescence. He could iiear of
the slaughter of tlie people, with silent sorrow. He
could hear of the death of iiis children, with chastised
regret. Bui, when the Ark of God was taken: when

SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION. 399

the delight of his heart, the hope of his country, the
glory of Israel, was gone; overpowered with sorrow,
his spirit failed him; he fell, and died. Sublime piety!
Wonderful instance of hallowed sensibility! Long,
thou venerable Seer, long as the Scriptures shall
endure, piety shall turn with fondness to thy story;
find the tear which she drops over thy affecting end,
will spring, not less from admiration, than from grief!

But, from admiring the concern of Kli for the Ark
that was in Shiloh, let us be led to consider, in what
ways we may contribiUc to the reputation, and pros-
perity of the Ark of the better covenant; " the Gospel
of our salvation."

And, in the first place, we should not disguise our
belief, in the religion of our Lord. Too easily does
pride, a dread of the ridicule of tiic i)rofane, or a coin-
cidence with the current of the world's opinions,
deter the disciples of the Redeemer from avowing
their attachment to him, and their dependence upon
his word, for their best principles, and their dearest
hopes. Not so were his first followers; nor so should
we be, if we felt, as we ought, the value of the Ark of
the covenant of his mercies, and were sufficiently con-
cerned for its safety and honour. Would we advance
the iiuerests of our Saviour's kingdom? Let us be
seen in the ranks of his friends, antl, as an inspired
Apostle exhorts, " Go forth to him without the camp,
bearing his reproach."

Again. We may promote both the lionour and pros-
perity of our religion by upholding its institutions, and
observing, devoutly, its sacred riles. Consecrated in
great mercy to the human race, was the holy Sabbath,
and it is, unquestionably, one of the most invaluable
means for keeping alive, in men's bosoms, a fear of
God, and a sense of their relations and duties to him,
and to each other. The Redeemer, too, hath insti-
tuted his Church, and established the divers orders of
ministry in it, not only for " the perfecting of the

400 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION.

saints," but for the gathering together in one, the off-
spring of God. The ordinances, also, of the Gospel,
Baptism, and the Lord's Supper, are admirably adapt-
ed to preserve its peculiar doctrines, in remembrance
and respect, and to manifest the purity, simplicity, and
holiness of the services, ^vhicii it requires. These
institutions, are as banners uliich the Saviour hath
furnished for his Church, and around them, his friends
should be found, if they would magnify his name, and
promote the respectability of his religion.

Again. You may contribute to the safety, and hon-
our of the Ark of God, by instructing your offspring
in its origin, its value, and its uses, and training them
up to respect and defend it. Shortly, you must leave
this scene, and, wkh the rest of your possessions,
leave the religion of your fathers to your posterity.
Solemn and affecting is this tonsideration I It is the
best gift of heaven to our Avorld, and its welfare in
succeeding generations, may, in some degree, depend
upon you. Great, therefore, is your obligation, to
enlist your offspring under its banners: for if they be
brought up " in the nurture and admonition of the
Lord," there is a reasonable probability, that their
lives will hereafter be its encomium, and their princi-
ples its defence.

Further. We may contribute to the success of
Christianity, by thwarting the course of its adversaries,
and counteracting the poisons prepared against it.
There are books, the vehicles of impious soi)histry, of
debased wit, and of blasphemous philosophy. From
the contagion which these diffuse, the good man will
endeavour to preserve his household, and to suppress
their reputation and iniluence. There are men, of
ruinous opinions upon man's nature, duties, and des-
tiny, whom he will feel it his duty to discountenance,
as equally unworthy of public trust, and private appro-
bation. There are friendships with the vicious and
profane, fatal as a firebrand taken into the bosom*

SOLICITDDE FOR RELIGION. 401

From these, he will withliold himself, and endeavour,
to preserve those whom God has i)laced under his
guardianship and authority. Unwilling to have the
distinction between rii:;ht and wrong, between virtue
and vice, between the commandments of God, and the
opinions of men, obliterated, he will reprobate irreli-
gion in whatever character or form it appears; remem-
berins the declaration of the last messenger from the
Most High to men, " lie that is not with me, is against
me."

Once more. By his personal exertions for the ad-
vancement of those arrangements which are necessary,
to give stability and respectability to the institutions of
religion in any i)lacc, every Christian may promote the
lionour and influence of Christianity among men. It
is necessary to the success of the Gosjk'1, that its rites
be celebrated, its trutii preached, and its i)rofessors
assembled together, to recognize often in social wor-
shij), their relation to the Head of the Ciiurch, and to
each other. Where these things are neglected, pure
and efficacious religion must decline. Its substance
will be gone, and, if any thing of it be retained, it will
be only the shadow. IJut to give to these means of
religious proficiency, a constant and respectable being,
there is requisite, good counsel, pecuniary aid, and per-
sonal exertions. Not to the ministers of religion alone,
belongs this care. In the nature of it, it may, and
should be, shared b}' all the members of the commu-
nity. And the good man, who is anxious for the Ark
of God, will not feel his conscience discharged of one
of its most weighty obligations, till he has done. what-
ever he can, towards the complete establishment of the
public services of the Church, in the place where the
Most High has placed his residence.* The sublime
spirit will animate him, which David felt when he
resolved, " 1 will not come into the tabernacle of mine

* This Discourse was preached iti some of the vacant Parishes.
VOL. II. 51

402 SOLICITUDE FOR RELIGION.

house, nor climb up into my bed ; I will not sufler
mine eyes to sleep, nor mine eyelids to slumber; nei-
ther the temples of my head to take any rest, until I
find out a temple for the Lord, an habitation for the
mighty God of Jacob."

Finally. It is above all to be observed, that every
Christian may promote the honour of his religion, by
exhibiting to the world, in its purity and integrity, the
lustre of a Christian life. Powerful is the charm of
piety, of benevolence, of meekness, of equity, like that
which the Gospel requires. Seen in the lives of men,
the spirit and virtues of Christianity, form one of its
highest commendations. On account of the force of a
pure. Christian, example, in commending the path of
religion to men, its blessed Author left to his followers
the impressive injunction, to "let their liu;hts so shine
before men, that they mny see their good Avorks, and
glorify their Father in heaven."

SERMON LXXXHL

— Qi©0—

©N FAMILY WORSHIP.

Job, i. 5

And it was so, when the days of their feasting were
gone aboiU, that Job sent and sanctified them, and
rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt of-
ferings according to the number of them all; for
Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and
cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continu-
ally.

F the person here spoken of it is recorded, by the
Spirit of God, that he was " a perfect man." And in
nothing which we know of him, is his excellence more
interesting, than in the picture of it which these words
exhibit. " There were born unto Job, seven sons and
three daughters." It is in the height of prosperity and
happiness, that he and his family, in the beginning of

404 ON FAMILY A\URSIin'-

this book, are presented to our view. They lived in
the enjoyment of the delights of life; happy in their
abundance, and blessed with a felicity of domestic
intercourse, which has rarely, if ever, been exceeded.
" And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every
one his day; and sent and called for their three sisters,
to eat and to drink with them."' It is in the midst of
this cheerful and prosperous life, that the father of the
family recollects liieir dependence upon Ciod, for all
their blessings; and that in the lapse of the day, his
children may have sinned, and, assembling them toge-
ther, presents them before God, to supplicate, in pro-
l)er acts of devotion, forgiveness, and a continuance of
his mercies. " And it was so, when the days of their
feasting were gone about, tiiat .lob sent and sanctified
them, and rose ui) early in the morning, and olfered
burnt ofl'erings according to the number of them all;
for Job said. It may be that my sons have siimed, and
cursed (jod in their hearts. Thus did Job continual-
ly." And is there a parent, who has not reason, every
evening, to fear that his chihlren may have sinned?
Is there a household, who have not occasion, every
morning, to acknowledge, and to seek the mercy of
God? Picture to yourselves this holy man, gathering,
statedly, his family around him, to sanctify them with
devotion, and (Miiiage them, ^vith himself, in ollering
homage and adoration to their gracious JJcnefactor,
and you may Avonder, that Family Worship, .so inte-
resting, so lovely, is so generally neglected. Picture
to yourselves, the pleasures and the benefits which
must have redounded to this household, from this
l)ious care of their head, and you may wonder, that
every parent does not do thus; that he does not thus
do, " continually."

I have brought this picture to your notice, brethren,
to engage your atrention to a discourse upon Family
Worshii); a business which is, too certainly, neglected
among us. more than it ought to be; and with the

ON FAMILY WORSHIP. 405

performance of which, are undoubtedly connected
peculiar, and very great advantages. Were that atten-
tion to it restored, which has been a prominent feature
in the character of every pious age, and pious people,
it u ouhl strengthen your Ciuirch, and bless your fami-
lies; and you would have a larger experience of the
peace which they have, who love God's law. It is in
the desire, and I would I could say, the hope of this,
that I would set before you some of the considerations,
which recommend Family Worship to your obser-
vance, and olTer to you, some directions, for the most
pleasant and useful i)erformance of it.

I am fust to set before you, considerations which
recommend Family Worshij), and these shall be drawn
from its respect to the Deity; from its eflect upon
families in their collective cai)acity; and from its uses
to individnals who comjjose them.

With respect to the Deity, it is due to him, and it is
pleasant to him. Man, is to worship his INIaker, in all
the capacities and relations in which his Maker |)laces
liim. As an individual, he offers to linu his i)rivate
devotions. Comnumities, as such, bring to him, in
public worship, their gratitude and their jtrayers. And
families, living under the same roof, affected by the
iiins, interested in the wants, and blessed in the felici-
ties of each other, owe a family sacrifice to the God
of mercy, and giver of their common safety and joys.
If any where, Aliuighiy God may come, expecting,
justly, a social homage from his chikUen, it is to our
houses in the morning; when, while the shades of
night encompassed our dwellings, and our strength and
pouers were lost in the helplessness of sleep, we
bavu been protected by him, and refreshed amidst, we
know not hou- many unseen dangers, and have risen;
while many have sunk into that dread slecj), from
which they shall not awake till the heavens are no
more; have risen in safety to the light and beauties,
the hoi'cs and joys, of a new day. Tf anv where.

406 ON FAMILY WORSHIP.

Almighty God may come, expecting, justly, a joint
expression of gratitude, and social supplications from
his children, it is to our houses in the evening; when
we have been fed together, by his hand, at our meals,
and conducted by his providence through the exposures
of the day; while many come not to their house any
more, are gathered again in health to the sweet plea-
sures of home, and are about to resign in the arms of
unavoidable slumber, all power, amidst the dangers of
night, to V)rotect or help ourselves or each other.
Surely, it is strange, that to the guest who tarrieth but
a night, families shoulil be anxious to olTer, morning
and evening, the salutations of courteousness, and suf-
fer the God who is with them, to greet them when
they rise, and bless them when they retire, without
receiving irom them any expression of regard!

Will it be said, God has no need of such servicer
We have every reason to believe, that this duty is
peculiarly pleasant and accejitable to him. It was
from Abraham he resolved he would not hide any
thing he would do, because he knew the Patriarch,
that " he woidd command his children, and his house-
hold after them, that they should keep the way of the
Lord." It was Josliua, highly favoured of the Lord,
who has transmitted to jjosterity the celebrated resolu-
tion, "as for me and my house, we will serve the
Lord." It was to Noah, when lu* had gathered his
family by an altar, to offer a sacrifice after their pre-
servation from the flood, that he gave the bow to be a
token of a covenant of mercy, between him and them.
placing it upon the clouds w hich covered ihem. Cor-
nelius, the liisi of the Gentiles to whom was given
salvation through Jesus Christ, was " a devout man,
and one that feared God, with all his house; praying
to God always." And it was of him, w hom we see
in the text, gathering his family, statedly, to acts of
Family Worshii), that the Almighty said lo the malig-
nant accuser of the Jiuman race. *' Hast ihoii consider-

ON FAxMILY WORSHIP. 40?

ed my servant Job, tliat there is none like him in the
earth, a perft'ct, and an upright man, one tliat feareth
God, and escheweth evil :" His pleasure in this duty
hath, indeed, been generally manifested towards those
who perform it. " The curse of the Lord is in the
house of the wicked; but he blcsseth the habitation of
tlie just." And, surely, they cannot be called just,
who withhold from the chief claimant, that which,
upon every princii)le, is his due.

But, ojir heavenly T atiuM- hath not left our duty to
him, unconnected \^itli benefit to ourselves. Let us
proceed to consider, the effects of Family Worship
u|)on the families, in which it is performed. It is
favourable to fiood order. The very recurrence of
joint attention, at stated times, to a business of serious
character, is calculated to give a character of regularity
to a household ; and when in the performance of that
business all are brought at the beginning, and close of
the day, into the presence of Ciod, it may be expected,
that this will be promotive of that fidelity in all, in the
discharge of their resjjrctivc dufies, by means of whicii,
the prosperity and hapi)iuess of a family, are most
eflfectually secured.

It is calculated to promote and preserve amity, and
kind offices, in a family, 'i'he oftener mankind ar«
brought together, before their common Parent, the
fonder, and more tender, (hey \\\\\ be of each other,
and the spirit which is imbibed by a joint communion
with him, is a spirit of love, and good will, to one
another. Would not the anger of the father towards
the son, be mitigated; would not the asperity of the
brother towards the brother, be softened ; would not
the sullenness of the servant towards his master, be
corrected, if all were brought, every morning and
evening, into the iireser.ce of (lod, to confess their sins,
and n^cognize before him, in the spirit of humility and
love, their duties to him, and to one another?

408 ON FAMILY WORSHIl'.

But, it would also benefit families, by brin^in^ upon
them the blessing of heaven. Great efficacy is ascribed
to prayer, in the sacred volume; especially to the
prayers of " two or three" associated for the purpose.
How largely, then, may the dews of heaven be ex-
pected to descend upon the families, in which prayer is
made unto him constantly and with one accord, and he
is daily praised. " The voice of Joy and health," says
the Psalmist, " is in the dwellings of tlu^ righteous."
And it is strikingly observed by the pious liishop Wil-
son, that " ignorance, profanencss, and a curse, must
of necessity be in that family, where, not a creature,
but is taken care of; not a swine but shall be served
twice a day, and God, only, is forgotten!"

But this duty will appear still more important and
beneficial, if we advert to its uses to the individuals,
of whom families are generally com[)osed. And first,
with regard to the pious part of them, it affords, next
to the worship of the saiutuaiy, the most convenient,
and unexcei)tionable opportunity, for that sociality in
devotion, which minds, seriously impressed, do very
naturally and strongly desire. Some seek this oppor-
tunity in conferences ; and some in special meetings
for i)rayer. Ijiit, it may be questioned, \\ hethcr the
good effects of these tiju)!! the community, or individu-
als, would be equal to the effects of a performance, in
every house, of family prayers.

But you will say, all the member> of the family are
not religious. For those who are otherwise, family
prayer may have the^ most beneficial ojteration. You
liave a son-, his religious principles are not settled; he
has been abroad amidst the gaities and vices of this
evil world. It may be, he " liath sinned, and cursed
Ciod in his heart." How important, how interesting,
that you offer sacrifices for him, to the Lord your God.
Are there any in your house, yet uninstructed in reli-
gion; any, who are volatile in their minds; any, who
have unhappy dispositions, or evil propensities in fluir

ON FAMILY WORSHIP.

409

iiearts or lives? The constant performance of this
duty, is calculated to diffuse amoni; them, reli^^ious
principles and feelings; to check inordinate volatility,
and produce becoming seriousness; and hy its gentle
influence, to correct the bad dispositions, and restrain
the conduct of the wicked, and the unhai)py. Wiiile
its tendency is to render the parent considerate, and
the child dutiful ; to promote the unity of the husband
and wife; to make masters kind, and servants sober
and faithful. It promises, also, a more distant good.
The individual, who has grown up in rh»' h^bir of
family worship, will be most likely, when he, him:!>elf,
Jias a household, to establish this |)raciice in th<' midst
of them, and thus, this duty would be the means of
transmitting to posterity, the blessings of religion. It
may be, that upon some, in the ungovernable years of
life, the cfticacy of Family Worship may not hv imme-
diately i)erceived; but when the gay season has elaps-
ed, the passions have cooled, and the weeds of corrupt
nature have withered with the season that produced
them, the iulluence of the scenes by tlie domestic ahar,
will remain; and the principles and feelings which
were there hallowed, will be recollected and cherished,
like the counsels of the paternal lip, when tiie inclina-
tions and i)racticcs which thwarted them, will be re-
membered with regret.

This duty may be recommended, in the last place,
by a consideration drawn from its iulluence upon the
community at large. We are told, that " the angels of
God encamp about the dwellings of the just." W^ere
these encampments of the hosts of God multiplieil in
a land; did companies of angels surround every habi-
tation, by reason of the altar and piety therein, what a
force would they constitute against the approach of
evil ; what powerful protectors of health, and peace
and joy! Let every private home be a temple; from
every dwelling let there arise incense to heaven, morn-
ing and evening; and of the happiness of that people,

VOL. rr; .52

410 4)IV FAMITA' WORSHIP.

who have "the Lord for their God," our country would
largely partake. These daily sacrifices, would be re-
turned to us by Him, to whom they were ofi'ered, that
we might feast upon them, and live by them ; and they
would be means of bringing, not only upon the indivi-
dual, not only upon the family, but also upon the com-
munity, a participation of all the fruits of that great
sacrifice, " which taketh away the sins of the world,"

My Christian friends, you see how weighty, how
affecting are the considerations, that recommend Fam-
ily Worship. Forgive me, that I have said so much
upon this neglected duty. Is it good, is it right, is it
useful? What remains, but to resolve, that a duty
which is so good, and useful, you will immediately be-
gin to perform.

In performing it, allow me to reconimeiul, that a
form of prayer be used, as best calculated for all the
purposes of social worship. You have in the Prayer
Book, a form at hand: and if variety be wished, by
selecting from that Book, the Collects for repentance,
and faith, and charity, for grace, and peace, the prayer
for all conditions of men, and the thanksgiving, ^^ ith
the Lord's Prayer, you may furnish yourselves with
sacrifices, with which the members of your families are
familiarly acquainted, and they, with you, will easily
offer them together.

SERMON LXXXIV.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL-

St. Lues, x. 42.

But one thing is needful.

HEN we consider the various ways, and nume-
rous objects, in which men seek felicity, it hardly
seems conceivable, that all which is necessary to the
true end, and happiness of life, is to be found in one
definite pursuit. To do what shall become our nature,
secure our interests, and please our God; to attain
what shall answer the true purpose of our creation,
and yield us peace and permanent satisfation, these
are momentous concerns ; and, surely, the truth is sur-
prising, and little regarded, that in one single point,
they all concentrate, that on one distinct object, they

412 ONE THING NEEDFUL.

all depend. Yet, this truth is declared by the great
founder of our faith; and we have the record of his
declaration, in the passage which I have selected for
my text: " But one thing is needful."

To the occasion and import of these words, permit
me, my brethren, to invite your attention; and to the
instructive lessons conveyed, in the narrative of which
they are an interesting part.

There dwelt at Bethany, a very amiable family,
whose virtues attracted to them the fondness, and fre-
quent visits of our blessed Lord. Jesus loved Martha,
and her sister, and Lazarus. In the society of this atfec-
tionate and benevolent family, he loved to pass an hour
of retirement; and to their honest minds, unfolded the
overtures of salvation, which he brought from heaven,
and the bright pros|)ects of eternal life and joy. It ha|i-
pened, during one of his visits to them, that the diller-
ent characters of the sisters were strikingly displayed.
In Martha, the elder, \\c bi'hold a busy, generous,
careful, person, who was filled with anxieties about
the affairs of the household, and on this occasion, was
entirely absorbed in making preparations for the hospi-
table entertainment of her guests. In Mary, we dis-
cover an even, contemplative, docile mind, which
wished for no other gratification, than to sit at the feet
of the celestial Inslructor, and hear his words. They
both were pious and virtuous persons; both hapi)y in
the friendship, and presence of the .Saviour; and each
of their characters had, undoubtedl), its peculiar ex-
cellence. But, the solicitude of Martha's disposition,
made her often the prey of unnecessary restlessness
and care; it rendered the object, too, on which she
was intent, however commendable in itself, painful to
her friends, by reason of the trouble it occasioned her;
and it was this uneasy, innnoderate anxiety about
things vain anil transitory, that the Saviour repre-
hended. Filled with concern about the entertainment
of her guest; busily absorbed in the desire richly to

ONE THING NEEDFUL. 41S

refresh, and handsomely to serve them, she complained
to Jesus of Mary's abiding at his feet, and neiilecting
to take part in doing to him the honours of the house.
" Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me
to serve alone ? Bid her that she help me." To him,
A\ ho li::htly regarded the pleasures of the senses, who
knew how to value the ceremonious complaisance of
the world, and who found his best gratification in
leading the docih^ to truth, and to goodness, this was
an ill-judged compliment, and occasioned a tender
reproof. " Martha, INIartha," said he, with aflection-
ate I arnestness, repeating the name, " Martha, Martha,
thou art careful and troubled about many things; but
one thing is neidtui; and Mary hath chosen that good
part, which shall not be taken away from her."

" But one thing is needful." A serious, impressive
declaration ! And we hasten from the occasion of it,
to consider its im|)ort. Kvidently the Saviour asserts,
that there is "one thing," essential to the end, and
welfare of every man's life; upon which he should
bestow his chief solicitude; in which lie should seek
his proper happiness. What is this thing, this all im-
portant object? Let us look among the many things,
about which men "are careful and troubled;" and
see, if we can find it among them.

In one path of human life, we observe many assem-
bled, who arc all anxious to gain the eminences of
power, or to attract the notice of fame by the way.
They strive amidst difficulties, competitions, and foes;
and some (ew, obtain the object of the struggle. But
is this the object to ^^ hich the Saviour points? Is the
gratification of ambition, the "one thing needful?"
By the constitution of things, distinction can be the
lot of but few; and, therefore, could never have ap-
peared to the divine mind, necessary to all. Besides,
liow uncertain is the fate of the ambitious! "One
Caesar lives, a thousand are forgot." How unsatisfac-
tory are his delights! The insignia of power, dazzle the

414 ONE THING NEEDFUL.

proud eye ; the notes of fame's trumpet, feed the vain
ear; but neither satisfy the heart. At best, how short
is the use of his pomp to the i»o\verful, or of his name
to the renowned! Read this, in the dust of the great
of former times, tlie memory of wliose eminence serves
only to enforce, with a i)athos tliat melts and humbles
us, the sacred admonition, " let not the mighty man
glory in his might." Great benefit undoubtedly ac-
crues to society, from the gradation of its mcnibers;
and for the general good, there must be some elevated
to lofty stations. But they who, in these eminences,
seek their chief felicity, pursue a bubble, lustrous in-
deed, and of rich colours, when first blown, but thui as
air; dependent on the ever variable wind; and oft-
times bursting and vanishing, without leaving a frag-
ment, or trace of what it once was. And to beings
formed for high behests, capacitated for real and lasting
joys, can such a bubble be the '* one thing needful ?"

Turn we, then, to another path of human life.
Here, in a broad and lively road, are multitudes
thronging after pleasure. She holds out to them, a
sparkling cup; she opens before them, gardens of de-
light; and they follow her under the action of her
fascinating spells, fondly llattcring themselves, that
they have found all that is necessary to the true end,
and happiness of life. But, alas I they drink of her
cup, become intoxicated, and forget their nature, their
powers, and their destination. They relax in her
gardens; and from innumerable coverts, vexations and
miseries surprise them. They are hurried by age, or
calamity, from their sports, and joys; and in their re-
treat, carry but an empty cup, or bitter, bitter dregs.
Is it, then, the chief business of life, to gratify our
senses, to take our ease, and to roll on in pleasure's
varying whirl? Is the "one thing needful," that
thoughtless gaiety, in the midst of which the heart is
sorrowful; or that prodigal mirth, whose end is heavi-
ness? Surely, that which shall he worthy of our

I

ONE THING NEEDFUL. 415

nature, and satisfy our desires, must be pure, substan-
tial, and permanent; qualities, which the boons of
temporal pleasure, do none of them possess.

But there is another path, narrow, steep, and re-
tired, in which the travellers have a more composed
aspect. This is the path of science. Knowledge is
the object of those who frequent it; and for their
object, though silently, they laboriously toil. For
them the morn diffuses its earliest beams; and the
midnight lamp sheds its expiring rays. With arduous
application, they pursue truth in its deep recesses; and
to the attainment of it, devote their time and labour,
their talents, and all their care. But is this the path
to which the Saviour points? Is the object they arc
seeking, the " one thing needful?" Useful, indeed, to
mankind, and delightful to themselves, are the occupa-
tions of the studious. INIuch, ye sons of science, arc
wo indebted to you, for the exaltation ye have given to
our nature; and the conveniences, refinements, and
elevated delights, with which your labours have en-
riciied life. But, human knowledge neither does, nor
can, set open a fountaii), in which man may wash from
sin and uncleanness; nor hold out a lamp, by which
he may be cheered as he journeys to the tomb, and
conduct his steps in safety and peace. ^Vithout these,
wisdom is vain; and understanding but an increase of
sorrow. As the chief good of life, even science can-
not maintain its strong pretensions to our regard.
They, who long and assiduously i)ursue it, how little
do they know; and even this little knowledge which
they have in part, it shall vanish away. The wisdom,
too, which they have acquired, with the utmost dili-
gence, it cannot defend them from the calamities of
their nature, nor discharge the awful debt with
which it is encumbered. " There is no remembrance
of the wise, more than of the fool for ever; seeing
that which now is, in the days to come shall all be

416 0^'E THING NEEDFUL.

forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? As the
fool."

From these several paths, we turn to one of more
general resort. It is wide and crowded; and from
the zeal and industry of those, whom we behold in its
different parts, it would be natural to conclude, that
here has, unquestionably, been found the essential
business, and happiness of life. The object of jmrsuit
here, is wealth. By an uncontrollable monopoly, this
engages the attention and labour, of the greatest part
of mankind; and not Martha herself, in all the hurry and
anxiety of her nature, is more " careful and troubled''
about entertaining her Redeemer, than the votaries of
fortune, about the success of their schemes, and increase
of their property. Are riches, then, the " one thing
needful?" It would be foolish, and false, to assert
that riches, honestly accpiired, are not a blessing to
virtuous characters. But their claim to the chief de-
sire, and first pursuit of men, must be tried by their
sufficiency to procure happiness, their power to ward
off the calamities of life, and their stability, or per-
manence. If in these points they are deficient, they
cannot be the proper objects of mairs chief regard.
Now can wealth give regularity, contentment, and
peace to the bosom, or bring to the soul, pardon, pu-
rity, and the hope of eternal life? Can it keep at a
distance, adversity, or vexation, or sorrow, or death -
Can it promise its possessor to remain wlih him a day,
and will it accompany him for his service, in the future
states of his existence.^ In the hright mid-day of
abundance^ a cloud may arise to darken his prospects:
or a little root of bitterness in his bosom, may blight
all his joys. He may grow indifferent to the gratifi-
cation which wealth procures, as soon as he is accus-
tomed to them, and in the mansion of splendour, upon
the bed of down, may pine a wretch, and die accursed.
What, then, are the claims of this infatuating ol)ject,
about the jiossession of w liich, mankind in general arr

ONE THING NEEDFUL. 417

SO "careful and troubled!" That, certainly, cannot
be the " one thins needful," which a man may possess,
and be, at tlie same time, miserable and worthless.

But, if in the paths of ambition, pleasure, science,
and wealth, which contain the principal objects of hu-
man pursuit, the "one thins; needful" may not be
found, what, and where, is the great object to which
our Lord alludes? We have his own comment upon
his declaration, which will, at once, lead us to the true
import of the words. " IJut one thins is needful; and
Mary hath chosen that good |)art, which shall not be
taken away from lier." The part she had chosen was,
to hearken unto Christ; and to learn of him, how to
regulate properly her present life, and secure to herself
a resurrection from the ^ravc, to future and endless
felicity. To this, she gave her principal care. This,
was her commended choice. And from the connec-
tion of her praise with the text, we may safely con-
clude, that religion, or an attention to the means of
passing life here, conformably with the will of our
Creator; and of securing his favojir, and an entrance
into his heavenly kingdom, is the great thing to which
the Saviour points, as the most interesting concern of
every sojourner upon earth, and source of his proper
hap|)iness.

The necessity, and pre-eminent importance of this
object, will be (jvidcnt, if we consider, to what it re-
lates; how great the interest it involves. It resi)ects
the soul, the better and immortal part of man; it re-
spects its hapi)iness for eternity. What words can
express the magnitude and weight of this considera-
tion? Is it, indeed, true, my hearers, that these bodies
are inhabited by spirits of divine origin, by which we
think, and feel, and are raised to our high station in
the scale of being? Is it, indeed, true, that these
spirits do not die, but are destined to exist for ever?
Is it, indeed, true, that after these bodies shall have
slept their sleep, these spirits in reunion, each v.ith its

VOL. n. 53

418 ONE THING NEEDFUL.

own, shall have come forth, " they that have done
good, unto the resurrection of life, and they that have
done evil, unto the resurrection of condemnation r"*
These things, the spirit within us sugg(^ts, and the
revelation which Cod hath heen graciously jileased to
give us, most certainly declares. What, then, can
have such claim to our first attention, or be so abso-
lutely needful to our safety and peace, as the things
which involve our faith and duty here, and our happi-
ness for ever. What, ccm|Kued with tliese interests
of the soul, are all the concerns of this fleeting exist-
ence? The acquisitions and pleasures of life, shall
presently have an end. This glol)e itself, shall be dis-
solved. The fires of yon sun, shall be extinguished;
"and the heavens shall be rolled together as a scroll,"
and i)ass nwny. But the soul shall survive them all;
find its happiiM'ss, for ages \\ illiout end, tlepends upon
the princii)lcs we embrace, and the course we pursue.
What, then, can ambiiion, i>l(>asure, science, or wealth
produce, in competition with objects, whose value can
be measured only by our love of happiness, and the
extent of tlieir importance by the duration of eternity ?
Again. An attention to the means of living ri^iitly
jiere, and being raised from tieath to [)ardon, and eter-
nal life, is pre-eminently needful, because, without it,
no man can Ix' imiforndy ami permanently hai)py.
Strike from the; human miutl, all thai religion unlolils
and enjoins, and man wanders through life, like an
anxious traveller in an unknown u ild ; yields to adver-
sity, like the uptorn tree to the blast; laughs in his
vices, like the madman in his chains; and dies like
the brute into utter extinction. But with iiis inquisi-
tiveness, to be perjikxcd about his very being; amidst
the troubles and calamities of life, to have no shelter
nor prop; with his nature, callable of glorious moral
attainments, to be enslaved to vice; and with his long-
ing after immortality, to sink without comfort or ho|)e,
into eternal death, what situation can be more income

ONE THING NEEDFUL. 41^

patible with happiness! He must sigh over his coii-
ditioji, whenever it presents itself to his considerate
view. Dissatisfaction, if not wretchedness, must op-
press his spirit, in whatever path he pursues his un-
meaning way. To guide his steps, to sooth his sor-
rows, to dispel his fears, and to unbar to him the
portals of heaven, is exclusively religion's office; and
for this oftice, as she descends in the mild form of the
Ciospei, she is divinely consecrated, and adequately
endowed. I,et Imt h«M' truths he studied, and life is
no longer an inexi)lical)le maze. Let her consolations
be used, and the weary spirit, fainting under the tribu-
lations and i)erplexities of its |)ilgrimage, is refreshed.
liCt her guidance be followed, and the soul recovers
the image of its Creator, and with it the consciousness
of his peace and favour. Let her promises be be-
lieved, and immortality, like the reflected beams of a
sun beyond the horizon, gilds with mild grandeur life's
evening clouds, and beautifies the approach of night.

1 will only add, that this care of our spiritual, and
eternal interests, is important before all things, because
it is this to which all tiie dispensations of God have
reference, and in which alone, his gracious will con-
cerning us, can be accomi)lishcd. For what, before
the foundation of the world, was Jehovaii employed
iu devising the scheme of government, which he would
administer over our race? For what, are the wonders
of visible nature displayed to our view, and we fur^
nished with powers and incitements to look through
them to their God? For what, *' at sundry times, and
in divers manners, hath the Almighty spoken in times-
past to the fathers, by the Prophets; and in these latter
days to us by his Son ?"' For what, hath his hand
been discerned in all ages, conducting the motions of a
stupendous apparatus, which introduces and explains
a revelation, to which, with the voice of parental anx-
iety, he summons the attention of the children of menr
For what, hath the Son of God been incarnate, and

420 ONE THmc NEEDFUL.

crucified, and raised from the dead, and set forth as
the Lord of the dead and tlie living? For what, hath
his gos|)el heen promulgated to the world, and his
Church instituted, and furnished hy him with a minis-
try, and ordinances, and holy Sabbaths? For what,
are we called to the knowledge of God's grace and
faitli in him, and put in possession of the oracles of
truth ? For what, arc his dispensations to us indi-
vidually intended, in the various forms which ho sees
fit to give them? For what, especially, are nfllictions
and sorrows allotted us, and our lives embittered with
chastisements from our Father's hand? All, all hath
reference to our salvation, and spiritual imi)rovement.
The righteousness, and everlaj>ting happiness of men,
are the ends to which the gracious, and mysterious
economy of God towards this world, is designed to
promote. The general, and stupendous acts of his
government, and the particular events, which his pro-
vidence ordains, all arc intended to manifest the " onu
thing needful," and to e.vcite, and enable us to make
it sure. And, surely, that, about w hicli the Almighty
God hath vouchsafed thus to interest himself, that upon
which he hath bestowed his counsels and care, and to
which he, in so many ways, |)resses our attention, must
be the chief, and all-important concern of our being.
If our business, interest, and happiness, arc; to be con-
sidered as intimated by the purposes of God, our prin
cipal care sliould be, to place ourselves at the feet ol
his Son Jesus Christ, that we may learn to live accord-
ing to the divine will, ^^hilc we sojourn here, and make
our election to eternal life sure.

And now, are there any hearing me, who, like Mar-
tha, suffer the business and cares of this life to absorb
their attention ? Let them share w ith her, the Re-
deemer's reproof. Let them learn from him, that to
be "careful and troubled" about many of the concerns
of this transitory state, is to create to themselves unne-
cessary uneasiness; perhaps, too, at the expense of

ONE THING NEEDFUL. 421

better objects, and durable joys. Let them observe
his finger, pointing them, with unspeakable affection,
to his salvation, as the " one thing needful;" and pon-
der his intimation, that, having this, they will possess
all things. Sufficient for their solicitude, is the care
of their souls; and a knowledge that they are safe,
through the Redemption that is in Christ Jesus, can
alone give peace and satisfaction to their bosoms.

To those, and 1 doubt not there are many such here
present, who, like Mary, have chosen it as the object of
their fnsl desire, to be taught of Christ, and to be sin-
cere, and without offence, unto the day of his coming,
what confirmation is the Scripture we have been con-
temjjjaring. calculated to afford. Let it encourage you,
Christians, in your cause. It is a good part you have
chosen; good in itself, good in its influence upon life,
good in the estimation of the Most High God, your
Creator, and good, in consequences of infmite and
eternal importance. While perishableness is written
upon every earthly object, and calamity, and time,
and death take away the things, on which others
rely; the part you have ciiosen, the Almighty is enga-
ged to upiiold; and the declaration of his voice to the
meek and constant, the devout and docile Jewess, is a
pledge, also, to you, that it shall never be taken away
from vou.

SERIVTON LXXXV.

-«o^-

THE KINGDOM OF GOD.

LuKK, xiii. 18, 19.

Then said he, Unto what is the kinsilom of God iikt:
and u'hercunto shall I rcsrmhlc it ^ It is like a i^niin
of mustard seed, whieh a man took and ea,st into his
garden; and it grew, and waxed a great tree; and
the fowls of the air lodged in the branches of it.

JL HE kingdom of God, is an expression of various
significations in the sacred volume. Sometimes is
meant by it, the universal dominion of Deity; some-
times, the final blessedness to uhich the saints are,
heirs; and, in a more confined sense, it fre(|uently sig-
nifies, the Gospel state, or Church of Christ. In this
last sense, it is used in the text; and the thing signi-
fied, is illustrated by a comparison, remarkable for tha(

J

KINGDOM OF GOD. 423

aptness and beauty, with which all the Saviour's para-
bles arc distiniiuished. " Unto what is the kingdom
ofCjodlike; and whoreunto shall I resemble it? It is
like a g;rain of mustard seed, which a man took and
cast into his garden, and it grew, and waxed a great
tree ; and the fowls of the air lodged in the branches
of it." This parable is worthy of our attentive con-
sideration. The illustration of it may instruct, and
the inferences from it may confirm us, in that faith^
which, to have received, is our greatest privilege, and
to retain which, is eternal life.

We are first led by the resemblance, to which the
Saviour likens iiis kiiigdom, to remark, the srnallness
of Christianity in its begimiing. Seeking for the sym-
bol with careful consideration, he chooses one, |)rover-
bial among the Jews for littleness, the smallest object,
possessed of life and expansive force. Small as is the
symbol, it is not smaller than the thing it was designed
to represent. An obscure prophecy, was the first
germ of Christianity, and its only label, a simple rite;
the pro|)hecy, (iod's promise to tin? woman, and sacri-
fice, the rite. We are not to look for the mustard seed,
in the ap|)carance of Christ, nor in the paucity and
poverty of the first Apostles. Christianity boasts a
greater age. Tracing it only to the visible ministry of
Christ, some have greatly erred ; and very many scep-
tics, more esi)ecially the ingenious, yet subtle, Volney,
have supported upon the error, the dangerous small
arms with which they have assaulted our holy religion.
They have adduced the notions, mysteries, and rites,
of more ancient ages, and different nations; and have
rei)resented these, as the elements which imposture
borrowed of antiquity, and wrought into a cunning
fable, which passes in the world for revelation.
Whereas these very notions, mysteries, and rites, are
nothing more, than faint imitations, or distorted parts,
of the stupendous apparatus, which, from the fall of
man, was put in operation to effect his recovery, and

424 KINGDOM OF GOD.

introduce " the kingdom of God." Christianity, is
older than they all. They owe their oriiiin, to eorrup-
tions of the |)ron)ises, types and symbols, whieh pre-
pared the way of the Messiah; and not one of them,
perhaps, that has any majesty or sienificance, would
ever have existed, but for the redemption wrought for
us, from the remotest age, and unfolded in the Ciosi)el.
As soon as justice took cognizance of man's transgres-
sion, mercy promised the deliverer; and it was then,
the " mustard seed" was cast into the garden ; the
seed of Mf5slah''5 kingdom sown. From that solenm
period we date; from that dark promise, we trace the
rise and progress of " the things which belong to our
peace." Little in its beginning, as this obscure hint,
its expansive force was soon exerted. The rite of
sacrifice soon succeeded. In that, in tin? sei)aration
of the " pecidiar peoi)le," in their institutions, the
shadows of good things to come, the seed lay con-
cealed, and swelling, and ready to burst into humble,
yet i)erpetual life. They, therefore, have rudely mis-
taken their cause, who would derive our religion Jroui
the "beggarly elements" of heathen antiquities.
Thongh exceedingly small, enough so to be as unob-
served as the " mustard seed" sown in the ground, its
beginning was before the posterities of Adam. Wc
have ever to bless our God, that, as early as death laid
claim to our race, the seed, whose fruit is to nourish
us unto inmiortality, was sown by his hand; and, in
due season, made to spring up into lively appearance,
before an expecting and wondering world.

This brings me to remark, from the image which
Christ furnishes in the text, of " the kingdom of God,"
its progressive character. Already we have noticed
its gradual exi)ansion in types and pro[)hecies, till it
burst into life. In the visible ministry of the Messiah,
and promulgation of the Gosjjel, it assumed its defi-
nite appearance. This took place tmder the most
unfavourable circumstances. The soil in which it

KINGDOM OF GOD. 425

appeared, was incongruous with its nature, and the
clime inclement. In its genuine state, Christianity
had to withstand many a blast; to endure both chilling
cold, and scorching heat; to encounter every thing
which could threaten to check its growth, and crush it
in the dust. But it was a plant of an inherent vigour,
which no climate could kill, nor rudeness impair; and,
under the fostering care of Him who rules all seasons,
and disposes all events, it grew daily, it rose in height,
and s[)read the wondcT of the world, it became estab-
lished. Even the most unfavourable circumstances,
were made to contribute to its increase. Persecution
lopped off its goodliest boughs; but this gave strength
to the body, and the more it was curtailed of its
branches, the more did it thrive. Corru|)tion caused
its fairest blossoms to fade and decay. But under an
all-wise providence, they fell at its root, and nourished
the life, which they had left. At length, the super-
natural props which had supported, and guided, its
earliest growth, became unnecessary. It needed no
longer the aid of miraculous powers, and they were
removed. " Kings b(!came its nursing fathers, and
queens its nursing mothers." Protected by its holy,
lovely form; supported by its intrinsic excellence; cul-
tivated assiduously by faith and zeal; and blessed with
the kindliest influences of heaven, it has exhibited a
growth, and acquired a greatness, unparalleled, in its
particular circumstances, in the annals of the world;
and has, or has had, a name and a praise in most of
the nations of the earth. During this progressive state,
it has, indeed, been injured much, and at various peri-
ods, by unfriendly gales, and the hands of ignorant or
depraved cultivators. In our own age, it has experi-
enced terrible shocks. Corruption's worms have fat-
tened on its trunk; and infidelity, with her most des-
tructive winds, has attempted to overturn it, or to
blast its beauty. But, goodly, like the young cedar of
Lebanon, it resists the worm, and thrives; firm, like
vol.. If. 54

42G KINGDOM OF GOD.

the oak upon the mountain's side, it stands inspirins
awe, and scarcely g;ives the tn'mulousness of its leaves
to the conflicting ?ales. I sfop; and looking back
through the lon°, Ions l>eriod of two thousand years,
beliold, with astonishment, a religion, whose author
was crucified, and its i)ri)pa2ators twelve of the most
despised of men, whose doctrines were opposed to the
dearest tenets and pursuits of the world, and whose
only arms and friends, under heaven, were its truth
and its merits, rising from tlie smalles>t seed, with such
steady growtli, withstanding every injury of time and
weather, acquiring place, and strength, and magnitude,
in half the earth; and in tliose portentous days, when
the heavens arc overcast with unuonted clouds, and
the earth is shaken witli a strange convulsion, present-
ing to tlie confused " fowls of the air,'* the oidy
bianches in which they can lodge, with composure
and safety. " It stands fast for ever and ever; and is
done in truth and equity." Verily, it " is the Lord's
doing; and it is marvellous in our eyes."

This brings me to ()))serve, that the paiahlr carries
us forward to a perfected growth, and triumphant state
of " tlie Gospel kingdom." Though now it presents
the sure refuge to all people, its branches are not
filled; there is room for much further growth, and
dread occasion for nnieli pruning. As }et, deliling
vines cling to the stately tree, obstructing its spread,
and defacing its beauty. As yet, the Jews " look"
not " on him w hom they pierced ;" and to many Gen-
tile tribes, the cross is '* foolishness." As yet, there
is need to cry to the children of men, know ye the
Lord; and many of them arc fluttering wildly, and
wandering into dangers, for want of the iilaccs in
which they may find rest and shelter. But the figure,
by which the Cliurch is described, and which has ap-
peared hitherto so apt and exact, apprizes us of a ma-
ture, and triumphant state, of the Hedcemer's king-
dom. The plant of the little seed, tlirough its pro-

KliNGDOM OF GOD. 427

ijressive growth, is to attain to a perfect height, and
strength and greatness. It is to become a great tree;
yea, greater than all the trees that arc in the earth.
Its root is fixed; and it shall continue to extend its
growth, till all the inhabitants of our world, rejoice in
ihe shadow of the branciieS of it.

The Christian religion is composed of such ele-
ments; there are in it such princiiiU s and arrange-
ments, as suggest, of themselves, that if it is true, it is
designed for universal extension, and perpetual dura-
tion. From the wisdom of the divine governuKMit,
and the analogy of tiie works of God, we should also
infer, that its course would be progressive; and liiat
having advanced under his special blessing to its j)re-
.^ent state, it will continue to advance, till the vast end
to which it is adapted, shall be fully accomplished, and
it shall reach the maturity, without wiiich, its perfec-
tion cannot be developed, nor its utility realized, in all
its extent. In the view of reason, it is much more
plausible now, that it shall, in the fulness of time,
become a great tree, and hll" the earth, than it was at
its beginning, that it woidd cv(u- attain to its present
height, strength, and greatness.

But, it is chiefly from the proi)hecies and revelations
of Scrljiture, that we derive instruction concerning this
interesting truth. They lead us to expect, that in an
appointed time, the Gospel will spread itself over the
world; and the Church of Christ, purified and ex-
tended, become the ark of all nations and |)eoide. In
dark figures, mysterious symbols, and suhlime predic-
tions, they declare these truths. But indistinct as are
the details, enough is evident to assure us, that as " the
comparison" wherewith the Saviour " compared" his
kingdom, has, hitherto, through so many centuries,
been exactly verified, so it siiall, at length, in the uni-
versal extension of the knowledge and blessings of the
Gospel, have a complete fulfilment. For the i)rotec-
tion. jiourishmcnt, and maturity of this tree, which the

428 KINGDOM OF GOD.

Most High hath planted, his providence is engaged,
and his word pledged. " It shall stretch its boughs
unto the sea, and its branches unto the rivers;" and in
its presence, every idol grove shall bo made to wither,
and every plant of error shall be rooted out. No
weapon formed against it siiall prosper. It may be
shaken, and some of its leaves which harbour corrup-
tion, or have lost their verdure, shall fall; but its root
is immoveable, and its strength is eternal, and it shall
not cease to multiply its branches, till it shall have
spread itself " from sea to sea, and from the river, to
the ends of the earth."

Fastening our eyes upon the miraculous reservation
of the Jews, as a i)ledge of the completion of these
great promises, it is our duty to ponder with attention
these gracious pur[)Oses of tiie Most High, and to re-
joice, with faith and becoiiiing iiratitude, in the gr«'at-
ness and glorious destiny of our iioly reli;.ion. Bear-
ing ever in mind the Saviour's reply to the too inquisi-
tive Peter, " It is not for you to know the times or
the seasons, which the 'Father hath put in his own
power," we should, with reverent humility, check our
inquiries where the Almighty hath assigned limits to
them; and maintain a stc^adfast confidence in the wis-
dom of his arrangements, and the certainty of his
word. Appreciating, faithfully, our own privilege and
happiness, in having been brought " to the knowledge
of his grace, and faith in him," we should contribute, by
all the means wiiich he hatii put in our power, to the
extension of his kingdom, and when we offer the peti-
tion, which we are taught and commanded to offer
daily, that this kingdom may come, we should ofler it
with the utmost devotion of our souls, both with an
eye to the glory of our God, and a generous concern for
the instruction, and salvation of all our fellow men.

We liave now consi<iered tlie beautiful, and exact
resemblance furnished by Christ of the kingdom of
God. 'j'herc are infcicuces from this subject, of great

KINGDOM OF GOD. 429

weii^ht and variety. Let me entreat your patience,
while I adduce Only a few which are too instructive to
be omitted.

The first is, that this is one of those singularly im-
portant comparisons, or j)arables, ^^ hich are not only
illustrative, but prophetic. We are to remember, that
it was usecV eighteen hundred years ago, when the
Christian Church was as small and feeble, as the germ
just starting into life, from its seed. Had Jesus
Christ been any other than he declared himself; had
he not come from CJod, he could not have known, that
his cause would n( t he crushed at its birth ; and would
never have hazarded, upon ground altogether uncer-
tain, a prediction, whose failure must have betrayed
his falsehood and defeated his design. The |)rogress
of the Gospel, thus far, is evidence that its author had
an intuition of the far distant course of events. He
spake his parable, with the confidence, which his pre-
science only could have inspired* and the i)rediction it
involves, will appear to the humble and sincere inqui-
rer, as a daily attestation of th(^ truth of the religion,
in support of which it was uttered. For wiio, but one
acquainted u ith the counsels of the Almighty, would
have ventured to pronounce, that the little seed of the
Gospel kingdom, should becoint; a great tree, and fill
the earth? >\ ho, that had tluis pronounced, could,
under the government of that Being who heareth not
sinners, have had his prediction so wondcfully fulfil-
led?

Another important inrcrcnce, from what has been
said is, that the Gospel is the object of constant provi-
dential care. It much favours its claim to be consid-
ered as the work of God, that it is analogous in its
course to his otiier operations. There is a method
with the Most High. His works are all progressive.
There is a gradation of cause and effect, in all the
oiJcrations of his hands. The course of revelation, is
in striking harmony with this method. As the day

430 KINGDOM OF GOD.

gradually rises from its dawn, to noonday splendour;
as the year gradually unfolds the successive perfections
of its seasons; as the i)lant springs from its seed, and
gradually gro\ys to its maturity: as every thing in na-
ture advances to its end, by steps of a constant and
majestic order, so Christianity has hrcn i^ro^ressive;
not flashed upon the world with sudden gf;ire, like the
transient li^htninff, but systematically introduced,
established, and developed, according to his uniform
method, who " worketh all in all." Although it has
been made a noisy objection, that this religion was not
earlier promulgated, and in resistless manner, to the
reflecting mind the preparation that preceded it, its
small beginning, gradual e\|)aiJsion, and steady pro-
gress towards its maturity, point to the same delib-
erate hand, to which we refer the works of creation
that surround us.

But more especially the inadequateness of the means
to the effect, obliges us, when cont(>mplating the rise
and progress of the Gospel, to acknowledge an agency,
invisible and Almighty. Survey the venerable oak.
As you trace back its astonishing growth to a small
acorn, dying in the earth, do you not perceive irresist-
ible evidence of an invisible, and intelligent power,
framing in embryo its curious parts, giving it life, con-
ducting its growth, and bringing it to its majestic form
and maturity? You surely do. For where, but in
the wisdom and power of the Creator, can be found
adequate cause of the wonderful i)roccsi>I liut look
now at the religion of the Gospel. Retrace its progress
back to its small origin. Observe how curiously and
wonderfully its parts are formed and connected. Be-
hold, how, without human aid, it has struggled
through every difliculty which could obstruct its
growth, or impair its beauty. See it rise; mark its
increase; and contemplate the prospect of its unlimited
extention. Do this and say, if ye do not perceive,
that it must have been from the beginning the work of

KINGDOM OF GOD. 431

God ; that as the object of your Creator's care, it is of
divi'ie origin, and entitled to your reverence and devout
regard! Who hath heard such a thing! Who hath
seen sucli a thing! The growth of this tree of life,
from the little seed cast in the garden, demands for its
explanation the agency of infinite wisdom and power.
And by this in the moral, as " by the things which are
made," in the natural world, " the invisible things" of
Jehovah are "clearly" manifested, "even his eternal
power and Godhead." So that the unbeliever and the
sinner are without excuse.

The last infciunce I shall make, from the Saviour's
lively representation of his kingdom is, the encourage-
ment it is calculated to aflbrd, to bis pious discii)les, in
times unfavourable to Christianity, when the laugh of
the scorner, and the delusions of vice, prevail. It is in
times, when many are ofiended at his doctrines, that
the Saviour has occasion to say to his nearest friends,
"will ye also go away.'" It is in the seasons, when
the overflowing of ungodliness makes him afraid, that
the good man, like Eli, will be on " the way side
watching," with " his heart trembling for the ark of
God." But, when his spirit is sinking within him,
aitd anxiety and perplexity are seizing upon his
thoughts, he can repose with consolation upon the
divine assurance, that the plant, which " his heavenly
Father hath planted," is rooted in the earth by his un-
alterable decree; that it shall there stand and flourish,
in defiance of every worm, and every wind, which may
assail it; that storms and tempests, shall only serve to
free it of its lil'elcss wood and leaves, and establish it
more firmly, with more renowned greatness.

Such, Christians, is the illustration, and such are
the inferences of the " comparison," wherewith our
blessed Lord hath " comi)ared" the kingdom of God.
U|)on the whole it appears, that this goodly tree, is
the hope of our world. Let, then, the rich befriend it
with their fosterisig aid. as affordiu;: the safest shade-,

432 KINGDOM OF GOD.

beneath which they may enjoy their privileges and
blessings. Let the poor gather themselves around it,
as yielding the only odours, with which their weary
spirits may be refreshed. And let all the good, unceas-
ingly ask the dews of heaven upon it, that reaching,
ere long, its promised maturity, its fruit may be for
meat, and its " leaves for tiic healins of the nations."

SERJMON LXXXVI.

COME TO JESUS OF NAZARETH AND BE
HEALED.

St. Luke, xviii. 37.

And they told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passeth by.

i O whom was this told ; and what were the effects
of the information? It was told to one, in whose
bodily infirmity, there was a figure of our spiritual
condition; and the effects of the information were an
imase of the deliverance which we may have, through
the Redeemer. I ask your attention to this interesting
story, that you, *' through patience and comfort of this
Scripture, may have hope."

We will first attend to the subject of the miracle,
which the Gospel records. There are four things

VOL. II. 55

434 COME TO JESUS.

concerning him worthy of observation ; his condition,
a blind beggar; his application for help, under the
sense of his blindness, to Jesus of Nazareth, as soon as
he heard of him; his perseverance, notwithstanding
the obstacles which were thrown in the way; and
his wonderful recovery of his sight.

A bhnd beggar! Can a condition bo conceived,
more humble, more helpless, more deplorable! In a
spiritual sense, it is the condition of every sinner, lie
sees not God ; he sees not -alvalion : he sees not peace.
By the fall, his understanding is darkened. I3y reason
of the film, which his iniquities have spread over his
spiritual sight, the light of God's countenance, which
shines eternally upon his creatures, is not seen. On
the way side of life, he is poor and blind, de|)endent,
for guidance, upon any one who will undertake to
lead him, and for gratification, u|)on the [littnnce of
pleasnre which he begs of some passion, or the tidings,
which he asks of the traveller concerning vain, and
temporal things. " I counsel thee," says one, who
alone is worthy to advise, " I counsel thee to anoint
thine eyes \\ith eye salv(», that thou mayest see; for
thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind."
So unhappy is the condition of this blind beggar, that
when he feels his necessities, he sees not of whom he
may ask for help; and when the Saviour passes bj',
who can restore to him his vision, and satisfy iiim
with bread, he asks through his blindness, " what it
means." And the greatest misfortmu! is, that he is
less anxious to be delivered from his spiritual, than
from bodily wretchedness; a disposition, which is
illustrated and rei)roved, in the second thing to b«' no-
ticed, concerning the beggar on the way to Jericho, his
immediate application for help, under the sense of his
blindness, to him who was able to heal him. " They
told him, that Jesus of Nazareth passed by. And he
cried, saying, Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy
on me." Jesus of Nazareth! Ilis fame was now

QOMT. TO .TESTIS. 435

spread abroad. He was approved amply of God, by
sisns and wonders which he wrought. This blind
be^sar had heard that, by him, " the blind received
sight, and the lame did walk, the lepers were cleansed,
and the deaf did hear, the dead were raised up, and
to the poor the Gospel was preached." Of his cha-
racter as the Messiah, he had obtained some know-
ledge, for he addressed him as the " son of David."
Probably, he had heard of his wonderful compassion,
that none who sought of liim deliverance from misery,
however poor, or friendless, or wretched, were turned
away. Perha()s he recollected, without understanding
the spiritual import, that in the days of the " son of
David," the eyes of the blind should be opened. At
any rate, he who might heal him, was passing by. Fie
would not wait for a better opportunity. He would
not stop to calculate the probability of success. With-
out asserting any claim to his help; yea, with a con-
sciousness that he had nothing to give, in compensation
for his cure, he immediately cast himself upon the pity
of the Redeemer; he cried, "Jesus, thou son of Da-
vid, have mercy on me." And thus should the blind
beggar in the spiritual sense, seek for deliverance.
The fame of Jesus, as the Saviour of sinners, has
been spread abroad through all ages. Prophets have
proclaimed it. Apostles have declared it. His own
miracles of grace, have testified it. By raising him
from the dead, God hath also ai)i)roved him unto all
men, as his messenger to this lower world, to give sal-
vation to its sinful inhabitants, by the remission of
sins. Destitute of the joys, and benefits, of the light
of life, exposed to innumerable perils and privations,
poor and friendless, shall sinful men, when this Mes-
siah, who is " mighty to save," passes near them,
neglect to call upon him, defer to seek his help!
AVhat, though they have no claim to his assistance !
"What, though they cannot remunerate his love ! He
offers his mercy " without money, and without price."

436 COME TO JESUS.

With confidence in the fame they have heard of his
power, and the declarations the Ahiiishty hath ?iven
of his authority, they should stretch out thrir hands to
him as needy supplicants, and beg the mercy, which is
Jehovah's alms. " Jesus, thou son of David, have
mercy on us." They will not cry in vain, if they
imitate the blind begjinr in

The third thins; to be noticed in him, viz: his per-
severance, notwithstanding; the obstacles which were
thrown in his nay. "And tliry who went before,
rebuked him, tiiat he shoidd hold his peace; but he
cried so much the more. Thou Son of David, have
mercy on me." Great, and innumerable anMhe diffi-
culties whic!i sinners may have to surniount, in comins;
to Christ. How shall I, says one, u ho is poor and
naked, mean and desi)ised, look for a plac«^ in the
Church of tlie sniiits, or expect any notice from the
ministers of the sacred pools: \Vhat, savs an uncha-
ritable nmltitude, concerning the ignorant and stupid,
the blindest and poorest bef:;fiars by the way side, can
th< se expect to attract the attention of the Son of God,
and to be made heirs of his covenant, and of the
household of the Most Hii;ii' Hold thy peace,
wretched sinncM*, saith the achcrsary. Cease from thy
])rayers, thy liopes, and tiiy inquiries. Canst thou
hope for deliverance, whose sins have caused thee to
be given up to blindness, who art too wicked to be
repuded by CiodI Thus, the worhl derides: con-
science inlimidates; the adversary terrifies. But a
sense of his dangers and miseries; and confidence in
the power niul niercy of tiie Saviour, will render the
sinner imporiuuatcs and jjcrsevering in his prayers.
The pressure upon him of his miseries and dang;er,
togeth(U- with his appn hension of the power of the
Messiah, to set him free, will not suifer him to remit
his importunity. He will supplicate so much the more
earnestly, as God the longer deferreth to deliver him.
Like the blind man in this Gospel, \a hose persevc-

COME TO JESLS. 457

ranee is recorded for our instruction, obstacles and
delay will add strength to his cries; he will continue
to call till Jesus hears him.

The success and happiness of such perseverance,
are taught us in the fourth thing we have to notice,
concerning the subject of this miracle, the wonderful
recovery of his sight. " And Jesus said unto him,
Receive; thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee. And
imnu'diately he received his sight, and followed him,
glorifying God." Who can forbear to picture to him-
self, the joy which now rushed as a torrent over the
blind begiiju's heart. The sun in the heavens he saw
with delight, and wonder; the face of nature trans-
ported him with its beauty and sublimity, and the
relations and proportions of all its parts. He gazed
upon till' fair colours of the llowers, which had re-
freshed him \\ith a fragrance that came from objects
mIiicIi lie cduld not behold. lie lifted his eyes with
admiration to the source of that heat, u hich had some-
limes imparted to his impoverished frame, a genial
warmth, with the origin of which, and its transcendant
glory, he was unaccpiainted. He f«^lt, too, free. He
saw the face of man. He walked without a leader.
What ^^onder, that he clung to the being, who had
gi\('n him such indcixiidence, and opened to him such
views and hopes! Well might "he follow Jesus, glo-
rifying God." This is but one of many instances, in
w hich our Lord seemed not to hearken to the prayer
of the poor destitute, till their earnestness had been
proved, and their faith and perseverance manifested.
And as the importunate widow overcame by her con-
tinual su|)plieations, even the unjust "Judge, who
feared not God, nor regarded man," so God will help
the needy who cry day and night unto him, though he
bear long with tiieni. Nor will their joy, and the
sources of their Iiai)piness be less, than the blind man's,
when he turncth him unto their prayer, and granteth
their de>ire. His reconciled "countenance." thev will

438 COME TO JESUS.

behold pleasant and glorious, " as the sun shining iu
his strength." Faith, and hope, and charity; and all
the objects of the moral world, will be seen in all their
beauty, and grandeur; their [)roporti()ns, and relations
to each other. The source of the pood feelings which,
while yet tliey were blind, occasionally wanned their
souls, will be seen; and the fair complexions of the
graces, with whose benevolent deeds they were occa-
sionally refreshed. They see man in his true character
and destiny. They feel tiicir spirits fn'e. They lift
ui) their eyes, and a heaven is seen above, ethereal,
unbounded, glorious, and, beyond the rc.ich of their
spiritual vision, they ima::ine regions of immortality,
where God dwells. To these regions, th«'y hope to
come. Of the Joys of this immortality, the restoration
of their sight is a pledge to them, ihey shall one day
share. And how shall they forhcar to follow him, to
whom they owe this " great salvation !''

From Bartimeus, we turn to Jesus of Nazareth;
from the conduct of the !»lind beggar, to the conduct
of the Son of God, who gave him sight. Three
things here deserve our consideration; the extent of
Iiis benevolence, his gracious condescension, and his
ascription to the blind man's faith, of tl»e salvation
which he foimd.

The extent of our Lord's benevolent e, is worthy of
remark. It embraces the w hole human race. The
rich and honourable counsellor of Arimathea, and the
blind beggar on the way from Jericho, are alike ob-
served by him, and ha\c his regard. In like manner,
his rcdeniption embraces all mankind. The penitent
J^lagdalen shares it with faiihful Abraham. No sin-
ner is so far removed from God, that he may not be
brought nigh by tlie blood of Christ. Poor blind man
by the way side, despair not to call upon Jesus, if he
come in thy way. He died for thee.

Another tiling remarkable in the conduct of our
I.ord is, his gracious condescension. He " stood, and

COME TO JESUS. 439

commanded him to be broiislit unto him; and when
he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt
thou that I shall do unto thee? And he said, Lord,
that I may receive my sisiit. And Jesus said unto
him, Receive thy si£,ht; thy faith hath saved thee."
The Son of God, the heir of all worlds, stops on his
way to hearken to the prayer of a blind beggar; he
calls him to him, and enters into an inquiry concerning
his wishes and his wants, and this for our instruction ;
that when awed by the greatness of our Creator, and
overwhelmed by the distance between him and us, Ave
may be encouraged to call upon him, and hoi)e in his
name. The blind n)an put contidencc in his goodness,
and obtained jiis desire.

it is imi>ortant to be observed, that the faith of this
suppliant, procured him his relief. The Scriptures
give us no example, of any blessing obtained from our
Saviour, without this (piality. " If thou believest." —
" All things are possible to hini that believcth." And
again ; *' O, woman, great is thy faith ; bi' it tjuto thee,
even as thou wilt.'' And here, in the case before us,
Jesus said unto him, " Receive thy sight, thy faith
hath saved thee." Awakened sinner; wouldst thou
share the mercies, and come unto him, believing that
thy God hath sent him into the world, for thy redemp-
tion? Have confidence in his goodness, and the suffi-
ciency of his power to save thee. If there were no
other reason why faith should be required of thee, it
were a sufficient and an awful one, which St. John
hath given; " He that believeth not God, hath made
him a liar; because he beliveth not the record thai
God gave of his Son. And this is the record, that
God hath givcu to us eternal life, and this life is in
his Son,"

Brethren, the application of this interesting portion
of Scripture is to yourselves. God has i)laced you,
though blind and poor, in liie way in which you may
hear of his Son the Redeemer. When you hear the

440 COME TO JESUS.

voices of the Prophets, and the movements of the
types, and the sacrifices are set before you, do von ask
what it meanetli? "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."
Wlien the Church calU^tli you to joy in a Cliristnias, to
jkeep a Lent, to solemnize a Good Friday, to observe
an Easter, to celebrate an Ascension, do you ask what
itmeaneth? " Jesus of Nazareth passrth by.'' When
the altar of God hath upon it, its white covering, and
there are placed thereon bread and wine, and the
Priests stand by it, in det-pcst humility and hii;liest
adoration, do you ask what it mcainMh." " Jt'sus of
Nazareth passeth by." Are your drsires to po to him
for the salvation you need, restrained by your bars, or
the opposition of the enemy, or the cavils of an evil
world? Rise, he calleth you. Are you guilty ? He
calleth you to i)ardon. Are you feeble? He calleth
you to srace. Are you afDictcd? He calleth you to
consolation. Are you mortal? He calleth >ou to
eternal life. " Come unto me," saith he, " all ye that
travel, and are heavy laden, and 1 will j^ive you rest."
Be not deterred, then, by the dilViculties in the way.
Lay aside the upper j:arment of your own sufllciency.
It may entangle you in going to Jesus. Think not of
your claim to his help. Regard not your inability to
compcnsat(^ him for your cure. Have faith in his cha-
racter. Have faith in his pity, and his power. His
name is Saviour. Contemplate him by his name, and
cry to him perseveringly, '' Jesus, thou Son of David,
have mercy on me." He standcth still when the poor
calleth; " he also will hear their prayer, and will hel|»
them."

SERJMON LXXXVn*

THE RICH AND THE GREAT, BEGGING
THE BODY OF JESUS.

Matthew, xxvii. 5S.

He went to Pilate, and begged the body of Jesits.

-I HE fate of the body of our blessed Lord, after his
crucifixion, is a very interesting part of his history.
You have often heard, that it passed from the cross
into the hands of Joseph of Arimathea, and by him,
being affectionately embalmed with S|)ices, and wrap-
ped in clean linen, was deposited in a sepulchre in his
garden. Many a pious Christian has, doubtless, envied
this Arimathean his felicity, in possessing the body of

* Preached on a Communioo Sunday.

VOL. II. 56

442 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS.

his Lord. You all, when readiiiii tlic narrativp, have
admired the constancy of his affection, his resolution,
and his |)ious fidelity. But there are riirumstanees of
this transaction, in the reading; of ^^ liich, it may be,
the uses they give it have not been noticed, nor tiic
instructions they suggest, regarded. About to go ui)
to the table of the Lord to receive that which he hath
left us as his body, tiiese circumstances may be well
brought to our recollection, and made subjects of our
meditation. Tiiey relate to the event we arc to com-
memorate. They are instructive, some one or other
of them, to all.

In the first place, he whom we here find begging
" the body of Jesus," ^^ as rich. " There was a rich
man of Arimaihea, named Josepli, uho also liimselt
was Jesus' disciple." It is |)h'asant to find tlie rich
among the disciples of the Lord. To his merits and
intercession, they owe wliatevt^ good things they en-
joy. By their inlluence in society, and the conspicu-
ousness of their examples, they may reniler him the
greatest service. And amidst more cares and tempta-
tions than others, having more to resist whih' they five,
and more to leave when they die, they have the most
need of the guards and consolations of his lioly religion.
Of tlic benefits, particularly, uhich the Lord's Su|»per
was instituted to convey, they may avail themselves
with the greater advantage. Nowhere can the sanc-
tifying influences of iiis body, be more necessary or
useful, than amidst the possessions and dangers of the
affluent. Disdain not, >e rich, to beg it at his table.
Affluence, wiih rciiiiion, is a blessing from God, and
beneficial to the worKI. But, irreligious affluence, is
the greatest ingratitude to the Most High, and |)erni-
cious in its influence among men. 'J'he good Arinia-
thean, " who himself al^o was Jesus' disciple," was
rich.

Further. This jierson, whose care to obtain the
l)ody of Christ, lias given him an unpcrishable renown,

BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 44^

was in })ublic life. He was an " honourable" man,
and a " counsellor." And though with God, there is
no respect of persons, yet for men, and for themselves,
it is happy, when public characters are guided by the
princi|jles, observe the ordinances, and are adorned
with the graces of religion. They, in an especial
manner, need her influences to sustain them, under the
burden of their cares, and i)reserve them in their nu-
merous liabilities to evil. And it is of great utility to
n\\ orders in society, when they who are to rule, or to
teach others, ar(; seen submitting themselves obedi-
ontly to the ordinances of liie Almighty. Refrain not,
ye who are in stations of trust, or of power, from
seeking in the sanctuary of her strength, the blessings
of religion. Go to her altar, to contem|)late and
crave the body of Jesus. Ainitlst the fears and perils
of your place, it will inspire you with strength, and
holy hope. Amidst tiie ingratitude, and querulousness,
and slander, to wiiich (hose who in public stations,
are always exposed, it will teach you to bear, and to
forgive. It will teach you to i)ersevere, as far as you
are able, in "doing good to all men," even to your
enemies. It will cleanse your spirits, if, amidst the
exposures, and turmoils, and injuries of life, they have
been sullied with u rong passions, or evil desires. It
will give rest to your souls, amidst the fatigues of busi-
ness, and anxieties of fidelity, by opening to them,
again and again, that hai)i>iness of heaven, of which
" the body of Jesus" is the i)ledge to the faithful. Nor
will religion ever fail, to give to those w ho seek her in
public life, their highest grace. More to be valued is
the precious oil of that sanctity, which she sheds uj»on
the heads of her votaries, than any laurels which pro-
claim their heroism, or bays that crown their wisdom.
Vou see it among princes, in the great Alfred. You
see it among counsellors in that model of Christian
sanctity, Chief Justice Hale. Nor are there wanting,
among ihc mo'Jt estimable of the public officers of

444 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS.

our own country, some, who are seen going humbly
to the altar of God, and " begging the body of Jesus.'^
It is believed that, in Christian countries, there are
many among the rich, and among those in public sta-
tions, wlio would gladly stnnd among the disciples of
the Redeemer. But they shrink from the opinion of
ihe world; of that world, too, which is evil, and
whose " friendship is enmity \\iih Clod." We will
pass, therefore, to notice, in tiie third |)lace, the reso-
lution of the faithful Arimatiiean, in the act recorded
of him in tiie text. " He went to Pilate, and begged
the body of Jesus." Tiiis man was a Jew. 1 1 is own
kindred ;ind nation, had caused Christ to be slain. By
the peo|)le among whom he dwelt, the crucified .lesus
was held in derision. Not oidy contempt and scorn,
but persecution and licnth awaited his followers. But
Joseph " was Jesus' disciple.*' The body of his Lord,
of his friend, of his Saviour, was not to be lightly re-
garded, nor timidly neglected, thoui;h all men should
desert it but himself. He presses forward to obtain it,
through the levity and sarcnsms of his n«*ighl)Ours. lie
presses forwarvl, through the scorn of :in uidu-lieving
world. It is, indeed, the hody of a crucified man.
But it is the crucifixion of iliat body, which procurrs
the pardon of his sins, and restores iiim to the favour
of Cod. It is the body of the Being, who hath given
himself for him, tluough whom alone, he, a sinner,
hatii hope of evcrlastiii:; life. lie thinks not, what he
shall hn/ard. lie minds nor, what the uanton and
the tliouuhth^ss \\ ill s;iy of him. To obtain the pre-
cious body, lie presses forward, even into the ))resencr
of Pilate; of that Pilate, who had delivered up Christ
as a malefactor, and, prohably, looked upon his fol
lowers, with pity and contempt, as miserable childrcji
of delusion. Even into the presence of Pilate does
Joseph press to obtain the body of his Lord; regard-
loss, alike, of the inquisition of t!ie Roman Kovernor,
and tiie srorn and d<Mision of elvaled life. Ii(^ " went

BEGGING THE BODY OP JESUS. 445

in boldly unto Pilate," says St. Mark, " and craved
the body of Jesus." Hallowed constancy! Trans-
cendpnt resolution of pious affection ! Were a spirit
like thine, thou saint of the Most High God, in the
hearts of the Christians to whom this body is offered,
would they turn their backs, lest a thoughtless, and
profane world, should point at them, as religionists,
deluded or insincere! It is to be feared, that many,
particularly among the rich, and the great, and the
younger part of the Christian community, are deterred
from avowing their respect for Christianity, and its in-
stitutions, and especially from going to the sacrament
of the Lord's Su|)per, by a regard to the opinion, a
fear of the remarks, a subjection to the influence, of
the world. But, Christians, is it not the body of your
only Saviour which is there offered you? Is it not the
body, without which you could have had no pardon of
your sins? Is it not the body of Him who died for your
redemption, and whose blood hath i)urchascd heaven
for you? And can the opinion of the world, weigh
any thing against your obligation to receive that body?
So long as you neglect to do so, are you not living in
an habitual disregard of the commandment of the
Lord, and, consequently, in habitual sin?

But it may be said, ue arc immersed in the busi-
ness, anil the pleasures of life; we are not in a situa-
tion favourable to religion; how shall we use '' the
body of .lesus?" Ah, this is the error! As if there
were any situation, in which religion is not needful
for man; as if the Deity had required any thing of all
men, which the condition in which he has placed any
one, unfits him to ])erform! Wh.at did Joseph with
the body of Jesus nlu'n he had obtained it? He took
it into his gardt^i. He deposited, he kept it there.
And thus sliould all his disciples do. We all have
gardens of our delight; some, in the domestic circle;
some, in the regions of business; some, near the walks
of nmbilion. or of science: and ^ome. on pleasure's

446 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS.

grounds. Wherever they are, we need, while wc
walk in them, the body of our Lord, to remind us of
sinfuhiess and the heinousnoss of sin; to assure us of
pardon, and a better life; and to impel us to the love
and service of our Creator. And, surely, the hosts of
heaven are where the body of the Lord is; surely, it
repelleth the evil one, who, at the siiiht of the blood of
the Redeemer, relinquisheth his hold upon his prey;
surely, where it had been, angels met the beloved
disciple, and Peter, and the i)i()iis women, with the
blissful assurances of the resurrection. It is like the
Paschal Lamb. Its blood is the token for preservation
to the destroyer. Because of the infatuating attraction,
and contaminating inlluence of business and pleasure,
we have reason to i^o often to the altar of (iod, to
renew our repentance, and our vows; to be sanctified
again with the blood of the sacrifice which is upon it;
and receive, afresh, the spirit of grace from on high.
Religion does not interfere with any proper business,
or innocent pleasure of life. Her ordinances are not
arrows to wound, but shields to protect us. Never
was the garden of Joseph safer, or plcasant(M*, than
when he had in it, "the body of Jesus." It kept tiie
hosts of heaven near him. One cannot forb(\'ir to
think that, at limes, the Spirit of tiie Lord Cioil talk-
ed there.

But this brings me to the last circumstance of this
transaction, to which yom- attention may happily be
directed; the reward of Joseph's lidelity. It was his
distinguished felicity, that, in his ground, death was
overcome, and the bars of his prison broken, and ever-
lasting life opened to the human race. Here, fust,
was heard, the blissful sound, " The Lord is risen !"
Here, first, broke fortli that light of immortality,
which, from that day, haili brightened every chamber
of the tomb. Plappy Arimathean! Wc may not share
with him in this felicit}. But there is another resur-
rection: a resurrection -from "thedeatii of sin. unto

BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUS. 447

the life of rishtoousness." And when the body of the
Redeemer is taken, and wrapped in the clean linen of
a pure faith, with the spices of affectionate devotion
and obedience, this resurrection is witnessed in the
bosom, into which it was received. And who shall
speak its joy ! It enliveneth life. It giveth " songs in
the night." Its fruit, is present peace and transporting
hope, and its end, an ascension with the conqueror of
death, the deliverer of man, to his kingdom in heaven,
and everlasting life there. Virtually shall every one,
who faithfully receives the body of the Lord, share
with Joseph, the recompense of his fidelity to his Mas-
ter and friend; for he, too, shall witness, and " know
the |)o\ver of his resurrection."

There have been set before you, my hearers, the
striking and instructive circumstances, of this part of
the history of our Lord. May it lead the rich, to be
of His disciples, who, "though he was rich, yet, for
our sakes became poor, that we, through his i)overty
might be rich." If any are hearing me, who arc in
stations of trust or i)o\vcr, may it induce them, amidst
the exposures and cares of their situations, to seek, and
exhibit, the sanctifying influences of religion. JMay it
encourage the young and the fearful, yea, and all the
followers of the Lamb, to go to his altar, without re-
garding the opinion of an evil world, and, witii pious
affection, " crave the body of Jesus." And, Chris-
tians, when you have received it, take it with you into
the gardens of your life. It may be, that its presence
will cause some noxious plants to wither. But not a
plant of goodly qualities, but will flourish more luxu-
riantly; not a flower of innocent beauty, but will
bloom more lovely, by " the body of Jesus." Its pre-
sence in the garden, will consecrate the ground; and
shed an air of solemn majesty, and holy stillness,
which will remind you of another world. As you ad-
vance towards the evening of your day, you will find
yourselves, in whatever walk you may be, bending

448 BEGGING THE BODY OF JESUb.

your steps most willingly towards his sepulchre. On
death, you will muse with most peaceful stillness; and
the hope of resurrection, will come near your souls,
sweeter than the last rays of the departing sun, while
you have near you, and contemplate, with the emo-
tions and expectations it is given to produce, " the body
of the Lord Jesus."

SER]MON LXXXVra.

ON THE COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD.

Rk%ilation, iv. 3.

And there tms n rainbow round about the throne^ in
sight like unto an emerald.

J. O penetrate tlie veil which separates heaven from
our view, and look into its glories, pleasures, and pur-
suits, is the natural desire of the Christian mind. As
the country to which our virtuous friends have, many
of them, departed, and to which, our hopes and steps
are directed by our faith, we cannot help feeling inqui-
sitive about it; every instruction or description which
relates to it, deeply interests our thoughts.

In the beginning of the chapter, from which I have
taken my text, St. John enters upon the relation of the
most beatific vision of this country, which has been

vol.. II. /)7

.450 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD.

yet vouclisafed to any mortal being. Havin- had liis
visual strength perfectfcl, hy the Spirit of (Jod, " he
looked, and behold, a door was opened in lu-nven."
The state, and niajesty of liie J)eity, in his hi-ih abode;
the attendants of his throne; their oeeniiations and
bliss; the economy of the celestial world : its fnrniture
and glories, were unfolded to his sight. And when he
sunk, overwhelmed with the brightness of lh«* di>iilay,
an angel attended to strenL^then and instrnet hitn.

Among the objects in the glorious prosp( et, which
attracted his admiring view, he tells us, in the text,
"there was a rainbow round about the throne" of the
Eternal, "in sight like unto an emerald." An object this,
of singular grand(HU- and expression. Anndst all the
glories of heaven he describes, it may uorihily hold
our consideration awhile : and to ascertain its signifi-
cance, and pursue the reflections it suggests, shall be
our employment of the pas>ing hour.

Kv(M'y one \\ ill pirceive in the raiid)ow, which St.
John describes, an allusion to that beauteous ofl'spring
of di\ine pouer and goodness, in the natural world,
whicii bears the same name. This last, when the
flood had executed the just vengeance of the Most
High, upon an irreclaimabh* world, was given to the
f(^w righteous i)er>oiis ^^ ho had been saved in the ark
jVoin pirishing; as a token to liiem, and it) their pos-
terity for ev( r, that the uau rs of a Hood, shoidd no
more destroy tlio carili. A\\ful was the destruction
tiiey had escaped! Great was the favotir which their
uprightness in the midst of " a crooked and perverse
generation,'' had secured them I Anxious was their
dread preserver to endear himself to them, by miti,:;a-
ling llieir lears, and encouraging their confidt nee in
him. When, therefore, the resentful waves had sub-
sided, and they had passed in the ark to the Ararat of
their safety, mercy triumi)hing hand in hand with jus-
tice, thus addressed them; "I do set my bow in the
. cloud, and ii shall be i\n- a token of a covenant, be-

COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 451

tucrn me and tlio rartli. And it shall come to pass,
when I brini;; a cloud over the earth, that the bow siiall
be seen in the cloud. And I will look upon it, that I
may remombrr the evnlaslin:; covenant between God,
and every livin;; creature of all llesh, that is upon the
earth." Such was the consecration of the Rainbow,
to be to the faitiiful a token of a covenant of mercy,
])etween f.Jod and man, whenever dcsccndin.s; showers,
and a darkened sky, r«M-all his former v(n:;eance on the
URiiodly, or rxrite terrific apprehensions of his power.
Deli:il:tin;; t!ie mind u itii its mild beameous briiihtness,
it seems when it appeurs in ilie murky cloud, to speak
the covenant of which it i> th<' token; to look the
mercy, which it was ordained to si;;nify.

There is a harmony between all parts of the univer-
sal dominion of (lod: au<l froai t!u)se wliicli arc
known, emblems and analogies are borrowed, to fur-
nish us witii proper conceptions of those, with which,
Ave have no natural accpiaiiitance. Cireat s>stems and
dispensations, are dimly represented in small ones.
Kemote and spiritual objects, i)y those which arc; more
sensible. Thus, the flood whicii once scouri^ed the
earth, was typical of tiie linal coullai;ration, from
which shall rise the " new heavens and new earth, in
which dwelleth the ri:j;hteous." Tims, too, the pre*
servation of Noah and his family, was emblematic of
the salvation of the redeemed, in the ark of Christ's
Church. And thus, the si^niticance of the Rainbow,
which surrounds the throne of the Eternal, is sha-
dowed forth in the inferior one, to w iiosc beauty, and
hallowed use, we have just adverted.

We may consider it with respect to Him whom it
surroimds, and with respect to those, by whom it is
beheld.

As it respect the Deity, this emblem of mercy qua-
lifies him, if I may use the expression, to hv. belield by
these, w ho are admitted to the joys, and honours of his
abode, with perfect peace, composure, and delight.

452 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD.

The most excellent, blessedness of his saints, consists
in the perpetual vision and fruition of his ?lory. It is
in " his presence, that there is fulness of joy, and at
his riiiht hand only can pleasures be found for ever-
more." But in his full, unqualified ftlory, to behold
Bini, would be too much for any created beinj;. In
his essential holiness, if he look unto " the moon, it
shineth not; yea, the stars are not pure in his sight;"
and in the li^ht of his unveiled wisdom, " his angels
are chariieable with folly.'' Mis tremendous power,
his transcendent purity, would be insupportable to the
most perfect of the " spirits of the just," if they were
not softened by the mild beams of mercy, to their trem-
bling perceiuions. But w Idle there is about him, a
lively end)lem of his goodness towards them; while he
is surrounded by the perpetual token of his covenant
of mercy in Christ .lesus, with the children of men;
they are not terrilied by the greatness of his power,
nor by his au ful justice, for he stands displayed as
their i)rotector wwd friend, and the garment of his ap-
pearance is the. pledge of love. Oftentimes the Deity
a))pears severe in his dispensations. Terrible is he in
the habiliments of judgemenu Therefore, to St. .lohn,
he who sal U|)om the tiirone of In^iveu, " was to look
upon like a jasper, and a sardine stone ;'' the former,
in its une(iualleil strength, a fit eniblem of his omni-
potence; the latter, in its fiery redness, expressive of
his tcrribleness in the day of his displeasure. But
with the dismaying hue of the jasper and the sardine,
are blended the emerald's mild beams. Of that agree-
able green, which refreshes and |)rotects the feeble
sight, this precious stone was chosen to represent to
us, that tender morey towards his children, which
envelopes all the perfections of the Most High. To
them, every aflbction is tem|)ered with mercy.
*' Though clouds and darkness are round about him,"
and his dispensations, sometimes, fdl his most faithful
servants with dismay, yet the token of his covenant with

COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD. 453

them is ever in his view, and he " doth not afflict nor
grieve" them without regard to their final good. zVmidst
all the terrors of his resistless might, and S( verest dis-
pensations of his providence, tiiey may hold them still
upon God; they may approach him witli confidence;
they may rely upon his goodness, safe and delighted
in his presence, while there is a " rainbow round
about his throne, in si^lii like unto an emerald.""

Here the transition is natural, from the Being whom
it surrounds, to those u lio iiave an interest in the cov-
enant of mercy, of which it is tlie si2;nificant token.
While they continue pilgrims in this lower workl, it is
revealed to them, as an object of faith, and an assur-
ance to them of spiritual blessing and salvation. In
this life, evil has a constant Hood. Though, through
the long-sulfering of God, it does not rise to a deluge,
yet its waves unceasingly How, alarming both the vir-
tuous and the vicious. Hut, to tlu; former, there arises
light in the darkness. To the fiiiililul servants of the
Most High, who exert to the utmost thei)owershe has
given them, he shall give his Spirit to aid and crown
their exertions, and to bring them in safi'ty, out of eve-
ry trouble. In the seasons of tem|)tation, wUvn nature's
powers of resistance arc feeble, he has i)romised the
strength of his grace, to supjiort them against the
powerful tide. In times of affliction, when the waters
"come cv(Mi to their souls," his Si)irit is devoted to
preserve them, from fainting or sinking under the im-
petuosity of the waves. In the hour of death, when
the) are brought to the dark deep, at which nature
shudders, but which all must pass, he has promised his
stalT, to buoy his redeemed over the cold flood ; and
his Spirit, to conduct them to the saft; haven of the
opposite shore. Thousands have realized the gra-
cious promis<? ; and the pledge of its fulfilment to all
the ui)right, is the bow that perpetually surrounds his
throne. If they are faithful, he " will look upon it.

454 COVENANT MERCltS OK COP.

that he may remember the everlasting covenant," and
" will never leave them, nor forsake them.-'

But it is to the saints and spirits, who have iluir
abode in the mansions of his house, that tliis rainbow
of the celestial world, is of most |)recious si^inificancc.
They, in the widest sense, survive the devastation of
a world. They have passed the iloods of vice, and
the cold waters of ihMlh. From the awful ventieaneo
upon the ungodly, before which "the lieavens sludl
vanish," "the ek'mcnls melt," and "the earth be.
burnt up," they are delivered. To liiem, the Deity
a|)pears ch)thed in the emblems of hne and salvation.
Whih' the token of covenanted mercy about him, tem-
pers his ineffjibh: perfections to their \iew, th«-y brhold
in it the evidence, lii;it tlie storms have subsided by
whicii they were endangered: nnd the sure picdfije,
that none of tlie imperfections, troubles, daiic;ers, and
deaths, whieii tiiey iiave escaped, shall ev* r a^ain dis-
turb their minds, or (Miilauiicr their existence. To
them, therefore, it is of most delightful iippearanee;
the seal and security of inconceivable lilies. They arc
made liaj)py, beyonil our conception, in the thou;;ht,
that the Deity, havim; graciously delivered ihcm from
the doom of a ?;uilty world, looks always U|)on a re-
membrancer of that covenant with the .*Son, hy which
iie hath oblii^ated himself, to perpetuate their felicity.

Such is the significance of that ;;lory of heaven. \\ it!i
a description of which, we are furnishrd in the text.
Conlirmini^ this illustration, it may be remarked that,
to Ezekiel was vouchsafed a vision of the majesty of
Deity in his liii;h abode, who beheld, with rapture, the
same glorious emblem about his throne, and thus de-
picts it: " As the appearance of the bow that is in the
cloud in the day of rain, so was the apjiearancc of the
brightness round about. This was the ii|)pearance of
the likeness ()f the glory of the Lord."

From the contemplation of this glorious object,
which .John beheld in the celestial world, we may

COVENANT MERCIES OP GOD. 401)

learn ihc fuliioss of the felicity of " the saints in light."
To escape the wrath of heaven, and stand, saved by
his mercy from the wreck of this world, before the
Most High; to (hvcll forever in his i)resence, tilled with
the transijorting assurance, that their sins are forgiven
them, that the bitterness of death is past; to see in "a
rainbow round about" God's " throne," an infallible
tok<*i) that the Hoods of temptation, sorrow and death,
shall no more come nigh them, but that the future shall
bean eternal progress from knowledge to knowledge,
from glory to glory. This is the view which the
♦Scriptures give us, of tin; ha|)piness to which their spi-
rits are brought, " who are departed in the true faith
of the luily name."

\\ iiich leads me to observe, secondly, from what has
been said, the importance of having an interest in that
covenant of safety, whose glorious token we have been
considering. ^V'hat are the |)erishable joys, the grovel-
ing pursuits, the fallacious vanities of this transient
iitate, wei:;hed in the balance of sober consideration,
with the realities of heaven which we have it in our
power to secure I Do we Hatter ourselves, that it will
be time enouu.h by and by, and trust to the sincerity of
our intentions: Time steals away faster tiian we
Ua\e our follies, or can mend our pace; and ever and
anon, some solemn monitor echoes the inspired in-
struction, " Now is the accepted time." Do we trust
that it will go well with us, ^\ithout our efforts? Un-
less a Hood should execute vengeance on the ungodly,
there woidd be little need of a bow, betokening safety
to the upri:;!»t. There is but one ark of preservation.
It is that prepared by the Redeemer. " None other is
given under heaven among men in which we can be
saved." If in this, we embark ourselves, our hopes,
and our can^s, we shall be safe amidst all the storms of
life. rro\id(ii((' will make us his charge, when he
visits the earth with aflliction. We shall ride trium-
phantly over death's dark waves, and resting under the

A56 COVENANT MERCIES OF GOD.

auspices of an olive branch, brought by the heavenly
dove, upon the mount of Clod, the transcendent beauty
of the si>iritnal raiid)0\v, shall refresh our sight, and
rejoice us with the assurance of eternal safety.

Which su?;gests to us, the sweet consolation our
subject affords, niid<M- tin* deparlinc^ of \ irtuous friends
from our si::ht and endjraces. How wisely does the
Apostle exhort, that we mourn " not as without hope,
for those that sleep in the Redeemer." When the
survivor of the flood was safely moored upon the
l)caccful mount, \\ iio could have wished the exullini;
Patriarch back to the threatening of the tumultuous
waves? When once he had beheld the bo\N , |)roclaim-
ing his perpetual safety from the waters, \\ ho could
have wisiied him again exposed to the cares and perils
which he had escaped? And when our friends have
"passed the waves of this tr()id)lesome world," in the
true faith and fear, and we have reason to trust that,
they have reached the celestial Ararat of rest and
safety, who, that does not think more of his own hap-
piness than of theirs, would wish them back to the
cares, the sorrows, and tii(^ dangers of this vain world?
Escai)ed to Heaven, from the storms and tempests of
the dark flood, and rejoicing with inconceivable joy in
the bright token " round about the throne," that the
waters of affliction and of death shall no more ap-
proach them, they rather demand our ;:ralulations than
our tears. Let us, then, my friends, cheerfully submit
to ihc dispensations of Ciod, w hatevcr they may be,
" knowing, that all things work together for good, to
them that love," and fear him. The *' rainbow" still
glows " about the throne" of the Kternal : and He
who sits ui)on the throne, is still a covenant (iod, with
the children of men. Let us, then, with patient perseve-
rance, " seek the kingdom of Ciod and his righteous-
ness;" assured from the experience of the laithfid, as
well as by the token which surrounds his throne, that
he is faithfid. who has promised."

SERIMON LXXXIX.

ON THE DANGERS OF YOUTH.

Pro%irbs, vii. 7,

/ ilisrrrnrd among the youths, a young man void of
understanding.

Youth is the most important part of man's life.
If we compare life to a day, youth is the ^lorning of
it. Tlie faculties and feelings are then strong and
lively; the hours are favourable to activity; and he
who wastes them in idleness or /oily, will, probably,
find his noon perplexed, and his evening destitute of
the sweetest pleasure of the evening, a peaceful review
of the day. If we compare life to a voyage, youth is
the time of preparation. It is then we must choose
our course, and provide the stores which may sustain,
and the means which may improve or amuse us oa our
vor.. rr. -^^

458 DANGERS OF YOUTH.

way; it is thrn our friends should bo made glad, by
seeing us well furnished for our destination, and the
credentials be obtnined, whieh may jirorurc us safety,
and favour, anrl distinction, in the rej;;ions to u liirfi wc
are bound. If we compare life to a year, youth is its
spring-time, upon which the felicity of all tin; other
seasons depend. It is then, the set-ds must ho sown,
and the |)lants cherished, whose fruits may delight us
in summer, enrich us in autumn, and sustain and
cheer us, when winter shall have arrived. Whatever
view we take of lit'o, youth is its most precious period ;
a period, which he who sufl'ers it to go by unimproved,
may afterwards beuail, but can never retrieve. The
day may revolve, and morniui; aiiain return. The year
may elapse, and other springs appear. Oceans may
be crossed, and the voyager may set out anew. But
to hmnan life, tiiere is but one niornin^, but <Sno em-
barkation, but one spring. Of the advantages which
youth may furnish us, wc must avail ourselves as it
passes; or else be destitute of them for ever.

The pictures, which the autlior of the book of Pro-
verbs has drawn, are most of them taken from real
life. Amongst tluni, 1 kiiou not one more striking
and afftctinu; than this, w liicji is prcs(Mifcd in tin- text.
In ti»e most int(>rcsting, important, and dangerous |)art
ol" human life, there is seen "among the youths, a
young man void of understanding.-' Before him, is
vice, beckoning him with alluring arts, to her iminire
abodes, lirhiiul hi:n, are advancing, obscurely, indeed,
but with surt and rapid step, shame, and remorse, and
misery, and ruin. Over this youth, I inwi-ine atj-els,
and spirits of the just, looking down iVoni the skies
with the most anxious concern. By his side, I behold
a lather, with a beating bosom and a furrowed brow,
observing, with unutterable auiiuish, the destruction
of his fondest hopes, hi a retired corner, I sec a
female figure. It is a mother on her bended knees.
feihe is looking to heaven with tears u|)on her cheek.

DANGERS OF YOUTH. 459

and supplicating the Almighty to /brgive and save her.
child. Gracious God! Little do the young know,
how groat is the interest they excite in heaven and on
earth ! Seldom do they consider, liow deep is the cup,
which their conduct may fill ^vith wretchedness, or
bliss, both for themselres and others!

In looking rounu' upon this assembly, I behold the
greater part of it in the nx)rning of life. For them,
the following discourse i.* particularly designed. In it,
I shall set before 'theiv, some of the qualities which
indicate in youth, a *^ ant of wisdom and undersiand-
ins; and fondly 1 datter myself, that they will give me
that attention, v»hich a sincere rei^ard for their welfare
may claim, wr-atever the discourse may want of nov-
elty in its doctrines, or beautv in its drj'ss.

Foremost anion j; the (jualitirs which mark the un-
wise youth, is a disre::ard of the j)rinciples and offices
of reIi;;ion. it is lieli:;iou, wliicli must elevate, purify,
and adorn the human character. Sent from the courts
of heaven by the everlasiin:: Father, as the minister of
his best hlessiniis to mankind, she opens to the mind
the sublimest truiiis; she brings for the he;irt the most
precious comforts; she pours upon our paths the
brightest li;;ht; jhe conducis our stejjs to the hiiihest
bliss. Without lier aid, the young man cannot cleanse
his way; without her counsel, he cannot walk worthily
of his high facilities and destination; without her pro-
tection, he will be a prey to his i)assions: a prey to his
ine.\j;erience; a prey to the thousand delusions which
lie in wait to deceive, and the ten thousand vices
which lurk to destroy him. Manifest to all, as the
best guide of life, speaking in the name of the Al-
mighty, and seeking only the iminovement and ever-
lasting liap|)iiiess of mankind, where is the wisdom of
reiccting her counsels, and despising her restraints?
What is there of understanding, in setting at naught
the God wlio made heaven and earth, and hath power
to "destroy both soul and body in hell''' AVhat is

400 DANGERS OF YOUTH.

there of understanding, in abandoning the altars, at
which our fathers have worshipped, and the service in
which they found peace ami salvation? What is there
of undfrstandins, in departing from those principles
and offices of reliiiion, Avithoat which, virtue has no
encouragement, sorrow \ms no consolation, society can
have no order, man has no certain hope? The youth
who contemns religion, indi'^ates theieby a deplorable
want of wisdom. His judgetnent is at variance with
his host interests. It is ai variance with the opinions
of the wisest and best men. It is-^t variance witii the
fountain of existence, and of every excellence. It is
at variance with God. " Cease, my son," says the
wisest of men, " to hear the instruction v.hich causeiU
thee to err from the words of knowledge. The fear
of the Lord is the be;;inning of w isdom ; a good un-
derstanding have all they that do thereafter; the praise
of it endureth for ever."

Another thing u hich marks the unwise youth, is,
his yielding hitnself up to the alhnements of vice and
folly. The young are surrounded with temptations.
Vice spreads for them, snares as enticing as they are
destructive. In the city, in the place of concourse,
they are exposed to courses, w hich are at once fasci-
nating and ruinous. 1 speak not of the ordinary vices,
into which they may be hurried by the contagion of a
corrupted atmosphere. 1 have now particularly in
view, the extravagant, maddi-ning rio; at the wine;
the impure haunts of illicit pleasures; aod those graves
of youthful excellence and promise, public gaming
tables. Dreadful is the demoralization, incalculable
are the evils which are born and fostered in these
vicious resorts. Here, the ingenuous blush of inno-
cence is for ever dissipated; and the barriers against
iniquity are thoughtlessly broken down. Here, arc
sacrificed and abandoned the holy instructions, which
fell from the parental lii) U])on the youthful heart, soft,
and wholesome as the dew of heaven. Here, the

DANGERS OF VOUTH. 461

iianip of tlie Bein^ whom angels fear, is rudely pro-
faned; his laws which carry the most awful sanctions
are defiled ; and conscience, the kind monitor which he
has placed in the bosom, is trampled under feet. Here,
we may see the wrecks of genius, the destruction of
fortune, the immolation of character, the dissipation
of health, commencement of disquietude, progress of
discontent, weariness and despondency of soul, unre-
strained i)roilijiacy, and the consummation of wretch-
edness. Here — but I will proceed no further. Even
those, whom the frequency of the scenes has hardened
to their turpitude, even they would blush at the expo-
sure to the innocent and wise, of the criminality and
debasement to which they descend, in these vicious
resorts. And is not the youth " void of understand-
ing," who, in the earliest and most important period
of his life, suffers himself to be drawn into these vor-
tices of ruin? Reason, when she is heard, proclaims
the danger. Conscience, could she be listened to,
would remonstrate and entreat. The shades of pious
ancestors descend ; the sjiectres of victims, who have
been led on to destruction in those paths, appear, t6
check the youth in his career, and turn him into the
paths of safety. Yea, a voice is heard from the throne
of the Almighty, calling to him in the language of in-
spiration, " Enter not into tlic path of the wicked, and
go not in the way of evil nen. Avoid it, pass not by
it, turn from it and pass away." But passion, not
reason; blind inclination, not manly sense, govern his
conduct. There is nothing of the grace, or circum-
spection of wisdom in his stejis. He goeth to his
fatal indulgences, " as an ox goeth to the slaughter,"
or " as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knowetli not
that it is for his life." And what will be the result of
his foolishness.^ "For all these things, God will
bring him into judgement." " The days will come,
and the years draw nigh, in which he shall say, he has
no pleasure in them." He will then look back with

462 DANGERS OI YOUTH.

shame, upon the profligacies of his youth ; and, liappy
for him, if the Ahnighty do not leave him, in au lul
judgement, upon his abuse of the advantages of a
Christian education, to reap to the last, "the fruit of
his own ways, and to be fdled with his own devices."
Another thing whiclj indicates a want of wisdom
and understanding in the )oung, is, forming connec-
tions of friendship with unprincipled, and profli:;ate
persons. Sweet to the youthful bosom, are the plea-
sures of friendship. Noble and unguarded is the free-
dom, with which our minds and hearts are then
thrown open to those we love. And, on this account,
it is of unspeakable importance that the companions of
our earliest days, be such as may be worthy of our
confidence, and capable of promoting in us the quali-
ties and virtues, which e.xalt the human character.
But, by falling into intimacies with the vicious, this
source of generous joy, this spring of youth's most
exquisite [)leasure, may bo converted into a source of
disappointments and debasement. For he, who can
"wrong his God; n\ ho can renoimce the obbgations
of religion and virtue; who can disregard the feel-
ings of his parents, and virtuous connections, what
K^asonable ground can there be for confidence in
him, that he will not wrong his friend.'' Besides,
the influence and example of such a one, are fatal
to the fairest and best properties of youth. What
docs the voice of wisdom so often lament; over what
is experience so often seen shedding the tears of regret,
as the ruins which are occasioned by evil company? I
see an amiable }outh, upon whom kindred aflection
has fastened the fondest hopes. His talents are good,
the best princii)les were early instilled into his bosom
by parental assiduity; and, in a course of manly and
virtuous i)ursuits, he migiit be distinguished in society,
and an ornament amongst the works of (Jod. He
steps into the world. The uni)rincipled antl profligate
meet him; and with all the eagerness of fallen spirits
))cnt on mischief, resolve to make him a partaker of

DANGERS OF YOUTH. 463

their shame. His simplicity renders him their easy
prey. With fair si)C'ech, tliey gain access to his heart,
and witi) Ruilty artifices, they kindle his passions.
Tliey take him to the orgi(^s of folly. With blind
infatuation he follows them to the haunts of vice, and
to the abodes of pollution. His former principles,
they now laugh to scorn. His boldness in iniquity,
they extol and encouraj^e. They draw him, at length,
into all the dreadful excesses of their own guilt. And
lie, who was once like the young cedar of Lebanon,
fair and strong, and promising much growth and beau-
ty, is now like the scathed tree, shorn of his glory,
markt il with the vengeance of heaven, and exhibiting
a melancholy spectacle of worlhiessness, and untimely
drcny. Wlio sees not in this youth, " a young man
^^n^\ of uiuh'rstandingl" He has chosen those for his
friends, who were destitute of principle and virtue,
and, therefore, were only capable of promoting his
dt'basement and destruction. And what is his recom-
pense, for the sacrifices they have led him to make?
Even to be reduced to the same level with them; to
be deserted by tiicm, in all probability, when they
have strii)t him of liis virtue, his fortune, and respec-
tability; and to be one day ashamed of them, at the
bar of the Almighty, as the panders of his vices, and
promoters of his misery. " IMy son, if sinners entice
thee, consent thou not." " He that walketh with wise
men shall be uisc; but a com{)anion of fools shall be
destroyed."

It is another indication of " a youth void of under-
standing," to be wholly occupied about the decorations
of his person, and the display of external pomp, or
accomplishments. Tlsere is an attention to the decen-
cies of dress, which is conducive to the well-being of
society. And if, by an attention to manners, men may
smooth the asperities of social intercourse, and render
themselves more pleasant and agreeable to each other,
this also is a laudable, and a Christian duty. But

464 DANGERS OF YOUTH.

there are many, with whom the adorning of their per-
sons, is the principal source of self-satisfaction, and
the chief business of life. Man is an intcHiiicnl being.
He has glorious faculties to cuhivatc. lie has noble
duties to discharge. He has an immortal soul to im-
prove. He has eternal life to secure. What can more
strikingly indicate a want of that wisdom, by which
such a being should be distinguished, than to have his
faculties absorbed, and his ambition satisfied, with the
transient vanities of external attire? Besides, how
contemptible is the distinction, which is merely sn|)er-
iicial! The Bee, that gathers treasures from every
flower, has not the finest coating. The Eagle, that
soars on majestic wings to the birth of the morning,
has not the most glittering plumage. It is the Butter-
fly, that idly flutters on the passing breeze, which the
fopling emulates. The care of the body is more with
him, than the care of the mind. With usefulness and
virtue, with knowledge, and heaven to engage him,
behold him, the slave of a colour, or a fashion ; placing
his glory in that, in whidi inferior animals uiay often
vie with him, and flowers and |)lants excel him. Such
a young man, w horn dress alone occupies and delights,
will be claimed by folly as iier legitimate child. Wis-
dom rejects him ; iiit(>IIii;ence sighs over him, as "a
young man void of understanding."

I add, in the last place, that habitual idleness, is a
characteristic of an unwise youth. Idleness, at any
age, is the parent of vice, and unhap|)incss. in the
morning of life, it is peculiarly inexcusable and ruin-
ous. The youth, who has nothing to do, w ill learh to
do evil. He neglects to cultivate the nobh; i>owers of
his nature; he will be drawn into habits of dissipation.
All the advantages of early industry in procuring
knowledge, fortune, character, and esteem, lie will
forego, and he will, in all jjrobability, be restless and
dissatisfied; a burden to himself in the hours of reflec-
tion, ajid a useless cumberer of the ground. Nor can

DANGERS OF YOUTH. 46o

he find any palliation of his folly in the plea, that he
finds nothing to do. There is ever enouiih to emi.loy
usefully, the hours of every one's life. Go; cultivate
and expand the noble faculties which thy Creator hath
given thee. Go; call into exercise and useful ai)pli-
cation the powers that lie dormant in thy nature. Go;
search the pa;;es of wisdom; traverse the regions of
trtith, and by acquisiiion of knowledge, lay tiie foun-
dation of future usefulness to thy country, and the
world. Go; seek the Most Hiiih God, thy Maker,
and Redeemer. Consider, studiously, what it is that
he requircth of then, in order that thou mayest spend
wisely the years of this fleeting life. Go; bring to the
habitation of thy par(Mits, the reviving fragrance of a
good name, and get to thyself the iiabit, in which thou
mayest emulate angels, the habit of industriously doing
good. Go, and do this, and much more that is equally
obvious and worthy of thee; before thou co!n|)lainest
in apology for thy indolence, that thou findest nothing
to do. Tuhappy the youth, in whose mouth is this
delusive plea. For him, the best years of life will
pass away, without furnishing tlie foundations of re-
spectability aiul comfort. On him, neither |)eace nor
prosperity, neither pid)lic esteem, nor self-satisfaction
will ever wait; but in their stead, that contemj)!
w Inch the common sense of society fastens u|)on those,
who have no object nor emi)loyment; and that weari-
ness, dissatisfaction, and self-r(!proach, to which the
Almighty, in his justice, generally exposes the inactive.
With great proj)riety, therefore, has experience always
recommended to the young, a definite pursuit, and
diligent occupation; and it is with striking, and aj)po-
site acuteness, that Solomon represents the field of the
slothful, as the same ground, with the vineyard of the
man " void of understanding."

Thus, I have set before you, some of the qualities
which indicate the character in the text. As you have
•accompanied me in these observations, you have per-

vui.. ii. ^0

466 DANGERS OF YOUTH.

ceived, and felt, that they aro qiialitirs. by which hu-
man nature is degraded; prosperity, iini)rovenient, and
happiness frustrated; and the best hopes of society,
the ho|)es which depend upon the rising generation,
most unha|)|)ily bhisted. lie induced, then, my young
friends, to use, indiistriously, the morning of your bves.
Let not your attention be absorbed, and your ambition
satisfied, with external decorations and distinctions.
As you would avoid takiu'; fire brands into your bo-
soms, guard against admitting to the near intimacies
of friendship, the unprincipled and vicious. With a
discretion worthy of your rational, and immortal na-
turt'S, jlee youthftd hists, and avoid the resorts of pol-
lution and abasement. Above all iliiiii:>. know you
the Ciod of your fathers, and ser\e him uith a perfect
heart, and with a willing mind. C heri^h for rcliiiioii
that respect, which you would cherish for the guardian
of your race; and the arrows which are aimed at her
name or services, consiilcr them as aimrd at the shades
of your forefathers, and at the dearest interests of the
world. Then shall the hearts of your parents be
gladdened, with the knowledge of your wisdom and
discretion; then shall your country find in you, her glory
and dt fence; then shall the Church rest upon you, as
her strong and affectionate supporters; then shall your
l)OSoms be filled with self-approbation, and the peace
of God; then, at whatever period d(>alh shall remove
j'ou, to other duties, and other worlds, you shall not
depart prematurely; for honourable age is not that
which standeth in hMintli of da>s, nor that is measured
by number of years, hut WLsiloni is the gray hair unto
men, and unspotted life, is old age.

SERMON XC.

ON THE DISTRESSES OF THE POOR IN
WINTER.

St. MarK} xiii. 16.

Pray yc that yourjiight be not in the winter.

OlJR blessed Lord is, in this chapter, informing his
discii)les, of the awful calamities which should come
upon Jernsal(Mn, after his ascension; calamities, "such
as had not been since the creation" of the world " to
that time, neither should be" afterwards. Of these
evils he forewarns them, and instructs them how to
act for their own esca|)e and preservation. Among
other precei)ts whicli he gave them, " Pray ye," says
the compassionate Saviour, " that your flight be not in
the winter.*'

468 , FOOR IN WINTER.

At this inclement season,* these words do the more
forcibly strike our attention. Let ns meditate upon
them. Tliey will present some topics to our minds,
worthy of our consideration.

And, in the fust place, they remind lis of the seve-
rities of Winter. This cold and hoary monarch, is not
content with strippin:: the earth of all its ve::etativf
beauty, and coverin:; it with a drjary ?arl), he compels
the hein^is who have life, and i..!u'rent warmth, to how
b«Mieath his icy sceptre. The beasts are mute and
chilled; the birds lire to their coverts: and man, feel-
ing in winter the awful jtower of (Jod, cries, "who
can stand before his cold:" In this season, the ex-
posed, and the destitute, endure; peculiar hardships.
The wandering traveller, plods con)lorth'ss on his
way; the poor seaman, eyes the billows with horror,
and shivers in the storm. To the children of want, it
is a time of conipliratcd wretchedness. They fiM'I,
alas! that Winter furnishes povi iiy with fniiis. which
she has at no other season.

But, amidst all the severities of winter, we n)ay dis-
cover the benevolence of (iod. How wonderful is
that goodness which leads, instinctively, a part of the
animal tribes, iVom ilie inhospitality of a wintr> region,
to milder climes! How erpi.dly tender is that kind-
ness, which tempers the bleak and IrostN winds, to the
sides of the little birds, and more helpless beasts, u hich
he has iau;;ht to remain! How gracious is that pro-
vidence, which causes the earth, in the seasons of her
fertility, to produce a suflicieiit provision for the dreary
months, when wint(M- will cheek her fertility, and
bind her furrows with frost! How merciful is that
foretliou^ht, w liich has stored a marvellous element in
the forest, and the bowels of the earth, to furnisii man.
w hen the sun departs from his zenith, with a pleasant

This Dif<-oMr-.> r»r, |, readied in Clini:(.-.*ton, in n m.-Tui'^ xMnrT, iifirr •
fall of 3nox\

PeOR IN WINTER. 469

substitute for the warmth of his beams. And when
We consider, how many liiiman beings are exposed,
some tossed at sea, amidst the horrors of the waves
ajifl fierce rasine; of the storms; others, naked on tlie
land to the scoiiiiiiniis of the tempest, and oppressed
with the hardships, beneath which, it should seem,
that human nature would sink; when we contemplate
these exposures of multitudes of our race, and behold
them, brought through all the daui^ers and sufferin^is of
the season, to the joys and hopes of spring, who sees
not, that the God who rides the winter, is the same
merciful God who rules the year. The displays of his
power, are, indeed, at this season, more awful. We
see him in the terrors of ids might. But, he is never-
theless kind.

Which leads me to another thing which the text
su^Kests, that to him should all men, and especially
those " who are in danger and necessity," apply for
protection " from the evils, to w hich they may be ex-
posed." It is God who causeth the winter. '* He
giveth snow like wool, and scattereth the hoar frost
like ashes." Again. " He scndeth forth his word,
and melleth them; he bloueth with his wind, and the
waters flow." He, therefore, has power to mitigate
the rigours of our condition. To him, the Redeemer
sends his disciples, for preservation from the calamities
to w l)ich wintiT migiit expose them. And to whom,
should those who are in danger or necessity, so confi-
dently go, as to their hcaveidy Father, who maketh
the wool to be warm on the lamb, "and feedeth the
young ravens whicii call upon him." Art thou, then,
exposed at this season upon the billows of the ocean,
or filled u itii distress for thy seafaring friends? Look
up u ilii devotion to that Almighty Being, who rides
upon the tempest which scours the deep. Art thou
fearful of the conflagration which so often increases
the calamities of this season? Use that prudence
which God lias ;^iven tliec for thy direction, and sup-

470 I'OOR IN WINTER.

plicate the protection of tlie sliaclow of his wins;. Art
ihou amons the children of poverty, and for want of
food, of raiment, or of fuel, dost thou mourn in the
wintry blast? Go to the God who hearrth prayer.
With humility make thy wants known to him; entreat
him for his Son's sake, to compassionate thy distresses,
and if he have not some better purpose to accomplish,
by withholding; thy wishes, he will devise a way for
thy safety, and supi)ly thy wants. For he despiseth
not the prayer of the poor destitute; but when he
maketh his cry, his ear hearkeneth thereto.

This suggestion \\ ill be enforced, if we observe an-
other thine which the text most strikingly, and aflect-
ingly impresses upon our minds, vi/: the compassion-
ate nature of the blessed Redeemer, who is our Inter-
cessor at the riiiht hand of God. Every act of his
life was a display of tenderness and love. Whether
\ve consider him, descending from the bosom of his
Father, and taking our nature upon him for the reco-
very of our race from perdition; or contemi)late him
wiiile he dwelt upon earth, making it iiis meat and
drink to enable the poor to forget his poverty, and the
afllicted to rememlxM- her misery no more; or behold
him on tiie cross, seeking, with persevering benevo-
lence, the i)ardon and salvation of his wretched ene-
mies; \\v. have sufficient cNidcnce of the loveliness of
compassion, and that it dwelt in the bosom of our
Lord in an unspeakable perfection. JJut, in the little
incident which the text records, there is a refined sen-
sibility, an exquisite tenderness, which will touch
• very feeling heart. He knew how rigorous are the
severities of winter. Me knew how multiplied and
bitter are the miseries whieh it briims upon those,
Nvhom adversity has laid bare to its inclemencies. For
his poor disciples his heart was afflicted. He dreaded
rhui t!ie ealamities, in which they were about to be
involved, should be aggravated by the hardships and
sufferings which attend tiiis season. Hi^ kindness

POOR IN WINTER. 471

anticipated their distresses, and he taiiglit them where
to look for preservation. " Pra)^ ye," said their affec-
tionate Master, " that your flight be not in the winter.'^
This comjiels me to remark, in the fourth phicc,
that if tlie same mind be in us, which was in Christ
Jesus, this season will excite in our bosoms, a sj'mpa-
thefic concern for all tiiose who are exposed to its
sorrows. Now, will the ^ood Christian offer his peti-
tion with increased fervor, " for all who travel by land
or by water." Now, will his heart be moved, and
his hands be opened, by the distresses of the poor and
ni-edy. 'I'he howling wind, seems to remind us of
their necessities. The cold and siorm, knock at our
hearts in their behalf. Ah! my brethren, you sit by
your firi'sides sheltered from all the inclemencies of the
winter. Vour clothing is warm and good. Your
houses are comfortable about you. And your tables
are covered w ith food, " enough, and to sj)are." You
know nothing; of the miseries of want. Come with
me, to the habitation of poverty. It is rugged, and of
wretched api)earance. But it contains your fellow
beings. Do not decline then to enter. Here, in the
cheerless chamber, dwells the poor widow. She
"gathers for herself a few sticks," and dresses '' a
handful of meal;" and the rest of the day, sits shiver-
ing over the embers; full often reatly, in the bitterness
of her anguish, to wish to herself that she might die.
Are you moved by this scene of misery? Alas! my
fri(uids, it is but one of many, which may be found in
our world. Come, and I will take you to another
habitation. There, in that bleak and confused hut,
dwells a whole family of wretchedness. I cannot tell
where is he, who should be the support of the house-
hold. Th(! mother sits stunned with cold, and sorrow,
unable to give food to but one of her offspring, and
that from her own im|)overished bosom. Her chil-
dren, are crying around her. They are hungry. They
arc cold. And when the long wished for night ar-

472 POOR IN WINTER.

rives, and they betake themselves to tlie thin and rag-
ged bed, who can say, whether sleep, sometimes a
soother of the wretched, is able to jiive to this chilled
and famished family, any respite from their woe. Oh!
ye, whom providence has blessed with abundance;
who have riches more, much more, than you use;
think of what iiappiness you may be the authors, by
bestovvins here a portion of that ueaith, which you
must presently leave to, you know not whom! And
ye, who haw only a competence of the p;ood thinjxs of
this life, is there nothing superfluous in your comforts,
or is any j^ratificaliou you may forego, to be compared
in value and delight, nith "the blessinji of those who
■were ready to perish ;" which, bflieve me, is often
heard and seah-d by the God of heaven. We arc
commanded, my brethren, to " charge you who have
this world's goods, to be ready to sive, and glad to
distribute;" and 1 know not, how I luay more |)o\ver-
fuUy enforce tiiis char;;e than by rcmarkin;;, that unless
this spirit of compassion, which was in the bosom of
Christ Jesus, and would have preserved his |)oor dis-
ciples from the sutlerin^s of winter, be also in you,
himself hath di'clared you are none of his.

Such, are some of the topics, which this interesting
passaiic in the Saviour's life, is caKidated to suggest.
Let me iiope, they are not imijcrtincnl to the season,
and will not be improfitabic. Vou are about to com-
memorate the fi;reatcst act of divine compassion, in
the incarnation of the Son of CJod, and many of
you, are i)reparing yourselves to go up and be feasted
with the bread of life, at the table of your Lord. Be-
nevolence, is the c;arment in wiiicii, on that day, every
Christian should appear. It has been a godly custom
of the Church, to exact an oflVring of her sons, at that
festival, for the poor of " the household of faith."
Need I say that, they, at this season, need your liberal
assistance. Their number is not lessened, though
those, alas! are diminished, who were wont to con-

POOR IN WINTER. 473

tribute to thoir relief. The expenses, too, of living,
are so much enhanced, that what would formerly have
supplied a day, will now scarcely furnish a meal.
With these considerations, Christians, enlarge your
charity. Bring to the feast, an offering worthy of the
occasion, and worthy of the acceptance of God. It is
not merely in behalf of the poor, though I gladly ap-
pear the hiuiible organ of their wants, but it is also
" in Christ's stead, that I beseech you," " be ye mer-
ciful, as your Father iu heaven is merciful."

FINIS.

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMEvS.

The Right Rev. Nathanifl Bowen, D. D. Bishop of the Pro. Epis. Church in the
Diocess of South-Carolina. Two Copies.

The Rev Paul T. Grnai!>, St. Johns, ColltMon.

The Rev. ChriMoplier K. tJadndrn, I) D. Rector of St. Philip's Church.

The Rev. AIMon (mIiIios, .\ssi?itaiit .Mini'slcrof St I'liilip's Church.

The Flev. William S. Wilson, .Minister of St. Johns, CoJh'ton.

The Rev. Francis P. Delavaux, Rector of St. Mntthcw'.s Parish.

The Rev. Thomas Osborne, Professor of Lan^ages, College of Cincinnati, 0.

The Rev. Christian llanckell, Rector of St. Paul's Church.

The Rev Henry (liMies, Minister of All Saints, WaccamHW.

The Rpv.Joim W. Clmnlcr, .Minister of I'pper and LoiverSt. Mark's.

The Rev. John B. Camphell, Rector of St. Helena, Beaufort.

The Rev. Salmon Wlieaton. Rector of Trinity Church, Newport, R. I.

riie Rev. Kdwanl RutieiJge, Connecticut.

The Rev. Maurice H. Lance, Rector of Prince George, Winyaw.

The Rev. Patrick H Kolker, Rector of Trinity Ciiurch, Columbia.

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The Rev. Henry Anthoti, St. Bartholomew's Purisli.

The Rev. Milwnrd Poison. Rector of St. James', Goose-Creek.

The Rev. Rodolphus Dickinson, .Minister of St. James', and .St. Peter's, Green-
ville, and the Church in Pendleton District.

The Rev. Thomas Gates, D. D. St. George's Parish.

Ihe Rev. John Jacob Tschudy, Rector of St. John's, Berkley.

The Rev. .\ndrew F'owler, Charleston.

ihe Rev. Frederick Palcho, .M. D. .Assistant Minister of .St. Michael's Church.

476

subscribers' names.

Cliarleston.

Alexander, David

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Charleston Library Society. 2 cop.

Cop)pll,M:..i..r.lohnS.

Clarkson, William

Da\v.5on, Charles P.

Dawson,. John

Deas, Thomas II.

Deas, llcni-y

Dens. David

Davidson, Mrs. Eliza

Dawson. J. H.

Dawps. Iln^h P.

DeJoiiph. Mrs. II.

Dr.iyton. LL. I). — Hon. John

Dallon, Dr. James

Elford, James .M.

Edwards, i'dward H.

Elliott. Benjamin

Eckhard, Jacob

Eckhard, George B.

Frost, Mre. Thomas

Eraser, .Miss Elizabeth

Eraser, .Miss Judith

Eraser, Miss Susan

Eitzsimons, Mrs. C.

Ferguson, Mrs. Ann

Grimke. Mrs. T. S.

Grimke, Thomas S.

Grei^ory, .Mi-s. Mary C.

Gyles. John

GriHitli, Mrs.

(.iadsdcn, Philip

Gadsden, John

Green, Mrs. Marj' Ann

Grefi;son, Thomas

Garden, .Major Alexander

Graves, Mrs. Colleton

Hiieer, Hon. Daniel E.

Hnt;er. Mrs D E.

Huger, Daniel

Hall .Miss Susan

Hicham, Thomas

Hevv»iird. .Mrs. E.

Heywar.l, .Mrs. C. .M.

Horry Htm. Elins

Henwood. Samuel

Howard, Col. Kobert

Hayiie, Mrs Elizabeth

Holmes, .Mrs. Ann (Jlover

Heriot Mrs So|>hia H.

Harth. Jdin

Harlh. William

Hamilton, .Mrs E. and Dau^htere

Hamilton, juii .Major Jumci*

H<irry, Elias Lynch

Howard. John

Jervey, Tho. H.

Jervey,.lame.s

Izard. Miss

Izard, Miss L.

Inglis, Miss .Mary 2 copies,

Johnson. .Miss Samh

.lohnsf)n. iM I> — Jo<M'ph

Johnsiin, .M I). Uiiac A.

Joliii-oii, JnmesS. #

Ker^liHW. Charles

Kid'lcll. Chnrips

Keiinedv. Col Lionel H.

Koline, Mp<. v.. 2 coj»ie5

Kennedy. Edward

l.,ee, F'rancis I.

Lowndes. 1 lionias

Lowndes. James

Lnnce, William

L.-\Nis.J..hn

Lucas, jun. Jonathan

.Murnll .Mi-s. M.irtlia

Milrli.ll. J. din W.

.MilrlM-ll. W. II.

.Mill. T, \lrs. H. A.

.M.ille. .Mrv Marv

Motte. .Mi<s M 1.'

Motte. Abraham

.Muiiliew >. Mrs. .Martha .\

.Middl.ton.Mrs Alicia

.^boiiuaiill. .lo<eph

M'Call, .Mrs. Elizabeth

Mazyck, C. C.

Morris. jiin Thomas

Martin, .Mis^ Su'^an II.

.M'Call. IJcNt

.MN.ill. Neill

.Moore. Mr- .Al.irv

Oliphanl. I):i\i!

Pvne, .M!>

SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES.

477

Prioleau, Samuel

Pierre, MissFloride

Pririfle. Mrs. J J.

Peters. Mrs. Mary

Pritcliard, Josepli

Pritchiird, Paul

Pi'ickney, Gen diaries C.

Printjle, Mrs James R.

FoUfr. lolin

Perry. Mrs Ann D.

QuMsb, Mrs. R. H.

Riitledfje, Mrs. HarrieU P.

Kicliardson, .Mrs S.

Roijpcl, Miss

Rhind, Mrs. Elizabeth

Rus<p|l. Natfianiel

Rout, Williarn Cleo.

R<)l)t'i1sr)ii, Mrs. Ann*

Rf'Hd, .M. D— William

R'ad, llarlestoii

Ray, .James

Reid, Georpe B.

Smith, W. M.

Smiih, Mrs. Susan E.

Smith, sen. Thomas

Smith, Kliz. P.

S.dimidt. .Mrs. M. E.

Stiles, C(i|M'l'iiid

Shackelford, W. F.

Smith. Petf-r

Schultz. John

Sl«npy, John

Stanyarne, Mi.'ss Ann%

S< alirook. Benjamin

Turnliull. Rolierl .1.

Theological Lilirary, Pro- Kpis. So.

Taylor, Josiah

Thomas, James 2 copies

Valk. Ca|i|. Jacob R.

Vanderhorst, C'ol. Richard W

AN ard. Mi^s Ann

Ward, Mrs. .Mary G.

\\ iliington, A S".

\\ illiinan, .Mrs. C

U ill i man, Mrs. A. E.

Wainwright, Mrs. Ann

VVainwriplit, Miss Sarah Dewar

Waring, Si. D. — Horatio

Waring. Mrs. Jane L.

\\ akefield, Miss Sarah Cannon

W ilson. iM. D — Samuel

Weston, Plowdt-n

\\ agner, Aliss Caroline

VN aring, sen. Thomas

Washington. Mrs Jane

Waller. Capt. William

Woddrop, Mrs. Ann

.5// Saints, IFacramaic .

\llston, William A.
Tucker, I. IF.
Wiihrr.s. Robert

Prince George, Winyaw.

Blyth, E. L.

Eraser, B. P.

Hugerr Hon. Benjamin

Keith, John

Mitchell. T. R.

M Farlane, Mrs Mary

Trapier, Mi-s. 8. F.

Trapier, W. W.

W ithers, Francis

St. John's, Berkley.

Ball, Isaac
Corbetl, Thomas
Dubose, San:uel
Gaillard, James
Gonrdine, M. D. — Theodore
Porcher, Isaac
Ravenel, M. D. — James
Ravenel, Rene
Ravenei, M. D. — Henry

St. Mark's.

Brailsford, Capt.
Cold. .ugh, Col.
Doughty, William C.
Dasis, Capt John G.
(harden, Mrs Alexander
Hfxt. Mrs

.Manning, Col. Richard
Richardson, Col James B.
Richardson, CharJes
Richardson, Mrs. John

St. Matthew's.

Darby, Artemas B.
Hart,' Mrs. Charlotte
Hrabowski, Thomas S.
Heat ley, Col. Andrew
Lovell, James
MCord, John T.
Richardson, Mrs. Rachel
Richardson, Edward
Stewart, James
Thompson, William S.

Stateburgh.

Hooper. Mrs. Mary
Huger, Col. Francis K.
Joor, Beiij. G.
May rant, sen. Mrs. John

Pocolaliiro.
IS'eufvi He, Edward

478 subscribers' names.

Barnwell District. ^^« '**«*

Bull,W.R.

Columbia.

Fisher, Mrs. Mary
Hampton, Mrs. Ann
Herbemont, Mrs.
Mann, John Spencer
Stark, Robert

St. Stephen's.

Stephens, Charles

SI. Georges.

Waring, Mrs. Sarah

Chrisl Church.

Hort, William

St. Johns, Colleton.

Gibbes, Mrs. Lewis L.
Jenkins, Micnh

Beauforl.

Guerard.Mrs. Ann

67. Barlhohni'ir «

Fell, William W.

Bailey, Benjamin
Bailey, Edward
BrtiJpy, Charles
Bailey, Henry
Bailey, Thoma-s
Beckett, William
Dickson, I.
Hannahan, John
Hiroii.L

Jenkins, Ri>l>ert 3
Jenkins, Micali
Jenkins, Joseph E.
Laurence, .Mrs.
Mii.lu-ll, M I) —Edward
.Mikell.JohnX*.
Megcett, W illiam
Schullz, Snnih
Seabrook, sen. William
5H>abrook, Andrew D.
Seabrook, sen. Joseph
Slnyly, Chriitian
Seabru«k, W.B.

J\'§ldtes, Mitt.
Land^dale, Bcojaniin C.

Setcport, R. F.

Champlin. Mrs. Miu^ret
Cardinor, Mrs. Sarah
Miles, Mr-* Lytlia

MtLson, V " .t

Mtiintor I B

N.irtliai; I

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