Sermons Translated from the Original French of the Late Rev. James Saurin ...

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!

SERMONS

. y 6 ^ TRANSLATED

firomtbe

ORIGINAL FRENCH

oftbelate

REV. JAMES' SAURIN,

Pastor of the French Church at the Hague.

VOL V.

ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS.

Place be tmUtiptieduntoytm through the knowledge ofGod.,»St. Peter.

BY ROBERT ROBINSON.

PRINTED BY M'FARLANE !f LONG, . ■

1

HO. 308 BKOADWAT.
1806.

4- i - *

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C.

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1

vS 1^ -"^ ■

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CONTENTS

OP THB

fiif^ VMrxm.

SERMON I.

The fatal Consequences of a bad Education*
1 Samuel iii. 11, 12.

SERMON 11.

General MistakeSm
Romans tdlu 2.

SERMON III.

The Advantages of Piety.
1 Timothy iv. 8.

Pagel.

Page 23.

Page 47.

SERMON IV.

The Repentance of the Unchaste Woman.

Luke viL 36— -50.

Page 73.
SERMON V.

The Vanity of attempting to oppose God.'

Proverbs xxi. 30.

Page 109.
SERMON VI.

Imaginary Schemes of Happiness.

ECCLESIASTES i. 9.

Page 133.
SERMON VII.

JOisgust with Life.

EcCLCfllASTES ii. 17.

Page 155.

^

I

CONTENTS.

SERMON VIII.

The Passions.
1 Petfr iL 11.

SERMON IX.

Trcnisient Devotions.
H06EA vih 4.

Page 188.

Page 223.

SERMON X.

The different Methods of Preachers.

I Corinthians iii. 11 — 15.

Page 259.
SERMON XL

The deep Things of God.

Romans xi. 33.

Page 283.
SERMON XII.
The Sentence passed upon Judas by Jesus Christ.

Matthew xxvi. 17.

Page 321.
SERMON XIH.

The Came of the Destruction of Impenitent Sinners.

HosEA xiii. 9.

Page 345.
SERMON XIV.

The Gritf of the Righteous for the Jlisconduct of the

Wicked.

PsAL^ cxix. 136.

Page 367.

\

SERMON I.

THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF A BAD

EDUCATION.

1. Samuel iii* \% 13.

In that dajy I will perforin against Eli^ all things which I have
spoken concerning his house : when I begin^ I will also make an
end. For I have told him, that I will judge his house for ever^
for the iniquity which he knoweih : because his sons made them'
selves vile^uind Le restrained them not,

THESE words are part of a discourse, which
God addressed to young Samuel in a vision,
the whole history of which is well known to us all.
We intend to fix our chief attention on the misery
of a parent, who neglects the education of his chil-
dren : but before we consider the subject in this
point of view, we will make three remarks tending
to elucidate the history. The crimes of the sons ^
of Eli, the indulgence of the unhappy father, and
the punishment of that indulgence demand our at-
tention.

Observe the crimes of the sons of Eli. They '
supported their debaucheries by the victims, which
the people brought to the tabernacle to be offered
in sacrifice. The law assigned them the shoulders
and the breasts of all the beasts sacrificed for peace
ofierings : but not content with these, they seized
the portions, which God had appointed to such as
brought the offerings, and which he had command-

VOL. V. A

2 THE FA r AL CONSEQUENCES OF

ed them to cat in his presence to signify their con*-
munion with him. They drew these portions with
flesh-hooks out of.lhe caldrons, in which they were
boiling. Sometimes they took them raw, that they
might have an opportunity of preparing them to
their taste ; and thus by serving themselves before
God they discovered a contempt for those just and
charitable ends, which God had in view, when he
ordained that his ministers should live on a part of
the sacrifices. God, by providing a table for the
priests in his own house, intended to make it ap-
pear, that they had the honor of being his domes-
tics, and, so to speak, that they lived on his reve-
nue. This was a benevolent design. God also,
by appointing the priests to eat after they had sa-
crificed, intended to make them understand, that
he was their sovereign* and the principal otgect of
all the ceremonies performed in his palace. These
were just views.

The excesses of the table generally prepare the
way for debauchery ; and the sons of Eli having
admitted the first, had fallen into the last, so that
they abused the womcny that assembled at the door
of the taberyiacle of the congregatioriy chap. ii. 22.
and to such a degree had they carried these enor-
mities, that the people, who had been used to fre-
quent the holy place only for the purpose of ren-
dering homage to Almighty God, were drawn
thither by the abominable desire of gratifying the
inclinations of his unworthy ministers. Such were
the crimes of the sons of Eli.

Let us observe next the indulgence of the parent ^
He did not wholly neglect to correct his sons, for
the reproofs he gave them are recorded in the se-
cond chapter. Why do ye such things ^ said he
•to them,,/br / hear of your evil dealings by all this
people. Do not so my sons, for it is no good re-

A BAD EDUCATION, 5

port that I hear. To perform a duty of such im-
portance with so much indifference was equal to an
encouragement of the sin. Eli made use of peti-
tions £Mid exhortations, when he ought to have ap-
?lied sharp reproofs, and alarming threatenings,
le censured and rebuked, when he ought to have
anathematised and thundered : accordingly, after
the holy spirit had related the reproofs, which £11,
in the words just now cited, addressed to his sons,
he tells us in the text, by a seeming contradiction,
but in words full of truth and good sense, that Eli
restrained them not.

Observe thirdly what terrible punishments this
criminal indulgence drew down upon the guilty
father, the profligate sons, and even the whole
people under their direction. A prophet had be-
fore denounced these judgments against Eli, in
order to engage him to prevent the repetition of
the crimes, and the infliction of the punishments^
Wherefore honorest thou thy sons above me ? said
the man of God. / said, indeed, that thy house,
end the house of thy father should walk before me
for ever ; but behold the days come that I will cut
off thine arm, and the arm of thy father^ s house,
that there shall not be an old man in thine house.
And thou shall see an enemy in my habitation, in
all the wealth which God shall give Israel. And
the man of thine, whom I shall not cut off from
mine altar, shall be to consume thine eyes, and to
grieve thine heart. And this shall be a sign unto
thee, thy txqo sons, Hophni a?id Phinehas in one
day shall both of them die, diap. ii. 29» &c.

These threatenings were accomplished in all their
rigor. The arm is in scripture an emblem of
strength, and when the prophet threatened Eli,
that the Lord would cut o^* his arm, and the arm
^f hi^ father's house, he meant to foretel that the

4 TH£ FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

family of this priest should fall into decay. Hophni
and Phinehas perished in battle when the Philistines
conquered the Israelites. Ahitub and Ichabod^
the sons of Phinehas, lived only a few years after
the death of their father. If we believe a tradition
of the Jews, this threatening was accomplished
many ages after it was uttered. We are told in
the Talmud, that there was at Jerusalem a family,
in which no one outHved the eighteenth year of his
age; and that a famous Rabbi found by enquiring
into the origin of that family, that it descmided
from Eli. A rival, Zadok, was made high priest
instead of Abiathar, a descendant of Eli. We are
able to prove by very exact registers that the high
priest continued in the family of Zadok not only
from the building of the temple to the destruction
of it, that is to say for the space of four hundred
years, but even to the time of Antiochus and
Epiphanes. The rest of the misfortunes of Eli,
the victory obtained by the Philistines, the taking
of the ark, the confusion which brought on the la-
bor and thedeathof the wife of Phinehas, who expir-
ed, sayings name the child Ichabod^for the glory is
departed Jrom Israel^ chap. iv. 1 9, &c. the vio-
lent death of Eli; all these events are fully known.
I hasten to the chief design of this discourse.
The extreme rigor, which God used toward Eli,
and the terrible judgments, with which he punish-
ed the indulgence of this unhappy parent seem to
offend some, who have not attended to the great
guilt of a parent, who neglects to devote his chil-
dren to God by a holy education. I am going to
endeavor to remove this oflFence, and, in order to
do so, I shall not confine myself to my text, but
shall treat of the subject at large, and shew you,
as our time will allow, first, the crimes and mise-
ries of a parent, whe neglects the education of his

A BAD EDUCATION. S

hxaHy ; and secondly, the means of preventing '
them. We will direct our reflections so that they
may instruct not only heads of families, but all
our hearers, and so that what we shall say on the
education of children, by calling to mind the
faults committed in our own, may enable us to
correct them.

To neglect the education of our children, is to
be ungrateful to God, whose wonderful power,
created and preserved them. With what marvel-
lous care doth a kind providence watch over the
formation of our infants, and adjust all the different
parts of their bodies }

'With what marvellous care doth a kind provi-
dence provide for their wants : for at first they are
Kke those idols*- of which a prophet speaks, they
have eyes and see not, they have ears and hear
noty they have feet and cannot walk. Frail, in-
firm, and incapable of providing for their wants,
they find a sufficient supply in those feelings of
humanity and tenderness, with which nature in-
spires all human kind. Who can help admiring
that, at a time when infants have nothing that can
please, God enables them to move the compassion
of their parents, and to call them to their succor
by a language^ore eloquent and more pathetic
than the best studied discourses ?

With what marvellous care doth a kind provi-
dence preserve them amidst a multitude of acci-
dents, which seem to conspire together to snatch
them' away in their tenderest infancy, and in all
their succeeding years ? Who but a being Al-
mighty and all-merciful could preserve a machine
so brittle, at a time when the least shock would be
sufficient to destroy it ?

With what astonishing care doth a kind provi-
dence provide for those wants, which old age inca-

6 THE FATAL COMS£QU£KC£S OF

pacitates us to supply ? Who can shut his eyes
against all those wonders without sinking into the
deepest stupidity, and without exposing himself to
the greatest misery.

To neglect the education of our children is fo.
refuse to retrench that depravity^ which he com*
municated to them. Suppose the scriptures h^
Qot spoken expressly on the subject of original de-
pravity, yet it would argue great stupidity to quQs->
tion it. As soon as infants discover any signs of
reason, they discover signs of depravity, and their
malice appears as their ideas unfold themselves*
Sin in them is a fire at first concealed, next emit^
ting a few sparks, and at last bursting into a great
bla^e, unless it be prevented in time. Whence
do they derive so great an infection ? Can we
doubt it, my brethren f They derive it from us,
and by communicating our nature we coniipuaiT
cate our depravity. It is impossible, being our
children, that they should not be depraved, as we
are, for, to use the language of scripture, theip
fathers are Amorites and their mothers are Hit^
titesy Ezek. xvi. 13, Here I wish I could give you
some notion of thifi mortifying mystery ; I wish I
could remove the difficulties, which prevent your
seeing it ; I wish I could ^hew you what a union
there is between the brain of an infant and that of
its mother, in order to convince you that sin passes
from the parent to the child.

What ! can we in cool blood behold our children
in an abyss, into which we have plunged them 5
can we be sensible that we have done this evil, and
not endeavor to relieve them ? Not being able to
make them innocent, shall we not endeavor to
render them penitent ? Ah ! victims of my depra-
vity, unhappy heirs of the crimes of your par^pts,
innocent creaturei boniQ»ly to 3u0i^r> met^inksjl

.t

A BAD EDVCAtlON. 7

Otight to ipeproateh myself for uU the pains you feel,
all the tears y^u shed, and all the sighs you utter.
Methinks^ evttry time you cfy, you ffeprove me for
Ituy itiseiisibiltty and injustice. At least, it is right,
that, as I acknowledge myself the cause of the
fevil, I should employ myself in repairing it, and
ethleavor to renew your nature by endeavoring, to
renew my own.

This reflection leads us to a third. To neglect
the education of our children is to be wanting in
that tejidernessy which is so much their due. What
can we do for them ? What inheritance can wt
transmit to them? Titles? They are often nothing
but empty sounds without meaning and reality.
Riches ? TTiey often make themselves wifigs, and
fiy away^ Prov. xxiii. 5. Honors ? They are
often mixed with disagreeable circumstances,
which poison all the pleasure, tt is a religious
education, piety and the fear of God, that makes
the fairest inheritance, the noblest succession, that
we can leave our families.

If any worldly care may lawfully occupy the
mind of a dying parent, when in his last moments
the soul seems to be called to detach itself from
evefry worldly concern, and to think of nothing
but eternity^ it is that, which hath our children for
its object. A christian in such circumstances finds
his heart divided between the familv, which he is
reaving in the world, and the holy relations, which
be is going to meet in heaven. He feels himself
pressed by turns between a desire to die, which is
most advantageous for him, and a wish to live,
which seems most beneficial to his family. He
says, lam in a strait betnizt twOy having a de-
sire to depart, and to be with Christy zvhich is far
better ,• nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more
needful for you, Phil i. 23, 24. We are terrified

8 THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

at that crowd of dangers, in which we leave these
dear parts of ourselves. The perils seem to mag-
nify as we retire from the sight of them. One
while we fear for their health, another while we
tremble for their salvation. My brethren, can
you think of any thing more proper to prevent or
to pacify, such emotions than the practice of that
duty, which we are now pressing as absolutely ne-
cessary ? A good father on his death-bed puts on
the same dispositions to his children as Jesus
Christ adorned himself with in regard to his disci-
ples immediately before the consummation of that
great sacrifice, which he was about to offer to the
justice of his Father. The soul of our divine Sa-
viour was affected with the dangers, to which his
dear disciples were going to be exposed. Against
these gloomy thoughts he opposed two noble re-
flections. First, he remembered the care, which
he had taken of them, and the great principles,
which he had formed in their minds ; and secondly,
he observed that shadow of the Almighty^ under
which he had taught them to abide^ Psal. xci. 1.
/ have manifested thy name unto the men which
thou gavest me. While I was with them in the
worldy I kept them ifi thy name, and none of them
is lost but the son of perdition. They are not of
the worldy even as I am not of the world, John
xvii. 6, 12, 16. This is the first reflection. Now
1 am no more in the world, but these are in the
world, and I come to thee. Holy Father, keep
through thine own name those, whom thou hdst
given me, that they may be one, as we are. I
pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the
world, but that thou shouldst keep them from the
evil. Sanctify them through thy truth, thy zvord is
(ruth. Father, I zoill that they also, ivhom thou

A BAD EDUCATION. 9

hast given me, bezmth me where 1 am, ver.ll. 15.
1 7. This is the second reflection.

These two reflections are impenetrable shields,
and a parent should never separate them. Would
you be in a condition to oppose the second of these
shields against such attacks as the gloomy thoughts
just now mentioned will make upon your hearts on
that day, in which you quit the world and leave
your children in it ? Endeavor now to arm yourself
with the first. Would you have them abide under
the shadow of the Almighty ? Inculcate his fear
and his love in their hearts. Would you be able to
say as Jesus Christ did, holy Father, I will that
they whom thou hast given me be with me, that
they may behold thy, glory ; keep them through
thy name ? Put yourself now into a condition to
enable you then to say to God as Christ did, /
have given them thy word, they are not of the
world even as I am not of the world.

To neglect the education of our children is to
let loose madmen against the state, instead of fur-
nishing it with good rulers or good subjects. That
child int^ded for the church, what will he become,
if he be not animated with such a spirit as ought
to enliven a minister of religion ? He will turn out
a trader in sacred things, and prove himself a spy
in our families, afomenter of faction in the state,
who under pretence of glorifying God, will set the
world on fire. That other child intended for the
bar, what will he become, unless as much pains be
taken to engage him to love justice as to make him
know it, or to make him not disguise it as well as
understand it ? He will prove himself an incen-
diary who will sow seeds of division in families^
render law-suits eternal, and reduce to indigence
and beggary even those clients, whose causes he
shall have art enough to gain4 And that child*

10 THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

whom you have rashly determined to push into
the highest offices of state without forming in him
such dispositions as are necessary to eminent posts,
what will he become ? A foolish or a partial judge»
who will pronounce on the fortunes and lives of his
fellow citizens just as chance or caprice may impel
him: a public blood-sucker, who will live upon
the blood and substance of those whom he ou^t
to support : a tyrant, who will rase and depopu-
late the very cities and provinces, which he ought
to defend.

The least indulgence of the bad inclinations of
children sometimes produces the most fatal effects
in society. This is exemplified in the life of Da-
vid, whose memory may truly be reproached on
this article, for he was one of the most weak of all
parents. Observe his indulgence of Amnon. It
produced incest. Remark his indulgence of Absap
lom, who besought him to allow his brethren to
partake of a feast, which he had prepared. It
produced an assassination. See his weak fondness
of the same Absalom, who endeavored to make
his way to the throne by mean and clownish man-
ners, affecting to shake hands with the Israelites
and to embrace and kiss them (these are the terms
of scripture,) and practising all such popular airs
as generally precede and predict sedition. This
produced a civil war. Remark how he indulged
Adonijah, who made himself chariots, and set up
a retinue of fifty men. The sacred historian tells
us, that his father had not displeased him at any
time, in saying, zvhy hast thou done so ? 1 Kings
i. 6. This produced an usurpation of the throne
and the crown.

To neglect the education of your children is to
furnish them with arms against yourselves. You
complain that the children, whom you have

A BAD EDUCATION. 1 1

brought up with so much tenderness, are the tor-
ment of your life, that they seem to reproach you
for living so long, and that, though they have de-
rived their being and support from you, yet they*
refuse to contribute the least part of their super-
fluities to assist and comfort you. You ought to
find fault with yourselves, for their depravity is a
natural consequence of such principles as you have
taught them. Had you accustomed them to re-
spect order, they would not now refuse to conform
to order ; but they would perform the greatest of
all duties : they would be the strength of your
weakness, the vigor of your reason, and the joy
of your Old age.

To neglect the education of diildren is to pre-
pare torments for a future statCy the bare appre-
faension of which tavist give extreme pain to every
heart capable of feeling. It is beyond a doubt,
that remorse is one of the chief punishments of
the damned, and who can question, whether the
most excruciating remorse will be excited by this
thought ; I have plunged my children into this
abyss, inta which I have plunged myself?

Imagine a parent of a family discovering among
the crowd of reprobates a son, whom he himself
led thither, and who addresses to him this terrible
language, ^' Barbarous father, what animal appe-
tites, or what worldly views inclined you to give
me existence, to what a desperate condition have
you reduced me ? See, wretch that you are, see
these flames, which burn and consume me. Ob-
serve this thick smoke which suffocates me. Be-
hold the heavy chains, with which I am loaded
down. These are the fatal consequences of the
principles you gave me. Was it not enough to
bring me into the world a sinner, was it necessary
to put me in arms against Almighty God ? Was it

1 2 THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

not enough to communicate to me natural depra-
vity, must you add to that the venom of a per-
nicious education ? Was it not enough to expose
me to the misfortunes inseparable from life, must
you plunge me into those, which follow death ?
ileturn me, cruel parent, return me to nothing,
whence you took me. Take from me the fatal ex-
istence you gave me. Shew, me mountains and
hills to fall on me, and hide me from the anger of
my judge : or, if that divine vengeance, which
pursues thee, will not enable thee to do so, I my-
self will become thy tormentor; I will for ever
present myself, a frightful spectacle, before thine
eyes, and by those eternal bowlings, which I will
incessantly pour into thine ears, I will reproach
thee, through all eternity I will reproach thee ^ with
my misery and despair.'*

Let us turn our eyes from these gloomy images,
let us observe objects more worthy of the majesty
of this place, and the holiness of ;Our ministry.
To refuse to dedicate our children to God by a re*
ligious education, is to refuse those everlasting
pleasures^ which as much surpass our thoughts
as our expressions.

It is a famous question in the schools, whether
we shall remember in heaven the connections we
had in this world ? Whether glorified spirits shall
know one another ? Whether a father will recol-
lect his son, or a son his father? And so on. I
will venture to affirm, that they, who have taken
the affirmative side, and they, who have taken the
negative on this question; have often done so
without any reason.

On the one side, the first have pretended to es-
tablish their thesis on this principle that something
would be wanting to our happiness, if we were
pot to know in a ^ture state those persons;, with

A BAD EDUCATION. 13

whom we had been united by the tenderest con-
nections in this present world.

On the other hand, if we knaw, say the parti-
zans of the opposite opinion, the condition of our
friends in a future i^tate^ how will it be possible,
that a parent should be happy in the possession of
a heaven, in which his children have no share;
and how can he possibly relish pleasure at the
right hand of God, while he revolvjes this dreadful
thought in his mind, my children are now, and
will for ever be tormented with the devil ?

It should seem, the proof and the objection are
equally groundless. The enjoyment of God is so
sufficient to satiate a soul, that it cannot be consi-
dered as necessary to the happiness of it to renew
such connections as were formed during a momen-
tary passage through, this world. I oppose this
against the argument for the first opinion : and I
oppose the same against the objection, for the en-
joyment of God is every way so sufficient to satiate
a soul, that it can love nothing but in God, and
that its felicity cannot be altered by the miseries of
those, with whom there will then be no connection.

A consideration of another kind has always
made me incline to the opinion of those who take
the affirmative side of this question. The perfec-
tions of God are here concealed under innumera-
ble veils. How often does he seem to countenance
iniquity by granting a profusion of favors to the
contrivers of the most infernal schemes? How often
doth he seem to declare himself against innocence
by the misfortunes, which he leaves the innocent
to suffer ? How often have we seen tyrants on a
throne, and good people in irons ? Doth not this
awful phoenomenon furnish us with an irrefragable
argument for the doctrine of a general judgment
^nd ^ future state ? Which of your preachers h^th

14 THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

not frequently exhorted you to judge nothing before
the timey 1 Cor. iv. 5. at the end of time cometh
the restitution of all things. Acts iii. 21. which
will justify providence ?

Now, it should seem, this argument, which none
but infidels and libertines deny, and which is ge-
nerally received by all christians, and by all phi-
losophers, this argument, I say, fetors, not to say
establishes in an incontestible manner, the opinion
of those, who think, that the saints will know one
another in the next life. Without this how could
we acquiesce in the justice of the sentence, which
will then be pronounced on all ? Observe St. Paul,
whose ministry was continually counteracted.
What motive supported him under so much oppo-
sition ? Certainly it was the expectation of see mg^
one day with his own eyes the conquests^ which he

obtained for Jesus Christ ; souls which he had
plucked out of the jaws of satan ; believers whom
he had guided to eternal happiness. Hear what he
said to the Thessalonians, What is our hope, or
joy, or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in
the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his com^
ing ? For ye are our glory and Joy, chap. ii.
19. 20.

Now, this is the hope, this is tlie crozvn, which
I propose to you, heads of families, to engage
you to dedicate your children to God by a religious
education.

It was this thought, which supported one of the
wisest of the heathens against the fears of death,
I mean Cato of Utica. No man had a greater
affection for a son, than he had for his. No man
bore the loss with greater firmness and magnani-
mity^ « O happy day, when I shall quit this
wretched crowd, and join that divine and happy
of noble souls, who have quitted the

r

A BAD EDUCATION. 15

world before me ! I shall there meet not only these
illustrious personages, but my dear Cato, who, I
will venture to say, was one of the best of men, of
the best natural dispositions, and the most punc-
tual in the discharge of his duties, that ever was.
I have put his body on the funeral pile, whereas he
should have placed mine there : but his soul hath not
left me, and he hath only stepped first into a coun-
try where I shall soon join him."

If this hope made so great an impression on the
mind of a pagan, what ought it not to produce in
the heart of a christian ? What infinite pleasure,
when the voice shall cry. Arise ye dead, to see
those children whom God gave you ? What supe-
rior delight, to behold those whom an immature
death snatched from us, and the loss of whom cost
us so many tears ? What supreme satisfaction, to
embrace those, who closed our eyes, and perform-
ed the last kind offices for us ? O the unspeakable
joy of that ehristian father, who shall walk at the
head of a christian family, and present himself with
all his happy train before Jesus Christ, offering to
him hearts worthy to serve such a master, and say-
ing to him, behold me, and the children ivhich God
hath given me; Heb. ii. 13.

We have been speaking of the fatal consequences
of an irreligious education ; and now we wish we
could put you all into a condition to prevent them.
But, alas ! how can some of you reduce our ex-
hortations to practice ? You disconsolate fathers,
you distressed mothers, from whom persecution
has torn away these dear parts of yourselves, ye
weeping 'Davids, ye mourning Rachels, who, in-
deed, do not weep because your children are not,
but because, though they are, and though you gave
them existence, you cannot give them a religious
education ? Ah ! how can you obey our voice ?

16 . THE FATAL COKSEQUEKCES OF

Who can calm the cruel fears, which by turns di-
vide your souls ? What results from all the conflicts^
which pass within you, and which rend your hearts
asunder ? Will you go and expose yourselves to
persecution ? Will you leave your children alone
to be persecuted ? Will you obey the voice that
commands, fiee out of Bahyloiiy and deliver every
man his own soul, Jer. 1.6. or that which cries.
Take the young child ? Matt. ii. 20. O dreadful
alternative ! Must you be driven, in some sort, to
make an option between their salvation and yours,
must you sacrifice yours to theirs, or theirs to
your own ? '

Ah ! cruel problem ! — Inhuman suspence ! ThoU
tyrant, is not thy rage sufficiently glutted by de^
stroying pur material temples, must you lay your
barbarous hands on the temples of the holy Ghost ?
Is it not enough to plunder us of our property,
must you rob us of our families ? Is it not enough
to render life bitter, — would you make eternity des-
perate and intolerable ?

But, it is not to tyrants that we would address
ourselves, they are inaccessible to our voice, or in-
flexible to our complaints. It is to God alone,
who turns them as he thinks proper, that we ad-
dress our prayers. Hagar found herself banished
into a desert, and she had nothing to support her
but a few pieces of bread and a bottle of water.
The water being spent, her dear Ishmael was rea-
dy to die with thirst. She laid him under a bush,
and only desired that she might not see him die.
She rambled to some distance, wept as she went,
and said. Let me not see the death of the childy
Gen. xxi. 16, &c. See, she cannot help it, she
sits over against hhu^ lifts up her voice, andzveeps.
God heard the voice of the mother and the child,
and, by an angel, said unto her, zvhat aileth thee

A BAD EDVCATIOK. 1 7

Hagar ? fear not, for God hath heard the voice
of the lad. Arise^ take hold of his handj and
lift him upy for I will make him a great nation.
See what a source of consolation I open to you !
Lift up the voice and weep. O Father of spirits^
God of the spirits of all fleshy Heb. xii. 9. Num.
xvi. 22. Thou Supreme, whose essence is love, and
whose chief character is mercy, thou who wast
touched to see Nineveh repent, and who wouldst
' not involve in the general destruction the many in-
fants at nurse in that city, who could not discern
between their right hand and their lefty John iv;
1 1. wilt thou not regard with eyes of affection and
pity our numerous children, who cannot disceril
truth from error, who cannot believe^ because they
have not heardy who canhot hear withinU a
preacher^ and to whom, alas ! no preacher is sent ?
— ilom. X. 14. . ' . »

But you happy fathers, you, mothers, dfikvorites
of heaven^ who assemble your children around
you, as a hengathereth her chickens under Aer
zvingSy Matt, xxiii. 37. can you neglect a duty>
which is imf!)racticable to others ? The tyrants awi
persecutors should display their fury by making
havock of our children, and by offering them to
the devil, is, I allow, extremely shocking, but there
is nothing in it very wonderful 3 but that ebristian
fathers and mothers should conspire . together in
such a tragical design would be a spectacle int^om-
parably more shocking,"" and the horror of which
the blackest colors are unable to pourtray. .

How forcibly soever the rtiotives, which we have
alleged, may be, I fear they will be ineffectual,
and such as will not influence the greatest part of
you. It must be allowed, that, if there be any
case, to which the words of our Saviour are appli-
cable, it is this of which we are speaking, strait

VOL. Y. c

18 THE FATAL €C»rS£QUfiNC£S OF

is the gatCy and narrow is the way, which leadeth
unto life, and fezv there be that Jind it. Matt,
vii. 14.

A reformation of the &lse ideas, which you form
on the education of children, ]s» to speak, the
first step, which you ought to take in the road set
before you this day. No, it is not such vague in*
stmctions as you give your thildrcn, such super-
ficial pains as you take to make them virtuous,,
such general exhortations as you address to them>
it is not all this, that constitutes such a religious
education as God requires you to give them. £n-
berlain motions more rational, and remember the
iem maximSy which I. am going to propose to you
as the oondiision of this disconarse.

"First maxim. Ddays, always dangerous in
caaes ef practical religion^ are peculiarly fatal in
the case of education. As soon as children see
the light, and begin to think and reason^ we should
end^vor to form them to piety. Let us place the
fear of God in these young hearts, before the world
cemget possession of them, before the power of
habit be united to that of constitution. Let ua
ttvail oursielves of the flexibility of their organs,.
4he fidelity of their memories, and the facility of
^heir conceptions. To render their duty pleasing^
40 theih by the ease with which they are taught to
discbarge it.

Second maxim. Although the end of the divens
^methods of educating children ought to be the
same, yet^it should oe varied according to their
-different characters. Let us study our children with
as much applu^ation as we have studied ourselves.
Both these studies are attended with difficulties :
and as self-love often prevents our knowing our»
selves> so a natursd fondness for our children ren^

A BAD SDUCATION. 19

ders it extremely difficult &r us to discover their
propensities.

Third maxim. A procedure, wise in itself and
proper to inspire children with virtue, may some-
times be rendered useless by symptoms of passions^
with which it is accompanied. We cannot edu-
cate them wdl without a prudent mixture of se-
verity and gentleness. But on the one hand,
what success can we expect from gentleness, if
they discover that it is not the fruit of our care to
reward what in them is worthy of reward, but of a
natural mclination, which we have not the courage
to resist, and which makes us yieid more to the mo-
tions of our animal machine, than to the dictates
of reason ? On the other hand, what good can
they derive from our severity, if they see, that it
proceeds from humor and caprice more than from
om* hatred to sin, and our desire to free them from
it ? If our eyes sparkle, if we take a high tone of
voice^ if our mouths &oth, when we chastise tbemi
what good can come of such chastisements ?

Fourth maxim. The best means of procuring
a good education lose all their ibrce» unless they
be supported by the examples of such as employ
them. Example is always a great motive, and it is
especially such to youth. Children know how to
imitate before they can speak, before they can rea-
son, and, so to speak, before they ai*e bom. In
their mother's wombs, at the breasts of their nurses,
they receive impressions from exterior objects, aiKl
take the form of all that strikes them. What suc-
cess, miserable mother, can you expect from your
exhortations to piety^ while your children see you
yourself all^taken up with the world, and its amuse-
ments and pleasures ; passing a great part of your
life in gaming, and in forming criminal intrigues,
which, far from hiding from your family, you ex-

20 THE FATAL CONSEQUENCES OF

pose to the sight of all mankind ? What success
can you expect from your exhortations to your
children, you wretched father, when they hear you
blaspheme your Creator, and see you living fn dcr
bauchery, drowning your reason in wine, and glut-
tony, and so on.

Fifth maxim. A liberty, innocent when it is
taken before men, becomes criminal, when it is
taken before tender minds, not yet formed. What
circumspection, what vigilance, I had almost said,
what niceties doth this maxim engage us to ob-
serve ? Certain words spoken, as it were, into the
air, certain imperceptible allusions, certain smiles,
escaping before a child, and which he hath not
been taught to suspect, are sometimes snares more
fatal to his innocence than the most profane dis-
courses, yea they are often more dangerous than
the most pernicious examples, for them he hath
been taught to abhor.

Sixth maxim. The indefatigable pains which
we ought always to take in educating our children,
ought to be redoubled on these decisive eVents,
which influence both the present life, and the fu-
ture state. For example, the kijid of lifty to
which we devote them, is one of these decisive
events. A good father regulates his views in this
respect, not according to a rash determination
made when the child was in the cradle, but ac-
cording to observations deliberately made on the
abilities and manners of the child.

Companions too are to be considered as deciding
on the future condition of a child. A good fa-
ther with this view will choose such societies as will
second his own endeavors, he will remember the
maxim of St. Paul, Evil communications corrupt
good manmr^ i.Coiv xv. 93. for he knows, that
f^ 4is^lttU^iiBiiMMWP^bat^ oheu eradicated from

..»i9a<.

A BAD EDUCATION. 21

the heart of a youth all the good seeds, which a
pious family had sown there.

Above all, marriage is one of these decisive
steps in life. A good father of a family, unite$
his children to others by the two bonds of virtue
and religion. How can an intimate union be
formed with a person of impious principles, without
familiarizing the virtuous by degrees with impiety,
without losing by little and little that horror, which
impiety would inspire, and without imbibing by
degrees the same spirit ? So necessary is a bond
of virtue. That of religion is no less so, for the
crime, which drew the most cutting reproofs upon
the Israelites after the captivity, and which brought
upon them the greatest judgments, was that of
contracting marriages with women not in the co-
venant. Are such marriages less odious now, when
by a profane mixture, people unite light and dark-
nessy Christ and Belial, the temple of God and
idols f 2 Cor. vi. 14, 15. Are such marriages less
hateful now, when, by a horrible partition, the
children, if there be any, are mutually ceded before
hand, and in cool blood disposed of thus, the sons
shall be taught the truth, the daughters shall be edu^
cated in error, the boys shall be for heaven, the girls
for hell, a son for God, a daughter for the devil.

Seventh maxim. The best meansfortheeducation
of children must be accompanied with fervent pray-
er. If you have paid any attention to the max-
ims we have proposed, I shall not be surprised to
hear you exclaim. Who is sufficient for these
things ? 2 Cor. ii. 16. But, if it be the fear of
not succeeding in educating your children, which
dictates this language, and not that indolence,
which tries to get rid of the labor, be you fully per-
suaded, that the grace of God will triumph over
your great infirmities. Let us address to him the

I

i^ TH£ FATAL COKSEQUENCES OF^ &C.

most fervent prayers for the happiness of those chil>
dren, who are so dear to us, and let us believe that
they will return in benedictions upon them. Let
each parent collect together all his piety, and then
let him give himself up to the tenderest emotions
towards his children. O God ! who didst present
thyself to us last Lord's day, under the amiable
idea of a parent, pitying them that fear thee as a
father pitieth his children, Psal. ciii. 13. O G^od !
who thyself lovest thy Son with infinite tenderness
and vehemence : O God ! author of the tender af»
fections, which unite me to the children thou hast
given me, bless the pains I take in their education:
disobedient children, my God, I disown : let me
see th^ni die in infancy, rather than go along with
the torrent .of general immorality, and run, with
the children of the world to thw excess of riot^
1 Pet. IV. 4. I pray for their sanctification with
an ardor a thousand times more vehement than I
desire their fortune : and the first of all my wishes
is to be able to present them to thee on that great
day, when thou wilt pronounce the doom of all
mankind, >and to say to thee then. Lord, behold
here am /, and the children thou hast given me.
May Grod excite such prayers, and answer them !
To him be honor and glory for ever. Amen.

SERMON 11.

GENERAL MISTAKE^-

RoMAMs m. 2.

Bt not cutfarmtdto tbit mnrU.

OF alt the discourses ddivered in this pulpit^
those which deserve the greatest deference^
and usually ebtaiiithe leasts are such as treat of
general mistakes. What subjects require greater
deference ? Our design in treating of them is to
dissipate those illusions^ with which the whole
world is familiar, which are authorized by the mul-
titiide, and which like epidemical diseases, inflict-
ed sometimes by providence on public bodies, in-
volve the state, the church, and individuals. Yet
are any discourses less respected than such as these?
To attack general mistakes is to excite the displea-
sure of all who favor them, to disgust a whole au*
ditory, and to acquire the most odious of all titles,
I mean that of public censor. A preacher is then
obliged tQi choose, either never to attack such mis*
takes as the multitude think (it to authorize, or to
renounce the advantages, which he may promise
himself, if he adapt his subjects to the taste
of his auditors, and touch their disorders only so
far as to accommodate their crimes to their con*
scienoet.

24 G£K£RAL MISTAKES.

Let us not hesitate what part to take. St. Paul
determines us by his example. I am going to-day^
in imitation of this apostle, to guard you against
the rocks, where the many are shipwrecked. He
exhorts us, in the words of the teict, not to take
the world for a model ; the worldy that is the crowds
the multitude, society at large. But what society
hath he in view ? Is it that of ancient Rome, which
he describes as extremely depraved in the begin-
ning of this epistle ? Does he say nothing of our
world, our cities and provinces ? We are going to
examine this, and I fear I shall be able to prove to
you, that our multitude is a dangerous guide to
shew us the way to heaven ; and, to confine our*
selves to a few articles, I shall prove that they are
bad guides to direct us, first, in regard to faith, —
secondly, in regard to the worship which God re-
quires of us; — thirdly, in regard to morality;—
and lastly, in regard to the hour of death. In these
four views I shall enforce the words of my text^
Be not conformed to this world. This is the whole
plan of this discourse.

I. The multitude is a bad guide to direct our
faith. . We will not introduce here the famous con-
troversy on this question, whether a great number
form a presumption in favor of any religion, or
whether universality be a certain evidence of the
true christian church ? How often has this question
been debated and determined! How often have
we proved against one community, which displays
the number of its professors with so much parada^
that, if the pretence were well founded, it would
operate in favor of paganism, for pagans were air-
ways more numerous than christians ! How often
have we told them, that in divers periods of the
ancient church idolatry and idolaters have been en^

GENERAL MISTAKES. 25

throned in both the kingdoms of Judah and Israel!
How often have we alleged, that in the time of
Jesus Christ the church was described as a little
jlocky Luke xii. 32. that heathens and Jews were
all in league against Christianity at first, and that
the gospel had only a small number of disciples !
How often have we retorted, that for whole centu-
ries there was no trace, no shadow of the opinions
of modem Rome ! But we will not apply ourselves
to this controversy to-day by fixing your attention
on the sophisms of foreigners, perhaps we might
divert your eyes from yobr own ; by shewing you
our triumphs over the vain attacks made on us by
the enemies of the reformation, perhaps we might
turn away your attention from other more danger*-
ous wounds, which the refottned themselves aim at
the heart of religion: Wlien I say;i tbeihultitude
is a bad guide in matters of faith, I tnean, that
themadner, in':whichtmost men adhere to truths
is not by principles, which ought to attach them
to it, but by a spirit of negligence and prejudice.
It is no small work to examine the truth, when
we arrive at an age capable of discussion. The
fundamental points of religion, I grant, lie in the
scriptures clear and perspicuous^ and within the
comprdiension of all who chuse to attend to them :
but when we pass from infancy to manhood, and
arrive at an age in which reason seems mature, we
find ourselves covered with a veil, which either
hides objects from us, or disfigures them. The
public discourseswe have heard in favor of the sect,
in which we were educated, the inveterate hatred
we have for all others, who hold principles' oppo-
site to ours, the frightful portraits that are drawn
before out eyes of the perils we must encounter^
if we depart from the way we have been, brought
up in, the impressions made upon us by the exam^

VOL. v. D

26 G£K£&AI* MISTAKES.

pies and decisioiis oi our parents, and masters, and
teachers, the bad taste of those, who bad the care
of our education, and who prevented our acquir-
ing that most noble disposition,, without which ft is
impossible ever to be a true philosopher, or a real
christian, I mean that of suspending ^ur judg-
ment.on subjects not sufficiently prov^ : from all
this arise clouds, that render the truth inaecessi-^
ble, and which the world cannot dissipate. We do
not say,^ that natural talents or supernatural assist *
ance are wanting ; we are fully convinced that God
wifl never give up to final error any man who does
all in his power to understand the truth; But the
world are incapable of this.work. Why ? Because
all the worlds except .a few^ hate labor and medi-
tation in regard to the ^subjects,, which respect
another life ; because all the world would choose
rather to attach themselves to what reeards their
temporal interests than to i :tbe great : mterest of
etemsd hi^piness : because all .the woiid like better
to suppose the principles imbibed in their diildhood
true, than to impose on themselves the task of
weighing them anew in the balance of a soiind and
severe reason I because all the world r have an
invincible aversion to suppose, that when ihey are
arrived at manhood they have almost^ lost their time
in some respects, and that when they leave school
they begin to be capable of instruction.

I£ the nature of the thing cannot convince you,
that the multitude continue through negligence in
the profession of that religion, in which they were
born, experience may here supply the place of
reasoning. There is an infinite variety of geniusses
among mankind. Propose to an assembly a ques-
tion, that no system hath yet decided, and you
will find, as it is usually said^ as many opinions as
heads. .

CENEItAL MISTAKES.- 27

. It is certain, if mainkind were al&tached to a re-
ligion only laecause tbey bad studied it; we should
find a . great i number of people forsake that, in
which they had been brought, up, for it is impossi-
ble, that a whole society fi^uld unite in t>£ie point
of error, or jrather, it is <?lear to a demonstration,
that > as trutlft hath certain, characters superior to
fklshood, the temples of idols* would be instantly
deserted, erroneous sects would be sooti: abandon-
ed, the 'religion of Jesus Chri^, the only one wor*
thy of being!Cembr.ai:ed, , the only one that deserves
disciples, would be the only one . lembraced, and
would aloae be received by all sincere disciples of
truth.

Do not. think,; my brethren^ that. this reflection
concerning that spirit of negligence, which retains
most men in a profession; jof.th^r ownrreli^on, re>>
gards only such comnmnioixs.as lay down their own
infaHibility for a fundamental article of faith, and
which, prescribe ignorance and blind submission as
a first principle to their partisans, for it is but too
easy to prove, ithat the same .spirit of negligence *
reigns in all communities. Hence it <x)mes to
pass, that in general so few christians can render a*
reason for their faith. Hence it is that pepple are
usually better furnished with arguments to oppose
such societies as surround them, than with those^
which establish the fimdamentsd truths of chrtst
tianity. If then you follow the direction c^ the
multkude in the study of religion, you will be
(X)nducted by a spirit of negligence, prefudice will
be -held for proof, - education for argument, and the
decisions of your parents and teachers for in&Ui*
ble oracles of truth.

. II; The multitude is a bad guide in regard to
that worships which God requireth of us, they de*

S8 GENERAL MISTAKES.

file it with a spirit of superstition. Superstition is
a disposition of mind, that inclines us to regulate
all parts of divine worship, tiot by just notions of
the Supreme Being, nor by his relations to us^ nor
by what ho has condescended to reveal, but by our
own fancies. A superstitious man entertains fan-
tastical ideas ^f God, and renders to him capri-
cious worship ; he not unfrequently takes himself
JTor a model of God ; he thinks that what most re-
sembles himself^ however mean and contemptible^
approaches nearest to perfection. We affirm^ this
disposition is almost universal.

It would be needless to prove this to you, my
brethren, in regard to erroneous communities.
Were superstition banished from the world, we
should not see,men^ who are made in the image of
God, disj^ace their nature -by prostrating them-
selves before idols,, aaid marmosets, so as to render
religious honors to half a block of wood or stone,
the other half *of which they apply to the meanest
purposes : we ^should not see a crowd of idolaters
performing a ceremonial, in which conviction of
mind hath no part, and which is all external and
material : we ^should not see a concourse of people
receiving with respect, as the precious blood of the
Saviour of the world, a few drops of putrified wa-
ter, which the warmth of the sun bathprodueed by
fermentation in the trunk of a decayed tree : we
should not :see pilgrims in procession mangling their
flesh: in the streets, dragging along heavy loads,
howling in the high-ways, and taking such absurd
practices for that repentance, which | breaks the
heart, ' arid transforms and renews thedife. You
will easily grant all this, for, I have observed, it is
often less difficult to inspire you with horror for
these practices, than to excite compassion in yom
ibr such as perform them.

GENERAL MISTAKES. $9

But you ought to be informed, thait there are
other superstitions less gross, and therefore nniore
dangerous. Among us we do not put a worship
absolutely foreign to the purpose in the place of
that, which God hath commanded and exempli^
lied to us, but we make an estimate of the several
parts of true worship. These estimates are regu-
lated by opinions formed through prejudice or pas-
sion. What best agrees with our inx^linations
we consider as the essence of religion, and what
would thwart and condemn them we think circum-
stantial.

We make a scruple of not attending a sermon,
not keeping a festival, not receiving the Lord'*
supper, but we make none of neglecting to visit a
prisoner, to comfort the sick, or to plead for the
oppressed. We observe a strict decency in our re-
ligious assemblies while our ministers address pray-
er to God, but we take no pains to accompany
him with our minds and hearts, to unite our ejacu-
lations with his to besiege the throne of grace. We
think it a duty to join our voices with those of a
whole congregation, and to fill our places of wor-
ship with the praises of our Creator, but we do
not think ourselves obliged to understand the sense
of the«psalm, that is sung with so much fervor, and,
in the language of an apostle, to sing with under-
standingy 1 Cor. xiv. 15. We lay aside innocent
occupations the day before we receive the Lord's
supper, but no sooner do we return frotn that or-
dinance than we allow the most crihiinal pleasures,
and enter upon the most scandalous intrigues.
Who make these mistakes, my brethren ? Is it the
few } Be not conformed to this worlds in regard to
the worship that God requires of you, the multi-
tude perform it in a spirit of superstition.

30 GENERAL MISTAKES.

III. Neither are the many a better guide in re*
gard to morality. Here, my brethren, we are go-
ing more particularly to describe that class of man*
Icind, among which we live, and of which weour-<
selves are a part. Indeed, the portraits we ar^ go-
ing to draw will not be flattering to them, for. jusr
tice requires, that we should describe men as they
are, not as they pretend to be. In order to exact-
ness let us consider them ' separately and apart.
First, In regard to the masters who govern them.
Secondly, in regard to the professions, which they
exercise. Thirdly, In regard to some mais^ims ge-^
nerally received. Fourthly, In regard to the splen-
did actions, which they celebrate. And lastly. In
regard to certain decisive occasions, that like touch-
stones discQvertheir principles, and ntotives.

1. Consider mankind in regard to the masters
wlio govern them. Here I congratulate myself on
the happiness of speaking to a free people, among
whom it is not reputed a crime to praise what is
praise worthy, and to blame what deserves blame,
and where we may freely trace the characters of
some men of whom prudence requires us not to
speak evily no not in thought y no not in the bed
chamber^ least a bird of the air should carry the
voice, and that which hath wings should tell the
mattery Eccles. x. 20. Is it in the palaces of the
great that humility reigns, humility which so well be-
comes creatures, who though crowned and enthron-
ed are yet infirm, criminal, dying creatures, and
who in a few days will become food for worms, yea
perhaps victims in the flames of hell ? Is it in the
palaces of the great that uprightness, good faith
and sincerity reign, yet without these society is
nothing but a banditti, treaties are only snares,
and laws cobwebs, which, to use a well known ex-
pression, catch only weak insects, while the free

GENERAL MISTAKES. « 31

I

and carnivorous^ break through ? Is it in the pa-
laces of the great that gratitude reigns^ that law-
ful tribute due to every motion made to procure
our happiness ? Is it there that the services of a
faithful subject, the. labors of an indefatigable
merchant, the perils of an intrepid s6ldiery, blood
shed and to be shed, are estimated and rewarded }
Is it there that the cries of the wretched are heard,
tears of the oppressed wiped away, the claims of
truth examined and granted ? Is it in the palaces
of the great that benevolence reigns, that benevo-
lence without which a man is onlv a wild beast ? Is
it there that the young ravens which cry are heard
and fed ? Psal cxlvii. 9- Is it there that they at^
tend to the bitter complaints of an indigent man^
ready to die with hunger, and who asks for no
more than will just keep him alive ? Are the pa-
laces of the great, seats of piety and devotion ? Is
it there that schemes are formed for the reformation
of manners ? Is it there that they are grieved /or
the affliction of Joseph^ Amos vi. 6. and take plea*
sure in the dust and stones of Zion ? Psalcii. 14.
Is it there that we hear the praises of the Creator,
do they celebrate the compassion of the Redeemer
of mankind ?

What ideas are excited in our minds by the names
of such as Caligula, Nero, Dioclesian, Decius, names
detestable in all ages ? What ideas could wf* excit6
in your minds, were we to weigh in a just balance
the virtues of such heroes as have been rendered
famous by the encomiums given them ? You would
be astonished to see that these men, who have been
called the delights of mankind, have often deserved
execration, and ought to be considered with horror.
But I purposely forbear, and will not put in thi§
list all that ought to be placed tliere, that is to say,
all those who have had sovereign power except a

32 GENERAL MISTAKES.

very few, who in comparison are next to none, and
who are, as it were, lost in the crowd among the rest.
And yet the elevation of kings makes their crimes
more communicable, and their examples more con-
tagious ; their sins become a filthy vapor infecting
the air, and shedding their malignant influence all
over our cities and families, lightning, and thunder-
ing, and disturbing the world. Accordingly you
see in general, that what the king is in his king-
dom, the governor is in his province ; what the go-
vernor is in his province, the nobleman is in his
domain ; what the nobleman is in his domain, the
master is in his family. The multitude is a bad
guide, mankind are a dangerous model, considered
in regard to the masters who govern them.

2. Consider the many in regard to divers pro^
fessions., What is the profession of p. soldier, par-
ticularly of an officer of rank in the army } It is to.
defend society, to maintain religion, to be a pa-
rent to the soldiery, to bridle the licentiousness of
arms, to oppose power against injustice, to derive
from all the views of death, that lie open before
him, motives to prepare his accounts to produce
before his judge. But what is the conduct of a
soldier ? Is it not to brave society ? Is it not to
trample upon religion ? Is it not to set examples of
debauchery, licentiousness and vengeance ? Is it
not to let out his abilities, and to sacrifice his life
to the most ambitious designs, and to the mo^t
bloody enterprizes of princes ? Is it not to accus-
tom himself to ideas of death and judgment till he
laughs at both, to stifle all remorse, and to extir-
pate all the fears, which such objects naturally ex-
cite in the consciences of other men ?

What is the profession of a judge ? It is to have
no regard to the. appearances of men, it is to.be

appeal to authority, to study

GEl^RAL MISTAUS. 33

with application the nature of :a cause^ /which he
is obliged to decide, it is patiently to go through
tbe mo$t fatiguing details of proofe and 'objections*
jBut what is often tlie conduct of a judge ? Is it
not to be struck with the exterior difference of two
parties appearing before him ? Is. it not to be inao-
cessible to the poor, to invent, cruel i^serves, and
intolerable delays ? Is it not to grovel in ignorance^
apd to hate study and labor.

What, is the profession of a man learned in the
law? It is to devote his service only to truth and
justice, to plead only a good cause, and to assist
evenf those^ who cannot reward his labors« Whsit
is the conduct of counsel ? Is it not to support both
the true and the false, and to maintain by > turns
both justice and iniquity ? Is it not to- adjust hisf
efforts to his own glory, or to his clients ability
to pay?

. What is the profession of a merchant ? It is to
detest false weights and measures, to pay his dues^
and never to found his fortune on falshood, fraud
and perjury. But what is the conduct of a mer-
chant ? Is it not to use false weights and measures ?
Is it not to cheat the state of its dues Ms it not
to indulge an insatiable avidity ? Is it not to en-
rich himself by telling untruths, by practising
frauds, by taking false oaths ?

What is the profession of a minister ? It is to de-
vote himself wholly to truth and virtue, to set the
whole church an example, to search into hospitals,
and cottages, to relieve the miseries of the sick
and the poor ; it is to determine himself in his stu-
dies, not by what will acquire him reputation for
learning and eloquence, but by what will be most
useful to the people, over whom he is set ; it is to
regulate his choice of subjects, not by what will
ra^e himself shine, but by what will most bene-

VOL. V. E

54 G£K£RAL MISTAKES.

fit the people among whom he exercises his minis^
try ', it is to take as much care of a dying person in
an obsciiFe family, lying on a bed of straw, lost in
oblivion and silence, as of him, who with an illus-
trious name lives amidst silver and gold, and for
whom the most magnificent and pom{k>us funeral
honors will be prepared, it is to cry aloud, to lift
up his voice like a trumpet, and shew the people
their transgressions^ and the house of Israel their
siHSy Isa. Iviii. 1. Mic. iii; 8. and 2 Cor. v. 16. it is
to know no man after the flesh when he ascends the
pcdpit, boldly to reprove vice, how eminent soever
the seat of it may be. What is the usual conduct
df a minister ? — O God ! Enter not into judgment
tvith' thy servants, for xve cannot answer one com-
plaint of a thousand ! Psal. cxliii. 2. Job. ix. 3.

3. Consider the multitude in regard ta some ge-
neral maxims, which they adopt, and hold as rules
and approved axioms. Have you read in the gos-
pel the following maxims ? Charity begins at home:
Youth is a time of pleasure. It is allowable to kill
time. We should not pretend to be saints. Slan-
der is the salt of conversation. We must do as
other people do. It is unworthy of a man of ho-
nor to put up an affront. A gentjeman ought to
avenge himself. Ambition is the vice of great
souls. Provided we commit no great crimes, we
sufficiently answer our calling. Impurity is anin^
tolerable vice in a woman, but it is pardonable in a
man. It would be easy to enlarge this catalogue.
Which of these maxims, pray, doth not sap some
of the first principles of the religion of Jesus Christ ?
Yet which of these maxims is not received in so-
ciety as a fundamental rule of action, which we
should be acoounted : singular and petulant to

Gondemfii^ ; '• *^' *

' 4^ Qofl|0^ in regard to certain

GENERAL MISTAKEN. 39

^tions^ cn which th^.ltwish praise and . write en-'
€omiums. We do not mean to speak at present of
$uch crimes as the depravity of the 'world some*
Upies celebrates UQder the notion of heroical ac-
tions. Our reflection is of another kind. It m
pretty clear, that depravity is general, and piety
in the possession of a very few, when persons of
superficial knowledge are praised for the depth of
their understanding, and when such as perform;
very srnalland inconsiderable actions of victue are>
considered as the wonders of the world. Somer
times I hear the world exclaim, What benevolence !
What liberality ! What generosity ! I inquire for
the evidences of these virtues, on which such lavish
encomiums are bestowed j I expect to find another
St. Paul, who wished himself accui^sed for his bre^
threuy Rom. ix. 3. I hope to meet with another
Mo$es, praying to be blotted out of the book of
life rather than see his nation perish, Exod. xxxii.
32. But no, this boasted generosity and charity is
that of a man, who distributed to the poor on one
solemn occasion, once in his life, such a sum of
money as he expends every day in prodigality and
superfluity. It is that of a man, who bestows on
all the members of Jesus Christ almost as much as
he does on the walls of a room, or the harness of a
horse* I hear the world exclaim in some circum-
stances. What friendship ! What tenderness ! I in-
quire for this tender, zealous, generous friend.. I
expect ib find such an original as I have seen de^
scribed in books, though I have never met with
such an one in society. I hope at least to see one.
example of a friend saying to a dying maQ, appoint
me your executor, and leave me.your children to
bring up, and your widow to provide for. But
po, I find nothing but the friendship of a man,
lafho by improving the fortune of anpther attracttv^

SS G.Ej^ERAL MISTAKES.

forgotten^ not a sigh, not an ejaculation hath t^-
caped notice. The iuneral convoys of persons the
most worldly, whose hearts had been the most
hardened in sin, are all uttering orations in praise
of the dead. For our parts, my brethren, we, who
have seen a great number of sick people, and at-
tended many in their dying hours, we freely grant,
that the salvation of many of them is probable.
We have hardly seen one, whose salvation we quite
despair : but how seldom have we been inclined to
say, while we saw such people expire uttering ithe
language of the most eminent saints in scripture,
jLet us die the death of these righteous people^
and let our last end be like theirs ! Numb, xxiii.
10. I will give you a short list of general mistakes
on this subject.

The first mistake is this. Most sick; people are
ingenious to diguise the danger of their illness. Be
not conformed to this world. Whenever a dan-
gerous illness attacks you, be aware of your con-
dition, and let each say to himself I have not long
to live, at least this may be my last illness. My
brethren, this supposition is never unseasonable,
we are in little danger of being deceived by think-
ing death at hand, for the numberless accidents,
to which we are expo$ed, justify the thought. . Is
there any thing extravagant,, pray, in affirming
that sickness added to all these accidents renders
the near approach of death highly probable ?,

The second mistake is this. Most dying peo-
ple put off the regulation of their temporal affairs
too long. Be not conformed to this world. You
should take patterns from better models both for
reasons of affection, and reasons of prudence. True
affection to a family engages a man to preclude in
favor of his heirs such troubles and divisions as are
the inseparable consequences of an undiyjded or

. ■ ■ i-JrAi'jt.1l&U««/>>

GENERAL MISTA09. SQ

perplexed estate. Prudence, too, will foresee, that
while 6ur minds are all occupied about temporal
afFairs, a thousand ideas will intrude to disturb our
devotion. Do not wait till the last moment to set-
tle your afFairs, to make your will, to dispose of
your family, and be not so weak as to imagine that
the discharge of these necessary duties will hastea
. your death. Employ yourselves wholly about the
state of your souls, and let each say to himself
since I have been in the world I have hardly devoted
on6 whole day to devotion : since I have been a
member of the church I have been exercised about
affairs which interest the whole society : but now
that I am come to the end of my life, now I am
passing out of this world, now that I am going
where I shall have no move' portion for ever in any
thing that is done under the sun, disturb me no
more, ye worldly ideas ; ihoxx fashion of this world
passing away, appear no more in my sight : ye
"wild fowls, interrupt my sacrifice no more.

The third mistake is this. Most dying people
delay sending for their ministers till the last mo-
ment. They would have us do violence to the
laws of nature, they set us to exhort trunks, to in-
struct carcases, to prepare skin and bones for eter-
nity. Be not conformed to this world. Why should ^
ye delay ? Is there any thing odious in our minisr
try ? We do not bring death along with us, we do
not hasten its approach : if we denounce the judg-
ments of God against you it is not with a desfga
to terrify you, but to free you from them, and to
pull y OIL out of the , fire, Jude 23.

To these I add a fourth mistake. Most dying
people think it a duty to tell their pastors of excel-,
lent sentiments, which indeed they have not, and
they are afraid to discover their defects. When,
death makes his formidable appearance before

40 GENERAJL MISTAKES.

them, they thiiik religion requires them to say^
they are quite willing to die. We desire, say they,
to depart, when^ alas ! aU their desires are to make
a tabernacle in the world, for it is good, they think,
to be there. They tremble at the coming of Christ,
and yet they cry. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.
Ah ! Be not conformed to this world, open thy
heart that it may be known, discover the maladies
of thy soul, that we may apply such remedies as
are proper. Do not imagine you will acquire such
sentiments and emotions as saints of the first order
had by talking their language : but imbibe their
principles in your mind, and their tempers in your
heart, before you make use of their language.
•' The fifth mistake is this. Most dying people
speak to their ministers only in the presence of a
great number'of attendants; and most attendants
interfere in what ministers say on those occasions.
Be not conformed to this world. Two reasons
may convince you of the necessity of being alohe.
The first tegards the pastor. Surrounding attend-
ants divert his attention from the sick person. The
second regards the sick person himself. Would it'
be just or kiiid to give hiiti directions in public ?
What! would you have us in the presence of di"
husband lay open the intrigues of an immodest
wife, and endeavor to brihg her to repent of her
Jasciviousness by convicting her of her crimes?
Would you have us reprove the bead of a family
for the iniquity that has- disgraced his long life, in
the presen(Jfe of his son ? Would you have us ex-
hort a dying man to make restitution of his ill-got-
ten wealth'in the presence of an hungry heir, who
already gluts his eyes, and satiates bis soul with
hopes of succession ? Were We casuists after the
Roma^ fashion, did we compel consciences to re-
veal s^r^ts 4o *us, which oughi ttt be fcofifessed to

GENERAL MISTAKES. 41

God alone^ did we interfere with your families and
jproperties, there would be some ground for youp
scruples : but while we desire nothing but to ex-
onerate your consciences, and to awaken your
souls tjo a sense of danger before they be plunged
into an abyss of eternal misery, respect our con*
duct, and condescend to submit to our instruction.

To these I add one mistake more. Most dying
people trust too much to their ministers, and
take too little pains themselves to form such dis-
positions as a dying bed requires. Be not conform*
ed to this world. It is not enough to have external
help to die well, we ourselves must concur in this
great work, we must by profound meditation, by
frequent reflections and by fervent prayers support
ourselves under this last attack, and thus put the
last hand to the work of our salvation. It is true,
the infirmities of your bodies will affect your minds,
and will often interrupt your religious exercises ;
but no matter, God doth not require of a dy-
ing person connected meditations, accurate reflec-
tions, precise and formal prayers, for one sigh,
one tear, one ejaculation of your soul to God, one
serious wish rising from the bottom of your heart
will be highly esteemed by the Lord,, and will
draw down new favors upon you.

To conclude. The multitude is a bad guide in
regard to faith, in regard to manners, and in re-
gard to departing ou^t of this life. A man who de-
sires to be saved, should be always upon his guard
lest he should be rolled down the torrent : he ought
to compile in his closet, or rather in his conscience^
a religion apart, such as is, .not that of the chil-
dren of the world, but that of the disciples of wis-
dom. Be not conformed to this world.

I finish two reflections. I address the first to
those, who derive from this discourse no cpnse^

VOL. V. F

42- GKKERAJL MISTAKES*

quences to direct their actions : and the second to
such as refer it to its true design.

First. I address myself to you who do not draw
any consequences from this discourse to regulate
your actionsr. You have seen a portrait of the
multitude. I suppose you acknowledge the like-
ness, and acquiesce in the judgment we have made.
It seemsj too many proofs and demonstrations es-
tablish this proposition, the multitude is a bad
guide. Now you may follow which example you
please. You may make your choice between the
diaxims of Jesus Christ and the maxims of the
, world. But we have a right to require one thing
of you, which you cannot refuse us without injus-
tice, that'is, that granting the genius of the mul-
titude, when you are told you are destroying your-
selves, you do not pretend to have refiitfed us by
replying, we conduct ourselves as the world does,
and every body does what you condemn in us.
Thanks be to God, your proposition is not strict^
true ! Thanks be to God, the rule hath some ex-
ceptions ! There are many regenerate souls, hid-
den perhaps from the eyes of men, but visible to
God. There are even some saints, who shine in
the sight of the whole world, and who, to use the
expression of Jesus Christ, are a city set on a hill^
Matt. V. 14. What then, you never cast your
eyes on the most illustrious objects in this world !
Do you reckon for nothing what alone merits ob*
servation in society," and what constitutes the true
glory of it ? Have you no value for men for whose
sake the world subsists, and society is preserved ?

However, your proposition is indisputable in a
general sense, and we are obliged to allow it, for
our whole discourse tends to elucidate and establish
the point. Allege this proposition, but do not al-
lege it for the purpose of opposing the censures

'.. ^.■■»a'...\^!i.'.«i-

GEMCJLAL MISTAKES. 45

you have heard, or of getting rid of our reproofs,
fiy answering in this manner you give us. an ad-* «
vantage over you, you lay a foundation which you
mean to destroy, you do not furnish yourselvea
with a shield against your ministers, but you your-
selves supply them with arms to wound and destroy
you. Why do we declaim against your conduct ?
What do we mean wheu we reprove your way of liv*-
ing, except to convince you that itis not answerable
to the christian character which you bear ? What
do we mean except that you 'break the vows made
fi>r you in your baptism, and which you yourselves
have often ratified at the Lord's table ? What, in
one word, except that you do not obey the laws of
the gospel ? But what can you advance more pro*
per to strengthen the testimony which we bear
against you than that, which you advance to weak*
en it, that is, that you live as the world lives.

All the world, ^ say you, conduct themselves as
we do, and every body does what you censure us
for doing. But all the world conduct themselves
badly, all the world violate thp spirit of religion^
all the world attack tlie maxims of Jesus Christ,
all the world run in the broad road of perdition,
all the world are destroying themselves, and the
apostle exhorts us not to take the world for an
example.

Secondly. I address myself to you, who sin*
cerely desire to apply this discourse to its true de-
sign. I grant, the road opened to you is difficult.
To resist the tonrent, to 4>rave the multitude, to see
one's self like Elijali, alone on the Lord's side,
^nd, in this general apostacy^ in which a christian
so often finds himself, when he desires to sacrifice
all to his duty, to recollect motives of attachment
to it, this is one of the noblest efforts of christian
heroism.

44 osufikM.

. However, after all, it would argue great puerility
to magnify our ideas of the crowd, the many, the
multitude ; it would be childish to be too much
$tmck with these ideas, every body thinks, in this
manner, all the world acts thus. I affirm, that
t|^th and virtue have more partizans than error
and vice, and God hath more disciples than satan.
What do you csil the crowd, the many, the multi-^
tude ? What do you mean by all the world ? What !
You and your companions, your family, your ac-
quaintances, your fellow citizens, the inhabitants
x>f this globe, to which the Creator hath confined
you ; is this what you call all the world ? What
littleness of ideas? Cast your eyes on that little
knole hill, occupied by a few thousand of ants, lend
them intelligence, propose to one of these insects
'Other maxims than those of his fellows, exhort him
to have a little more ambition than to occupy a
tiny imperceptible space upon that mole bill, ani-
mate him to form projects more noble than that of
'Collecting a few grains of com, and then put into
-the mouth of this little emmet the same pretext
that you mfd^e use of to us ; I shall be alone, all
the world conduct themselves in another manner.
WoUj^ you not pity this insect ? Would not he ap-
.pear more contemptible to you for his mean and
^spiritless ideas than for the diminutiveness of his
body i Would you hot look with disdain on an ant,
that had no other ambition than that of taking &r
^ a model other insects about him, and preferring
their approbation before that of mankind^ who hold
a rank so high in the scale of the world ? My bre-
thren, give what colors youVill to this imagtnatiovi,
it is however certain, that you would form unjust
ideas of this insect. An emmet hath no relation
.to those beii^gs,^ whidi you propose to him for riio-
del^. Such ideas of happiness as you trace to him

bave no proportion to his faculties. Is an temmet
capable of science to be allured by the company oi
the learned ? Can an ant ibrm plans of sieges and
battles to render himself sensible of that gloryi
which exploits of war acquire, and for which tbs
heroes of the world sacrifice their repose aad their
livea? .;

~ . It is you, who have that meanness of soul^ wlii<^
you just now pitied'in an ant; You inhabit citict
and provinces, which compared with the rest of
the world resemble the size of mole hills, the whole
globe itself is nothing in comparison of the i}»
mense spaces, in which other works of the Creator
are lodged. You creep onearth^with a handful ojf
men much less in comparison with .the thousand
thousands of other intelligences than an ant hiU if
in comparison of mankind. You have intimate
relations to these intelligences ; you like them are
capable of great and noble functions ; like them
you are capable of knowledge 5 like them you am
able to know the Supreme Being 5 you can ]ov6
like them ; you can form tender and delicate c<hi<»
sections as they can; and like them you are des-
tined to eternal duration and felicity.

Do not say then, I shall be alone, nobody lives
as you would have me live. They are the meii^
who surround you that oxe nobody in comparison
of the intelligences, whom I propose to you for
examples. It ill suits insignificant men to consi-
der themselves alone as in the centre of divine be*
'. nevolence, smd as the only subjects of a monarch,
who reigneth over all existence. He sitteth upon
the circle of the earth, whence the inhabitants
appear to him as grasshoppers. He bringetk
princes to nothing, he cojisidereth the judges qf
the earth as vanity. He shall blow upon them and

V

46 GENERAL MISTAKES.

they shall mther^ and the whirlwind shall take
them away like stubble, Isa. xl. 22.

But ye, celestial intelligences, seraphims burn-
ing with love> angels mighty in strength, messen^-
gers of the divine will, spirits rapid as the wind,
and penetrating as fire, ye redeemed of all na^
'tions, all kindred, all people, all tongues. Rev.
r. 9. ye make the crowd, ye fill the coutt of the so-
vereign of the world ; and, when lye refuse to con*
form ourselves to this world, we imitate you; and
when the slaves of th^ world shall be loaded with
chains of darkness, we shall share with you the river
pf pleasures at the right hand of that God whorn^
|rou serve, and to whose service we like you devote
ourselves. God grant us this grace ! To him be
boaor and glory for evar. Amen.

( /

«

SERMON III.

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIET^.
1 TiMOTHT, ir. 18.

G^dlmus is froJUoibk unto ali tbuigtf having frmniie of tie SJk.
that now iii and of that wbicb is to corns*

THERE never was a disposition more odioua^
or more unjust than that of the profane Jews^
of whom Jeremiah speaks in the forty-fourth cbap-^
ter of his prophecies. He had addressed to them
the most pressing and pathetical exhortations to
dissuade them from worshipping the goddess Isis,
and to divert them from the infamous debaucheries,,
with which the Egyptians accompanied it. Their
reply was in these words. As for the word, that
thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the Lord^
we will not hearken unto thee : but we will cer*
tainly do whatsoever thing goeth forth out of our
own mouthy to burn incense Unto the queen of hea^
ve7iy and to pour out drink offerings unto her, as,
toe have done, we and our fathers, our kings and
pur princes, in the cities of Judah, and in the
streets of Jerusalem, for then had we plenty of
victuals, and were well and saw no evil: but since
we left off to burn incense to the queen of heaven,
and to pour out drink offerings unto her, we have
wanted all things, and have been consumed by the

4S THE ADVANTAGES OF PISTY.

sword, and hy the famine^ ver 16 — 18. Nothing
can equal the sacrifices^ which religion requires of
U5 ; therefore nothing ought to equal the recom-*
pence, which it sets before us. Sometimes it re-
quires us like the father of the faithful to quit our
country and our relations and to go out^ not know-
ing whither we go, according to the expression of
St. Paul, Heb. xi. 8. Sometimes it requires us to
tread in the bloody steps of those who had trial of
cruel viockings and scourgings, yea of bonds and
imprisonment. Some zvere stoned^ others zvere
sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain zvith the
sword, wandered about in sheep skins, and goal
skins^ being destitute, afflicted, tormented, ver.
36, 37. Always it calls us to triumph over our
pstssions, to renounce our own senses, to mortify
the 'flesh with^ its desires, and to bring all the
thoughts of our minds, and all the emotions of our
hearts into obedience to Jesus Christ. To ani-
mate us to sacrifices so great, it is necessary we
dhould find in religion a superiority of happiness
tod reward, and it would be to rob it of all its dis-
ciples to represent it as fatal to the interests of such
as pursue it.

As this disposition is odious, so it is unjust. The
itiiserable Jews, of whom the prophet Jeremiah
iSpeaks, did indeed consult the prophets of God,
but they would not obey their voice; they would
sometimes suspend their idolatrous rites, but they
would never entirely renounce them ; they disco-
vered some zeal for the exterior of religion, but
they paid no attention to the spirit and substance of
it, and as God refused to grant to this outside of
piety such advantages as he had promised to the
truly godly, they complained that the true religion
Bad berin to them a source of misery.

Were they the Jews of the prophets time ? Arc

tm ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. ^9

ihey only Jews, who make such a criminal 'com*
plaint ? Are they the only persons, who, plac-
ing religion in certain exterior performances, arid
mutilated virtues, complain that they do not feel
that peace of conscience, those ineffable trans-
ports, that anticipated heaven, which are foretastes
and earnests of eternal joy ? We are going to-day,
my brethren, to set before you the treasures whichi
God opens to us in communion with him : but we
are going at the same time to tface out the charao*
ter of those. On whom they are bestowed. ' This i$
the design of this discourse, and for this purpose
we win divide it into two parts ; First, We will ex-
amine' what the apostle means by godliness in tfei^
words of the' text: And secondly. We will point
out the advantages affixed to it. Godliness is.p^o^
, fit able unto all things^ having promise of the life
that now is y and of that which is to come.

9
* ■ - <

: L What is godliness or piety? It is djillcult to
include an adequate idea of it in the bounds of what'
is called a definition. Piety is a habit of knowr
ledge in the mind — rectitude in the conscience— ^
sacrifice in the life — and zeal in the heart.. ^ By the
loiowledge, that guides it, it lis distinguished from,
the visions of the superstitious ; by the rectitude,'
from whence it proceeds, it is distinguished from
hypocrisv ; by the sacrifice, which justifies it, it isi
distinguished from the unmeaning obedience bf
him, who goes as a happy constitution leads himyiii
fine, by the fervor, that animates it, it is distinguish-
ed from the languishing etnotibris of the luke-w.anri.
1. Piety supposes A:wor£;/erf^<? in the mind. When
God reveals a doctrine of religiori to us, he treats
OS as reasonable beings, capable of examination
and reflection. He doth not require us to admit
any truth without evidence. If he would have us

VOL. v. «

50 TI^E ADVANTAGES OF PIETY.

believe the exis^tence of a first cai^se, he engraves
it oa every particle of the universe. If he would
have us believe the divinity of revelation, he makes
some character of that divinity shine in every part
of it. Would he have ys believe the immortality
of the soul, he attests it in every page of the sa*
cred book. Accordingly, without previous know-
ledge, piety can neither support us under tempta*
tions, nor enable us to render to God such homage
as is worthy of him.

It cannot support us in temptation. When sa«
tan endeavors- to seduce us, he offers us the allure*
ments of present and sensible good^ and exposes
in our sight the kingdoms of the world and the
glory of them. If we have nothing to oppose
against him but superficisU opinions of a precarious
and ignorant system, we shall not find ourselves in
a condition to withstand him.

Nor can piety destitute of knowledge enable us
to render to God such worship as is worthy of him;
for when do we render to God worship suitable to
his majesty .^'is it when, submitting to the church,
and saying to a man, in the language of scripture.
Rabbi, Rabbi, we place him on a sovereign throne,
and make our reason fall prostrate before his intel-
ligence P No certainly ; It is when, submitting our-*
selves to the decisions of God, we regard him. as
the source of truth and knowledge, and believe on
his testimony doctrines the most abstruse and mys-
teries the most sublime.

True piety is wise, it rises out of those profound
reflections, which the godly man makes on the ex-
cellence of religion. Open thou mine eyes said the
prophet formerly, that I may behold wondrous
things out of thy law. I have more understand-
ing than all my teachers, for thy testimonies are
my meditation. Thy words are as a lamp unt^

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY 61

mif fetty and a light unto my path. Mine eye^
prevent the night watches, that I jnight meditate
in thy wordy Psalm cxix. 18, 99, 105, 148.

This is the first character of godliness, and thi£^
character distinguisheth it from superstion. A su«^
perstitious man doth not derive his principles fronv
the source of knowledge. ^A family tradition, a
tale, a legend, a monkish fable, the reverie of a
confessor, the decision of a council, this is his.
law, this is his light, this is his gospel.

2. Piety must be sincere, and this distinguisheth
it from hypocrisy. A hypocrite puts on all the ap-^
pearance of religion^ and adorns himself with the
most sacred part of it. Observe his deportment,
it is an affected i^avity, which nothing can alter.
Hear his conversation, he talks with a studied in-
dustry on the most solenm subjects, he is full of
sententious sayings, and pious maxims, and so
severe that he is ready to take offence at the most
innocent actions. Mind his dress, it is precise and
singular, and a sort of sanctity is affected in all hiii
furniture, and in all his equipage. Follow him to
a place of worship^ there particularly his hypocrisy
erects its tribunal, and there he displays his relw
gion in all its pomp. There he $eems mor^ assi-
duous than the most wise and zealous christians;
There he lifts up his eyes to heaven. There he sighs;
There he bedews the earth with his tears. In one
word^ whatever seems venerable in the church he
takes pains to practise, and pleasure to display.

J^esus Christ hath given us the original of this
portrait in the persons of the pharisees of his time,
and the only inconvenience we find in describing
such characters is, that, speak where we will, it
seems as if we intended to depict such individur
als of the present age as seem to have taken these
ancient hypocrites for their model. Never was

58- THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY.

the art of counterfeiting piety carried to such per-
fection by any men as by the old pharisees. They
separated themselves from a commerce with man-
kind, whom they called in contempt people of the
m>rld. They made long prayers. They fasted
every Monday and Friday. They lay on planks
and stones. They put thorns on the bottom of
their gowns to tear their flesh. They wore strait
^rdles about their bodies. They paid tithes, not^
only according to law, but beyond what the law re-
quired. Above all they were great makers of pro-
selytes, and this was in some sort their distinguish-
ing character, and when they had made one, they-
never failed to instruct him thoroughly to hate all
sqch as were not of their opinion on particular
questions. All this was «hew, all this proceeded
jftom a deep hypocrisy ; by all this they had no
other design than to acquire reputation for holiness,
and to make themselves masters of the people,
who are more easily taken with exterior appear:
ances than with solid virtue.

Such is the character of hypocrisy, a character
that God detests. How often does Jesus Christ
denounce anathemas against people of this cha-
racter? How often does he cry concerning them,
woe, woe? Sincerity is one character of true piety,
O Lordi thou hast proved my hearty thou hast
visited me in the night, thou hast tried me, and
shall, find nothing : I am purposed that my mouth
shall not transgress. Lord thou knowest all things i
thou knowest that J love thee. * Psal. xvii. 3. John
xjci. 17. This character makes our love to God
re^mble his to us. When God gives himself to
us. in religion, it is not in mere appearances and
protestations : but it is with real sentiments, ema-
nations of heart.
. 3. Piety supposes ^acri/fcr, and by thiswedis-

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. 6$

tinguii^ it from a devotion of humor and constitu-
tion, with which it hath been too often confounded.
There is a devotee of temper and habit, who, real^
ly, hath a happy disposition, but which may be
attended . with dangerous consequences. Such a
man. consults less the law of God to regulate his
conduct than his own inclinations, and the nature
of his constitution. As, by a singular favor of
heaven, he hath not received one of those irregular
constitutions, which most men have, but a happy
natural disposition, improved too by a good educa*
tion, he£nds in himself but little indisposition to the
general maxims of Christianity. Being naturally
melancholy, he doth not breaJk out into unbridled
mirth, and excessive pleasures. As he is naturally
collected in himself, and not communicative, he
doth not follow the crowd through the turbulence
and tumult of the world. As he is naturally inac-
tive, and soon disgusted with labor and pains tak-
ing, we never see him animated with the madness
of gadding about every where, weighing himself
down with a multitude of business, nor permitting
any thing to happen in society without being him-
self the first mover, and putting to it the last hand.
These are all happy incidents ; not to run into eX'^
cessive pleasure, not to . follow the crowd in the
noise and tumult of the world, not to run mad
with hurry and weary himself with an infinity of
business, to give up the mind to recollection, all
this is worthy of praise : but what is a devotion of
this kind, that owes its birth only to incidents of
this sort ? I compare it to the faith of the man,
who believes the truths of the gospel only through
a headstrong prejudice, only because, by a lucky
chanccy he had a father or a tutor, who believed
them. As such a man cannot have a faith accepta-^
ble to God, so neither can he, whO;, obeys the laws

^4 THE ADVANTAGES OP PIETY.

of God^ because, by a sort of diance of this kiad^
thejr are conformable to his natural temper, offer to
him the sacrifice of true obedience. Had you been
naturally inclined to dissipation, you would have
been excessively dissipated, for the veiy same rea*
' son that you are now excessively fond of retire-
ment. Had you been naturally industrious, you
would have e;Kceeded in laboring, on the very prin*
ciple, which now inclines you to be fond of ease
and stillness. Had you been naturally inclined to
mirth, you would have shewn excessive levity, on
the very principle, that now turns your gravity into
gloom and melancholy. Would you know your-
selves ? See, examine yourselves. You say, your
piety inclines you to surmount all temptations to
dissipation : but does it enable you to resist those
to retirement ? It makes you firm against tempta-
tions to pleasure, but does it free you from suUen-
ness ? It enables you to surmount temptations to
violent exertions, but does it raise you above lit-
tleness ? The same may be said of the rest. Happy
he, who arranges his actions with a special regard
to his own heart, inquiring what he can find there
opposite to the law of God, attacking the strong
holds of satan within himself, and directing all his
fire and force to that point. They that are Christ* s
have crucified the fleshy with the affections and
lusts. I beseech you therefore^ brethren^ by the
mercies of Gody that ye present your bodies a liv-
ing sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is
your reasonable service. Sacrifice and offering
thou dost not desire, mine ears hast thou opened.
Lo, I come. I delight to do \hy will, O my Godj
yea^ thy iazo is within my heart. Gal. v.^ S4. Rom.
xii. 1. Psal. xl. 7, &c.

4. Zeal and fervor are the last characters of
piety. J3^^ the godly man from such

THB APVA1ITA0ES OP FtETY. 55

luke-wdrm christians as practise the duties of relt«
gion in substance, but do so with a coldness, that
sinks the value of the service. They can hear the
afflictions of the church narrated without emo-
tions and see a confused heap of stones, sad re-
mains of houses consecrated to our God, without
favoring the dust thereof 9 according to the expres-
sion of the scripture. They can see the dimen-
sions of the love of God measured, the. breadth ^
and length, .and depths and height^ without feel-
ing the last warmth from the ardor and flame of so
vehement a love. They can be present at the of-
fering of one of those lively, tender, fervent pray-
ers, which God Almighty himself condescends to
hear and answer, and for the sake of which he for-
gives crimes and averts judgment, without enter-:
ing at all into the spirit of these subjects. Such
men as these require persuasion, compulsion and
power to force them.

A man, who truly loves God, hath sentiments
of zeal and fervor. Observe David, see his joy
before the ark : neither the royal grandeur, nor the
prophetical gravity, nor the gazing of the populace,
nor the reproaches of an interested wife, could
cool his zeal. Observe Elijah, / have been, said
he, very jealous for the Lord God of hosts : for
the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant,
thrown down thine alters, and slain thy prophets
with the sword, and I even I only am left, and
they seek my life to take it away, 1. Kings xix. 10,
Behold good Eli, the frost of fourscore could not
chill the ardor that inflamed him. What is there
done, my son ? said he to the unwelcome messen-
ger, who came to inform him of the defeat of his
army, the messenger replied, Israel is fled before
the Philistines, and there hath also been a great
slaughter among the people, and thy two sons also.

56 TH£ ADVANTAGES OP PIETY.

Hophni and Phinehas are dead : Thus for he uap^
ported himself : But when the man went on to say.
The ark of God is taken^ instantly, on hearing that
the ark was gone, he fell backwardj he could not
survive the loss of that august symbol of the di-
vine presence, but died with grief. Observe Ne-
hemiah, to whom his royal master put the question.
Why is thy countenance sad ? said he. Why should
not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place
of my father^s sepulchres lieth waste, and the
gates thereof are consumed with fire ? chap. ii.
S, &c. Consider St. Paul, JFIp glory in tribula-
tions, because the love of God is shed abroad in
our hearts, by the Holy Ghost zvhich is given unto
us, Roiri. V. 3, 5. •

Do you imagine you truly love God, while you
have only languid emotions toward him, and while
you reserve all your activity and fire for the world.
There is between God arid a believer a tender and
affectionate intercourse. Godliness hath its festi-
vals and exuberances. Flesh and blood ! Ye, that
cannot inherit the kingdom oj God, 1 Cor. xv. 50.
ye impure ideas of concupiscence, depart, be gone
far away from our imaginations ! There is a time,
hi which the mystical spouse faints, and utter$
such exclainations as these, / sleep, but my heart
ivaketh. Sel me as a seal upon thy heart, as a
i? seal upon thine arm, for love is strong as death,
jealousy is cruel as the grave, the coals thereof
are coals of fire, zvhich hath a most vehement
flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither
can floods drown it. Cant. v. 2.

These are some characters of piety. Let us go
6h to examine' the advantages of it.

II. Our.apostie says godliness is profitable unto
aWthings,'hdvtiiig promise of the l{fe that now is.

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. >57

and of that which is to come. There isaq enor-
moiis difference between these two sorts of blesr
sings. The blessings of the life to come are so far
superior to the blessing of the present life, that
when we can assure ourselves of the first, we ought
to give ourselves very little concern about the last*
To add one little drop of water to the boundless
Ocean, and to add a temporal blessing to the im-
mense felicities, wh\ch happy spirits enjoy in the
other life, is almost the same thing. St. Paul tells
us, that the idea of the life to come so absorbs the
idea of the present life, that to consider these two
objects in this point of view, his eyes could hardly
get sight of the one, it was so very diminutive, and
his mind reckoned the whole as nothing : Our light
affliction^ which is but for a moment, workethfor
tis a far more exceeding and eternal weight of
glory, while we look not at the things which are
seen, which are temporal, but at the things which
are not seen, which are eternal, 2 Cor. iv. 17. 18.

Few imitate this apostle. The present, because
itispre^nt, and in spite of its rapidity, fixes our
eyes, becomes a wall between us and eternity, and
prevents our perceiving it. We should make many
more converts to virtue, could we prove that it
would render mankind happy here below, but we
cannot change the order of things. Jesus Christ and
his apostles have told us, that in the world we shall
have tribulation and that all, that will live godly
in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution, John xvi.
33. 2 Tim. iii. 12. However it is true, that even
here piety procures pleasures, which usually surpass
all those of worldly people : at least, which are suf-
ficient to support us in a road leading to eternal
happiness.

1 . Consider first how piety infiuences our health.
Our bodies decay, \ allow^ by numberless means.

VOL. V. H

^8 THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY.

Death enters them by the air we breathe, and by
the elements that support them, and whatever con-
tributes to make them live contributes at the same
time to make them die. Let us allow, my bre*
thren, that most maladies take their rise in such ex-
cesses as the law of God condemns. How can a
man devoured with ambition, avarice and ven-
geance, a man whose passions keep him in perpe-
tual agitations, depriving him of peace, and rob-
bing him of sleep : how can he, who passes whole
nights and days in gaming, animated with the de-
sire of gaining the money of his neighbor, tortur-
ed by turns with the hope of a fortune, and the
fear of a bankruptcy : how can he, who drowns
hiniself in wine, or overcharges himself with glut-
tony : how can he, who abandons himself without
a curb to excessive lewdness, and who makes every
thing serve his voluptuousness : how is it possible
for people of these kinds to expect a firm and last-
ing health. Godliness is a bar to all these disor-
ders, the fear of the Lord prolongeth days : it is
a fountain of Itfe to guard us from the snares of
death, Prov. x. 27- and jcii. 27. If then it be true
that health is an invaluable treasure, if it be that,
which ought to hold the first rank among the bles-
sings of life, if without it all others are of no va-
lue, it is as certain that without love to the law of
God we cannot enjoy much pleasure in life.

The force of this reflection is certainly very little
felt in the days of youth and vigor, for then we
usually consider these as eternal advantages, which
nothing can alter : but when old age comes, when
by continual languors, and by exquisite pains,
men expiate the disorders of an irregular life, then
that fear of God is respected, which teaches us to
prevent them. Ye liaartyrs of concupiscence, ye
victims of vcJw^WMfBeaBi yeu^ who formerly tast-

I." • ^

.. ' . .'o.

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. 59

ed the pleasures of sid, and are now thoroughly
feeling the horrors of it, and who in consequence
of your excesses are already given up to an antici-
pated helK do you serve us for demonstration, and
example. You are become knowing by experience,
now teach our youth how beneficial it is to lead a
regular life in their first years, and as your intem-
peraiice has offended the church, let the pains you
endure serve to restrain such as are weak enough to
imitate your bad examples. Those trembling
hands, that shaking head, those disjointed knees,
that extinguished resolution, that feeble memory,
that worn out brain, that body all infection and
putrefaction, these are the dreadful rewards, which
the devil bestows on those, on whom he is prepar-
ing himself shortly to exercise all his fiiry and rage;
On this article then, instead of saying with the
profane, what profit is it to keep the ordinances of
God, and to walk mournfully before the Lord of
hosts? Mai. ii. 14. We ought to say with St.
Paul, What fruit had ye then in those things,
whereof ye are now ashamed? For the end of
those things is death, Rom. vi, 21.

2. Consider next how piety influences our repu^
tation. I am aware, that worldly men by decry-
ing piety endeavor to avenge themselves for the
want of courage to practise it. I am aware, too>
that practise wickedness as much, as often, and as
far as ever we can, we shall always find ourselves
in a circle of companions like ourselves^ But after
ftU^ it is however indisputable, that good people
usually sicquire the respect of such as have not the
laudable ambition of imitating them. I appeal only
to your own conscience. Is it not true, that, even
whtte you are gratifying your own passions, yoii
cannot help admiring such as subdue theirs ? Is it
not true, that, except on some occaisions, in which

60 THE ADVAKTAGIS OF PIETY.

you wants and therefore seek accomplices in sin^
you would rather choose to form connections, to
make bargains, and to deal with such as obey the
laws of God, than with those that violate them ?
And amidst all the hatred and envy, which your ir-
regularities excite against good people, is it not
true, that your heart feels more veneration for wise,
upright and pious people than for others, who
have opposite qualities ? As these are, your dispo-
sitions toward others, know of a truth, they are
also dispositions of others toward you. Here it is,
that most men are objects of great pity. The irre-
gularities, which seem to conduct us to the end we
propose, are often the very causes of our disap-
pointment. May I not address one of you thus ?
You trample upon all laws human and divine ; you
build up a fortunate house with the substance of
widowsf and orphans^ and oppressed people, and
you cement it with their blood; you sell your
votes ; you defraud the state ; you deceive your
friends ; you betray your correspondents, and after
you have enriched yourself by such ways you set
forth in a most pompous manner your riches, your
elegant furniture, your magnificent palaces, your
superb equipages, and you think the public take
you for a person of great consideration, and that
every one is erecting in his heart an altar to yoiir
fortune. No such thing. You deceive yourself.
Every one says in private, and some blunt people
say to your face, you are a knave, you are a pub-
lic blood sucker, and all your magnificence displays
nothing but your crimes. May I not say to ano-
ther. You affect to mount above your station by
arrogant language, and mighty assumptions. You
deck yourself with titles, and adorn yourself with
names unknown to your ancestors; You put on a
supercilious deportment, that iU ,«mrtt: vith^tfae

1

■..■.-i."^« -I #

THE ADVAHTAGBS OF PIETY. 6l

dust which covered you the other day, and you
think by these means to eiBface the remembrance of
your origin* No such thing. You deceive your-
self. Every one takes pleasure in shewing you
some of your former rags to mortify your pride,
and they say to one another, he is a mean genius,
he is a fool, he resembles distracted men, who hav-
ing persuaded themselves that they are princes,
kings, emperors, call their cottage a palace, their
stick a sceptre, and their domestics courtiers. May
I not speak thus to a third. You are intoxicated
with your own splendor, and fascinated with your
own charms, you aspire at nothing less than to
make all mankind your worshippers, offering in-
cense to the idol you yourself adore, with this view
you break through the bounds of law, and the de-
cency of your sex ; your dress is vain and immo-
dest, your conversation is loose, your deportment
is indecent, and you think the world take you for a
sort of goddess. No such thing. You deceive
yourself. People say you have put off christian
modesty, and faid aside even worldly decency,
and as they judge of your private life by your pub-
lic deportment, how can they think otherwise?
Fathers forbid their sons to keep your company,
and mothers exhort their daughters to avoid your
bad example.

S. Observe how godliness influences our fortuney
by procuring us the confidence of other men, and
above all by acquiring the blessing of God on our
designs and undertakings. You are sometimes
astonished at the alarming changes that happen in
society; you are surprized to see some fatnilies de-
cay, and others fall into absolute ruin. You can-
not comprehend why some people, who held the
other day the highest places in society, are now
j&lihigfrom that pinnacle of grandeur, and involved

G^i THB ADVANTAGES OF PIBtT.

ia the deepest distress. Why this astonishment ?
There is a providence, and though God often
bides himself, though the ways of his providence
are usually impenetrable, though it would be an
unjust way of reasoning to say such a person is
wealthy therefore he is holy, such a one is indigent
therefore he is wicked, yet the Lord sometimes
<;x>mes out of that darkness, in which he usually
conceab himself, and raises a saint out ^f obscu*
rity into a state of wealth and honor.

4. Consider what an influence godliness hath in
our happiness by calming our passions, and by set^
ting bounds to our desires. Our faculties sure finite :
but our desires are boundless. From this, dtspro*
portion between our desires and our faculties a
thousand conflicts arise, which distress and destroy
the soul. Observe the labor of an ambitious man,
he is obliged to sacrifice to his prince his ease, his
liberty and his life; he must appear to applaud
what he inwardly condemns ; and he must adjust
all his opinions and sentiments by the ideas of bis
master. See what toils worldly honor imposes on
its votaries, a worldling must revenge an affront
after he hath pardoned it, and to that he must ex-
pose his establi^ment and his fortune, he must
run the risk of being obliged either to quit his coun-
try, or to suffer such punishment as the law inflicts
on those, who take that sword into their own hands,
which God hath put into the hand of the magis-
trate, he must stab the person he loves, the person
who loves him, and who offended him more through
inadvertance than animosity : he must stifle all the
suggestions, which conscience urges against a man,
w1k> ventures his salvation on the precarious suc-
cess of a duel, and who by so doing braves all the
horrors of hell. Above all, what is the condition
of a heart, with what cruel alternafciim is it rucked

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY 68

and torrty when it is occupied by two passions,
which oppose and counteract each other. Take
ambition and avarice for an example ; for, my bre-
thren, the heart of man is sometimes the seat of
two opposite tyrants, each of whom hath views
and interests different from the other. Avarice
says keep, ambition says give, avarice says hold
&st, ambition says give up. Avarice says retire,
ambition says go abroad. Ambition combats ava*
rice, avarice combats ambition, each by turns dis-
tresses the heart, and if it groans under tyranny,
whether avarice or ambition be the tyrant is indif-
ferenL The pleasure of seeing one passion reign
is always poisoned by the pain of seeing the other
subdued. They resemble that woman, whose
twin children struggled together within her^ and
who said during the painful sensations, if it must
be soy why was /a mother ?

Piety prevents these fatal effects, it maketh us
eontent with the condition, in which providence
hath placed us : it doth more, it teacheth us to be
happy in any condition, how mean soever it may
be. / have learned in whatsoever state I am,
therewith to be content : I know both how 4o be
abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere
and in all things I am instructed, both to be full
and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer
need, Phil. iv. 11, 12.

5. Consider the peace, which piety diffuseth in
the conscience. The prosperity of those, who de-
sire to- free themselves from conscience, is such as
to make them miserable in the ipidst of their great-
est success. What pleasure can a man enjoy, who
cannot bear to be one moment alone ; a man, who
needs perpetual dissipation to hide from himself
his real condition ; a man, who cannot reflect up-
on the past without remorse, think of the present

64 THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY.

without confusion, or the future without despair -,
a man who carries within himself that obstinate
reprover, on whom he cannot impose silence ; a
man, who already feels the worm that dieth not
gnawing him ; a man, who sees in the midst of his
most jovial festivals the writing of a mans* hand,
which he cannot read, but which his conscience
most faithfully and terribly interprets ^ I ask what
pleasure can such a man enjoy ?

Godliness not only frees us from these torments^
but it communicates joy into every part of the pi-
ous man's, life. If the believer be in prosperity,
he considers it as an effect of the goodness of God,
the governor of this universe, and as a pledge of
blessings reserved for him in another world. If he
be in adversity, indeed he considers it as a diastise-
ment coming from the hand of a wise and tender
parent : and the same may be said of every other
condition.

6. In fine consider how piety influences the hap*
piness of life, by the assurance it gives us of a safe,
if not a comfortable death. There is not a single
moment in life, in which it is not possible we
should die, consequently there is not one instant^
that may not be unhappy, if we be not in a condi-
tion to die well. While we are destitute of this
assurance, we live in perpetual trouble and agita*
tion, we see the sick, we meet funeral processions,
we attend the dying, and all these different objects
become motives of horror and pain. It is only
when we are prepared to die well, that we bid de-
fiance to winds and waves, fires and shipwrecks,
and that, by opposing to all these perilous casual-
ties the hope of a happy death, we every where
experience the joy, with which it inspires such as
wait for it.

Collect all these articjies, and,.unite all t:b|^&

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. 05

ad?antagesi in one. I ask now, is it an improbable
proposition, that virtue hath a reward in itself, suf-
ficient to indemnify us for all we suffer on account
of it, so that though there were nothing to expect
afiter this life, yet it would be a problem, whether it
would not be better all thinj^s considered, to prac-
tise godliness than to live in sin.

-But this is not the consequence we mean to draw
from our principles. We do not intend to make this
use of bur observations. We will not dispute with the
sinner whether he finds pleasure in the practice of
sin, but as he assures us, that it gives him more plea*
sure to gratify his passions than to subdue them,
we will neither denv the fact, nor find fault with
his taste, but allow that he must know better than
any body what gives himself most pleasure. We
only derive this consequence from all we have been
hearing, that the advantages, which accompany
godliness, are suiSicient to support us in a course
of action, that leads to eternal felicity. .

This eternal felicity the apostle had chiefly in
view, and on this we would fix your attention in
the close of this discourse. Godliness hath promise "
oj the life that nowis, is^ proposition, we think,
plain and clear : but however it is disputable, you
say, subject to many exceptions, and liable to a
great number of difficulties: but godliness hath
promise of the life that is to come, is a proposition
which cannot be disputed, it is free fi'om all difficul- .
ty^ and can admit of no exception. . .

Having taken up nearly all the time allotted to
this exercise, I will finish with one reflection. Pror
mise of the life to come, annexed to godliness, is
not a mere promise, it puts even in this life the pi-
ous man in possession of one part. of the benefits^
the perfect possession of which he lives in hope of

Follow him in four periods— '•First in

%
\

66 THB ADVANTAGES OF IPIETY.

society-'-Next in the dioiiet-^Theii in a participa^
tion of holy orclinances — ^And lastly, at the ap-
proach of death : you will find him participating
the eternal felicity/ which is the object of his hope.

In society. What is the life of a man, who ne-
ver goes into the company t^ his fellow creatures
without doing them good : of a man who after the
example of Jesus Christ goes about doing good : a
man, who every where shews the light of a good
example, who efideavors to win all hearts to God^
who never ceases to publish his perfections, and to
celebrate his praise, what, I ask, is the life of such
a man ? It is an angelical life, it il^ a heavenly life, it
is an anticipation of that life, which happy spirits
live in heaven, it is a foretaste, and prelibation of
those pleasures, whic^ are at the right hand tf
Godj «nd of that fulness of joy, which is found in
contemi^ating his majesty.

Follow the pious man into the silent closets
There he recollects, concenters himself, amd loses
himself m God. Ther^, in the rich source of re-
ligion, he quenches the thirst of knowing, elevat-
ing, perpetuating and extending Inmself, which
burns within him, and there be feels hovir God, the
author of his nature, propoitions himself to the
boundless capacity erf* the human heart. There,
ye earthly thoughts, ye worldly c£dre$, ye trouble-
some birds of prey, that so often perplex us in
life* there you have no access I There revolving in
his mind the divers objects ^presented to him in re-
ligion, he feels the various ^notions that are pro-
per to each. Sometimes the rich gifts of God fn
nature, and the insignificance tf man the recieiver
are objects of his contemplation, and then he ex*-
daims, O Lard, my Lord, how^xcellent is thy
name in all the earth I When 1 consider thy hea-
ven^, the work af thy fingers, the moon and the

THM ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. 6?

stars which thotf hast ordained, Psal..viii. 1,3. I
cannot help crying. What is man that thou arp
mindful' qf him. ! And the son of mm tkat-ihcu
visitest him I ver. 4. Sometime the bright ue$3
of the divine perfections shining in Jesus Christ
fii^eshis attention, and then he exclaims. Thou
art fairer than the children of men^ grace is
poured into thy lips, thenfore God hath blessed
thee for ever 1 Pjsal. slv,,S. Sometimes his mind
contemplates the train of fiiyors, with which God
hath enricjied every believer in his church, and theo
he cries, Many^ Q Lord my God, are thy wonder-
ful works which thou hast done, and thy thoughts
which are to us w^rd J they cannot be reckoned up
in Qrdif.r unto thee J Would J declare; and speak qf.
them f They are more than can be numbered I
Psal. xl. H. Sometimes it is the. facriilQe of the
cross, and then he saith. Without (controversy
great ?> the mystery of godlintAS, God was mani^
fesl in the flesh ! I Tim* iii* 16. j^qmetimefl it is
the joy of possessing God, and then \m language
isf. My soul is satisfied as with marrow and fatr
ness I Psal. Ixiii. ^. Sooietimes jt is* the desire ^
ecijoying God in a greater measMre*^ mnl in a rich*
er abundance, and the^i he says with A^apb, my
supreme good is to draw near to (i^ / When shall
I come? O when shall I CQmewd, appear btfona
God? Psahn. lx:^iii. 28. cmd x\\i.3.

Follow this man in the participation, pfb^bf
ordinances. Represent to yourselves a man, Wbqi
after preparing himself some day^^ or ,spine weeks
for the holy communion, bringing thither a heart
proportioned to the labqr» whic^ he hath taken to
dispiose it properly ; imagine suohft wan sitting 4t
this table al(mg with the amkitiona^ the iqiptt^Ss
the revengefiil, the yain^ all the members of: this
community, suppose this man saying tp himp^lf^

68 THE ADVAKTAGSS OF FIETY.

■they are not only men who see and consider me,
they are angels, who encamp around such as love
€k>d ; it is Jesus Christ, who sits amidst his disci-
pies assembled in his name; it is God bimseli^
who sees all, and examines all the dispositions I
bring to his table. It is not only an invitation to
this table given me by ministers, it is wisdom^ who
hath' furnished her table^ mingled her tvinc,
Prov. ix. 1^ 2. and who crieth. Ho, every one that
tkirsteth come ye to the waterSy Isaiah Iv. It is my
Saviour, who saith to me With desire^ I have de-
sired to eat with you, Luke xxii. 15. It is not on-
ly material bread, that I am receiving, it is a isym-
bol of the body and blood of Christ, it is his fle^
and blood under the elements of bread and wine.
It will be not only a little tranquillity of conscience,
which I shall receive at this table, if I enter into
the spirit of the mystery set before me : but I shall
haveconsoIatibbsc>ri my death bed, triumphs after
death, and oceans' of felicity and glory for ever.
God hath hot presetv^ me till now" merely to give
rti^ an Opportunity of sitting here : but to open to
m*e the^ treasures of his patience and long sujflTering :
M ekiafole trie to rtjperit of rtiy former negligence^
df breaking iW' Isabbath, profaning, the commu-
liioh, committing iniquity, forgetting my promises,
and oftendingf my -creator.

I ask, my bfethren, what is the man, who ap-
pro€ich^s the Lofd'is table with' such dispositions !
Is he a' common man ? Verily with eyes of flesh, I
)^ jnotbing to distinguish him from the crowd. I
see this man confounded with all others, whom a
lUx disciple suffer^ ■ to partake of this ordinance,
Md €<y peeeive With unclean hands and a profane
m6iitt(h'>the noost holy symbols of our religion ; at
mbst'I ste only ati agitation of his senses, a spark
iBhining- in his eye, a look cast towards heaven.

THB ADVANTAGES OP PIStY. §9

emotions^ which the veil of humility that covars
him cannot entirely conceal : but with the eyes of
my mind I behold a man of a superior order, amaA
m paradise, a man nourished with pleasure at the
right hand of God, a man at whose conversatioii
the angels of God rejoice, a man £urf;ened to the
triumphal car of Jesus Clurist, and who makes the
glory of the triumph, a man who hath the hapjyy
art of making heaven descend into his soul ; I
behold amidst the miseries and vanities of the
world, a man already just\fiedy already raised^
already glorified^ already sitting in heavenly place f
with Christ Jesus, Rom. viii. 30. Eph. iL 6. I
see a man ascending to heaven along with Jesiis
Christy amidst the shouting of the heavenly choif>
Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted
up, ye everlasting doors, and let the King of glory
in. Psalm xxiv. 7. I see a man with uncovered
face beholding the glory of the Lord, and changing
from glory to glory by the spirit of the Lord^
2 Cor. iii. 18. ,

But it is particularly in a dying 6e(2 that th^ pious
man enjoys foretastes of the life to oome. A world-
ling is confounded at the approach of that dismal
night, which hides futurity from him^ or rather des«
pair seizes his soul at the rising of that dreadful
light, which discovers to him a dispensation of pu-
nishment, in spite of his obstinate denial of it. Then
he sees fire, flames, devils, a lake of ^re^ the smoke
of which ascendeth up for ever and ever. Then
he shrinks back from the bitter cup, the dregs of
which he must drink; he tries though in vain to
put o£f the end by his too late prayer, and he cries
at its approach. Mountains fall on* me, hills cq*
ver me ! As for the believer* he sees and desires
nothing but that dispensation of happiness^ whiefi

, \

70 WE 4M>VAyrA«l» 07 HETY,

be hatli already embr»ced by faitb» possessed by
hope, and tasted by tthe comforts of the holy Spirit
io his sQul ; aud hence comes that active fervor,
which makes his countenance luminous like that of
departing Stephen. I cannot better express sttch
sentiments that in the words of the primitive saints^
who so happily experienced them.

/ have waited for thy mlvatwn, O JLord I I
know that my Redeemer iiveth, and though after
my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh I
shall see God ; whom I shall see for myself, tvhom
mine eyes shall behold and not another. . Though
thou slayest me, yet will I trust in thee, O Goa /
Though I walk through the valUyof the shadow
fif* deaths I will fear no evil, for thou art with me,
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. / know
whom J have believed, and I am persuaded, that
he is able to keep that which I have committed unto
him against that day. Neither count I my Itfe
dear so that I might finish my course with joy ^ and
the ministry which I have received of the Lord.
I desire to depart and be with Christy which is far
better. Lord Jesus receive my spirit. I have
fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I
have kept the faith, henceforth there is laid up for
wie a crown if righteousness. O death, where is
thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? In
these things we are more than conquerors, through
. him that loved us. As the hart panteth after the
water brooks^ so panteth my soul after thee, O
God I My soul Ibirsteth for God, for the living
God ! When shall I come and appear b^ore God f
H^w amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of
Hosts ? My soul longeth, yea, even faintethfor
the courts qf the Lord : my heart and my flesh cry
9utfor the living God. Blessed are they that dwell

THE ADVANTAGES OF PIETY. 71

in thy house, they will be still praising thee I
Thine altars, even thine altars, O Lord of Hosts^
my king and my God !

May you all, my brethren, may every one of ^
you know these truths by experience. God grant
you the grace. To him be honor and glory for
ever.

"^^ ■

SERMON Jr.

THE REPENTANCE Ci^F Tlji UNCHASTE

WOJIAN. ' . ; z'^"

LuKB vii. S6-o50.

i^iu/ am of thi pbariseei deur^d Mm tJk^ it vfouU i4it wtb
And he went into the Pharisee's ioneef and S0t, down to mu^m
And heboid f a woman tn the cUy^ which was a sinner^ when she
knew that Jesus sat at meat in thefhariiefy house, brought an

■ ^dahaster box ofointment, asui stood at hi* feet htAind him weefktg^
andhegait to wash his feet withiearsy ande^ wipe them with
the. hairs of her head, and hissed his feet, ami anointed tfa^
With the otntment. Now when the pharis^ nphicb had bidden

, timf saw it, he spake within himself , sayirig,' thii kan, if he wet^
a prophet f would have known who, and what mdnner of wotntm

, this .is that toutheth him s for. she is ft linnet:. Apd Jesu^
rOnsWfrh^t, said unfo him^ JSimon^ I hffoe.s^of^what to My usUp
tkee* And be saitb, msst^, say on* There was a certain creJ^or»
which had two debtors / tie one ow^d jive ^Ofid^^if pence", tma
the other fifty ^ And wkbn then had'kothing'Wfdy, he fraMy

forgave Aem both» Tett me^ tbh-eforef fifHcb-tf them wiH loik
most? Simon answered, md smf^ / j^tfpo^ that hi 4o- wffpm

he forgave most. And ^he. said unto hioff thou last rightlyjudged^
And he turned to the woman, anitsdid unto Simofs, s^t ihfm ttns
women^ ^ I entered into thine houst, thou gaveii/me m water *fiir
my feet •• but she hath washed my feet <0ith teats, and ^inped
them with the hairs of her heofif, JThou gtsmit ^ uokisMs, inft
this woman, siace the time I tame in, . bath npt .ceaud, tp. [tfet , m
feet. Mine head with oil thou didst not dnoifU ': but this ^ woman
hath anointed my feet with ointment. ' Whirefot^ I'ta^ untb'iha,
her sins which are many, are forgiven f^fh^ ^she h^ed much :
hut to whom little is forgiven, toe same hpoeth Sttle* And.hesdd
unto her, thy sins are forgiven. And they f hat sat at mcc^ wj^
him, began to sa^ within themseltfes, who is this that forff^;^
sins also ? And be tend to the 'i(f Oman, thy jmtf}' hgtb saved i&e s
go in peace. ,» ^

L "SIT me fall into the hands (^ the Lor d^ far
his mercies are great : bffi.iet menot/fydl
into the hand of many 2 Saip. xxiv. 14. Thj? jivas

VOT. V. X

2,4 THE . REFEKTANCij^ .OF.

the request, that ]9ayid madej in the most unhappy
moment of his life. A prophet sent by an aveng-
ing God came to bring him a choice of afflictions,
1 offer thee three, things^ choose thee one of them^
that I may dd it unto thee. Shall seven years of
famine come unto thee in thy land ? or wilt thou
flee three months before thine enemiesy while they
pursue thee ? or that there be three days pestilence
in thy land? Now advise, and see what answer I
'}hall return to hiin that sent me, yer. 12, &c.
: What a pi:oposal was this to a man accustomed
4;o' consider hekverit as a source of benedictions and
favofs ! Henceforth he was to consider it only as a
bav^rq of thunder and lightning, flashing and rol-
ling and ready to strike, him dead ! which of these
punishments will he choose ? Which of them could
he choose without reproaching himself in future
.%hat he hadchosen. the worst? Which would you
3b;^vc choseii h^ you teei^. in his place, my bre-
wen? Woiiid .you have determined for war?
Cbtflclyoti bavi^ borne the bafe^ idea of it? Could
yoxx have enduresd'to see %\\t once victorious armies
"6f Israel led initVittttiph by' ah enemy, the ark of
"ihe Lord a q»ptive, axruelahd barbarous soldiery
Wudng. a kingdoiA to^ ashes, razing fortresses,
^ravaging a harvest, and destroying in a moment
'tt6 hope of a wh'ojfe year ? Would you have deter-
^xnined for famine? Would you have chosen to have
.the heaven become as irony and the earth brass,
the seed dying in tlie earth, or thie corn burning
'.btfore it was rip*, ' The locust eating what the
^.j^^jher x^orrri hath left^ and the canker worm eat-
ing what the locust fiath left, Joel i. 4. men snatch-
ing bread from one another's hands, struggling be-
''tween life and death, and starving till food would
aflford no nourishment? Would you have chosen
mortality ? Could you have reconciled yourselves

THE UKCHAST£ WOMAV. 75

to the terrible times in which contagion, on the
wings of the. wind carries its deadly poison with
the rapidity of lightning from city to city, from,
house to house ; a time in which sooialliving is at
an end, when each is wholly employed in guarding-
himself from danger, and hath no. opportunity to:
take care of others ; when the father .fleesifixmi the
sight of the son, the son firom that of thet. father^
the wife avoids the husband, the husband the wife,;
when each dreads the sight of the person he most
esteems, and receives, and communicates poison-
ous and deadly infection ? These are tbedreadfol
punishments out of which God required guilty Da-
vid to choose one. These he was to weigh in a bar
lance, while. he agitated the mournful questiouy
which of the three shall 1 choose for my lot ? How-
ever, he determines. Let me fall inlajihe hands qf
the Lord J for his mercies are. great *• *but let me
not fall into the hand of man. He thought, that
immediate strokes from the hand of a Gpd, merci-
ful though displeased, would be most tolerable.
He could conqeive nothing more terrible than to
see between God and himself men, who would in-
tercept his looks, and who would prevent his ac-
cess to the throne of grace.

My brethren, the wish of David under his con-
sternation may . direct ours in regard to all the
spots, that have defiled our lives. True, the eyes
^ God are infinitely more pure than those of iben*
He indeed discovers frailties in our lives, which
have escaped our notice, and if our heart condemns
usy God is greater than our heart. . It is true, he
hath punishments to inflict on us infinitely more
dreadful than any. mankind can invent, and Jf men
can killtlte bodt/y God is able to destroy both soid
and bodyinhelL ., However, this Almighty God,
this terrible, this avenging God is a merciful God,

76 THE RKPfiMTAKCE OF

great are his tender mercies : but men, mem are
cruel^ yea, the very men, who allow themselves to
livb in the most shameful licentiousness, men who
have the most need of the patience of others, men
who themselves deserve the most rigorous punish-
ments, these very men are usually void of all pity
for their fellows. Behold a famous example. The
unchaste womsm in the text experienced both,
and by turns made trial of the judgment of God,'
and the judgment of men. But she met with a
very different treatment. In Jesus Christ she found
a very severe legislator, who left her a while to shed
tears, and very bitter tears ; a legislator, who left!
her awhile to her own grief, and sat and saw her
bair dishevelled, and her features distorted ; but
who soon took care to dry up her tears, and to ad-^
dress this oomfortable language to her. Go in peace.
On the contrary, in the hands of men she found
nothing but barbarity and cruelty. She heard a
supercilious pharisee, endeavor to arm against her
the Redeemer of mankind, try to persuade him to
denounce her sentence of death, even while she
was repenting of her sins, and do his utmost to
cause condemnation to flow from the very fountain
of grace and mercy.

It IS this instructive, this comfortable history,
that we set before you to-day, and which present!
three very different objects to our meditation, the
iconduct of the incontinent woman, that of the
pharisee, and that of Jesu^ Christ. In the com
duct of the woman, prostrate at the feet of our
Saviour, you see the principal characters of repent-*
ance. In that of the pharisee you may observe the
yenom^ that not unfrequently infects the judg-*
ments, which mankind make of one another^
And in that of Jesus Christ you may behold ire^

TKH UNCHASTE WOMAN. 77

and generous emotions of pity, mercy and compas*
sion. Let us enter into the matter.

h Let us first observe the incontinent woman,
now become a penitent. The question most con-^
troverted by interpreters, and very diflferently an-
swered by them, is that, which in our opinion \n
the ieast important, that is, who was this woman f
Not that a perfect knowledge of her person, and
of the history of her life, would not be very ppoi
^r, by explaining the nature of her sins, to give
lur a just idea of her repentance, and so contri*
bute to elucidate the text : but because, thou^
we have taken a great deal of pains, we have
found nothing on this article worthy to be propos-^
ed to critical hearers, who insist upon being treated
as rational men, and who refuse to determine a
point without evidence.

I know, some expositors, misled by a resem^
blance between this anointing of Jesus Christ, and
that mentioned in the eleventh chapter of St. Jobn^
when our Saviour supped with Lazarus, have sujv*
posed that the woman here spoken of was the same
Mary, the sister of Lazarus, who paid such a pro*
found attention to the discourse of Jesus Chri^, and
who, according to the evangelist, anointed the Lord
ivith ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair.
And as other parts of the gospel speak of another
Mary called Magdaleti, some have thought that
Mary the sister of Lazarus, Mary Magdalen, out
of whom it is said, Jesus Christ had cast seven de^
vilsy and the woman of our text, were one and the
same person.

We do not intend to enter on these discussions.
It is sufficient to knew, first, that the woman hei^
in question Kved in the^jity of Nain, Which sufJ-
Gently distinguishes her from Mary the sister of

78 THE REPENTANCE OP

Lazarus, who was of Bethany, and from Mary
Magdalen, who probably was so called, because she
was born at MagdalCj a little town in the tribe of
Manasseh. Secondly, the woman of our text was
one of a bad life, that is to say, guilty of impurity.
The original word signifies a sinner. This term
sometimes signifies in scripture the condition of
such as lived out of the covenant, and in this sense
it is used m the epistle to the Galatians, where St.
Paul calls pagans sinners : but the word is applied
in Greek authors to those women, who were such
as all the circumstances of our history engage us to
consider this woman. Though it is easy to deter-
mine the sin of this woman in general, yet it is not
so easy to determine the particular kind, whether
it had been adultery, or prostitution, or only some
one criminal intrigue. Our reflections will by turns
regard each of these conditions. In fine. It is
highly probable, both by the discourse of the phar-
isee, and by the ointment, with which this woman
anointed the feet of Jesus Christy that she was a
person of some fortune. This is all I know on this
sort of questions. Should any one require more,
I should not blush to avow my ignorance, and to
recommend him to guides wiser than any I have the
honor of being acquainted with, or to such as pos-
sess that, which in niy opinion, of all the talents
of learned men, seems to me least to beenviedj I
mean that of having fixed opinions on doubtfiit
subjects unsupported by any solid arguments.

We will confine ourselves to the principal circum--
stances of the life of this sinner j and to put our
observations into a kind of order we will examine
first, her grief — next, the Saviour to whom she ap-
plied — ^then, the love that inflamed her — and lastly,
the courage, 'with which she was animated^ In
these four circumstances we observe four chief cha-

THE VKCHASTS WOMAK. 79

racters, of repentance. First, Repentance must be
lively^ and accompanied with keen remorse. Our
sinner weeps, and her tears speak the language of
her heart. Secondly, Repentance must be wise in
it$ ^plication. Our sinner humbles herself at
the feet of him, tvho is the propitiation for our
finSy and not for ours only, but also for the sins of
the whale worlds 1 John ii. 2. Thirdly, Repen^
tande must be tender in its exercise, and acts of
divme love; must take place of the love of sin.
Fourthly^ Repentance must be bold. Our sinner
surmounts all the scruples dictated by false honor»
she goes into the house of the pharisee, and ac-
knowledges her misconduct in the presence of all
the guests, and was no more ashamed to disavow
her former crimes than she had been to commit
them.

r We consider, in the repentance of this woman
the gritf with which she was penetrated. Repent*^
ance must be accompanied with keen remorse. It
is the chief character of it. In whatever class of
unchaste people this woman ought to be placed,
whether jshe had been a commfon prostitute, or an
adulteress, or whether being unmarried she had
abandoned herself for once to criminal voluptuous-
ness, she had too much reason to weep and la-
ment. ^ If she had been guilty of prostitution, she
could not shed tears too bitter. Can anycofbrs
sufficiently: describe a woman, who is arrived at
such a pitch of impurity as to eradicate every de-
gree of modesty; a woman letting herself out to
infamy, and giving herself up to the highest bid-
der ; one who publicly devotes herself to the great- .
est excesses, whose house is a school of abomina-
tion, whence proceed those detestable maxims,
which poison the minds of men, and those infa-
mous debaucheries, which lYifect the body, and

80 THE REPEMTAMCE OF

throw whole families into a state of putre&ctioii ?
It is saying too little to affirm, that this' woman
ought to shed bitter tears at the reooUection of
her scandalous and dissolute life. The priests
and magistrates/ and people of Naiu ought to
have covered themselves in sack cloth and ashes
for having tolerated such a house, for not having
one spark of the zeal of Pbinehas the son of EUa*
zar. Num. xxv. 11. For having left one stone
upon another as a monument of the profligacy of
the city, and for not having erased the very founda-
tions of such a bouse though they, who were em^
ployed in the business, bad been buried in the ruins.
One such house suffered in a city is enough to draw
down the curse of heaven on a whole province, a
whole kingdom.

Rome, what a fair opportunity have I now to
confound thee ! Am I not able to produce in the
sight oL the whole world fiiU proof of thy shame
and in&my ? Do not a part of thy revenues pro^
ceed fjx>m a tax on prostitution ?* Are not pros*
titutes of both sexes thy fiursing fathers, and
nursing mothers ; is not the holy see in part sup-
ported, to use the language of scripture by the
hire of a whore, and the price of dog / Deut
xxiii. 18. But alas ! I should leave these too much
r^spn to retort. I should fear, you would oppose
oiff excesses against your excesses. I should have
too much reasoh to fear a wound by the dart shot
at thee. I should tremble lest thou jshouldesA draw
it smoking from thine own unclean heart, and lodge
it in ours. O God ! teach my hands to day to war,
and jny ^fingures to fight. My brethren, should
access to this pulpit be for ever forbiden to us in

^ See the wcoad volume of thc^s sennoiis, seroi. X. p. 9S9k

in the note.

THE UKCHASTA WOMAN. 81

future ; though I were sure this discourse would be
considered as a torch of sedition intended to set all
these provinces in a flame; and should a part of the
punishment due to the fomenters of the crime fall
^ipon the head of him who hath the courage to re-
prove it) I doj and Lwill declare, that the prosperity
of these provinces can never, no never be well estar
blished, while such affronts are publicly offered to
the majesty of that Go^l, who is ofj)urer eyes than
io behold evil^ Hab. i. 13. Ah ! Proclaim no more
fasts, convoke no more solemn assemblies, appoint
no more public prayers to avert the anger of heaven.
Let not the priests, the ministers of the Lord weep
between the porch and the altar y let them not say^
spare thy people, O Lord, and give not thine heri-
tage to reproach, Joel ii. 17. AH this exterior of
devotion will be useless^ while there are amongst
mspljEu^es publicly set apart for impurity. The fil^
thy vapor, that proceeds from them, will ascend;
and form a thick cloud between us and the throne
of grace, a cloud, which the most ardent prayers
cannot pierce through.

Perhaps out penitent had been guilty of adul^
tery. What idea must a woman form of herself;
if she have committed this crime, and considers it
in its true point of light ? Let her attentively ob-
serve the dangerous condition, into which she bath
plunged herself, an^ that to which she is yet'^'r
posed. She hath taken for her model the woman
described by Solomon, and who hath had too many
copies in latter ages, that strange woman in the
attire of an harlot, who is subtle of heart, loud
and stubborn, her feet abiding not in her house,
now without, now in the streets, lying in wait at
every comer, and saying to ^uch among the youth
^s'me void of understanding, I have peace offer-
ings with me, this day have I paid my vows. I

VOL. V. L

m THE R£P£MTAKC£ OF

have decked my bed with coverings of tapes try y
with fine linntn of Egypt. I have perfumed my
bed with myrrhy aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let
us take cur Jill of lovCy for the good man is not at
homCy he is gone a long journeyy and will not
come home till the day appointed, Prov. vii. 5. &c.
Is it necessary, thii^ you, my brethren, to alter
niany of these descriptive expressions to give a like-
ness of the manners of our times ?

Are not modern dissipations described in the
perpetual motion of this strange woman, whose
feet abide not in her house, who is now without in
the country, then, in the streets, dnd at every
corner ? What are some curious, elegant and
fashionable dresses, but the attire of a harlot ?
Are not the continual artifices, and accumulated
dissimulations, which some people use to conceal
jfiiture . designs, or to cover past crimes, are not
these features of this subtle woman ? What are
those pains taken to form .certain pairties of plea^
sure but features of this woman, who saith, I have
peace offerings with me, I have this day paid my
vows, come let us solace ourselves with loves ? What
are certain moments expected with impatience,
managed with industry and employed with avidity,
but features of this woman, who saith to fools
among the youths, the good man is not at home,
nor will he come home till th^day appointed?---!
stop. — ^If the unchaste woman in the text, had
been guilty of adultery, she had defiled the most
sacred and inviolable of all connections. She had
kindled discord in the family of him, who was the
object of her criminal regard. She had given an
example of impurity and perfidy to her children
and her domestics, to the world and to the church.
$he had affronted in the most cruel and fatal man-
ner the man, to whom she owed the tenderest at-

TH£ UNCHASTE WOMAN. 83

tachment^ and the most profound respect. She
had covered her parents with disgrace, and pro-
voked such as knew her debauchery to inquire from
whicfai of her ancestors^ she had received such im-
pure and tainted blood. She had divided her heart
and her bed with the most implacable enemy of
her: family. She had hazarded the legitimacy of
he^children, and confounded the lawful heir with
a spurious o£&pring. Are any tears too bitter to
expiate such an odious complication of crimes? is
any cfua&tity too great to shed to wash away such
guilt as this i

But we wiU not take pains to blacken the reputa-
tion of this penitent : we may suppose her un-
chaste, as the evangelist leadi us to do, without
supposing her an adulteress or a prostitute. She
might have fallen once^ and only once* '• . Her sin,
however^ even in this case must have become a
perpetual source of sorrow, thpusapds and thou-
sia^wis of sad reflections must have pierotd hep heart.
Was this the only fruit of my education ? Is this
all I have learned from- the many lessdhs, that have
been given me from my cradle, and which seem
so proper to guard me for ever against^ the rocks
where my feeble virtue has been shipwrecked ? I
have renounced the decency of my se^^ the appur*
tenanoes of which always have been timidity, sera-*
pulosity, delicacy and modesty. I have commit*
ted one of those crimes, which, whether it be ju»«
ttce or cruelty, mankind never forgive. I have
given myself up to the unkindness and contempt
of him, to whom I have shamefiiUy sacrificed my
honor. I have fixed daggers in the hearts of my
parents, I have, caused that to be attributed to
their negligence, which was occasioned only by my
own depravity and folly. I have banished myself
for ever from the company of prudent persons.

84 THE R£P£MTAKC£ OF

How can I bear their looks ? Where can 1 find a
night dark enough to conceal me from their sight ?

Thus might our mourner think ; but to refer all
her grief to motives of this kind would-be to insult
her repentance. She hath other motives more
worthy of a penitent. This heart, the heart that
my God demanded with so much condescension
and love, I have denied him^ and given up to vo-
luptuousness. This body, which should have been
a temple of the holy Ghost, is become the den of
an impure passion. The time and pains I should
have employed in the work of my salvation, I have
spent in robbing Jesus Christ of his conquests. I
have disputed with my Saviour the souls he redeem-
ed with his blood, and what he came to save I have
endeavored to sink in perdition. I am. become the
caus^ of the remorse of my accomplice in sin, he
considers ' me with horror, he reproaches me with
the very : temptations, to which he exposed me,
and when oar. eyes meet in a religious assafnbly,
or in the performance of a ceremony of devotion;
he tacitly tells me, that I made him unworthy to
be there. I shall be his executioner on his death
bed, perhaps I shall be so through all eternity. I
bave exposed myself to a thousand dangers, from
which nothing but the grace of Godliath protected
me, ta a thousand perils and dreadful consequences,
the sad and' horrible examples of which stain all
history. Such are the causes of the tears of this
penitent. She stood at the feet of Jesus Christ
weepings and washed his feet with tears. This is
the first character of true repentance, it consists
in part in keen remorse.

Repentance must be wise in its application.
Our sinner did not go to the foot of mount Sinai,
to seek for absolution under pretence of her own
righteousness, and to demand justification as a re-

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 85

ward due to her works. She was afraid, as she had
reason to be, that the language of that dreadful^
mountain proceeding from the mouth of divine jus-
tice would pierce her through. Nor did she endea-
vor to ward off the blows of justice by covering
herself with superstitious practices. She did not
say wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and
bow myself before the high God ? Shall I come be^
fore him with burnt offerings, with calves of a year
old ? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of
rams, or with ten thousand of rivers of oil ? Shall
I give my first born for my transgression, the
fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ? Micah
vi. 7. She did not even require priests and Levites
to offer propitiatory sacrifices for her. She discern-
ed the sophisms of error^ and acknowledged the
Redeemer of mankind under the veils of infirmity
and poverty, that covered him. She knew, that
the. blood of bulls and of goats could not purify
the conscience. . She knew that Jesus sitting at
table with the pharisee was the only offering, the
only victim of worth sufiicient to satisfy the justice
of an ofiended God. She knew that he was made
unto sinners wisdom, and righteousness, and sane--
tification, and redemption : that bis name was the
only one among men whereby they might be saved.
It was to Jesus Christ that she bad recourse^ be-
dewing with tears the feet of him, who was about
to shed his blood. for her, and receiving by an an-
anticipated faith the benefit of the death, that he
was going to suffer^ she renounced dependance on
every kind of satisfaction except his.

The third character of the repentance of this sin-
ner is love. It shall seem, Jesus Christ, would
have us consider all her actions as evidences of love,
rather than as marks of repentance. She hath lov-
ed much. These things are not incompatible.

m THE REPEKTANCE OF

Though perjcct love casteth out fear, yet it doth
not cast out grief^ for the pardon of sin received
by an elect SOUI5 far from diminishing the regret
which it feels for committing it, contributes to aug*
ment it. The more we love God, the greater the
pain felt for offending him. Yea, this love' that
makes the happiness of angels, this love that in*
flames seraphims, this love that supports the be*
liever under the most cruel torments, this^ love is
the greatest punishment of a penitent. T^ have
offended the Grod we love, a God rendered amia-
ble by infinite perfections, a God so teiader, so
compassionate as to pardon the very sins we la-
ment ; 'this love excites in a soul such emotions of
repentance as we should labor in vain to express,
unless your hearts, in concert with our mouths,
feel in proportion as we describe.

Courage is the fourth character of the repent-^
ance, or, if you will^ the love of this woman. She
doth not say. What will they say of me ? Ah, my
brethren, how often hath this single consideration.
What will they say of me ? been an obstacle to re-
pentance ! How many penitents have been discou-
raged, if not prevented by it ! To say all in one
word, how many souls hath it plunged into perdi-
tion ! Persons affected by this, though urged by
their consciences to renounce the world and its
pleasures, have not been able to get over a fear of
the opinions of mankind concerning their conver-
sion. Is any one persuaded of the necessity of liv-
ing retired > This consideration. What will be said
of me ? terrifies him. It will be said, that I choose
to be singular, that I affect to distinguish myself
from other men, that I am an enemy to social
pleasure. Doth any one desire to be exact in the
performance of divine worship ? This one consi-
deration. What will they say of me? terrifies.

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 87

>

They will say, I affect to set myself off for a re-,
ligious and pious person, I want to impose on the
church by a specious outside ; they will say, I am
a weak man full of fancies and phantoms. Our pe-
nitent breaks through every worldly consideration.
" She goes, saith a modern author, into a strange
house, without being invited, to disturb the plea-
sure of a festival by an ill-timed sorrow, to cast
herself at the feet of the Saviour, without fearing
wh^t would be said, either of h^r past life, or of
her present boldness, to make by this extraordinary
action a public confession of her dissoluteness and
to suffer, for the first punishment of her sins, and
for a proof of her conversion, such insults as the
pride of the pharisees, and her own ruined repu-
tation would certainly draw upon her.'* We have
seen the behavior of the penitent ; now let us ob-
serve the judgment of the pharisee. If this man
were a prophet^ he would have known zvho, and
what manner of woman that is that toucheth him,
for she is a woman of bad fame.

II. The evangelist expressly tells us, that the
pharisee toho thus judged, was the person at whose
table Jesus Christ was eating. Whether he were
a disciple of Jesus Christ, as is very probable, and
as his calling Christ master seems to import, or
whether he had invited him for other reasons, are
questions of jlittle importance and we will not now
examine therti. It is certain, our Saviour did often
eat with some pharisees, who far from being his
disciples were the most implacable enemies of his
person and doctrine. If this man were a disciple
of Jesus Christ, it should seem very strange that
he should doubt the divinity of the mission of
Christ, and inwardly refuse him even the quality
of a prophet. This pharisee was named Simon,

88 THE REPENTANCE OF

however nothing obliges us either to confound Si-
mon ttie pharisee with Simon the leper^ mentioned
in Matthew, and to whose house, Jesus Christ re-
tired, or the history of our text with that related
in the last mentioned place, for the circumstances
are very different, as it would be easy to prove,
had we not subjects more important to propose to
you. Whoever this pharisee might be, he said with-
in himself. This ma7i, if he ivey^e a prophet j would
have known whoy and what manner of woman
this is that toucheth him : for she is a sinner.
There are four defects in this judgment — a crimi-
nal indolence — an extravagant rashness — an into-
lerable pride — an antichristian cruelty. As we can-
not help condemning the opinion of the pharisee
for these four defects, so we cannot avoid censuring
most of the judgments, that people form on the
conduct of their neighbors for the same reasons.

A criminal indolence. That disposition of mind,
I allow, is very censurable, which inspires a per-
petual attention to the actions of our neighbors,
and the motive of it is sufficient to make us abhor
the practice. We have reason to think, that the
more peoplfe pry into the conduct of their neigh-
bors, the more they intend to gratify the barba-
rous pleasure of defaming them : but there is a dis-
position far more censurable still, and that is to be
always ready to form a rigorous judgment on the
least appearances of impropriety, and without tak-
ing pains to enquire, whether there be no circum-
stances that diminish the guilt of an action appa-
rently wrong, nothing that renders it deserving of
patience or pity. It doth not belong to us to set
ourselves up for judges of the actions of our bre-
thren, to bedome inquisitors in regard to their
manners, and to distribute punishments of sin and
rewards of virtue. At least, when we usurp this

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. S9

right, let us not aggravate our cohduct J>y the
manner, in which we exercise the bold imperious
usurpation. Let us not pronounce like iniquitous
judgies on the actions of those sinners, to whom
nature, society, and religion ought to unite us in
an affectionate manner. Let us procure exact in«
formations of the causes of such criminals as we
sumrnon before our tribunals, and let us not deli-
ver our sentences till we have weighed in a just ba-
lance whatever tends to condemn, or to absolve
them. This would bridle our malignity. We should
be constrained to sus|jend for a long time our avi-
dity to solicit, and to hasten the death of a sinner.
The pleasure of declaring him guilty would be
counterbalanced by the pain of trying the cause.
Did this pharisee give himself time to examine the
whole conduct of the sinner y as he called her ? Did
he enter into all the discussions necessary to deter-
' mine whether she were a penitent smm^Vy or an ob-
stinate sinner?, whether she were reformed, or
hardened like a reprobate m the practice of sin ?
No certainly. At the sight of the woman he re-
collects only the crimes, of which she had been
guilty ; he did not see her, and he did not choose
to see her in any other point of light ; he pro-
nounced her character rashly, and he wanted Jesus
Christ to be as rash as himself, this is a woman of
bad fame. Do you not perceive, my brethren,,
what wicked indolence animated this iniquitous
judge, and perverted his judgment.

The pharisee sinned by rasliness. See how he
judges of the conduct of Christ in regard to the wo-
man, and of what the woman ought to expect of
Jesus Christ, on supposition his mission had been
divine, this man, if he were a prophet would have
k?wwh whoy and what manner of woman this is
that toucheth him, for she is a sinner. This opt-

VOL. V. M

4

90 THE REPENTANCE OF

nion supposes^ that a prophet ought not in any
case to have patience with a woman of this sort. ,
As if it were impossible for a prophet to have any
design impenetrable to the eye of a pharisee ! As
if any one had a right to censure the conduct of a
man under the direction of the infinite Spirit ! But
it is because this man is a prophet, it is because he
is more than a prophet, it is because he is the
spring, the ocean, from which all the prophets de-
rived the supernatural knowledge of the greatest
mysteries of revelation, of predicting events the
least likely tb come to pass, of seeing into the most
distant and impenetrable futurity ; it is because of
this, that he is capable of forming a just notion of
the character of a sinner, and the nature of sin.
Yes, none but God can form such a judgment.
Who art thou that Judge th another ? Rom. xiv. 4.
Such a judgment depends on so many difficult
combinations, that none but an infinite intelli-
gence is capable of making it with exactness.

In order to judge properly of a crime, and a
criminal, we must examine the power of the .temp-
tations, to which he was exposed, the opportuni-
ties given him to avoid it, the force of his natural
constitution, the motives that animated him, the
resistance he made, the virtues he practised, the
talents God gave him, the education he had, what
knowledge he had acquired, what conflicts he en-
dured, what remorse he has felt. An exact com-
parison ought to be made of his sins with his vir-
tues, in order to detemline whether sin prevails
over virtue, or whether virtue prevails over sin, and
on this confronting of evidence a proper idea of the
sinner in question must be formed. It must be ex-
amined, whether he were seduced by ignorance,
or whether he were allured by example, or whether
he yielded through weakness, whether dissipation

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 91'

or dbstinacy, malice, or contempt of God and his
law confirmed him in sin. On the examination of
all these articles depends the truth of the judgment,
which we form of a fellow creature. There needs
nothing but one circumstance, nothing but one
degree of niore or less in a moral action to change
the nature of it, to render it pardonable or irremi$-
sible, deserving compassion or horror. Now who
is he, who is the man, that is equal to this combi-
nation ? Accordingly, nothing more directly vio-
lates the laws of benevolence and justice, tliau
some decisive opinions, which we think proper to
give on the characters of our neighbors. It is in-
deed the office of judges to punish such crimes as
disturb the peace of society ; aiid each individual
may say to his brethren, this is the path of virtue,
that is the road of vice. We have authority m-
deed to inform them, that the unrighteous, that is,
adulterers, idolaters, and fornicators shall not
inherit the kingdom of God, 1 Cor. vi. 9^ 10. In-
deed we ought to apprize them of danger, and to
make them tremble at the sight of the bottomless
pit, toward which they are advancing a great pace:
but to make such a combination as we have de-
scribed, and to pronounce such and such peoplq
reprobates is rashness, it is to assume all the au-
thority of the sovereign judge.

There is in the opinion of the pharisee a selfisii
pride. What is it then that makes this woman de^
serve his indignation ? At what tribunal will she be
found more odious than other sinners who insolent-
ly lift their heads both in the world and the church?
It is at the tribunal of pride. Thou superb pha-*
risee ! Open thine eyes, see, look, examine, there
is within the walls, where thy feast is prepared,
there is even at thy table a much greater sinner
than this woman, and that sinner is thyself ! The

92 • THE REPENTANCE OF

sin^ of which thou art guilty, and which is more
abominable than unchastity, more abominable
than adultery, more abominable than prostitution
itself^ is pride/ and above all, p)iarisaical pride.
The sin of pride is always hateful in the eyes of God,
whether it be pride of honor, pride of fortune, or
pride of power : but pride, arising from an opinion
of our own righteousness is a direct crime against
the divine majesty. On what principles, good God !
is such a pride founded ! What insolence has he,
who is animated with it when he presents himself
before God ? He appears without fear and dread
before that terrible throne, in the presence of which
seraphims cover their faces, and the heavens them-
selves are unclean. He ventures to say to himself,
I have done all my duty. I have had as much re-
spect for God Almighty as he deserves. I have
had as much zeal and ardor in prayer as the
exercise requires. I have so restrained my tongue
as to have no word, so directed my mind as to
have no thought, so kept my heart as to have nb
criminal emotion to reproach myself with ; or if I
have had at any time any frailty, I have so fully
made amcndsfor it by my virtue, that I have suffi-
ciently satisfied all the just demands of God. I ask
no favor, I want nothing but justice. Let the judge
of the world call me before him. Let devouring
fire, and eternal flames glitter in my presence.
Let the tribunals of retribution be prepared before
me. My arm shall save me, and a recollection of
my own righteousness shall support me in behold-
ing all these objects. You sufficiently perceive,
my brethren, what makes this disposition so hate-
ful, and we need not enlarge on the subject. Hu-
mility is the supplement of the virtues of the great-
est saints. What application soever we have made
to our duty, we have always fallen short of our ob-

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 93 -

ligations. We owe so much homage to God as to
acknowledge, that we cannot stand before him,
unless we be objects of his mercy ; and a crime
humbly acknowledged is more tolerable in his eyes,
than a virtue set forth with pride and parade.

What above all poisons- the judgment of the
pharisee is that spirit of cruelty, which we have ob-
served. He was content, though all the tears of
true repentance shed by this woman were shed in
vain, and wished, when the woman had recourse
to mercy, that God would have assumed in that
very instant a shocking character, that is, that he
would have despised the sacrifice of a broken and
a contrite Heart, Psalm li. 17. It is delightful, my
brethren, to combat such a fatal pretence. There
is a high satisfaction in filling one's mind with just
and elevated ideas of divine mercy. All we say
against the barbarity of the pharisee will serve to
strengthen our faith, when satan endeavors to drive
us to despair, as he endeavored once to destroy us
by security, when he magnifies the sins we h?ive
committed, as he diminished them, when he tempt-
ed us to commit them.

The mercy of God is not an abstract attribute,
discovered with great difficulty through sliades and
darkness by our weak reason : but it is an attri-
bute issuing from that among his other perfectioris,
of which he hath given the most clear and sensible
proofs, I mean his goodness. All things preach to
us, that God is good. There is no star in the fir-
mament, no wave of the ocean, no production, of
the ^arth, no plant in our gardens, . no period in
our duration, no gifts of his favor, I had almost
said no strokes of his anger, which do not contri-
bute to prove this proposition, God is good.

An idea of the mercy of God is not particular
to some places, to any age, nation, religion, or

94 THE REPENTANCE OF

sect. Although the empire of truth doth not de-
. pend on the number of those that submit to it,
there is always some ground to suspect we are de-
ceived^ when we are singular in our opinions^ and
^ the whole world contradict us : but here the senti-
^ ments of all mankind to a certain point agree with
ours. All have acknowledged themselves guilty,
. and all have professed to worship a merciful God.
Though mankind have entertained different senti-
ments on the nature of true repentance, yet all
have acknowledged the prerogatives of it.

The idea of the mercy of God, is liot founded
merely on human speculations, subject to error :
but it IS founded on clear revelations and revela-
tion preaches this mercy far more emphatically
than reason. These decisions are not expressed in
a vague and obscure manner, so as to leave room
for doubt and uncertainty, but they are clear, in-
telligible, and reiterated.

The decisions of revelation concerning the mer-
cy of God do not leave us to consider it as a doc-
trine incongruous with the whole of religion, or
connected with any particular doctrine taught as a
part of it : but they establish it as a capital doc-
trine, and on which the whole system of religion
turns. What is eur religion •? It is a dispensation
of mercy. It is a supplement to human frailty. It
is a refuge for penitent sinners from the pursuits of
divine justice. It is a covenant, in which we en-
gage to give ourselves wholly up to the laws of God,
and God condescends to accept our imperfect ser-
vices, and to pardon our sins, how enormous soe-
ever they have been, on our genuine repentance.
The promises of mercy made to us in religion are
not restrained to sinners of a particular order, nor
to sins of a particular kind : but they regard all
sinners and all sins of every possible kind. There

THJB UNCHASTE WOMAN. 95.

is no crime so odious> no circumstance so aggra-
vating^ no life so obstinately spent in sin> as not
to be pitiable and pardonable, when the sinner af-
fectionately and sincerely returns to God. If per-
severance in evil, if the sin against the holy Ghost
exclude people from mercy, it is because they ren-
der repentance impracticable, not because they
render it effectual.

The doctrine of divine mercy is not founded on
promises to be accomplished at some remote and
distant period j but experience hath justified these
promises. Witness the people of Israel, witness
Moses, David, Ahab, He2elB^> witness Manas-
seh^ Nineveh, Nebuchadnezzsu*. What bath not
repentance done ? By repentance the people of
Israel suspended the judgments of God, when they
were ready to fall on them and crush them. By
repentance Moses stood i?i the breach, and turned
away the wrath of God. By repentance David
recovered the Joy of his salvation, after he had
committed the crimes of murder and adultery. By^
repentance even Ahab obtained a reprieve. By
repentance Hezekiah enlarged the term of his life
fifteen years. By repentance Manasseh saved him-
self, and his people. By repentance Nineveh obtain-
ed a revocation of the decree th^t a prophet
had denounced against it. By repentance Nebu-
chadnezzar recovered his understanding, and his
excellent majesty. It would be easy to enlarge
this list. So many reflections, so many arguments
* against the cruel pretence of the pharisee.

»

ni. You have seen in our first part the repen-
tance of the immodest woman. In the second
you have seen the judgment of the pharisee. Now
it remains to consider the Judgment of Jesus
Christ concerning them bqth. There was a cer^

96 IHE REPENTANCE OF

tain creditor J which had two, debtors : the one
owed ^ve hundred pence, and the other ^fifty, and.
when they had nothing to pay , he frankly forgave
them both. Tell me therefore, whieh of them will
love him most ? Simon answered and said, I sup*
pose that he to zvhom he forgave most. And he
said unto him, thou hast rightly judged. And he
turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, seest
thou this woman ? I entered into thine house, thou
gavestme no water for my feet : but she hath wash--
ed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the
hairs of her head. Thou gavest me 710 kiss : but
this woman, since ^ke time I came in, hath not
ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou
didst not anoint : but this woman hath anointed
wy feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto
thee, her sins which are many are forgiven j for
she loved much : but to whom little is forgiven,
the same loveth little. This is our third part.

These words have occasioned a famous question^
It hath been asked whether the pardon granted by
Jesus Christ to this woman were an effect of her
love to Jesus Christ : or whether her love to Jesus
Christ were an effect of the pardon she had receiv-
-ed from him. The expressions, and the emblems
made use of in the text, seem to countenance
both these opinions.

The parable proposed by our Saviour favors the
latter opinion, that is, that the woman's love to
Jesus Christ was an effect of the pardon she had
received. A certain creditor had tzvo debtors,
when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave
the one Jive hundred pence, and the other fifty.
Which of them ivill love him most ? The answer
is. He, I suppose y to zvhom he forgave most.
Who doth not see, that the love of this debtor is
an effect of the acquittance from the debt ? Acid

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 97

as this acquittance here represents the pardon of
sin, who doth not see that the Jove of this woman^
and of all others in her condition, is here stated as
the effect of this pardon ? But the applicatioii which
Jesus Christ makes of this parable, seems to favor
the opposite opinion, that is, that the love here
spoken of was the cause and not the effect of
pardon. Seest thou this woman ? Said Jesus
Christ to Simon, / entered into thine house, thou
gavest me no ztmter for my Jeet : but she hath
washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with
the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no
kiss : but this woman, since the time I came
in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. Mine head
with oil thou didst not anoint: but this woman hath
anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I
say unto thee, her sins which are many are for»
given ; for she loved much. Doth it not ' seem»
that the application of this parable proposes the
pardon of the sins of this penitent, as being both
the capse and the effect of her love.

This question certainly derives illucidation, be-
cause it regards words proceeding from the mouth
of Jesus Christ himself, and on that account worthy
of being studied with the utmost care : but is th6
question as important as some have pretended? You
may find some interpreters regidy to excommunicate
one another on account of this question, and to ac-
cuse their antagonists of subverting all their foun-
dations of true religion. There have been times
(and may such times never return) I say, there
were times, in which people thought they distin-
guished their zeal by taking as much pains to en-
venom controversies, as they ought to have taken
to conciliate them; arid when they thought to serve
true religion by aggravating the errors of opposite
religions. On these principles, such as took the

vou V. N

98 THE REPEKTAKCE OF

words of the text in the first sense taxed the other
side with subverting the whole doctrine of free justi*
fication ; for» said they, if the pardon here granted
to the sinner, be an effect of her love to Jesus
Christ, what become of all the passages of scrip-
ture, which say, that grace, and grace s^one obtains
the remission of sin ? They of the opposite senti-
ment accused the others with subverting all the
grounds of morality ; for, said they^ if this wo
man's love to Jesus Christ be only an effect of par-
don, it clearly follows, that she liad been pardoned
before she exercised love : But if this be the case,
what become of all the passages of the gospel,
which make loving God a part of the essence of that
&ith without which there is no forgiveness ? Do you
not see, my brethren, in this way of disputing, that
unhappy spint of party, which defends the truth
with the arms of folsehood ; the spirit that hath
caused so many ravages in the church, and which
is one of the strongest objections, that the enemy
of mankind can oppose against a reunion^ of reli-
giQus sentiments, so much desired by all good men ?
What then, may it not be affirmed in a very sound
sense, that we love God before we obtain, the par-
don of our sins ? Have we not declaimed against
the doctrine of such divines as have advancea that
attrition alone, that is to say, a fear of hell with-
out any degree of love to God was sufficient to
open the gates of heaven to a penitent ? Recourse
to the Saviour of the world, such a recourse as
makes the essence of faiths ought it to have no
other motive than that of desiring to enjoy the be->
nefits of his sacrifice ? Should it not be animated
with love to his perfections ? But on the other band,
may it not also be said, in a sense most pure, and
most evangelically accurate, that true love to God
is an effect of the pardon we obtain of him ? This

9

/

i

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 99

Iov6 IS never more ardent, than when it is kindled
at the flame of that, which is testified in our abso*
Ititton. Is our zeal for the service of God ever
more fervent than when it is produced by a felt
reconciliation to him ? Are the praises we sing to
his glory ever more pure, than when they rise out
of such motives as animate glorified saints, when
can we say with them, unto him that loved us, and
washed us from our sins in his own blood, be glory
and dominion ? Rev. i. 6. Do different views of
this text deserve so much wormwood and gall ?

But what is the opinion of the Saviour of the
world, and what would he answer to the question
proposed ? Was the pardon granted to the sinner
the cause of her love, or the effect of it ? Which
of the two ideas ought to prevail in our minds, that
in the parable, or that in the application of it ?
The opinion most generally received in our churches
IS, that the love of this woman ought to be consi-
dered as the effect of her pardon, and this appears
to us the most likely, and supported by the best
evidence : for the reason, on which this opinion is
grounded, seems to us unanswerable. There is
neither a critical remark, nor a change of virtue,
that can elude the force and evidence of it : a ere--
ditor had two debtors, he Jorgave the one Jive
hundred pence, and the other fifty, the first will love
him most. Undoubtedly this love is the effect, and
not the cause of the acquittance of the debt. On
the contrary, the reason on which the second opi-
nion is founded may be easily answered. It is
grounded on this expression. Her sins are for-
given, for she loved much. The original reading
is capable of another sense. Instead of translat-
ing for she loved much, the words may be render-
ed without any violence to the Greek text, her sins
are forgiven, and because of that or on account

^' r*- .** cv N ''^ '^'■'' "

..-K

100 THE. REPENTANCE OP

of that she loved much. There are many exam-
ples of t)ie original term being taken in this sense.
We omit quotations and proofs only to avoid pro«
lixity.

We must then suppose^ that the tears now shed
by this woman were not the first, which she had
shed at the remembrance of her sins. She had al-
ready performed several penitential exercises under
a sense of forgiveness, and the repetition of these
exercises proceeded both from a sense of gratitude
for the sentence pronounced in her favor, and from
a desire of receiving a ratification of it. On this
account we have not assigned the fear of punish-
ment as a cause of the grief of this penitent, as
we ought to have doi^e had we supposed that she
had not already obtained forgiveness. Our suppo-
sition supported by our comment on the words of
the text in my opinion, throw great light on the
whole passage. The pharisee is offended because
Jesus Christ suffered a woman of bad character to
give him so many tokens of her esteem. Jesus Christ
mak^s at the same time an apology both for him-
self and for the penitent. He tells the pharisee,
that the great esteem of this woman proceeds from
a sense of the great f^ivors, which she had received
from him : that the pharisee thought he had given
sufficient proof of his regard for Jesus Christ by
receiving him into his house, without any extraor-
dinary demonstrations of zeal, without giving him
water to wash his feet , oil to anoint his heady or
a kiss in token of friendship j and that what pre-
vented him from giving greater marks of esteem
was his considering himself in the condition of the
first debtor, of whom only a little gratitude was
required, because he had been released from an
obligation to pay only a small and inconsiderable
sum : but that this woman considered herself in

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 101

the condition of the other debtor, who had been
forgiven Jive hundred pence ; and that therefore
she thought herself obliged to give her creditor the
highest marks of esteem. Seest thou this woman ?
I entered into thine house y thou gavest me no wa^
terfor my feet : but she hath washed my feet with
tears J and wiped them with the hair^ of her head.
Thou gavest me no kiss : but she hath not ceased
to kiss my feet. My head zvith oil thou didst not
Mnoint : but she hath anointed my feet with oint-
ment. Wherefore I say unto thee, hersins, which
are many are forgiven. On this account she hath
loveth much, and hath given me all these proofs of
affection, which are so for superior to those, which
I have received at your table, /or he, to whom little
is forgiven, loveth little.

At length, Jesus Christ turns himself towards
the penitent, and, affected at her weeping afresh,
repeats his assurances of forgiveness, and appeases
that sorrow, which the remembrance of her crimes
excited in her heart, though she no longer dreaded
punishment. Go saith he, thy sins are forgiv-
en. .. . Go in peace.

Ye rigid casuists, who render the path of life
strait and difficult; ye, whose terrifying maxims
are planted like briars and thorns in the roads to pa-^
radise; ye messengers of terror and vengeance,
like the dreadful angels who with flaming swords
kept guilty man from attempting to return to the
garden of Eden ; ye who denounce only hell and
damnation ; come hither and receive instruction.
Come and learn how to preach, and how to write,
and how to speak in your pulpits to your auditors,
and how to comfort on a dying bed, a man, whose
soul hovers on his lips, and is just departing. See
the Saviour of the world ; behold with what ease
and indulgence he receives this penitent. Scarcely

r

lOf THE REPENTANCE OF

had she begun to weep, scarcely had she touched
the feet of Jesus Christ with a little ointment but
he crowned her repentance, became her apologist^
pardoned during one moment of repentance the
excesses of a whole life, and condescended to ac-
knowledge for a member of a glorious churchy not
having spot or xvrinklej or any such things this wo-
man, and what kind of a woman ? A woman g*uil*
\y perhaps of prostitution, perhaps of adultery,
certainly of impurity and fornication. After this,
do you violently declaim against conversion, under
pretence that it is not effected precisely at such
time as you think fit to appoint ? Do you yet re-
fuse to publish pardon and forgiveness to that sin-
ner, who indeed hath spent his whole life in sin, but
who a few moments before he expires puts on all the
appearance of true repentance, covers himself with
sorrow and dissolves himself in tears, like the peni-
tent in the text, and assures you that he embraces
with the utmost fervor the feet of the Redeemer of
mankind ?

Do I deceive myself, my brethren ? I think I see
the audience quicken their attention. This last
reflection seems to suit the taste of most of my
bearers. I think, I perceive, some reaching the
right hand of fellowship to me, and congratulat-
ing me for publicly abjuring this day a gloomy and
melancholy morality, more likely to drive sinners
to despair than to reclaim them.

How, my brethren, have we preached to you so
many years, and you after all so little acquainted
with us as to imagine that we have proposed this
reflection with any other design than that of shew-
ing you the folly of it ? Or rather are you so little
acquainted with your religion, witb the spirit of
the gospel in general, and with that of my text in
particular, as to derive consequences diametrically

THl UNCHASTE WOMAN. 103

opposite to the design of inspired writers ? And
where, pray, are these barbarous men ? Where are
these messengers of vengeance and terrors ? Where
are the casuists, w|iose maxims render the road to
eternal life inaccessible ? Who are the men, who thw
excite your anger and indignaJ;ion f What ! Is it
the man, who hath spent fifty or sixty years m ex-
amining the human heart ; the man who assures you
that, after a thousand diligent and accurate inves*
tigations, he finds impenetrable depths of decep-
tion in the heart ; the man, who, from the difficul-
ty of his own examinations derives arguments to
engage you not to be satisfied with a superficial
knowledge of your conscience, but to carry the
light of the gospel into the darkest recesses of your
heart ; the man, who advises you oveir and over
again that if you content yourselves with a slight
knowledge of yourselves, you must be subject to
ten thousand illusions, that you will take the sem^
blance of repentance for repentance, itself, that you
will think yourselves rich and increased with goods,
while you are zvretched, and miserabky and poor,
and blindj and 7iaked, Rev. iii. 17. Is this the ri-
gid casuist, who offends and irritates you ?

Perhaps it is the man, who tells you that, in or-
der to assure yoqrselves that you are in a state of
[race, you must love God with an esteem of pre-
Tence, which will engage you to obey him before
all his creatures ; the man, who, judging by innu-
merable evidences that you prefer serving the crea^
tiire more than the Creator^ Rom. i. 25. concludes
from this sad phenomenon that you have reason to
tremble : the man, who advises you to spend at
least one week in recollection and retirement before
you partake of the Lord's supper : the man, who
would have you purify your hands from the blood
of your brethren, and your heart burning with ba-

i

104 TH£ R£P£NTAKC£ OF

tred and vengeance, and on that account placed in
a catalogue of murderers hearts, according to the
spirit of the gospel : the man, who forbids you to
conje to the Lord's supper while your wicked
courses are only suspended instead of being re-
formed, and while your cruel exactions are only
delayed instead of being entirely left off? Perhaps
this is the man ! Is this the rigid casuist, who of-
fends and irritates you ?

Or, probably, it is the man, who hath attendea
you three, four, or half a dozen times in fits of
sickness, who then saw you covered with tears,
every time acknowledging your sins, and always
calling heaven and earth to witness your sincere in-
tention to reform, and to change your conduct, but
who hath always seen you immediately on your reco
very return to your former course of life, as if you
had never shed a tear, never put up a prayer, never
made a resolution, never appealed to heaven to at-
test your sincerity : the man, who concludes, from
such sad events as these that the resolutions of sick
and dying people ought always to be considered as
extremely suspicious ; the man, who tells you that
during all his long and constant attendance on the
sick he hath seldom seen one converted on a sick
bed (for our parts, my brethl'en we are mournful
guarantees of this awful fact) the man alarmed at
these frightful examples, and slow to publish the
grace of God to dying people of a certain class ; I
say, probably, this is the man, who offends you !
Is not this the cruel casuist, who provokes you ?

What ! Is it the man, who sees the sentence of
death written in your face, and your house of clay
just going to sink, to whom you appear more like
a skeleton than a livings body, and who fears every
morning lest some mes§enger should inform him
that you was found dead in your bed, who fears all

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 105

this from your own complaints, what am I saying ?
from your own complexion, from the alarms of
your friends, and from the terrors of your own fa-
mily ; the man, who is shocked to see that all this
makes no impression upon you, but that you live a
life of dissipation and security, which would be
unpardonable in a man, whose firm health might
seem to proniise him a long life ; the man who cries
to you, awake thou that steepest, and arise from
the dead, and Christ shall give thee light, Eph. i.
11. improve the remainder of life, the breath
which, though it leaves thee to totter, prevents
thy falling down dead. Is this the man, the rigid
casuist who offends and irritates you ? Such max-
ims, such discourses, such books, such sermons,
are they the systems of morality, which confound
you, and drive you to despair ?

After all, where are the pinners, whom these ca-
suists have driven to despair ? Where are those tor-
mented and distracted consciences ? For my part>
I see nothing, turn my eyes which way I will, but a
deep sleep. I see nothing but security, lethargy,
insensibihty. How is it possible that the history of
our text, that the language of Jesus Christ, Wo^
man, thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace, that
the voice of eternal truth should incline you to raise
objections full of error and illusion ? Is there no
difference between your case and that of this peni-
tent woman, none between Jesus Christ and your
casuists ? Is there any thing in which they agree ?
The casuist conversing with this penitent was a
prophet, a prophet ! he was a God, who, searched
the reins and the hearts, who saw the bottom of
her soul, and who penetrated through all the vails,
with which a frail human heart is covered, and be-
held the truth of her conversion and the genuine-
ness of her grief: but you, my brethren, you have

VOL. y. o

106 THE R£P£NTAMCE OF

no such casuists^ and we can judge only by exter-
nal performances^ which ascertain your st&te only
on condition that they proceed from your heart.
Our penitent lay prostrate at the feet of the Lord
of reiigion> who could save her, if he pleased, by
extraordinary means, and who could deliver her
from death and hell by a singular effort of power
not to be repeated : but your cai^ists are servants,
who act by commission, under express directions
and orders, and who have no right to announce
peace till you answer the description given in the
royal instrument. Such ministers, whatever assur-
ances of grace and pardon they affect to give,
ought never to calm your consciences till you have
exactly conformed to the orders of their and your
sovereign master. Our penitent came to ask par*
don in a free and voluntary manner, while she was
in perfect health, all her actions were unconstrain-
ed and spontaneous : but you wait till death hales
you to the tribunal of God, you loiter till the fear of
eternal flames fright you away from such pleasures
as you continue to love, and to which you would
most likely return again, did not God spare you the
shame by not giving you an opportunity. The pe*
nitent in pur text did all she could in her circum-
stances to express the truth of her repentance,
there^ was no sacrifice so dear that she did not offer,
no victim so valuable that she did not stab, if I
may use such an expression, with the knife of re-
pentance, no passion so inveterate that she did not
eradicate, no marks of love for her Saviour so ten-
der that she did not with all liberality express. Be*
hold her eyes flowing with tears over the feet of Je-
sus Christ, behold her hair dishevelled, her perftimes
poured out, behold all the characters of sincerity,
which we have observed in our first part. Is there
any one mark of a true conversion, which she does

THE UNCHASTE WOMAN. 107

not bear ? But you, how many reserves, how many
artifices have you ? How many actions of your
lives, which we must not be allowed to state to you
in their true point of light ? How many tempers
in your hearts, which must not yet be touched ?
Here, it is an ^nemy, the bare sound of whose
name would increase your fever, .and hasten your
death. There it is an iniquitous acquisition, which
you reserve for your son to enable him to take your
name with greater honor, and to support with
more dignity that vain parade, or rather that dust
and smoke in which you have all your life involved
yourself. Our penitent never deceived Jesus Christ :
but you, you have deceived your casuist a thousand
and a thousand tinges. Our penitent wept over
the odious parts of her life, and, far from being too
proud to confess her sins, gloried in her confession
while she blushed for her crimes : but your eyes, on
the contrary, your eyes a^e yet dry, and i^ is Jesus
Christ, who is weeping at your feet, it is he, who
is shedding tears over you, as formerly over Jeru-
salem, it is ha who is saying, O that thou hadst
known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the
things which belong unto thy peace ! O that my
people had hearkened unto me, and Israel had
walked in my ways ! Luke xix. 42. Psal. Ixxxi.
13. It is not then to you, but it is to your kind
of repentance that sentences of absolution ought
to be refused. The repentance of the unchaste
woman was exactly conformable to the covenant
of grace, to the genius of the gospel, and to the
end of the mission of Jesus Christ. Hence from
the mouth of the Saviour of the world proceeded,
in spite of her former libertinism, in spite of the
cruel censure of the pharisee, and- in spite of the
murmyring of the guests, these comfortable words.

108 THE REPENTANCE OP, &C.

JFoman, thy sins are forgiven thee. Woman, thy
faith hath saved thee. Go, depart in peace.

Here, my brethren, the evangelist finishes the
history of the penitent woman; and here we will
finish this discourse. There is, however, one cir-
cumstance, which St. Luke hath omitted, and
which, if I may venture to say so, I wish he had
recorded in the most severe and circumstantial man-
ner. What were the future sentiments of this wo-
man after the courageous steps she had taken at
her setting out ? What emotions did absolution
produce in her soul ? What effects in her conscience
did this language of the Saviour of the world cause.
Woman, thy sins are forgiven — thy faith hath sav-
ed thee — go in peace ! But there is nothing in this
silence that ought to surprize us. Her joy was not
a circumstance that came under the notice of the
historian. In the heart of this frail woman con-
verted and reconciled to God lay this mystery con-
cealed. There was ihsX peace of God which pas-
seth all understanding, that joy unspeakable and
full of glory, that ivhite stone, and that new name,
which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.
May you receive it, my brethren, that you may
know it ! May the grief of a lively and bitter re-
pentance wound your hearts, that mercy may heal
and comfort them, and fill them with pleasure and
joy ! God grant us this grace ! To him be honor
and glory for ever. Amen.

SERMON V.

THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING TO OPPOSE

GOD.

Proverbs xxi. SO.

There is nb wisdom^ nor undtrstandtng^ nor counsel against

the Lord.

HOW mean and despicable soever the human
heart since the fall may be, there are always
found in it some principles of grandeur and eleva-
tion. Like such superb edifices as time hath de-
molished, it discovers even in its ruins some vesti-
ges of its primitive splendor. Whatever presents
itself to man under, the idea of great and noble,
strikes and dazzles him : whatever presents itself
to him under the idea of low and servile, shocks
and disgust him. Accordingly one of the most
formidable methods of attacking religion is to ex-
hibit it as a contrivance fit for narrow geniusses and
mean souls. One of the most proper means to es-
tablish irreligion is to represent it as suited to great
and generous minds. To rise above vulgar ideas,
to shake off the yoke of conscience, to derive feli-
city and glory from self, to make fortune, victory,
providence, and deity itself yield to human will,
these are pretensions, which have I know not what
in them to flatter that foolish pride, which an erro-
neous mind confounds with true magnanimity.

110 THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

We propose to-day, my brethren, to combat these
dangerous prejudices, to dissipate all such appear-
ances of grandeur and elevation, and to make you
feel the extravagance of all those, who have the
audacity to attempt to oppose Almighty God, The
wise man calls us to this meditation in the words of
the text. There is no wisdom nor understandings
nor counsel against the Lord.

Perhaps you will accuse us (and we will enter on
the subject by examining this objection) perhaps
you will accuse us of creating phantoms to combat.
Perhaps you will defy us to find among the diflferent
classes of idiots, whom society cherishes in its bo-
som, any one» who hath carried his extravagance
so far as to presume to oppose God, or to pretend
to constrain him by superior knowledge or power.

My brethren, one of the most difficult subjects ia
the study of the human heart is, when a man leads
a certain course of life, to determine whether he
have adopted the extravagant principles on which
his conduct is founded, and without which his con*
duct is the most palpable folly. Take which side
we will, whether that he acts on principles, or with-
out them, the case will appear extremely difficult.
On the one hand, we can hardly persuade ourselves
that an intelligent creature, who is capable of go-^
verning a state, regulating a large and extensive
commerce, and of arranging a variety of systems,
should entertain notions seemingly incompatible
with the very least degree of intelligence. On the
other hand, we know not how to comprehend,
that a course of actions, which is the natural effect
of such notions, can subsist without them.

Follow us a moment, my brethren, into these
labyrinths of the human heart, or rather, let us
endeavor to know ourselves, and to reconcile our*

TO OPPO$£ GOD. Ill

aelvei^ to oursdves^ and let each of us put a few
questions to himself.

I, who hav€ some id^a of the perfections of God,
and who. cannot doubt whether he know the most
secret thoughts of my heart, can I promise myself
to impose on him in his temple by a painted out-
side, by a grave deportment, and by a mournful
countenance, while my understanding and my af-
fections take no part in religious exercises, while
my ideas are confused, and while my passions pro-
mise me an immediate indemnity for the violence
I have offered them during the few moments of
this seeming devotion ? But, if I have not this
thought, how is it then that I think to obtain the
fevor of God by exercises of this kind ?

I, who was educated in the christian church,
can I imagine that God hath less dominion over
me, when the air is calm, the heavens serene, and
the earth firm under my feet, than when the clouds
are thick and black, the thunder rolls in the air,
the lightning flashes, and the earth seems to open
under my feet ? But, if 1 have not adopted this
opinion, how comes it to pass that I commit the
greatest crimes withoiit remorse in the first period,
and in the second reproach myself for the most par-
donable of all my frailties ?

I, who am surrounded with the dying and the
dead, I, who feel myself dying every day, I, who
carry death in my face, who feel it in my veins,
who, when I lay on a sick bed a few months ago,
and thought myself come to the last moment of
life, felt the most violent remorse, I, who would
have then given the whole world, had the whole
worid been at my disposal to have been delivered
from sin, can I persuade myself that I shall live
here always ? Can I even persuade myself that I
shall live much longer ? Or if I could, that when

112 THE VAKITT OF ATTEIfPTIB&

death riiall present itself to me, I shall be exempt
from remorse, and that the crimes, which now make
the pleasure of my life, will not be the poison of
my dying bed ? But, if I be incapable of adopting
opinions so opposite to what I know by Ceding and
experience, what am I doing ? How is it possible
for me to live as if I thought mysdf immortal, as
if Z had made a covenant with death, and were at
agreement with the grave, as if I had stifled for
ever the feelings of my conscience, as if I were
sure of dictating myself the decree of divine jus-
tice concerning my own eternal state ?

And not to multiply examples, of which the ex-
travagance of the human mind would fiimish a
;reat number, I, whose views are so short, whose
:nowIedge is so confined, whose faculties are so
frail, and whose power is so limited, can I promise
myself success in opposing the designs of that God,
who saith in his word. My counsel shall standi and
I will do all my pleasure ? Isa. xlvi. 10. Can I
promise myself to subdue a God Great in counsel,
and mighty in work, Jer. xxxii. 19. and to con-
strain him by superior power ? But, if I have not
adopted such extravagant thoughts, what mean
the obstacles, which 1 oppose against his will ?
What signify my plans of felicity, which are dia-
metrically opposite to those, which he hath traced
for me in his word ? Why do I not direct all my in-
tentions and actions to incorporate in my interest
him, whose will is productive and efficient ? Why
do I not found my system of living on this princi-
ple of the wise man. There is no wisdom, nor un^
derstanding, nor counsel against the Lord.

My brethren, explain to us these enigmas, dis-
cover yourselves to yourselves, and reconcile your-
selves with yourselves. O miserable man ! What
kind of madness animates thee? Is it that of having

TO OPPOSE GOD. 1 13

conceived these extravagant thoughts, which are
alone capable of varnishing over thy conduct ? Or
is it that of acting without thought, which is a sort
of raving madness, for even erroneous opinions
might seem to thee to apologize for thine actions ?
O heart of mariy deceitful above all things ^ and
desperately wickedy who can know thee ? Jer.
xvii. 9.

However, the knowledge of this heart so diffi-
cult to be known is not entirely unattainable, it is
even essential to our happiness. How should we
correct ourselves without knowing ourselves ? How
should we acquire real wisdom without knowing
precisely what our folly is, and by what means to
get rid of it ?

It should seem, we ought to search for a solu-
tion of these difficulties in the artifices of our own
passions. The passions not only disguise exterior
objects, but they disguise even our own thoughts^
they persuade us that we do not think what we do
think, and in this manner they confirm us in the
most extravagant notions, the absurdity of which
we could not help ^eing wercJ we dispassionate
and cool. The work, therefore, to which we ought
most seriously to apply ourselves, is to take off
such coverings as our passions throw over our opi-
nions, and which prevent our seeing that we think
as we do ; to this important work I shall address
myself in the remaining part of this discourse.

A modern philosopher hath founded on this prin-
ciple the whole of his system on the difference be-
tween right and wrong. He says, justice consists
in affirming that a tbing^ is what it is, and injustice
in denying it. He explains this thought by ano-
ther, that is^ that we affirm and deny not only by
words, but also by actions, and that the second
manner of affirming or denying is more express

VOL. T. p

114 THE VANITY OF ATT£MfrriK<$

and decisive than the first. I will not examine
whether this philosopher liave oot carried bis prin*
ciples too far : but I ain going to prove by the ac*
tions of men that they pretend to oppose God, and
that they set four obstacles against bis will, their
grandeur, their - policy, their pleasures, and their
stoical obstinacy. I am going to prove at the same
time to worldly politicians and grandees, to volup-
tuous and stoical people, that to undertake to re-
${ist God is the height of extravagance. There is
no wisdom nor understandings nor counsel against
the Lord.

I. We will consider our text in regard to worldly
grandeur. We sometimes see those, who are call*^
ed grandees in the world, resist God, pretend to
compel him by superior fi>rce, or by grealer know-
ledge. And whom do we intend to characterize ?
Is it a Pharaoh, who boldly demands, who is the
Lordf that I should obey his voice /^ Jb it a Sena-
cberib, who uttered this insolent language. Beware
lest Hesickiah persuade you, sayifig, the Lord will
deliver us. Hath any of the. gqds of the nations
delivered his land out of the hand qf the king of
Assyria f Where are the ^.ods of Hamath and
Arphad f Where are the gods cf Sepharvaim ?
Who are they amongst all the gods qf these lands^
that have delivered their land out of my handy
that tl^ Lord should deliver Jerusalem out qf my
hand f Is it a Nebudiadmezzar, to whom a pro-
phet puts this mortifying question. Haw art thou
f alien from heaven, thou day star, thou son of
the morning f Thou who didst weaken the nations^
hast said in thine he^rt, I will ascend into hea-
ven y I will exalt my throne above the stars qf God,
I mill sit also upon the mount of the congregation

TO OPPOSE GOD. 115

in the sides of the north, I ivilt be like the most
highi Isa. xxxvi. 18. 20. and chap. xiv. 12 — 14.

Is it a Nero, who could hear without trembling
those blasphemous elogies, " If the fates had no
other methods of placing Nero oil the throne than
those civil wars, which deluged Rome with blood,
ye gods, we are content ; the most atrocious crimes,
the most sanguinary executions are agreeable at
this price. Lift up your eyes, Cdssar, and choose
your place aniiong the immortal gods, take th^
thunder of Jupiter, and succeed the father of gods
and men. Mount the chariot of the sun, and give?
the world light, all the gods will count it felicity
8Ad gfovy to submit to thy lislws, and to give up
their place and their power to thee.**

But nature produces few ^uch nionsters. Out
age hath too much knowledge, and our manners
are too refined to suffer such plain and open decla^
rations. Yet faoW often is grandeur even now iti
oQi^ times a patent for insolence s^ainst God ?
Wliat, for example, is that perpetual parade of the
g^eait, and that vain ostentation, with which they
dazirle the eyes of their dependents, and of which
they avail themselves to rob Grod of the hearts oF
meh? What is that haughty confidence, which
they place in tljeir forces, after they have guarded
their cities, built forts, and filled their treasures,
they live in security, even though they have pro-
voked God by acts of the most crying injustice,
by the most barbarous executions, and by the
most execrable blasphemies? Whence that immo-
derate avidity of praise, whieh makes them* nou-
rish themselves with the incense of a vile flatterer,
and live on the titles of hnmbrtals, invincibles, ar-
biters of peace and war ? Whence that contempt
of religion, and that spirit of impiety and pro^
phaneness, which Usually i^igns in the hearts of

IKS THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

princes ? Whence that dominion^ which some of
them exercise over conscience, and those laws,
which they dare to give mankind to serve God
against their own convictions, to form ideas of him,
which they think injm*ious to his majesty, to per-
form a worship, which they think contrary to his
express commands, and to profess a religion di-
rectly opposite to what they themselves believe to
be the true religion of Jesus Christ ? Whence are
all these dispositions, and what are all these actions?
My brethren, open the folds of the human heart,
take off the coverings under which the turpitude is
concealed, penetrate into the principles of mens
actions, and you will find that to oppose God, to
pretend to control him by a superior power is not
a disposition of mind so rare as you might at first
sight have imagined. You see the great worldling
makes bis opulence, his titles, his grandeur, his navy,
his army a force to set against Almighty God, But
what is such a man ? An idiot. What are his titles
and grandeurs, his navies and armies, and all his
opulence ? What is all this ? A little chaff, a little
dust, a nothing in the presence of the omnipotent
God.

I recollect here a piece of instruction which a
king one day gave his courtiers. They were call-
ing him lord of earth and sea. The monarch put
on his robes, and caused himself to be carried to the
sea shore. There he sat on the beach, and said to
the waves, " the land on which I sit is mine, and
you, sea, you are under my dominion, I com-
mand you to respect your king, and to come no
fiirther." The waves deaf to his voice came rolling
forward, the first wetted his feet, the second seem-
ed to threaten to carry him away. There ^ said
the king to his courtiers, see what a lord I am of
(MH^im^m ' Oreiat lesson to all worldly poten-

TO OPPOSE GOD. 117

tates! Insignificant man, pat on thy crown,, daz-
zle thyself first with the glitter of. it, and theji try
to beguile the eyes of others, deck thyself in thy
royd robes, try thy strength, shew us the extent of
thy power, say to winds and waves, to fortune,
and sickness, and death, I command you to stop,
and to respect your king.

O think of the glorious attributes^ the sublime
ideas, the deep counsels, and the abundant power
of that God, whom thou opposest. He stretcheth
out the north over the empty place, and hangeth
the earth upon nothing. He bindeth up the waters
in his thick clouds. The pillars of heaven trem-
ble, and are astonished at his reproof. He divid-
eth the sea with hispoxver, and by his understand-
ing he smiteth through the proud. He meteth out
heaven with a span, and comprehendfth the dust
of the earth in a measure. He wfiigheth the
mountains in scales, and tlys hills in a balance.
He sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the
inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers. Behold
^U nations, are as a drop of a bucket and are
counted as the small dust of the balance. All be-
fore him are as nothing, and they are counted to
him less than nothing, and vanity. H^ bringeth
princes to nothing, he maketh the judges of the
earth as vanity. Job xxvi. 7y 8, 11, 12. and Isa.
xl. 12, 22i 15, 17, 23.

Think of thy soul, thou wilt find nothing there
but infirmity and ignorance. Thou art confined as
a man, and more confined still as a great man, for
grandeur usually contracts the limits of knowledge
and improvement.

Think of the author o( those advantages, which
swell thee with pride. Thou art indebt^ for them
to that very being, whom thou pretendest to resist.
It is his breath that animates thee« his arm upholds

lis THE TAKITY OF ATTEMPTINa

thee, his earth supports thee, his food nourishes
thee, and it is his air. Which thou borrowest to
breathe.

Think what mortal blows of just vengeance God
hath given to some insolent creatures, who pre-
sumptuously opposed his majesty. So perished
Antiochus, who, in the language of the book of
Maccabees, a little afore thtrnght he might com-
mand the waves of the sea, and weigh the high
mountains in a balance^ was now cast on the
ground^ so that the worms rose up out of his bo^
dy^ his flesh fell awajfy and the fllthiness of his
smell was noisome to all his army, % Mac. \sl. 8—^
10. So perished Herod; ** His bowels were con-
sumed wkh an inward fire. His entrails wen^ full
of ulceht. The stench of his breath infected his
room and drove away all his family." So perished
Maximinus, of whom Lactantius gives this fright-
ful account i *^ The wound gained his vitals, there
yermin ingendered, the palace and the city were
infected, his body putrified, the more his sores
were cleansed the more innumerable were the
swarms of vermin that proceeded from them, of
which his entrails were an inesthaustible source.''

Think of thine end. Look through the deceit-
ful splendor that covers thee. See the weakness of
thine organs, behold thy hands already shakings
thy knees already trembling, thy head, all crown-
ed and glittering as it is, bending toward that
earth from whidh it was taken, and to which it will
presently return. Imagine thyself dym^^ cold,
pale, groaning, and vainly calling to thine asiast-
ance thy courtiers, thy sceptre and thy crown. Is
this the ifi^rnortal man ? This the arm, that ruled
the fate of whole nations ? Is this the potentate^
whose looks made the world tremble ? Oh ! how
eloquent his fauihility, my bttethren, lo him wh^

Tflf OPPOSE OOP* 119

I|9 willing to bear it ! Oh ! how suificienti in nM>«
tivea is the school of humility^to^ him who is wil*
ling to he taught there ! How, how can a creature
sp mean, so vile, so limited, so frail, so momen-
tary as man, how can he possibly oppose Almighty
God ? How can he resist his power ? Wilt thou
jfet say before him that slayeth the^ I am God ?
But thou shalt be a mari and no god in the band
of him that slayeth thee^ Bzek. xxviii. 9«

II. Worldly policy is a second obstaclej, which
some men set against the laws of heaven, and by
which they discover a disposition to resist God, and
to compd him by superior force. Had the man,
of whom I speak, other ideas, he would lay down
as first principles and grounds of action — ^that the
wisest maxima of state are those of religion — ^that
t.be best we can do for society is to render God pro*
pitiQus — ^imd that the happiest people are they
whose God is the Lord. When counsels were held:
to delibe;rate on peace or jvar, such a man would
do from religious principle what was anciently done
at Rome from the mere dictates of natural justice*
It would be examined not only whether it would be
advantageous to make war in the present conjunc-
ture, but whether it were just ; whether it proceed-
ed from an insatiable desire of dominion and wealthy
or from the ri^t, which all mankindjiave to guard
and defend themselves. When the question was>
whether any one should be invested with magi»^
tratical authority, such a man would examine with
as much care the religious principles as the politt«-
cal virtues of the candidate for power ; he would
not consider whether he were' able to practise crimes
of state> which have been long successful^ but whe*
ther he inviolably respected the laws of religion^
the exercise of which soon or late must necessarily

120 THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

crown its adherents with prosperity and victory.
Never would he assist in placing at the head of a
political body a blasphemer or an atheist.

But when we see men pursue a conduct directly
opposite to this, when we see men always forget
jthat they are christians^ when they deliberate on
the public good, and lay aside, if I may be allow-
ed to speak so, faith, conscience and the gospel at
the door of the council room ; when we see a cer-
tain disdainful air, a look of affected piety put on
at the proposals of such as wish to direct the pub-
lic good by the principles of religion ; when we see
people of this character pretend by their prudence
to avert public calamities ; have we not a right to
say of such men, that they resist God, and pre-
tend to compel him by superior power?

But what are such men? Idiots. With your
pernicious maxims you banish religion and piety,
and by so doing deprive yourselves of all the advan-
tages, which you might have derived from the in-
clinations of a people well disposed to be religious
and good. Should the people live by the rules of
religion, they would pay taxes with fidelity, obey
their governors with respect, generously perfer the
public good before private interest, and so establish
such a correspondence between subject and sove-
reign as can alone render states prosperous and hap-
py : but while they see, that their masters wander
out of this right road, they act toward you, as you
do towards God, they employ tlieir power to resist
your authority, and their knowledge and address
to illude your laws.

With these pernicious maxims you render social
interest a chimera. You consider a public body
as a being permanent and in a manner eternal,
which ought to employ itself about what concerns
it as a public body: but you never recoliect that

TO OPPOSE GOD. 1121

this public body is composed of only individuals,
one of whom has only a few years, and another
only a few months to live in this world, so that the
real interest of such as compose this body hath no
relation to the duration of the body, a duration
which individuals cannot expect, and which re-
gards them only to the end of their own days.
You labor to promote a general interest, in which
individuals have only a very smalt share, and you
act against the true interest of each, which consists
not in consolidating a world, that he is just quit-
ting, but in learning to pass through it with dignity,
and to leave it with ^ase.

With these pernicious maxims you keep menio-
rable catastrophes out of sight, those terrible sub-
versions of wicked societies ; as the history of the
old world, that of Sodom and Gomorrah, that of
the kingdom of Judah, that of the ten tribes, that
of Babylon, that of the seven eastern churches, and
that of many others, whose sad but edifying ruins
should always be before your eyes.

With these pernicious maxims, for the sake of a
few trifling directions which you give society for
maxims of state, you deprive us of the powerful
protection of a God, who would himsejf sit at the
helm ; you raise his justice against us -, you put
into his hands thunder and lightning to destroy
US; and, instead of being our parents and guides,
you are disturbers of the state, and the most im^
placable enemies of sound civil polity. .

O pillar of a cloud ! O wisdom that is from
above ! Animate, for ever animate the conductors
of this people, preside m their councils, march at
the head of their armies, sanctify their reflections,
and engrave for ever on their souls this maxim of
my text, that there is no wisdom^ nor understand-
rngy nor council against the Lord, J dm. iii. 17,

VOL. V. Q

li^a THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

III. Our third article cbticerns the voluptuous.
One of the most inviolable laws of God is, that
felicity should be the reward of virtue, and misery
the -punishment of vice. WhAV does a voluptuous
Aifa'n oppose again^ th6 iekecut^ioh of this lavr ?
Noise, company, diycrsionfe,- refiieittetits t>f las6i-
vionsness. In these beihtrendhes himself, and de-
fies us to force him thence. While/the catechumen
is studiously employing himselff to clear away the
difficulties, and to determine tlie important ques-
tions, on which all his future hopes depend ; while
the believer is sti4ving agfain'st the stream, and en-
deavoring to subdue his -6wn passions ; while the
penitent feels and bows under the weighty remem-
brance of his sins ; while the martyr falls a victim
to the rage of his persecutors ; the voluptuary feels
^ joy, which he thinks unalterable, and creates a
kind of fool's paradise, in which he pretends to
brave God, and to be happy in spite of him, whose
sovereign command condemns him to misery.
Absurd tranquillity ! Senseless security ! I appeal
to reason, I appeal to conscience, I appeal to old
age, I appeal to death, I appeal to judgment.

What a system is that of the voluptuary, when it
is examined at the bar of reason ! There he is
taught, that he owes his existence to a Supreme
Being, and that he is under infinite obligations to
him ; there he is made to feel that he hath no as-
surance of living four days, that within fifteen,
twenty, or thirty years, he will be taken out of this
world, and that at the end of this term there will
be before him nothing but death, eternity, and hell.
He knows nothing against this, he agrees to all
this, he inwardly feels demonstrations of all this:
but, instead of trying to avoid the evil day, he
tri es to forget it; and, as if the existence of beings
depended on the attention we paid to them, he

TO OPPOSE GOD. 123

imagines he hath annihilated these dreadful objects,
because he hath found the art of obliteratiog them
from his memory.

What a system is that of the voliyptuary, when
it is examined at the tribunal of conscience ! For,
in fact, whatever eflForts may be enaployed to drown
the voice of conscience, it sometipies roars,, and
will be heard. Even a depraved conscience hath a
. kind of periodical power ; it cannot always be in-
toxicate with worldly pleasure. Belshazar on a
certain festal day, was sitting at table with bis
court. In order to insult the God of Israel, be or-
dered the sacred vessels, which his father had
brought away from the teinple of Jerusalem, to be
brought into company, that he and his princes y
his wives y and his concubines^ might drink therein^
and praise the gods of gold and of silvery of
brass, of iron, of wood, and of stone. All on a
sudden his countenance changes, and his thoughts
trouble him so that the joints of his loins are loos-
ed, and his knees smile one against another, Dan.
v. 2, 4, 6. thus proving the truth of what the wise
man observes, that the wicked flee zvhen no man
pursueth, Prov, xxviii. I. Unhappy king ! What
is the occasion of all this terror and fear? Dost
thou see a sword hanging over thee by a single
thread, and ready to fall on thee and cut thee asun-
der? Have thine enemies who are besieging the
capital, found a way into it ? Does the earth, reel
under thy feet ? Is hell opening to thine eyes ? Do
the infernal furies surround thee, and cause the
serpents on their heads to hiss in thine ears ? No :
but a hand is loriting over against the candlestick
upon the plaister of the wall, ver, 5. And wbat
have you to fear from that hand ? You are not ac-
quainted with the characters. Perhaps the writing
is an encomium on thee. Perhaps it is an oracle

124 THE VANITY OP ATTEMPTING^

foretelling thee some new acquisition of splendor
and glory. Why, of two senses, of which the writ-
ing is capable, dost thou imagine the worst ? My
brethren, behold the solution of this difficulty.
These ^fingers of a matCs hand are not alone :
the finger of God accompanies them. The sub-
ject is not only written on the wall of the royal
palace : but it is aKo inscribed on the heart of the
kmg. His eye& could not read the characters, but
his ionscienc e knew how to explain them. Ah !
Miserable hypocrites ! cease calling for astrolo-

fers ; leave off consulting magicians and chaldeans.
-isten to your own heart. The expositor is within
thee, and thy conscience will tell thee more than
ail the wise men in thy kingdom.

What a system is that of a voluptuary consider-
ed in the decline of life ! A voluptuous man,
w hen his organs are become feeble, and his facul-
ties worn out, finds he hath outlived his felicity,
yet he looks after the gods, of which time hath de-
spoiled him, and in vain expects that voluptuous-
ness can rid him of the painful reflections, which
torment afid excruciate him.

M^hat a system is tliat of a voluptuary considered
in regard to death and future punishment ! These,
certainly, ought to alarm all that expect them :
but they ought ahove all to terrify a voluptuous
man. What will be the sensibility of such a man }
What will be his despair, when he shall pass from
a bed of down to all pervading pain, from pleasure
to eternal fire, from excessive lasciviousness to
chains of darkness, from the company of those
who ministered to his voluptuousness, to that of the
executioners of divine vengeance.

IV. In fine, a stoical obstinacy is the fourth ob-
0tade» which some place against the purposes of

TO OPPOSE GOD. 1 25

God. Would you see this hardiness represented in
the most insolent language ? Would you see how
far men have been able to carry their extravagance
on this article. Hear one of the most admired of
the ancient philosophers, but the least worthy of
admiration. Hear what an idea he gives of his
wise man. " There are neither walls nor towers,
which battering rams cannot subvert : but there
are no machines that can shake the soul of a wise
man. Do not compare him to the walls of Baby-
Ion, which Alexander knew how to destroy; nor
to those of Carthage and Numantia, which human
power subverted. Do not compare him either to
the citadel or to the capital, where the marks of
enemies attempting to render themselves masters
of them are yet to be seen. Arrows shot at the
sun never reach him. Sacrileges committed in the
temples of the deity, by breaking in pieces the
symbols, and by subverting the edifices, never
affect him. What am I saying, the gods them-
selves may be buried in the ruins of their own
ttmples : but the wise man never can : or, could
he be overwhelmed, he could suffer ho damage.
Jupiter hath nothing niore than the wise man, ex-
cept his immortality. But the wise man in his turn
hath this superiority,, that he is perfectly happy
during the short space of this life. In this he is as
much greater than Jupiter as it is more glorious to
compress all happiness into a narrow space than to
diffuse it through one more considerable, and to
possess as much felicity in one single instant as the
greatest of the gods enjoy in eternity."

Who would believe, my brethren, that men,
who were formerly the admiration of the world,
had been able to oppose such crude and fanciful
ideas against all the evidences of their depravitj^
and dependence ? Who could conceive, that they

J

126 THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

seriously set these against sickness, poverty, pain,
conscience, death, the grave, the punii^hment of
hell, and the msyesty of God ?

Are there any of this extravagant sect yet sub-
sisting ? Hath Zeno any disciple3 now ? Are there
any who yet follow and revere the doctrine of the
portico ? Yes, my brethren, there are yet people^
who under another name maintain the same senti-
ments. I know not whence the evil comes, whe-
ther from the air we breathe in these provinces, or
from our diet, or from any other cause ; I cannot
tell whether dulness of fancy produce in us what
excessive vivacity produces in other countries ; biit
it should seem, we have as many of this jsort among
us as there are in other pljaces. We have people,
who affect an unshaken firmness, who glory in pre-
serving their tranquillity under all the extremes of
fortune; people who behold the king of terrors
with intrepidity, and who laugh at the horrors of
death, alike immoveable in the hearing of.the most
alarming truths, the most terrible descriptions of
futurity, censures the, most sharp, and threatnings
the most dreadful. And whence do they derive
this calm intrepidity ? From vows addressed to
heaven ? No. Is it from the progress they bave
made in religion ? Not at all. Is it from the clear-
ness of a close, connected, and evident system ?
Nothingof all this. Whence then do they derive
these sentiments ? From I know not what secret
pride, from I know not what absurd gravity, from
I know not what infernal mflexibility, from a sort
of stoical, or shall I rather call it brutal philoso-
phy, which they have revived. We ingenuously
acknowledge, that a sight of people of this charac-
ter always excites emulation in us, at least it leads
us to deplore the inefficacy of religion in some peo-
ple's minds. Truth with all its brightness, virtue

TO OPPOSE eoD. 127

^ith all its graces, religion with its evidences, eter-
nity with its demonstrations, celestial felicity with
its pomp, air these things can hardly hold some
fremblrng christians steady to their profession, who
yet seem to adhere to Jesus Christ : while these
iiien without light, without proofs, without de-
tfiohstration, without certainty, yea without hope,
discover a tranquilhty, which We should congratu-
late ourselves for producing even after we have
spent twenty or thirty years in the ministry.

But how fair soever this exterior may seem, how
ansui*riiountable soever this difficulty may appear,
how strotig soever it may seem to prevent the judg-
ments of God, and to dispose of the terrors, which
they naturally excite iri the conscience, it is an
effort of wickedness easily defeated, and although
this fourth way seems to surpass the three others in
Wisdotn, yet it actually goes beyond them all in
absurdity and extravagance.

Do we impose on people of this ki nd ? Let them
tell us on what their tranquillity is founded. Al-
lowing the circumstances, in which we now are,
thire can be only two ways of acquiring tranquil-
lity in prospect of death. The first is, to prove
that religion is a human contrivance ; that all we
propose concerning a future state, a heaven and a
hell, and concerning the means of escaping the
last and enjoying the first, is-either exaggerated or
imaginary. The second is, to bring full proof that
we have performed the duties, to which religion
hath annexed a promise of freedom from misery,
and the possession of eternal felicity. In which
class shall I place the man I have been describing ?

He would complain of injustice should I put him
in the first class. He always professed himself a
christian; He hath all his life long been present at
public worship, and hath partaken of our sacra-

128 THE VANITY OF ATTEMPTING

ments. In any case, if he be an infidel, he is a.
mere idiot. Distracted with the cares of life, he
hath never made such enquiries as are absolutely
necessary to refute the system of religion, even
supposing the system could be refuted ; and I
pledge myself, let him take which side he will, to
silence him, whether he undertake to attack reli-
gion, or to defend it, so grossly ignorant is he of
every thing that belongs to the subject.

Hath he then obtained satisfaction by the second
method ? A man, who hath set his heart entirely
at ease, because he can give full proof that he
hath performed the duties, to which the gospel hath
annexed a promise of exemption from future mi-
sery, and a possession of endless felicity ; such a
man is truly happy ; he hath arrived at the highest
degree of felicity, that can possibly be obtained in
this valley of tears ; for his tranquillity is that ^oy
unspeakable and full of glory ^ of which our scrip-
ture speaks. It is that peace of God^ which pas-
seth all unde7'slandin^. It is the while stonCy which
no man knoweth saving him Ihat receivelh it. But
is this the condition of the man whom I have been
describing ?

On what conditions does religion promise eter-
nal life to a statesman ? On condition that he al-
ways set before your eves that king, 6z/ zvhom kings
reign, and princes d,ec7*ee justice, Prov. viii. 15.
on condition that he doth not regard the appear-
ance of persons; on (ondition that he take no
bribes, which God de: lares blind the eyes. You
have not performed this condition , you are intox-
icated with your own grandeur , you are inaccessi-
ble to the cries of widows and orphans, you are
flexible to presents, though you know they are
given you to be returned in actions disguised under

...'.■rfaAJrtfvfe."

[<:

TO OPPOSE GOD. 129

the Tair names of impartiaiity and equity. And are
/you in a state of tranquillity ?

On what condition does the gospel promise eter-
nal felicity to a counsellor ? On condition that Im
perform the oath administered to him wherthe en-
tered on his profession, an oath in which he called
God to witness that he would never plead any but
just causes. You have not performed this condi-
tion, you have been known to take either side df a
cause, yea both, when your interest required it ;
you have been seen exercising your talents in var-
nishing over such causes as you durst not state in
their true point of light, and straining every nerv6
to mislead the judges. And you are in a state yf
tranquillity, and vvillbeso the day yon die.

On what condition does religion promise eternal
happiness to a man in possession of property un-
justly acquired ? On condition of his making resti-
tution. You are in this case, I mean in the case
of him who holds such property, for (he stone
crieth out of the zvalls of your houses^ and the
beam out of the timber witnesseth against you.
The hire of the laborers^ ivhich have reaped down
your ,fieldsy zvhich is of you kept back by frauds
criefhy and the cries are entered into the ears of
the Lord of Hosts, Hab. ii. 11. Jam. v. 4. You
have not made restitution, you will not even suffer
us to utter this frightful word, restitution ; you arc
going to transmit this accursed patrimony to your
children; and you too are tranquil and easy!
What ! Are you also a philosopher ? Are you also
a stoic ? Extravagant stoicism, senseless philoso-'
phy, absurd tranquillity ! Is it thus you pretend to
oppose Almighty God ! There is no zvisdom, nor
understandings nor counsel against the Lord.

Let us conclude. The most reasonable part
that an inteHigent creature can take, h to submit

VOL. V. R

130 THE VAKITY OF ATTEMPTING

to his Creator. Happy if it were as easy to a£^
feet our hearts, as it is to convince our judgments
of this article ! Happy, if the heart never appeal-
ed from the dictates of reason, and if the passions
had no distinct and separate system ! A system
the more dangerous, because reason is present only
in the few moments of our attention ; whereas the
other, on the contrary, always carries us away
when we follow the suggestions of our passions,
that is in the usual course of our lives.

My brethren, let us act like intelligent creatures,
let us form a just idea of sin, let us always have be-
fore our eyes this image, which the wise man hath
given us, and which is so proper to demonstrate to
us the extravagance of it. Jjet us remember that
a sinner is an idiot, who attempts to resist Grod,
who opposes his laws, and who undertakes to coun-
teract him by superior skill or force. Let us seek
in a reconciliation to God, those succors, of which
our silly pride offers us only an appearance. But
you love grandeur, you are struck with the courage
of a man who opposes God, and who pretends
to resist and triumph over him. Wejl, consider
the path we open to you in this point of light.
This Almighty God is armed against you, his an-
ger is ready to crush you to atoms, his thunder
roars, his lightnings flash in your eyes, his fire is
kindled, and his justice requires your destruction :
but there is an art of disarming God. This was
the skill of Jacob, who wept and prayed, and said,
/ zvill not let thee go, except thou bless me, Geq.
xxxii; 26. This was the wisdom of Moses, who
stood in the breach to turn away the wrath ofhea-
ven, of that Moses, to whopi God said. Let me
alone, that I may consume this people, Exod.
xxxii. 10. but Moses said, forgive their sin,
and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of the book

TO OPPOSE GOD. 131

which thou hast written^ ver. 32. This is the art
which Jesus Christ taught us, the kingdom of hea-
ven stiffereth violence, and the violent take it by
force. Matt. xi. 12. These are powerful weapons,
which God will not oppose. These are arms al-
ways effectual. This was the method which the
Lord formerly taught his people by the ministry of
Isaiah. Who zvould set briars and thorns against
m^ in battle ? I would go through them^ I would
burn them together. O, let him take hold of my
strength, he may keep peace with me, he shall keep
peace with me, Isa. xxvii. 4, 5. I-.et us not make
a vain parade before God of fanciful great ness, let
us rather appear in our own insignificance, let us
shew ourselves as we are, poor, miserable, blind,
and naked. Let us not pretend to surprize him
with the wisdom of our counsels : but let us endea-
vor to move his compassion by acknowledging our
uncertainty, our darkness, our ignorance, our su«
perficial thoughts on the government of the world. •
and on that of our families. Let us not appear be-
fore him intoxicated with pleasure, but mortified,
contrite, bowed down under the weight of our sins,
prostrate in the dust, and wounded with sincere re-
pentance. Let us not resist him with a brutal se-
curity, but let us lay before him our timidity, our
doubts, and our fears. Let us conjure him by the
sad objects of our frailty and insignificance, to pity
our condition. These are invincible arms, these are
impenetrable shields ; this is th^ infallible art of
prevailing with Almighty God. May he deign to
teach us how to exercise it ! May he condescend to
crown our efforts with success ! Amen ! To him be
honor and glory both now and for ever ! Ameat

m»

SERMON VI.

IMAGINARY SCHEMES OF HAPPINESS.

ECCLESIASTES i. 9.

The thing thai hath heen^ is that which shall he ; and that which
is done^ is that which shall be done : and there is no new thing
under the sun.

THERE are few people in the world, who d(5
not form in their minds agreeable plans of
happiness, made up of future flattering prospects^
which have no foundation except in their own fan-
cies. This disposition of mind, which is so gene-
ral among mankind^ is also one of the principal
causes of their immoderate desire to live. Some
have questioned whether any mortal was ever so
happy as to choose to live his life oyer again, on
condition of passing through all the events, through
which be had gone from bis birth to his last hour.
Without investigating this problem, I venture to
affirm, that mankind would be much less attached
to the world, if they did not flatter themselves with
the hope of enjoying more pleasure than they had
hitherto experienced. A child fancies, that as soon
as he shall arrive at a certain stature, he shall enjoy
more pleasure than he hath enjoyed in his child-
hood, and this is pardonable in a child. The youth,
persuades himself that men, who are what they
call settled in the world, are incomparably mor^

134 IMAGINARY SCHEMES

happy than young people can be at his age. Whfle
we think ourselves condemned to live single, soli-
tude seems intolerable ; and when we have asso-
ciated ourselves with others, we regret the happy
days we spent in the tranquillity of solitude. Thus
we go on from fancy to fancy, and from one chimera
to another, till death arrives, subverts all our imagi-
nary projects of happiness, and makes us know by
our own experience what the experience of others
might have fully taught us long before, that is,
that the whole world is vanity, that every state,
all ages, and all conditions, have inconveniencies
peculiar to themselves, and one which is commoa
to them all, I mean a character of disproportioq.to
our hearts ; so that by changing our situation^ we
often do no more than change our kind of infelicity.

Of this vanity I would endeavor to-day to con-
vince you, my brethren, and 1 dedicate this dis*
course to the destruction of imaginary schemes of
happiness. The thing that hath been, is thai which
shall be J and that which is done, is that xohich
shall be done : and there is no new thing under
the sun. It is not unjust to reason thus ; as I have
hitherto found nothing but vanity in all the enjoy-
ments of the ,world, which 1 singled out for myself
as most likely to make me happy, this experience
of what hath been shall guide me in my expecta-
tions of what shall be. I have reason to suppose
that the world can offer me no object in future dif-
ferent in its nature from those which I have al-
ways hitherto found inadequate to my happiness,
j/ilt the past hath been vanity, and all the future
zvill be vanity, to the end of the world. The thing-
that hath been, is that zvhich shall be s and that
zvhich is done, is that zvhich shall be done : and
there is no new thing under the sun.

In order to enter into the views of the wise man^

OF Hli^lJiEhS, iSd

we ]i9i[iifit^bserv^ thr^ tbings : first, the 4^ror which
he atteckn — next, the arms he makes use of — and
lastly, the end he proposes in attacking it. Su^
fer me, before I enter pn the discussion of these
,art<iQJks, to give you a more e^act idea of my mean-
^gjandtoJe^d youmone fally into the plan of this
i^i^ourse.

In the ^rst artide I shall try to develope the idea
of Solomon, and to engage you to enter into the
xickost intricate labyrinths of y6ur own hearts, and
to make you acknowledge that we are all, more or
less, prejudiced in &vor of this bewitching opinion,
that future life will produce something more solid
and atatisfactory than we have hitlierto found, es-
pecially if we obtain some advantages, which we
have long had in prospect, but which we have not
yet been able to obtain.

Jn the second part we will prove, that even sup-
posing the happiest revolutions in our favor, we
shpuld be deceived in our hopes, so that whethelr
they happen or not, we sliall be brought to ac-
knowledge that there is nothing in this world capa-
ble of rendering us perfectly hajppy.

In the last place we idiall conclude from these
two principles with the wise man, that, though a
reasonable creature may be allowed to better his
condition, and to obtain a happier state in this
world than the past or the present, yet he ought
by no means to promise himself much success, and
that, in one word, it is in God alone, and in the
hqpe of a future state of happiness in another life,
that we ought to place our felicity.

I. Let us first of all determine the sense of the
text, and examine what en^vr the wise man at-
tacks. We have already explained what idea we
affix to his expressions^ but as they are vague and

1«36 IMAGINARY SC£[£M£S

indeterminate^ they must be first of all restrained
by the nature of the subjects, of which he speaks^
and secondly explained by the place they occupy.

1. When the wise man says, that which hath
been, is that zvhich shall be, he doth not mean to
attribute a character of firmness and consistency
to such events as concern us. No man ever knew
better than he the transitoriness of human affairs :
but it is not necessary to our knowledge of the sul>
Ject to occupy a post as eminent as that which he
held ; for a superficial view of the condition of pub-
lic bodies, and of that of individuals, will be suf-
ficient to open a wide field to our reflections.

Thecondition of public bodies is usually found-
ed on materials so brittle, that there is no room to
be astonished at sudden and perpetiial variations.
A spectator young in his observations, and distant
from the central point, is amazed at the rapid
changes, which he beholds suddenly take place like
the creation of new worlds : he supposed whole
ages must pass in removing those enormous masses,
public bodies, and in turning the current <rf pros-
perity and victory. But should he penetrate into
the spring of events, he would soon find that a very
small and inconsiderable point gave motion to that
lyheel, on which turned public prosperity, and pub-
lic adversity, and which gave a whole nation a
new and different appearance.

Sometimes all the wise counsels, the cool delibe-
rations, the well concerted plans, that constitute
the prosperity of a nation, proceed from the pru-
dence of one single head. This one head represses^
the venality of one, and the animosity of another,
the ambition of this man, and the avarice of that.
Into this head one single vapor ascends ; proispe-
rity relaxes it; death strikes it off. Instantly ^i
new world arises, and then that which w^s no

OF HAPPINESS. 137

more, for with that head well concerted measures,
cool deliberations, and wise counsels, all vanished
away.

Sometimes the rare qualities of one single gene-
ral animate a whole army, and assign to each mem-
ber of it his proper work, to the prudent a statioti
which requires prudence, to the intrepid a st^tioij^
which requires courage, and even to an idiot i
place. where folly and absurdity have their Oi^
From these rare qualities a state. derives the glory
of rapid marches, bold sieges, desperate attacks^
complete victories, and shouts of triumph. This
general finishes his life by his own folly, or is sup-
planted by a party cabal, or sinks into inaction on
the soft down of his own panegyrics, or a fatal bul-
let, shot at random and without design, penetrates
the heart of this noble and generous man. Instantly
a new world appears, and that which was is no
more; for with this general victory, and songs of
triumph expired.

Sometimes the ability and virtue of one single
favorite enable hiin to direct the genius of a prince,
to dissipate the enchantments of adulation, to be-
come an antidote against the poison pf flattery, to
teaeh him to distinguish sober applause from sel&
interested encomiums, and to render him acces-
sible to the complaints of widows . and orphains.
This favorite sinks into disfavor, and an artful > ivai
steps into his place. Rehoboam neghcted the.ad*
vice of prudent old counsellors, and followied the
suggestions of inconsiderate youth.. Any one of
theise changes produces a thousand consequ^nce^^.

It would be easy to repeat of individuals what
we have affirmed of public bodies, . that h^ that
the world is a theatre in perpetual motion, and
always varying ; that every day, and in a doiaa^
ner, every moment, exhibits some new scene^ som^
VOL. y. s

138 IMAGIKAfLY SQI£M£S

QbaQge Qf decoration. It is thepi clear^ tlia( ^
proppsitibu ia the text ougut to \^ restrs(in^(l to
the nature of the subject spoken of.

% JP|ut the§!e indeterminate words^ that which
hath been shall be, and th^re is no i^ew thing un-
der the sun, must be explained by the place they
occupy. 0.ur chief guide to determi?^? th^ ni^eao-
yig of some vague propositions ol an author, is to
examine \vbere t^.e placed them^ and what precise
idea he ijiad in bis npiind when he wrote them. By
observing this ruie, we find, that the same phrases^
9.1;^ often takein in different senses. Withovit qu,9Jk-
ing o^ti^i; e:s^aQ[^ples, Mfe observe, that the words
undi^r co]|;isi,demion occur twice in this book, opjpe
in the text, s^nd agaip. in the 6ft,^enth verse of the
tj^ird chapter, Wbei;e we are taUj(, that tphich hath
heen is now\ dnd th^at which is to be, hath^ already
heen. However, it is certain, that tl^^se two sen-
tences, so much alike in sound, have a very different
meaning. The design of Solomon in the Ijatt^r
passage, is to inform such persons, as tremble at
t]he least temptation, that they were mistjakeii^
We complain, say they, that God exercises our
virtue more than he does that of other men, and
though he allows these rude attack^ yet he doth
not sifford us strength sufficient to resisft; tbem,
Jfo, saitti l^iomon, vvhatever variety th^re may
appear to be in the conduct of God towards, men^
yet there.is always a certain uniformity, that cha-
racterizes his conduct. Indeed he giveth $ve ta-
lents to. one, \yhile he commits only on^ ment to
another, and in this respect there is a variety. %VX
l|)ie doth not require of him, to whom hel)a|I) com-
mitted oQe talent, an account of more than, oui^
tisilent, while he calls him tp account for fiy^.talent^^
tp whom he committed five, and in this, inspect
there is a pe;;ig9t upUbrmity. ifi J^s^ cqftclpfitii and

6f kMMitisi. f Sb

M of tte te^. I knoib that wh)ifsi^er Ghi dbfh,
(tbei^ ite the words of S(>Idnti6ti) T knoib fUi
tvAaisoeter God dothy if skdll bb forever : nofhihg
tdh be put tb it, hor anp thifi§ takbn from it, 6M
God doth it that men should fear before him. Tfidt
which kdfh been, is nolo j? tind that teHIcA i> h he^
haih already beeri, and God re^uif-eth that ivhtch
is past.

But in our te:^t, the saiAe wor^s, the thirtg that
hath been is that xi)hich shall be, h^v6 a different
iti^aning. It is evident, b^ the platie, in whi6ft
^be ^ise m^ti put them, that he tkehd<^d t6 dedi^
the good ihings of this life, t6 tiialke the vanity of
theM appear, and tb con4inc6 fn^nSrj^'d, that Ho
devolutions can diitfige thfe chara:cter of \dmiy eis-
ibntial its their condition. The cbnnection 6f thk
words establishes ihb nli^ahing. From what events
do mankind exp^, saith he, ^o procure to theiftf-
j^elves k firm aYid solid hapji^ihess in this life ? What
efforts Can be here&fl^i^ made greater tifi'an what
have been itiade ? Yet what profit haih a iridn of
all his labor which he taketh under the stiri ? Orie
generatiorl passeth away, and bfiother generation
tometh, btit the world continueth the same, the
sun ariieth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth
to his place where he arose. The wind gdeth to'--
tbard the south, and turneth about unto the north,
arid the wind returneth again ddcording to his cir-^
caits. All rivers run into the sea, and zchenai
they come thither they return Ugaih, v6r. *— 7.
Tl^ ittOrai worid exactly resembles the world of
fllieur^. It is in vain to expect any vibissitude thai;
v^tf render the remaihiAg patt of life mote hii^pf
thata thie fbhtifer^. the eye is not sdtiifidd idifh
teeing,' ier. 6. or, as it may be transMfed, with
cofts^deHng; not the eHr filled with hearing, ov a^
the W6f^nl^ bl§ rMtfei^, the eaf neier ceHses

140 IMAGIKAKY SCHEMES

to listen. But this contention which makes ub
stretch ail our facuhies in seaich of something to
fill the void, that all past and present enjoyments
have left m our hearts, this doih not change the
nature of things^ all will be z;aM?Vj/ in future, as
all have been vanity in former times. The thing
whi h hath ben, is that which shall be i and that
which is done^ is that which hath been done : and
there is no new thing under the sun.

Weigh these words, my brethren, the eye is not
satisfied with seeing, nor the ear .filled with hear-
ing. It seems, this is precisely the disposition of
mind which the wise man attacks, a disposition
as I said before, cc^mmon to mankind, ^nd one of
the principal causes of our immoderate attachment
to Hfi^. Let each of us study his own heart, and
let us examine whether we know the portrait^ that
we are now going to try to sketch.

We often declaim on the vanity of the world ;
but our declamations are not unfrequently more in-
tended to indemnify pride, than to express the ge-
nuine feelings of a hieart disabused. We love to
declaim against advantages out of our reach^ and
we take \engeance on them for not coming within
our grasp, by exclaiming against them, But such
ideas as these, how just soever they may appear^
are only superiicial. It would be a fatal error in-
deed to persuade ourselves that we are really un-
deceived, an<l consider the world in ^ trpe point of
li^ht on this account.

A dying man is all taken up with his' then pre-
sent condition. A desire of health occupies all the
capacity of his soul : but he does not pbserve that,
ahould he recover, he >a ould find the sanie troubles
and pains as before, and on account of which he
has felt so much uneasiness, and shed so many
tears. A man waiting oi^th^ coast to go abroad^

. . ^ii^aiMtimim^ J.<

OF HAPPINESS. 141

Wishes for nothing but a fair wind, and he does not
think that he shall find other, and perhaps greater
calamities, m another climate, than those which
Gpmpelled him to quit his native soil. This is an
image of us all ; our minds are limited, and when
an object presents itself to us, we consider it only
in one poinf of view; in other lights we are not
competent to the examination of it.

Hence the interest we take in some events, in
the revolutions of states, the phenomena of na-
ture, and the change of seasons; hence that per-
petual desire of change ; hence sportive phantoms,
incessantly created by our imaginations ; hence
chimerical projects for ever revolving in our minds,
or, as the wise man expresseth it, eyes never sa-
tisfied with seeinSy and ears never filled with
hearing, O, said one, could I get cured- of this
illness, which renders life a burthen— could I, says
another, get free from the company that poisons
all my pleasures — could I go, says a third, and
settle in a country, where maxims and laws alto-
gether diflFerent from those under which 1 live—
could I but obtain that place, which would take
ine out of the obscurity, in which I am buried
alive, and render me conspicuous — could I tequire
a sufficient fortune to support a certain number of
domestics, and to procure me certain accomtno^
dations, then in retirement and silence X':wduld
gratify the desire, that alone animates m^> of em«
ploying my life in a pursuit of wisdom and virtue,
and happiness ! Poor mortals, will you always run
phantoms ! No, it is ndt any of the revolutions you
so earnestly desire, can alter the vanity essential
to human thin^ with all the advantages which
you^O:earnestly desire, you would find yourself as
void and as discontented as you are now. Tht
thing whifh hath been^ is that which shall ^e s^

149 IMAOINART S6H£M£S

and that which is done^ is that which shall ^
done : and therS is no ntw thing Under the sun.
O that it were as easy to itnpritit these truths oil
our hearts, as it is td give evidence thai they Atib
truths to the judgment !

II. Let us endeavor to admit these truths with
all their effects, (and this shall be the se^otitd ppttt
of our discourse) let us stttempt th^ work, thohgh
we have so many reasons to fear a want of suc-
cess. Let us first examine the destinfaetion of maif-^-^
ne36t let us look into the school of the #orld— ^
then into the experifence of Solbmon — sKrid IsMtty^
let us review the history of ot<r own lives. Thes^
are four barriers againt imagmary projects ; fouf
proofs, or father four sources of demon&rt>attdni( rn
evidence of the trnth of the text. The thing thai
bath been^ is that which shall be s and that which
is done^ is that which shall be done : and there is
no new thing under the sUn.

1 . Let ts first observe the appointment of man,
and let us not form schemes' opposite to that of our*
Creator. When he placed us ih this world, he did
not intend to confine us to it : but when he formed
ns capable of happiness, he intended that we shonlif
seek it in an econoiviy different frotn this. With-^
out this principle man is an inexplicable enigma ;
his faculties and his wishes, his afStctions and his
conscience, his life and hisr death, every tbinjg^
that concerns man, is obscure, and- beyond alt
elucidation.

His faculties are enigmaHeal. Tell us, what is
the end and design of the faculties of man ? Why
hath he the faculty of knowing ? What, is it only
to arrange a few words in his memOhy ? Only to'
know the sounds or the pictures, to^ which'diveWf'
nations of the world have assoCiMdd their idielur? w

W HABKIH£9S. |4S

it merely to Iram Greek and Hebrew, to o oiled a
cbdos of aacieut history, to go beyond remote
ages, and to discover with some degree of proba-
ferUity, wl^t weife the habits, the customs, and the
follies of the first inhabijtants of this universe ?"
Hath man inteHigence only for the purpose of rack-^
mg his brain, and losing himself in a world of ab-
stractions, in order to disentangle a few questions
from metaphysical labyrinths, what is the origin
of ideas, what are the properties^ and what is the
iiature of spirit ? Glorious object oif knowledge from
an. intelligent being ! An object in general more
likely to. produce scepticism than demonstration o£
a science properly so called. Let us reason in like
lAaxmer on the other faculties of mankind.

His dcsiresi are prpblematical. What power can
fX9diQa^t% what power can moderate his desire to
^tend and perpetuate his duration ? The human
b^art includes in its wish the past, the present, the
li^tttre^ yea eternity itself. Explain to us, what
pCQporti0p.thi^re caabe between the desires of man
and the wealth which he accumulates, the honors
he porsuies, the sceptre in his hand^ and the crown
^ahiahead?

Hj^ miseries are enigmatical. This article open»
9iniQj:e aisiple field of meditation than the former,
^r. tbjgt. pleasures of* mankind are only a point,
Qply an atom» in comparison of the miseries which
p^riilii^ and.overtake him. Who can reconcile the
dPQtrine of % good God with that of a miserable
man, with the doubts that divide his mind, with
t)m* reoiorse that gnaws his heart, with the uncer-
Unties that torment him, with the catastrophes
that envelope him, with the vicissitudes which are
nlwoys altering hia situation, with the false friends
M^ia. beteay him, with pain that consumes him^
with, indigence that contracts hint, with neglect

14i4 IMAGINARY SCHEMES

and contempt which mortify him, and with sQch a
nuoiber of other inconveniencies and calamities as
conspire to embitter bis existence.

His life is a mystery. What part, poor man,
what part are you acting in this world ? Who mis*
placed you thus ?

His death is enigmatical. This is the greatest
of all enigmas ; four days of life, a life of sixty or
an hundred years, is all that this creature called
man bath to expect in this woJd; be disappears
almost as soon as he makes his appearance, be ig
gone in an instant from the cradle to the cofBn3
his swaddling bands are taken off, and bis shroud
is put on.

Lay down the principle which we have advanc-
ed, grant that the great design oif the Creator, by
placing man amidst the objects of this present
world, was to draw out and extend bis desires zStet
another world, and then all these clouds vanish,
all these veils are drawn aside, all these enigmas ex**
plained ; nothing is obscure, nothing is problemar
tical in man.

ViXs faculties 9xe not enigmatical ; the faculty
of knowing is not confined to such vain science as
be can acquire in this world. He is not placed
here to acquire knowledge, but virtue, at least he
is placed in thi^ world to acquire knowledge only
so far as coQtributes to the acquisition of virtue. If
he acquire virtue, he will be admitted into another
world, where his utmost desire of knowledge will
be gratified.

His desires are not mvsterious. When the law$
of order require him to check and control his wishes,
let him. restrain them. When the profession of re-
ligion requires it, let him. deny him elf agreeable
sensations, and let him patiently buffer the cross,
tribulations, and persecutionjSf. Let him^ubduehis

OF HAPPIMESSv 145

passion for elevation and grandeur, and let him
humbly rest in that mean situation wher6^ it hath
pleased providence to place him. Let him mode-
rate his love of riches, and let him piatiently subr
mit to poverty and indigence. After he shall have
thus submitted to the laws of his Creator, he may
expect another period, in which his desires to be
great will be satisfied.

His miseries are no more enigmatical ; they ex-
ercise his virtue, and will be rewarded with glory.

His lije ceases to be mysterious. It is a state
of probation, a time of trial, a period given him to
make choice of an eternity of happiness, or an eter-
nity of misery.

His death is no longer a mystery, audit is impos-
sible that either his life or his death should be etA^
mas, for the one unfolds the other. The life of maki
is not an enigma, because it tends to death, and
death verifies, proves and demonstrates the idea
we have given of life.

We conclude then, that the destination of man
is one great barrier against imaginary schemes
of happiness. Change the face of society ; sub«
vert the order of the world : put despot ical govern^
ment in the place of a democracy ; peace in the
place of war, plenty in the place of scarcity, and
you will alter nothing but the surface of human
things, the substance will always continue the
same. The thing, that hath been, is thai which
shall be s and that, which is done, is that which
shall be done : and there is no new thing under
the sun.

2. The school of the world opens to us a second
source of demonstrations. Enter this school, and
you will renounce all vain schemes of felicity.

There you will learn that the greatest part of the
pleasures of the world, of which you entertain such

VOL. V. T

146 IMAQlVAtLY SCHEMES

fiae nbtkmsy are only phantoms, which seem in>
deed afc a distance to have some solidity and con-
sistence, but. which vanish the moment you ap-
ptiToaoh and try^ to enjoy them.
. , There ym will learn that the extensive views,
Ib^. great designs, the plans of immortality and
glory, which revolve in the mind of an ambitious
man^ keep him continually upon the rack, trouble
his repose, deprive him of sleep, and render him
insenaible to tdl the pleasures of life.
. lliere you will understand that the friends, who
attach themselves to us when we have favors to be-
stow, are venal souls, who put up their esteem to
auction, and seU it to the highest bidder ; blood-
suckers who live upon the substance of those^
ipUAd whom they twist and twine ; that the sa-
cred names of fnend^ip, tenderness^ zeal, and
devotedness^ are nothing in ti^ir mouths but empty
sounds, to which they affix no ideas.

There you will find that those passions, which
men of high rank have the power of fully gratify^-
mg, are sources of trouble and remorae> and that
2i\ the pleasures of gratification is nothing in com-
parison of the pain of one regret caused by the
lemembrance of it.

There you will learn tiiat the husbandman, who
all day follows the plough or the cart, and who
finds at home in the evening a femily of love,
wh^re innocent and affectionate children surround
a table furnished with plain and simple diet, is in-
<;omparibly more happy than the &vorite of vic-
tory- and fortune, who rides in a superb carriage
attended by a spl^idid retinue, who sits at a table^
where art and nature seem to vie witl^ each oth^
in lavii^ing out their treasures, who is surrounded
with courtiers watching their &te in the cast of hi^
eye» ocifebesigQal q£ luiihand*

OF HAPFI»E». m

In a word) you mil there underttt^ad, that wbat
may seem the most fortunate OTQuts in youi^ ^fkrOc
will contribute very little to yotir happiness. '• >

3* But if the school of the world : is cdp^ble' of
teaching us to renounce our fanciful\projiect$offe^
licity, Solomon is the man iii the world th^ ttipst
learned in this schooU and'the most able to ^ve: u^
intelligence. Accordingly we have mad0 hi^de^
elaration (the third source of our demon^atioi^a* •;

When you^ preachers declaim lEtgdufi^tthe.vanitjf^
of human things, you secretly say to yottivselvfes^
their judgment merits very little regard.- \\> You
think that they, generally educated in^bil^nce^aiKl
retirement, having breathed 01% th^dust^^aif/of
sctoals and libraries^ «re unacquainted with. ti^
world against which they declaim. ; I w}U n^t now
examine this reproach. People of ptir order, i
grant, are very apt to form fhlse ideas of the .ik^oisW
But take our word for one truth/ for wbioh wo
could allege a thousand pro<^, that is, thai if thdy
magnify worldly objects, it is because they: are
strangers to the world. A hermit, who hath spedtk
all his days in dens and deserts; a nun. sequestered
from society in her childhood^ and buried in th(|
cells and solitary walks of a convent ; a mauy who
hath grown grey over his books ^ people of this
kind ^generally imagine that the world is full of
pleasiure, and that the demon of voluptu^uaness
hath strewed all the paths with flowers and ^per**
fbmes in favor of such as travel them. X kntow no
one more proper to teach us a good course'Cff mor
ralifty than an old reformed ^coi^ier^ Wt^ .ohooses
to fietire after he hath spent: th* prkneofhislifii in
ciiasipatioa.

( \ ■. I ■

On this prmciple, what an impressiool^kight.the
aedaratioR of Salomon to make on our imMbi
But what an idea doth he giw us of aU the good

I4S IMAGINARY SCHEMES

things^ of Whidi he had made an experiment ?
Ana- this alsoy saith he of each particular^ in the
catalogue of the wlK)le, and this also is vanity.
Thiii«word seems to me very remarkable, this also^
and ^th /jp also is vanity.

>(f^vKrihen are so fascinated with the world as not
t& know'that some things in it are vain and vexa-
tibuSi'' ^ Mo^t men say of some particular object
thi&is vanity : but very few are so rational as to
edtfl|irehend all the good things of this^ife in the
same dass^ and to say of ea^h, as Solomon did^
ihis^also is vanity. A poor peasant, whose ruinous
tottalfi^ doth -not keep out the weather, will readily
say, my cottage js vanity : but he imagines, there
is4Kgtieat ^al of solidity in the happiness of him,
who i^tee{>8^itt a superb palace.' .A man, who ib
Admitted olfly into a small circle of company hardly
kiio^n 111 * society^ will say without hesitation,' my
oii^le^ii^ Vanity r * but he fancies there is a great deal
of (solidity in th)$bitppinesfl of those, who are ad^
mitt^^into^iroles, or shall I rather say, into that
chaos, 'Urberejewis and greeks, barbarians and scy-
thjans, ='peopier:of all nations, and of every reli-
gion? iseem^o contribute to a general disorder and
confu&^Yi? ' •

"■> Sotomon knew all these conditions of life, and it
wais beoaose he kilew them all that he declaimed
agakist th^ : and had you like him known them
all by inexperience, you would form such an idea
as he did! of the whole. : See what a list h^ makes,
and observe, -he says t^iat of each; which he said of
the whole^ This also is vanity. What ! Is it vain
to pbjsseas^great riches ? Yes, He that loveth silver
shall not be satisfied with silver ; this is also va-' '
nityj ;> .What ! Js ^t in vain to become tt celebrated
authoTj ai model of erudition? Yes, saitfa be, of
making many books .; M^r^ i> tH) end, and much

OF HAPPIKE99. 149

study is a weariness of the flesh. This also is vor
nitjf. Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher^ all
is vanity.

4. To reflections on the experience of Solomon
add your own, and to this purpose recollect the
history of your life. Remember the time when
sighing and wishing for the condition in which prof-
vidence hath since placed you, you considered it as
the centra of felicity, and verily thought could
you obtain that state you should wish for nothing
more. You have obtained it. Do you think now
as you did then ?

You, who formerly had hardly enough to subsist
tm, now possess enough for your subsistence, and
almost enough for your wishes, have you less inclir
nation now to augment your superfluities, than
you had then to acquire a maintenance ?

You, who have been raised from the meanest
and most obscure employment in society to one of
the most conspicuous and brilliant offices, Ao you
feel yourself less disposed to have no equal, than
you did formerly to have fewer masters ?

You, who are now come to manhood through a
sickly youth, in which you did not expect to live
half your days, have you less desire to arrive at a
hoary old age, than you had formerly to advance
to manhood ?

; Realize all the fanciful schemes of happiness, that
revolve in your minds, and you will, find that the
good things you acquire will leave you as hungry,
and as void as these do which you now actually pos-
sess ; and that the more you enter into the spirit of
this supposition the more will you be astonished at
the exact conformities there are between condi-
tions, which at first sight appear to you so extreme-
Jy diflferent.

150 IMAGINARY SCHEMES

III. Frota all these reflectioaa what consequences,
shall we draw ? That all conditions are absolutely
equal ? That as they, who actually enjoy the most
desirable advantages of life, ought to consider
them with sovereign contempt, so people, who are
deprived of them, ought not to take any pains to
acquire them, and to better their condition ^ No,
my brethren, Grod forbid we ^ould preach a mo«
rality so austere, and so likely to disgrace religion.

On the one hand, they, to whom God hath
granted the good things of this life, ought to know
the value of them, and to observe with gratitude
the difference, which providence hath made be-
tween them and others. Worldly prosperity, t
granjt, is not the most substantial good, however
it is not an imaginary advantage : it is.not indeed
that permanait good, which will continue ours af-
ter death, but it is, however, capable of rendering
the present state more agreeable.

Do you enjoy liberty ? Liberty is a great good :
feel the pleasure of liberty. Behold the man, who
is inclosed in lofty and impenetrable walls, who
breathes only an infectious and unwholesome air,
who lies on straw in a dungeon, and who with the
utmost attention and pains can hardly perceive a
ray of light, and bless God that you are not in the
condition of that man.

Are you rich ? Wealth is a great good : enjoy the
pleasure of being rich. Behold the man loaded
with debts, destitute of friends, pursued by inex*
orable creditors, having indeed just enough to keep
himself alive to-day, but not knowing how he shall
support life to-morrow, and bless God you are not
in the condition of that man.

Do you enjoy your health ? Heidth is a great
good: relish the pleasure of being well. Observe
the man lying on a sick bed, unable to bear up a

OF HAPPIN£S$. 151

body loaded with infirmities, not able to move
himself, without excruciating sensations of pain,
crawling toward the grave by the horrible road of
the gout or the stone*

Nothing but a fund of stupidity or ingratitude
can render us insensible to temporal' blessings,
when it pleases God to bestow them on us. What !
Did you as soon as you opened your eyes see your-
self crowned with a thousand advantages ; did God
seem to take pleasure in making your condition a
composition of 4K>nor, wealth and pleasure; did
you find yourself without contributing to it the
least labor or attention, abundantly/ supplied with
every thing that can render life easy and deli-
cious I and, because, carry human felicity to what
pitch you will, there is nothing perfect in it, do
you give up yourself to grief and melancholy, does
a dark and gloomy temper within you triumph
over all the motives, that ought to inspire you with
gratitude and joy !

As they, to whom providence hath granted the
comforts of life, ought to know the value of them,
and to enjoy them with gratitude, so it is allowable,
yea it is the duty of such as are deprived of them
to endeavor to acquire them, to meliorate their
condition, and to procure in future a condition
more happy than that, to which they have hitherto
been condemned, and which hath caused them so
many difficulties and tears. Self-love is the most
natural and lawfiU of all our passions. Wi& ought
not to neglect to acquire any good, except the pos«
session of it would be incompatible with that of a
greater good, and we ought not consent to suffer
any ills, except enduring them would prevent
greater ills. But, other things being equal, every
one cpght to endeavor to procure himself an agree- •
able condition of life in this world.

15S IMAOIKARY SCHEMES

Beside, the love of our neighbor, the duty so
much enforced by our great lawgiver, the love
which our master requires us to extend as far to
our neighbor as ourselves, this duty engageth us to
avail ourselves of all the innocent means, which
are offered to us to acquire the good things of this
life. The more riches you have the more able wifl
you be to assist the indigent. The higher you are
elevated in society, the more will you hav6 it in
your power to succor the oppressed. The more
learning and knowledge, and accuracy you have,
the more will it be in your power to press home the
duties of religion, to defend the truth, and to dis*
play the beauty and advantage of virtue.

Our design, in restraining your projects, is to.
engage you patiently to b^ar the inconveniences of
your present condition, when you cannot remedy
them : because whatever difference there may seem
to be between the most happy and the most mise-
rable mortal in this world, there is much less, all
things considered, than our misguided passions
imagine.

Our design, in checking the immoderate incli-
nation we have to contrive fanciful schemes of hap-
piness, is to make you enjoy with tranquillity such
blessings as you have. Most men render them-
selves insensible to their present advantages by an
extravagant passion for future acquisitions. The
avidity, with which they wish to acquire more rich-
es, prevents their enjoying what they actually
possess ; the avidity, with which they desire to ob-
tain a station more elevated in society, prevents
their tasting the pleasure of that, in which provi-
dence hath placed them. In a word, our design
is to engage you to proportion the pains you take
to obtain worldly advantages to the true value of
them.

*v ._^L^

' 0> HAPPINESS. 15S

• Abcvve ail, the design, the chief design we have
in dehbun6ing a Vain and unsatisfactory being in
thb; world, IS to engage you to seek after a happy
futurity in the presence of God ; to engiage you to
expect from the blessings of a future state what
^ou cannot promise yourself in this. And what,
Hay soul, canst thou expect during the short period
of this life, if the remainder will resemble the past,
if in future years thy condition will resemble that
of the former days, if thou must pass through the
same vicissitudes, suffer the sania maladies, be
witness to the same injustice, see the same infide-
lity and the same perfidy ?

But if all mankind ought to preserve themselves
from the disorder of fancifiil schemes of future
pleasure, they above all are bound to do so, who
are arrived at old age, when years accumulated
bring us near the infirmities of declining life, or a
dying bed. Such a man ought to say to hims^Tf^
what can I henceforth expect in this world ? Should
an unheard of revolution happen in my favor,
should the face of the universe be changed, should
all the advantages of the world unite, and present
themselves to me, what benefit could I derive,
from them ?

What advantage could I derive from a weM fiir-
nished table, I whose palace hath lost the faculty of
tasting and relishing food ? What advantage could
I derive from a numerous levee, I, to whom com-
pany 'is become a burden, and who am in a man-
ner a burden to myself? What advantage could I
derive from elegant apartments, and extensive
landscapes, I whose eyes are incapable of discern-
ing objects, whose body almost motionless is con-
fined to an easy chair, or sick bed ? In one word,
what benefit can 1 reap from a concurrence of all
the advantages oi life, I, who am within a few

VOL. V. V

\5k IMAGIHARV BCHEMSS, &C.

steg6 of the gates of death ? Happy I When my
life coHi^s to an end, to be f^bl^ tp incorporate my
existence with that of the imiBprtal God ! Happy !
When I feel this earthly %a\>em9de sipti^ tp be able
to e:i(ercise thdtfyith, Which is^Bn evidence vf things
not ^e^;i / Happy to ascend to that city, which
hath foundations, whose builder and matker is
God ! Heb. xi. I. 10.

May we aU, piy dear brethren, live, grow old,
aqd die in these sentiments ! God grant us the
grace. To him be bpnpr and glory for ever. Amen,

' . i

J.

. . . • ■ :0

SERMON VII*

• > ■)

^ DISGUST WITH LIFE-

/

ECCLB81A5TES H. I?*

f :

ihaeifife^ kfidtst tie wo ft that a mou^ht under At suh is

gtidv&ut unto me"*

WERE we to estimate life by the idea, which
Solomon gives of it iti the words of the
te»*, it shouU seem, there was very little wisdom
jtiiot£C conglratuktting oneanotlier this morning^ oii
beginning a new yeiar. There should seem bettof
seasons for deploring our fete because we ai^e alire;
than for congratulating one another on thehiappi^
ness of seeing another new years day. Ye desat
late families, in which death hath made sux^B cHUel
breaches! Methinks, while this day n8*urally
brings ta your remembrance those dtear piarts 6£
yout^etres, jou' ought rather to shed tears of joy
lihai!i of sorrow ! And you, Rachely teeeping for
Jbw chUdr'en'y yeu^ ought vBXhdVy to be cofhf or (ed
for the chihdrtfi tha* are, than for thosfe that ' ate
not: It should seein, that the l^nediction^ of the
servant of Ood, Who preceded US' this ihomihg ih
this pulpiit, and to Which we are going t6 join ours,
W^re very uni^tabte to the tender aflfectidn we.

• I

I^iPf^hErfcWftlw ftrstdajjctf tbejeaf, 17^.<.

166 DISGUST WITH LIFE.

ow?you, anii to which this "sblenanff y adOi sTftetSr
degree of activity and force.

Ix)ng may you live, said we this morning to one
another, may God bless you, your fellow citizens,
your relations, your friends, and your children,
long may they live ! Enjoy the blessings of peace,
prosperity in commerce, stability in freedom, riches
and plenty in abundance ! Attain, and, if it be
possible, go beyond the ustikl limits -of the life of
man, and may every day of that life be distinguish-
ed by some new prosperity. These were the be-
nedictions and prayers, which oiir friends uttered
tons and we. to them. And yet the wise, man
tells us that riches an4.plej^ty> that the best esta-
blished liberty and the most prosperous trade, that
th^ blessings pf peace and all the. ad^nt^ge^.ijf
tjWp life are nothing but vanity. Hi^.c^oth n^qb,
aii^er he had experienced all the pomp of, worldly;
grandeur, an ;iaimensity. of wealth, > the utmost j^-:
finement of ; pleasure, apd the ii^oi^t extensive re-
putatipn, after lie had been the happiest mortal^:
that ever livied upon ear,th, he tells us in the words
pf thei^xtf I hated llffi, because the xvork that i^
wrought fuuder the sun^ is grievous ujifpme^ ,
V Whaitrthen,. tnust we re^^oke the congratulations
of jthis n^ornin^ ? Po we cometo pray QqA to s^nd
out hR .d^tfoying;angels, to retpm.us that mor-
tality, >«hich hath been, ra^v^ging our towns and
provinces? are we QQipe J;o CQllect all oijir prayers
ixitfO this one : :of Jon^h^ O jLord take ^ I beseeiih
ihee^ ? V^^tif^^frqm me,^ fpr \it is better for me to
4ie thian 4^ livey <;hap. ivp 3. or in. this pf Elij^,
Itifirenpvgh^ now^P jLor4, take, away :my life,
/or M^M'Pot^betterr^S^n my fathers] 1 Kings
xix. 4.

It is this contrast, of ideas that we will endea-
Tor tor^tieUdf for-k]^ 1^ we

DISGUST WITH LIFE. • 157

are going to <»nsider the words of the text, and
to treat of disgust with the world and contempt of
life. . Happy ! If we be able by any observations
of ours to abate the asperity of your minds in re*
gard to the hateful things of life, and to engage
you to make a holy use of every thing agreeable in
it. Happy ! if, bjr turning your attention to the
amiable side of life, we may inspire you with gra-
titude to God for preserving it, in spite of the ma-
ny perils to which it is exposed ; and if, by shewing
you the other side, we may incline you to quit it
with joy, whenever it shall please God to require
it. This is the substance of all our acclamations
and prayiers m your favor to-day. Almighty and
most ioierciful God, condescend to ratify in heaven
what we are sincerely endeavoring to effect on
earth ! Amen.

I suppose, it is Solomon himself who speaks the
words of the text, and not any one of the inter-
locutors, whom he introduces in his book. I sup-
pose he expresses in the words his own sentiments,
and not those of any other person ; and that be
tells us not what he thought while his reason was
wanderings and he was pursuing the vanities of the
we^ld, but what he thought after his recovery, and
when he was under the direction of divine wisdom.

This observation is absolutely necessary for the
Understanding of the text. The great difficulty of
the book of Ecclesiastes, is owing to the great va-
Fiety of personsj who are introduced there, ^each
df whom proposes maxims conformable to his own-
principles. . Is it the same man, who says in one
fAsLce, Go thy way, eat thy bread with Joy, a?id-
drink thy wine with a merry heart. Live joijfully'
allttie days of thy vanity, for that is thy portion
in this ilijfh, and God now accepteth thy works^^
ehap. ' ix..: 7^9* And in another place. Rejoice, O

IS8 DISGUST VlTa LIFE.

young man in thy youth j and walk in the ways of
thy heart : but know thoUy that for all these things
God will bring thee into judgment f chap. xi. 9.
Is it the same man, who saith in one place^ / com^
mend mirths because a man hath no' better thing
under the smi than to eatj and to drink and to be
merry, chap, viii* 15. and in another jJace, / said
of laughter it is mads and of mirth, ti^hat doefk
it ? cbstp. ii. S. Is it the same man, who ssaitb ia
one place. The dust shall return to the earth as
it was, and the spirit shall return untd God whof
gave it, chap. xii. ?• ^uad in another place,- The
dead have no more a reward, for the memory of
them is forgotten : to him that is joined to all the
living there is hope, but the dead know not any
thing, for a Hving dag is better than a dead lionJf
chap. IK. 4, &c.

Expositors of this book, perhaps^ have not al-/
ways paid a sufficient attention to this variety*
Which of us hath not, for example,: quoted against
the doctrine of invocation of sainta these words^
The living know that they shall die, but the dead
know not any thing ; their love and their hatred ir
now perished, neither have they any more a por^
Hon for ever in any thing that is done under the
sun ? chap, ix, 5, 6k Yet I think we have suC'
ficient reasons to presume, that the wise man puts
these words into the mouth of a libertine, so that
though they contain a truth, yet they cannot be
proposed in proof of a doctrine. I suppose we must
entertain the same idea of another passage, which
seems to establish one of the finest maxims of mo-
rality> Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it
wHh thy might, for tliere is no work, nor device,
nor knotoledge, nor wisdom' in the grave whither
thou goest,\ ichap. ix. 10. But if you consider, that
this is a consequence drawn firom. the iron/ justi he^

OTflGlTST WITH Lira. 159

fore, Goi eat thy bread toith joyy and drink thy
wine with a merry hearty ver. 7. yoa will suppose,
0$ we do, tiiat it contains a pernicious maxim, like
that mentioned by the prophet, let us eat and
drinks for to-morrow we shall die, Isa. xxii. 13*

There are other inspired books, as well as thif
of Ecclesiastes, subject to the same misinterpreta*
tion. Under pretence that the scripture is divine*
ly inspired, people quote texts indiseriminately.
Certainly it is divinely inspired, and for this rea-
son we should always reject such maxims as would
tend to defeat the design of it* Without this pre-
caution you may prove by scVipture things the
most opposite to the design of scripture; you may
prove that God hath violated his promises, because
it is said in scripture, where is the promise'of his
coming ! Or you may prove that atheism is prefer-
able to religion^ because the scripture saith, there
is no God ; and so by a hundred otlier passages
you may prove a hundred similar absurdities.

But the connection of our text with preceding
and following verses, and its perfect harmony with
the design of the wise man, which was to decry
the world and its pleasures, and by his own expe-
rience to undeceive «uch as made idols of them,
confirm, in my opinion, the judgment we have
formed of them ; the whole authorizes us to con-
sider the words as proceeding from the mouth of
Solomon himself, expressive of his own sentiments^
and not those of others, and what he thought after
bis .reconversion, and not what his opinion was
during his dissipation.

I. On this principle, we will first rid the text of
several /a/^e meanings, which it may seem at first
sight to countenance ; for as there is a disgust
with the world, and a contempt of life, which wis*

160 DISGUST WITH UF15.

dom inspires, so there is a hatred of the world,
that ariseth from evil dispositions. We may be
disgusted with life from a principle of melancholy
- — ^from a principle of misanthropy — ^from a prin-
ciple of discontent — and, which is still more singu-
lar, we may be disgusted with the world through
an excessive esteem for the world, and hate life
through a too violent attachment to it.

1 . We aisy hate life because we are melancholy^
Only he, whose ideas are disconcerted by a dark
and gloomy temper, can say fully and without
qualification, / hate life. To attribute such a dis-
position to the wise man is to insujt the Holy Spirit
who animated him. All the advantages of life, 1
grant, cannot procure us perfect happiness^ yet
every one may procure us some satisfaction, tran-
sient but reaJ, provided we enjoy each with such
moderation as wisdom prescribes. Instead of ex-
claiming in melancholy mood against society.
What friends ! What friendships ! Enjoy the in-
nocent pleasures of society, and you will find that
they can contribute to suspend your pain, to dis-
sipate your anxieties, and to relieve your wearisome
attention to your misfortunes. Instead of exclaim-
ing against fortune, and saying, riches and hdnorSy
what are they good for ? fenjoy, as far as justice
and benevolence will allow, tlie advantages of for-
tune, and you will experience that they may pro-
cure you some agreeable accommodations, which
you are permitted, yea comnwmded to relish. In-
stead of exclaiming against reputation, and say-
ing, what doth it signify to be knozvny and es-
teemed among mankind f Enjoy the advantages of
reputation, and you will experience some satisfac-
tion in being respected by intelligent persons in
society. Though, in general, the world is unjust
in estimating ability and virtue, yet there are many

DISGUST WITH LIFE. 161

tationd members of society, who know how to
distinguish gold from tinsel, and real ability from
parade.

2. Some are disgusted with life from a principle
of misanthropy. W hat is a misanthrope, or a hater
of mankind ? He is a man, who avoids society only
to free himself from the trouble of being useful to
it. He is a man, who considers his neighbors only
on the side of their defects, not knowing the art of
ijombining their virtues with their vices, and of
rendering the imperfections of other people tolera-
ble by reflecting on his own. He is a man more
employed in finding out and inflicting punishments
on the guilty than in devising means to reform'
them. He is a man, who talks of nothing but
banishing and executing, and who, because he
thinks his talents are not sufficiently valued and
employed by his fellow citizens, or rather because
they know his foible, and do not choose to be sub-
ject to his caprice, talks of quitting cities, towns
and societies, and of living in dens or in deserts.
Intercourse with mankind is disagreeable, you say.
Very well, I grant it. But do you know what
would make it infinitely more disagreeable ? I will '
tell you. It would be, if all the members of so-
ciety were aniniated with your spirit. What a so-
ciety would that be, which should be composed of
people without charity, without patience, without
condescension?'

My text doth not inculcd.te such sentiments as
these. The wise man had met with a great many
disagreeable events in society which had given him
a great deal of pain, but, far from being driven
out of it, he continued to reside in the world, and
to amend and improve it by his wise counsel and
good example. Read the book of Proverbs, and
this of Ecclesiastes, and observe how he endeavors

VOL. v. X

I6i DISGUST WLTH LIFE.

to preserve society from damage by exposing the
snares, into which he himself had fallen. Behold^
being converted himself he endeavors to strengtliin
his brethren^ 9LXid,to teach transgressors the ways
of God ! How accurately doth he describe all con-
ditions of life ! With what charity doth he conde-
scend. If I may venture to speak so, firom the
cedars of Lebanon to the hyssop upon the walls
so that there is no profession so mean, nor any
man so obscure in his profession, that he doth not
either direct or improve. Disgust with the world
should never prevent our assisting the inhabitants
of it, and our coptempt of life should always be.
accompanied with charity for the living.

3. Sometimes a spirit of discontent produces
disgust with the world, audconteoppt of life. To
bear the people I mean, one woul4 think it was
impossible that this world should be governed by a
wise being, because, forsooth, they are doomed
with the rest of mankind to live in a valley of trou-
ble. But who art thou, thou miserable man, to
conceive ideas so false^ and to form opinions so
rash ! Learn to know thyself, and to do thyself
justice ! If thou shouldst be required by the rigo-
rous judgment of God to expiate thy crimes, it
would not be in the vanity of this world, it would
bie in the flames of hell ! It would not be in the so-
ciety of men, faithless in trade, inconstant in
friendship, insipid in conversation, troublesome in
applications, perfidious in c ntracts, it would be
in the society of the devil anu !S angels ! It would
not be in the narrow compass of this life, the. bre-
vity of which may be justly compared to a vapor,
lost in the air, a flower fading in the sun, a dream
vanishing in the morning, it would be in a succes*
sion of ages, in the boundless gulfs of eternity.

4. I said finally, my brethren, that we are some-

DISGUST WITH LIFfi. I6S

times disgusted with the world through an excess of
fondness for the world, and hated life through an
over valuation of it. O heart of man, deceitftd
above all things^ and desperately wicked ! Jer.
xvii. 9. Who would not think, to hear some mert
exclaim, Ah human life, I only wish to free my-
self from thy connections J and thou, wicked world,
I detest thee ! Who would not think that these
people were convinced of the vanity of the world;!
But undeceive yourselves. Man enters the world
as ah enchslnted place. While the charm- lastiirj
the man I speak of is in raptures, and thinks he
hath found the supreme good. He imagines thdiC
riches have no wings, that splendid fortune hath n6
reverse, that the great have no caprice, that friends
have no levity, that health and youth are etehial :
but as it is not long before he recovers his senses^
he becomes disgusted with the world in the sfame
proportion as he had been infatuated i^tb it, and
his hatred of life is exactly as extravagant a9 YAh
love of it had been : that is to say, these senti-
ments, which seem so just and respectaUe,^do not
proceed from serious reflections on the views, which
an immortitt soul ought to have : that Irto say,
you would have consented to renounce alt ^^Apes of
future happiness, and to be for ever separated fiV)m
God; had'tiot the spring of your lifi^ pasEsc^laivi'ajr
with so much rapidity, had your comectibn^ Ix^en
more durable, had your interest at coijrt been'b^t*
ter supported. '^

How pitiable is your condition I In ityou*u!tit^
the misfortunes of time with the miideries of ete^
nity. You disclaim both heaven tuMi earth, yoii
are disgusted with the vanity of cue;' and you haVe
no taste for the other. A worldKng indemnifies
himself by present enjoyments for the loss df- ^
tare bliss, of tvhich be hath no prospect';^ aiid'ii

164 DISGUST WITH LITE.

christian indemnifies himself by enjoying pleasures
. in prospect for the loss of sensual delights : but
you !. At what do you aspire ? Your condition is
the height of misery, as it is the height of .ab-
surdity.

It is not in any of these senses, that the wise
man saith, / hated life, because the work that is
wrought under the sun is grievous unto me. He
would have us understand, that the earth hath
more thorns than flowers — that our condition here»
though incomparably better than we deserve, is
however inadequate to our just and constitutional
desires — that our inconveniences in this life would
seem intolerable, 'unless ^ we were wise enough to.
$iirect them to the s^me end, that God proposed
by exposing us. to suffer them — in a word,, that no*
thing but hope in a future state formed on^another
plan can. randqir the disorders of this world tolerar
ble. So much may ^ervje to explain the meaning
pf the wise man.

.: : . JI. Let u$ now proceed to justify the ^n,se giv-^
en, and to this. I shall devote the remainder of this
discoprse, and all the moments of at tent ioq, which
Ve shall; teke the liberty yet to require of you.
I J{yfill make use of no artifice to obtain my end.
I wUl not affect, in order to detach you froii^ the
worlds to exhibit only the odious things of the
wofl^ 5 nor will I combat an excessive love of life
by opposing against it the pains and the miseries of
^he;rliving; but J mean to attack your idols in
their, fort, decry life by shewing its most amiable
sides^ ^ai^d to endeavor to disgust yo\i with the
world by exposing the most desirable objects in it.
^. . .The phantoms, that seduced Solomon during his
dissripation, may bp reduced to two classes. The
^^r^ll^ suppose in the dissipated n^an very little know-

DISGUST WITH LIFE, 165

ledge, and very little taste ; and it is astonishing
that a man so eminently endowed with knowledge
coujd set his heart upon them. The second may
more easily impose on an enlightened and gene^
rous mind.- In tlie first class I place riches, gran-
deur and volaptuousness, with all their appendages.
If the3e be, as they certainly are, the most com-
mon idqls of mankind, it is for a reason inglorious
to thqm, it is because most men have very little
knowledge, and very little taste.

The world hath . phantoms more specious, life
bath >charais more capable of seducing a generous
heart, and of imposing on a liberal mind. I put
these into, three dosses. In the first I put the ad-
vantages of science — -in. the second the pleasures
qf friendship'— in the third the privileges, I mean
the temporal privileges, of virtue and heroism. J
will endeavor to. unmask these three figures, and to
prove tliat the veiry dispositions, which should cour
tribute most to the pleasures of life, mental abili-
ties, tenderness of heart, rectitude and delicacy
of conscience are actually dispositions, which con-
tribute most of all to imbitter life.

1. 1 Jf ever possessions could mdke men happy,
SolomoQ must certainly have been the happiest of
mankind. Imagine the most proper and the most
effectual means of acquiring knowledge, joined to
an avidity to obtain it, both were united in tha
person of this prince. We, individuals, when we
have received from heaven abilities fqr science, we
gei^erally want assistance to cultivate them. What
inclividuaj is able to send emissaries into different
climates to make observations to perfect geogra-
phy, physic, astix>nomy, botany, navigation ?. An
individual,, to make collections, to ^certain re-
ports, to procure materials, must carry on works,
^hich in a word, more properly belong to the

166 DISGUST WITH LIFE*

beiasts of burden of the leistrned world than to bim*
selfy whose time i^ould be better evaployed in ex-
6i<cising, and improving his own natural abilities.
An individual seldom hath it in his power to gaiti
access to the museums of great men^ and to pto*
cure the productions of their pens, or to consult
the oracles that proceed from their months. An
individual is often condemiled to turn th^ studies
that naturally employ his liberal mind into- a iii6r-
cenary trade the only means of providing bread
for himself and his family. In some protestant
stltte£( youth are but half educated for want of eii^
dowments, and people choose rather to pluck the
Unripe fruits of the finest genius than to furnish
hini with the mean^ of bringing them to perfection.
A kihg) a rich king like Solomon^ is free from all
the$e difficulties. He hath all tliHS assistance ne«^
oessary to the cultivation of bis mind, and to the
fhtl gratification of his avidity for science. He
saitb, what perhaps you have not sufficiently ob«
served, / turned mi/self to behold whdom, that is^
I applied myself to the sciencet^j and what can the
man do that comet h after the king} chap, iiv 12;
That is who will ever have such innumerable means
of acquiring and perfecting knowledge asthose^
with wtiich royal advantages furnish «aie ?

A'ccordkigly the world was filled with the science
of this prince, and his science hUh given docasion
to a great many fabulous histories. To hint* hath
been attributed a book entitled the contradiction
of Solomon y condemned by pope Gelasiiis, and
other works named enchantments^ • clavieulay «e-
cromajicif ideas^ neomania, letters to king HirOm.
Some ancient fathei^s thought, that the pagan phi-
losophers had read his writings, and that Aristotle
in particular had taken his his tort/ of animals from
the works of this prince. Josephus says, that he

DtfGUST WITfi LIFE, ]67

composed a book of charms to b^al the incurable,
and that one Eleazar, a Jew, bad found in it a se-
cret, by which he freed a person from possession,
a reverie inentioned by Origen. The schoolmen
have agitated a great many indiscreet question^h
concerning the sGience.of Solomon, and have in-
quired, whether he were more learnqd than the an*
gels and the virgin Mary ; and theyha-ve persuadr«
ed themselves not. only that he was a great poet^ a
great physician, and a great astronomer, but also
that he understood all the mysteries of the theolo-
gy of the schools, and was well acquainted with
the doctrine of transabstantiation*

We have better evidence of the science of So^
lomon than these visionaries. The scripture itself
informs us, that God gave him a wise and an un^
derstanding hearty so that there xvqs none lH$e
him before^ neither after him should any arise u$H^
hinif 1 Kihgs iiii 12. that he wsls zviser, that i^ a
greater philosopher, than all the children of thC'
east country^ and all the Egyptiatis^ chap. iv.
30, 31. By the children of the east we undei^
stand the Arabian philosophers, Chaldeans and the
Persians so famous for their erudition, and parti-
cularly for their profound knowledge of astronomy.
He was wiser than all the Egyptians^ that is, the
most consummate doctors of Egypti a country fa-
mous in the time of Moses for its literature, called
by the pagans the mother of arts, and who boast*
ed that they first of all men knew how to tdce di^
mensions of the stars, and to calculate tlieir mo^
tions, as Macrobius, Diodorus of Sicily^ and ma-
ny other authors affirm. The scripture saith that
Solpmon was wiser than Etham^ Hemnn, ChalcoU
and Darda ; names which the Jews understand
in a mystical sense, meanings by Ethan Abraham,
by Heman Moses, and by Qhalcol Joseph. The

168 DISGUST WITH LIFE.

scripture saith further, that he composed three
thousand proverbs, and a thousand and^five songs :
that he spake of trees, from the cedar tree that is
in Lebanon even unto the hyssop, that springeth.
out of the wall, also of beasts, and of fowl, and
of every creeping things, andofjishess ver. 32,
33. Some of these works are a part of the canon
of scripture, but the rest are lost.

Now what saith this great man concerning sct'^
ence ? He ackhowledgeth indeed that it was pre-
ferable to ignorance, the wise marCs eyes, saith he,
are in his head, that is a man of education is in
possession of some prudential maxims to regulate
his life, whereas an illiterate man walketh in dark^
ness, but yet siaith he if happeneth even to me, as
it happeneth to the fool, and why was I then wise ?
ver. 15. And again, the eye is not satisfied with
seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing ; for in
much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth
knowledge increaseth sorrow, chap. i. 8, 18. So
again, in another place, after he had proposed
some rules for the government of life, he adds.
My son be admonished by these, for of making ma-
ny books there is no end, and much study is a wea-
riness of the flesh, chap. xii. 12. I wish I could
weigh every expression. Observe however two im-
perfections of science.

1 . Observe first the little progress made in sci-
'ence by those, who pursue it to the highest pitch.

As they advance in this immense field they disco-
ver, shall I say new extents, or new abysses, which
they can never fathom. The more they nourish
themselves with this rich pasture, the more keen da
their appetites become. The eye is never satis-
fied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing, and of
making many books there is no end.

2. Remark next the little justice done in the

i?V

PISGUST WITB UPB. 169

world to sudi as excel most in scieBoe*. He that ith
€reaseth knoxdedge increaseth sorrovsy and it hap^
peneth even to me as it happeneth to a fool. Yes ! af-
ter yoa have spent all your youtb, after you have im-
paired your healthy afteryou haveq[>ent yourfwtune
to improve your own mind^ and to enable you to im-
prove those of other men, it will happen even to you
as it happeneth to a fool. You will be told, that
sciences have nothing in them that deserve thje at-
tention of a man of quality. A man c^ mean ex«
tractiim, who carries himself ISke a lord, will tell
you that a man of birth cmght to aspire at some*
thing more noble than meditating on qi^sticMMr of
law,<study]ng cases of conscience, and expiainmg
holy scripture. You will be told, that there is not
bm the knowledge required to sparkle in political
bodies, and to decide on a bench, the lives, and fbiv
tunes, and honors of mankind. Presumptuous
youths will judge, and without ajq>eal ^om^mn
your discourses and your publications, and will
pronounce with decisive tone, this is not solid, that
is super^cial / The superiority of your under-
standing will raise up against you a world of igno-
rant people, who win say, that you corrupt the
youth, because you would guard them against
pv^udice ; that you stab orthodoxy, Ibecause you
endeavor to hesd the wounds, whidi pedantry andi
intcderance have given it ; that you troij^le soeie*
tv, because you endeavor'to purify morality, and to
eb^ge the great as well as the small, magistrates!
as well as people to submit to itsttoly laws. They
will prefer before you both in the state and in the
church novices, who are hardly fit to be your dis-
ciples.

Blessed idiots ! You, who, surrounded with a cir-
cle cf idiots like yourselves, having first vtupified

VOL. V, T • •

M

170 DISGUST WITH LIFE.

yourselves with your own vanity, are how iiitbxi'
cated with the incense offered by your admirers ;
you, who, having collected a few bombastic phrases,
are spreading the sails of your eloquence, and. are
bound for the ocean of glory : you, whose sub-
lime nonsense, stale common-places, and pedan-
tic systems have acquired you such a reputation
for learning and erudition as is due only to real me-
rit : your condition seems to me often preferable to
that of first rate genius3es, and most accomplished
scholars ! Ah ! Wisdom is vaniiy and vexation of
spirit — of making many hooks there is no end — It
happeneth even to me as it happeneth to thefool-^.
There is no remembrarice of the wise more than
qf thefooly for all shall be forgotten — therefore
J hated life^ because the work that is wrought un--
der the sun is grievous unto me.

2. The second disposition, which seems as if it
would contribute much to the pleasure of life but
which often imbitters it, is tenderness of heart.
Let the sacred names of friendship and tenderness
never come out of some mouths ; let them never
be used by profane people to express certain con-
nections, which far from having the reality have
not even the appearance of rational sensibility !
Would you give these names to such vague unions
as are formed only because you are a burden to
yourselves ;,to connections in which the sentiments
of the heart have no share, in which nothing is in-
tended except the mutual performance of some ca-
pricious customs or the assuaging of some crimi-
nal passions, to the impetuosity of which you like
brute beasts are given up ? Would you give these
names to those unpleasant interviews, in which
wWle you visit you inwai'dly groan under the ne-
cessity of visiting, in which the mouth protests
what the heart denies, in which, while you out-

DISGUST WITH LIFE* 171

wardly profess to be affected with the misfortunes
of another, you consider them inwardly with in-
difference and insensibility, and while you congra-
tulate them on the prosperity, which providence
bestows on -them, you envy their condition, and
sometimes regard it with a maliee, and a madness,
which you cannot help discovering.

By friendship, and tenderness, I mean those a&
fectionate attachments produced by a secret sym-
pathy, which virtue cements, which piety sancti-
fies, which a mutual vigilance over each others in-
terests confirms with indissoluble, I had almost said
eternal bonds. I call a friend an inestimable treap-
sure which might for a while render our abode on
earth as happy as that in heaven, did not that wise
providence, that formed us for heaven and not for
earth, refuse us the possession of it.

It is clear by the writings of Solomon, and more
so by the history of his life, that his heart was very
accessible to this kind of pleasure. How often
doth he write encomiums on faithful friends! A
friehdy saith he, loveth at all timeSy he is a brother
born for adversity. A friend sticketk closer than
a brother, Prov. xvii. 17. andxviii. 24. But where
is this friend, who sticketh closer than a brother ?
Where is this friend, who loveth at all times ? One
would think the wise man drew the portrait only to
save us the useless labor of inquiring after the ori-
ginal. Perhaps you are incapable of tasting the
bitterness of friendship only because you are inca-
pable of relishing the sweetness of it.
. What friends do we make upon earth ? At first
lively, eager, full of ardor: presently dull, and
disgusted through the ease with which they had
been gratified. At first soft, gentle, all conde-
scension and compliance : presently masters, im-
perious tyrants, rigorously exacting as a debt . aa

17S DISGUST WITH LIFB.

aasidtiity which can arise only from inclinaltiony
pretending to domineer over our reason^ after they
have vitiated our taste. At first attentive and
teachable, while prejudices conceal their imperfec-
tions from us, ready to acquiesce in any thing while
our sentiments are conformable to their ipclina^
tions : but presently intractable and forward^ not
knowing how to yield, though we gently point out
their frailty, and endeavor to assist them to cor-
rect it. At first assidions, faithfiil, generous, while
fortune smiles on us : but presently, if she betray
US, a thousand times more faithless, ungrateful,
and perfidious than she. What an airy phantom is
human friendship !

I wish, however^ through the favor of heaven,
that what is only an airy nothing to other men
may be a reality in regard to you, and I will take
it for granted, that you have found what so many
others have sought in vain. Alas ! I must, yesp
here I must deplore your destiny. Multiplied, so
to speak, in the person of that other self, you are
going to multiply your troubles. You are going
to feel in that other sdf ills, which hitherto you
have felt only in yourself. You will be disgraced
in his disgraces, sick in his sickness. If for a few
years you enjoy one another, as if each were a
whole world, presently, presently death will cut
the bond, presently death will dissolve the tender
ties, and separate your intwined hearts. Then
you will find yourself in an universal solitude.
You will think the whole world is dead. The uni*
Verse, the whole universe will seem to you a desert
tininhabited, and uninhabitable. Ah! You, who,
experience this, shall I call you to attest these sor-
rowfiil truths ? Shall I open again wounds which
time hath hardly closed ? Shall I call those tremn*
loai adieus> those cruel separations, which cost

mSOUST WITH LIFE. 175

you so matiy regrets atid tears ? §hall I expose to
view bones, and infection, and putrefaction, the
only remains of hiin> who was your support in
trouble, your counsel in difficulty, your consoU^
tion in adversity ?

Ah, charms of friendship, delicious errors, lovely
chimeras, you are infinitely more capable of de^
ceiving than of satisfying us, of poisoning life than
of sweetening it, and o£ making us break with the
world than of attaching us to it ! My soul, wouldsfc
thou form unalterable connections ? Set thy love
upon thy treasure, esteem God, obey his holy
voice, which from the hi^est heavens saith to thee.
Give me thine heart I In God thou wilt find a love
fixed and faithful, a love beyond the reach of tem*
porai revolutions, which will follow thee, and fill
thee with felicity for ever and ever.

S. In fine, I will venture to affirm, that if any
thing seem capable to render life agreeable, and if
any thing in general renders it disagreeable, it is
rrectitudef and delicacy of conscience. I know So-
lomon seems here to contradict himself and the
author of the book of Proverbs seems to refute the
author of the book of Ecclesiastes. The author of
the book of Ecdesiastes informs us that virtue is
generally useless, and sometimes hurtful in this
world : but according to the author of the book of
Proverbs virtue is most useful in this world* Hear
the author of Ecdesiastes. Alt things have I seen
in the days of my vanity : there is a just man that
perisheth in his righteousness^ and there is a wick*-
ed man that prolongeth his in his wickedness. All
things come alike to all, there is one event to the
righteous and to the wicked i to him that sacri*
J^cethy and to him that sacrificeth not : as is the
good so is the sinner ; and he that sweareih, as he
that feareth an oath, chap. vii. 15, ix. 8. Hear

\ \

174 DISGUST WITH LIFE.

the author of the book of Proverbs. My son for-
get not my law : but let thy heart keep my com-
mandments s for length of days, and long bye,
anj, peace shall they add to thee. Let not mercy
and truth for sake thee : bind them about thy neck,
write them upon the table of thine heart. So shalt
thou find favor y and good understanding in the
sight of God and man. Happy is the man that
findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth under-
standing. For the merchandize of it is better than
the merchandize of silver, and the gain thereof
than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies :
and all the things "thou canst desire are not to be
compared unto her, chap. iii. 1, 2, 3, 13, 14, 15.

How shall we reconcile these things ? To say, as
some do, that the author of Proverbs speaks of the
spiritual rewards of virtue, and the author of Ex;-
desiastes ofthe temporal state of it, is to cut the
knot instead of untying it. Of many solutions,
which we have no time now to examine, there is
one that bids fair to remove the difficulty ; that is,
that when the author of the book of Proverbs makes
temporal advantages the rewards of virtue, he
speaks of some rare periods of society, whereas the
author of the book of Ecclesiastes describes the
common general state of things. Perhaps the for-
mer refers to the happy time, in which the exam-
ple of the piety of David being yet recent, and
the prosperity of his successors not having then in-
fected either the heart of the king or the morals of
his subjects, reputation, riches and honors were
bestowed on good men : but the second, probably,
speaks of Mrhat came to pass soon after. In the
first period life was amiable, and living in the world
delicious : but of the second the wise man saith,
/ hated lije, because the work that is wrought un^
der the sun is grievous unto me.

PISGITST WITH LIFE, 175

To which of the two periods doth the age in
which we hve belong? Judge by the description
given by the preacher, as he calls himself.

Then mankind were ungrateful^ the public did
not remember the benefits conferred on them by
individuals, and their services were unrewarded.
There was a little city besieged by a great king,
zvho built great bulwarks against it, and there zoai
found in it a poor wise man, zvho by his wisdom
delivered the city, yet no man remembered that
same poor man, chap. ix. 14, 15.

Then courtiers mean and ungrateful, basely for-
sook their old master, and paid their court tp the
heir apparent, / saw all the living under the sun
zvalking after the child, zvho shall stand up next
instead of the king, chap. iv. 15.

Then the strong oppressed the weak. / const-
dered all the oppressions that are done under the
sun, and behold, the tears of such as zvere op-
pressed, and they had no comforters, and on the
side of their oppressors there was power, but they
had no comforter.

Then the courts pf justice were corrupt. I saw
the place of judgment, that wickedness was there
chap. iii. 16. We will not finish this dis-
agreeable picture. / hated life, because the work
that is wrought under the sun is grievous unto me.

Such is , the idea the wise man gives us* of the
world. Yet these vain and precarious objects, this
world so proper to inspire a rational mind with dis-
gust, this life so proper to excite hatred in such as
know what is worthy of esteem, this is that which
hath always fascinated, and whicn yet continues to
fascinate the bulk of mankind.

This it was, that infatusgted the inhabitants of
tlie old world, who, even aften God had pronounc-
ed this dreadful decree. My spijnt shall not alzvays

176 DISGUST WITH LIFE*

Strive toith many for he is flesh j and after an hun^-
dred and twenty years he shall he no more^ forgot
themselves in tl^ pursuit of present pleasure. 7%ey
were eating and drinking^ marrying and giving in
marriage until the day that the flood came, and
t^ok them all away. Matt. xxiv. 38, 39.

This was what bewitched the whole heathen
world, who lived without hope, and without Ged
in the world, Eph. ii. 13.

This was what enchanted that highly favored na-
tion> which God distinguished from the rest of the
world, and to which he gave his laws, and intrust-
ed his prophecies, yet they forsook the fountain of
living waters^ and hewed them out cisterns, brok"
en cisterns, that can hold no water, Jer. ii. 13.

This was what influenced christians, more inex*
cttsable in this respect than jews and pagans, be-
cause their religion breathes nothing but disgust
with the world, and alienation from the idols of
life : and yet they are as much in love with worldly
splendor, as eager in pursuit of wealth, as mudh
intoxicated with diversions, gaming, amusements
and dissipations as ever jews and pagans could pos^
sibly be.

This was the charm that operated on your an-
cestors, on those who governed the state before
you, magistrates : on those who ascended this pul-
pit before you, ministers : on those who attended
the worship of God in this place before you, chris-
tian people : all these, except a few, followed the
multitude, ran, wit^ the world to the same excess
of riot, and made the world their god, just as we
alK except a few, yet make the world our god, yet
follow the multitude, yet run, with the wicked to
the same excess of riot,

God, in order to undeceive mankind, and to
dissolve the charms that facinated their eyes, often

DISGUST WITH LIFE, 177

shewed them the world in its trae light. He often
added extraordinary ills to the ordinary calamiticfs
of life ; he made winds his angels, a.nd Jlamingjires
his ministers, Psal. civ. 4. he sent war, mortality^
flamibg eruptions, pestilence and earthquakes ; in
one word, he often visited them, as he yet visits
us, and with the same design. To them he said,
as he yet saith to us. Love not the world, neither
the things that are in the world. Vanity of vani^
ties, all is vanity. Fear God, and keep his cont"
mandments, for this is the whole duty of man,
1 John ii. 15. Eccles. i. 2. and xiii. 13. All this
was useless, just as it is now. Then mankind
made a god of the world, and so they continue to
do.

My brethren, taate is not subject to argument,
and if life seems to you supremely amiable, in spite
of all the imperfections and sins that imbitter it, in
vain do I stand here describing it to you. How-
ever, condescend at least to see whither every living
thing is tending ; and allow me to perform the duty
of this day, which requires me to treat of the dying
and the dead. A modern author hath published a
book with this singular title, subterranean Rome,
a title fiill of instruction and truth, a title that
may serve to teach that living haughty city, that
there is another Rome dead and buried, a natural
image of what the present Rome must shortly be.'
Such an object I present to you. I present you
your republic, not the republic you see composed
of living magistrates, generals, and heads of fa*
^milies ; this is superficial, the surface of your re-
public : But I would fix your eyes on an interior
subterranean republic. There is a state under your
feet. Go down* Go into the cells under the earth.
Lift up the lids of the coffins- What do you see

VOL. V. z

17S DISGUST WITH tlFE*

«

there ? What have you fouad there ? My God !
"IjEFhat inhabitaDts ! w hat citizensk What a republic I

This is not all. Go fiirther. Carry your eyes
beyond these caverns. Exercise that £uth, which
gives substance to things not seen. Thiok of the
soqls« which once animated this d^st, and ashes^
and bones. Where are they ? Some are in a state
of felicity, others in depths of misery. Scmie m
the bosom qf God^ others in prison with deviUi.
Some drinking of rivers of pleasures for evermore,
others having their portion in the lake ofjire^ tha
Smoke rising up for ever and ever^ PsaJ. xxxvi. 8.
and xvi. 11. and Rev. xix. 3. To say aU in one
WPrd^ some for abanfloning themselves ta the world
are suffering such punishments as the world inflicts^
on its slaves ^ and others for devoting themselves
tq God are receiving such rewards as God bestows
on his servants* May this contrast penetrate, a£^.
feet, and transform you bH ! And thou, great Qod,
giye weight to our exhortations in order to giye
i^ucoess to our benedicticuas.

I gladly embrace the opportunity of assisting a|;
this solemnity, of coming to you, my dear bre-
thren, at this auspicious season, and of preaching
£o you now that it is allowable to open the bot-
tom of a heart always full of most respectful affec-
tion for this city, and this church. Receive my
good wishes as affectionately' as they are dictated.

Magistrates^ to whom providence hath commit-
ted the reigns of government^ you are above our
benediction. But we are ministers of a master,
who governs all mankind, wd Srom that spurce of
splendor, magnifk^ence and wealth, we derive the
benedictions, which we diffuse on your august
heads. --May God inspire you with that elevation
of mind, . that magnanimity and holy ambition

DISOWT WITH LIFE. 179

wUich impdi magistrates, with whom he hath in-
trusted the sword of justice, to found all their deli-
bastions and decrees on equity ? May God inspire
you with such charity, condescension and aifabi^^
lity as may blend the parent with the master ! May
God inspire you with such humility and self-denial
as incline christian inagistrates to lay their power
at the feet of the great Supreme^ and to place their
glory in rendering to God a faithful account of
their administration ? Great will that account be.
You are, to a certain degree, responsible both- for
the temporal and eternal happiness of this peopli^.
The eternal happiness of a people often depends
on the conduct of their governors, on the care they
take to restrain licentiousness, to suppress seand^
lous books, to make solemn festivals observed, to
procure wise, zealous, and faithful ministers for
the church. Magistrates, who enter into these
noble designs, have a right to expect from God all
the assistance necessary to effect them. To thee.
Almighty God, we address our prayers for such
assistance for those illustrious persons ! O that our
petitions may enter heaven, and our prayers be
beard and answered !

Ministers, my dear cofitdjutors in the great work
of salvation, successors of the apostles in 7/2e work
of the ministry for the edifying of the body of
Christy Eph. iv. 12. God hath set narrow limits
to what the world calls our preferment and fortune.
The religion we profess doth not allow \xs to aspire
afler such high sounding titles, eminent posts, ahd
splendid equipages as confound the ministers of
temporal kings with the ministers of that Jesus,
whose kingdom is not of this world: but what we
lose in regard to the glittering advantages of the
world, we gain in regard to zeal and substantial

180 DISGUST WITH LIFE.

advantages ; if we ourselves understand that reli-
gion, which we teach others, and if we feel the
spirit of that calling, with which God hath honor-
ed us. May God grant, may the God who hath
honored us grant us such knowledge and virtue as
are essential to the worthy discharge of our duty !
May he bestow all that intrepidity, which is al-
ways necessary to resist the enemies of our holy
reformation, and sometimes those, w^o under the
name of reformed endeavor to counteract and de-
stroy it ! May he support us .under the perpetual
contradictions we meet with in the course of our
ministry, and invigorate us with the hopes of those
high degrees in glory, which await such as turfi
many tb righteousness, who shall shi?ie as the stars
for ever and ever ! Dan. xii. 3.

Merchants, you are the pillars of this republic,
and you are the means of our enjoying prospe-
rity and plenty. May God continue to bless
your comnierce ! May he cause winds and
waves, nature and every element to unite in
your favor ! Above all, may God teach you
the holy skill of placing your heart where your
treasure is j of making yourselves friaids of the
mammon of righteousness^ Matt. vi. 21. Luke
xvi. 9. of sanctifying your prosperity by your
charity, especially on such a day as this, in
which we should make conscience of paying a
homage of love to a God who is love, and
whose goodness hath brought us to see this
day.

Fathers and motliers of families, with whom
I have the honor and happiness of joining my-
self, m^y God help us to consider our children
not merely as formed for this world, but as in-
telligent and immortal beings, made for eterni-

DISGUST WITH LIFE. 181

ty ! May God grant, we may be infinitely more
desirous to see them happy in heaven than pros-
perous on earth ! May God continue these chil-
dren, so necessary to the pleasure of our lives
to Qur last moments ! God grant, if we be re-
quired to give them up to the grave, we may
have all the submission, that is necessary to sus-
tain such violent shocks !

My brethren, this article cuts the thread of
my discourse. May God answer all the pray-
ers I have uttered, and that far greater num-
ber which I have suppressed ! Amen.

■h

SERMON VIIL

THE PASSIONS*

1 PETER ii/2.

Dtarly teioved^ I htaeecb jouat itrangers and pilgrim , ahstaim
from Jleshly lusts, which war agai^ the soul.

THE words you liave heard, my brethren, offer
four subjects of meditation to your minds.
First the nature of the passions — secondly the di«^
orders of them — thirdly the remedies tp be applir^
ed — and lastly the motives that engage us to subdue
them. In the first place we will give you a general
idea of what the £^^oi9tle calls fleshly lusts, or in
modern style the passions. We will examine se^
condly the war which they wage against the souL
Our third part will inform you of the means of a6-
stmning from these fleshly lusts. And in the la$t
I^ace we will endeavor to make you feel the powec
of this motive, as strangers and pilgrims^ and ta
pr€ss home this exhortation of the apostle. Dearly
beloved; I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims^
abstain from fleshly lusts^ which war against the
soul.

i

\

1. In order to understand the nature ofthepas^
sions, we will exjdain the subject by a few preii^
miliary remarks.

184 THE PASSIONS.

I

1 . An intelligent being ought to love every thing
that can elevate, perpetuate, and make him hap-
py ; and to avoid whatever can degrade, confine,
and render him miserable. This, far from being a
human depravity, is a perfection of nature. Man
hath it in common with celestial inteihgences, and
with God himself. This reflection removes a false
sense, which the language of St. Peter may seem at
first to convey, as if the apostle meant by eradi-
caimg^eshlj/ lusts to destroy the true interest of
man. The most ancient enemies of the christian
religion loaded it with this reproach, because they
did not understand it ; and some superficial peo-
ple, who know no more of religion than the sur-
face, pretend to render it odious by the same
means. Under pretence that the christian religion
forbids ambition, they say it degrades man, and
under pretence that it forbids misguided self-love,
they say it makes man miserable. A gross error !
A false idea of Christianity ! If the gospel humbles,
it is to elevate us ; if it forbids a self-love ill-direct-
ed, it is in order to conduct us to substantial hap-
piness, ^y fleshly lusts St. Peter doth not mean
such desires of the heart as puts us on aspiring af-
ter real happiness and true glory.

2. An intelligent being united to a body, and
lodged, if I may speak so, in a portion of matter,
under this law, that according to the divers motions
of this matter he shall receive sensations of plea-
sure or pain, must naturally love to excite within
himself sensations of pleasure, and to avoid pain-
ful feelings. This is agreeable to the institution of,
the Creator. He intends, for reasons of adorable
wisdom, to preserve a society of mankind for se
veral ages on earth. To accomplish this design he
hath so ordered it that what contributes to the sup-
port of the body shall give the soul pleasure, and^

THE PASSIONS. 185

that what wx)uld dissolve it would give ' pain, so ,
that by these means we may preserve, ourselves.
Aliments are agreeable; the dissolution of the
parts of our bodies is painful ; love, hatred, and
anger,"" properly understood, and exercised to a
certain degree are natural and fit. The stoics, who
annihilated the passions, did not know man, ahd the
schoolftien, who to comfort people under the gout
or the stone told them that a rational mati ought
not to pay any regard to what passed in his body,
never made many disciples among \f ise men. This
observation affords us a second clue to the mean-
ing of the apostle : at least it gives us a second
precaution to avoid an error. By fleshly lusts he
doth not mean a natural inclination to preserve the
body and the ease of life ; he allows love, hatred
and anger to a certain degree, and as far as the
exercise of them doth not prejudice a greater inte-
rest. Observe well this last expression, as far ak
may be without prejudice to a greater interest. .
The truth of our second reflection depends on thiis
restriction.

3. A man being composed of two substances^
one of which is more excellent Hhan the other ; a
being placed between two interests, one of which
is greater than the other, ought, when these two in-
terests clash, to prefer the more noble before the
less lioble, the greater interest before the less. This
third principle is a third clue to what St. Peter calls
lusts^ or passions. Man hath two substances, and
two interests. As far as he can without prejudic-
ing his eternal interest he ought to endeavor to
promote his temporal interest : but When the two
clash he ought to sacrifice the less to the greater.
Fleshly lusts is put for what is irregular and de-
praved in our desires, and what makes us prefer
the body before the soul, a temporal before an eter-

VOL. T. 2 a ^^^

1^6 ?w J*i»ip»s-

jQal 'mterest. Tbsii thi» is ^e mewipg of t^ appf-
t)a is c^ar irpm hi» c^iiimg tbcse pa^ws pr /i/£(i',
fi^^hl^ What is th^ meaoiogjof thi;^ ?voii4 ? T]ke
K^pkur(s geo^rally i^si^ t^9 woi4 in tw<i s^i^s^.
SometimP^ it j^ Mteral}/ ^od {Vope^ly pwt JTor fle$Ii>
y^nd sQip^im^ it i^igmfit^ ^ St. Peter oalls tjsi^
j^^ipQs j^ei% w bptb th^^p senses; inl^hei&r^
Ibcaus^ sycooe loovoje from ithe )>p(ily lai; vpluptMpuiir-
p«t$^ ang^r, draakeno^^as, aod ia th^ iSi^Qood be-
cause tfaey spring from x>w diepravity. Heooe t#p
Apostle PW |^ut3 mm>f^ tJlMs wWl^ ^ tbe flesh
toth thofse which h^e tbei^ ^^ 19 jtbe fopdy^ »^
kbpis^ whiph bisivje in a miiiHxer no cpooi^^ioR with
% ^fiw tiifi works of tiw fifish ure tkeffip ad^fi^
rjltUiscivioume^fpidolatrypherfineSjfm^ Ap-

iciordiog to thjs tJpde twrks of the fiesb airf ^pt ^y
sm\i as are seated in the flesh (for ^nyy and b^f^
pannot be .pf this 3Prt) bnit <all d^naved disppsir
ilonsi.

Tbjs ^s a general idea pf tbp passionrs ; but as it jl^
)/f^ue a^d .obspvu:^, we wUl ^ndeavpr tp iexp}ain jt
more distinctly, and with this view we will sb^w^^-
first what Ihe passipns d^ in the mm^^r^»e^ what
they do in tbe senses^-rtbirdly wbat they are v^ tbe
jipciagiQj9i|;ipin-^and lastly wbat tbey .are inlbjebearjt;.
lEpvir pprtfait? pf thepa^ipns^ Ipw^ej^lJipations ^
)tbe condition of man* In order tP CQnineqt the
jwtfter wofe qlpsely, as w^ sbew you what fkshly
iustf are in these ibnr rieiiy^, w^ wili ^endeavor t^
^pnvjlnce vou that in these £>ur i^espects tbey war
^gm^st tk^ spuU The second part of pur d^onrse
i^b^r^pr^, which wa^ Jto tf e$U^ of ithe disordpr^ .pf the
passions, will b^ incU;^ded 19 the 4rst. Kvbipb ^^

plaio^ their n;s»ture.

1,. The pass^pns produce intb^ nind astrcN(ig
attention to wbatev«er cmi justify a.nd gratify tbeiw-
The most pdious pt^ts xnay be w placed as tp ap-

to i^pddr Mtfom. H^fei^ i» na abMfdHy m pdp^
Me but; jt ifttty be itiiide to appear tilsriy ; and Ih^m^
is fid fifttOi so dedt bi:tf it vMxf be itystd^ to appraf *
dMibtfU. A pa^kmatd itrati f&e^ a^ tl^ iHl^tif^
tion of b)^ tokiA on s«ch ^es of objectis M ftitdr'
fain pas^D, and f b}^ ii» iht ^(mtce of intiuit^raM^p
faji^ jiadgii^Sj e4Mrhithws ate «very day vvHilifesde!**
and antbof^.
If yott ote^fte alt tbe pas^oitof^ you w)tt fittd they

faav6 all tbii^ oharaeter. What is v^fi^atfce in tb<r
i«ifld of a vinc^tiYe tna» ? It » a fti^ atfeutiott
to all the fovoMbte HgMs^ ifi wbiob t^ge^K^ iitay ^
b^ cotisidered $ rt is a <;6i!t}Mal Utidf to atoid
et^fy odfO»d light in Which th^ sttbjoc* may b«
placed. On the one sWef, there ii^ a Geftaih deity
iai the t\rofId, who hath made revenge a laiv. Ith^
deity isf worldly honor, and at tb^ baf of thi«'
j^dg& to forget injfiries id meaii, and to pardokl.
t^aem oowardice^. Ott ther other i^ide vei^amJ*
dii^ttirbs society, nsurps the office <rf the magtstrat^^
satid violates the precepts of religion. A dispas-^
sionate ly^an, ^xaitlibing without pr^jndloe <hi^
queiifcion, ought I to revenge the injiiry I Bate r^
oeivod, would weigh all tb^se tnotitod, eoftdd^^
eaoh aparti ^nd all together, and wouM dotettnltie
to aot according as the moiA jnst and weighty tUfit*
sons should determine him : but a fWMgem iMtt*
cOtMiders noilcf btt the first, he psiyar iio sHteM;k>Q

to tbe last ; he alwayin e^cktims, my ho^ot^^ my^
bottor, be nevei^ ^y^ thy i^ligioi^ and my ^m\oa.
What 11$ hatred ? It isf a cloi^ attention t&i^ rmttW
iiHperfectioas. h any man free ?" Is aiiy maty stt
imperfect as to bavd nothhyg" good in bkh ? h thite:
iMtbing to comp^nsat^ hi^ d^fecff if 7 Tht^miM ig^
not bartdsom^, but be is m^ : his ^tiiti^ is itoe.
Ihtly, but hh heart is sine^fe : be^ catthot a«$M

188 THE FASSIOMS.

yoa with moDey, but he cod give you much good
advice supported by an excellent. example: be is
not either prince, king, or emperof, but he is a
man, a christian, a believer^ and in all these re-
spects he deserves esteem. The passionate man
turns away his eyes firom all these advantageous
sides, and attends only to the rest. Is it astonish-
ing that he hates a person, in whom he sees no-
thing but imperfection ? Thus a counsellor opens
and sets forth his cause with such artifice that law
seems to be clearly on his side ; he forgets one fact,
. suppresses one cirqumstance, omits to draw one
inference, which being brought forward to view en-
tirely change the nature of the subject, and his cli-
ent loses his cause. : In the same manner, a de-
fender of a false religion always revolves in his
mind th^ arguments, that seem to establish it,'and
never recollects those, which subvert it. He will
curtail a sentence, cut off what goes before, leave
out (vbat follows, and retain only such detached
expressions as seem to countenance his error, but
which in connection with the rest would strip it of
all probability. What is still niore singular is, that
love to true religion, that love, which under the di-
rection of reason opens a wi()e field of argument
and evidence, engageth us in this sort of false
judging, when we give ourselves i)p to it through
passion or prejudice.

This is what the passions do in the mind, and it
is easy to comprehend the reason St. Peter had to
say in this view, fleshly lusts zvar against the soul.
Certainly one of the noblest advantages of man is
to reason, to examine proofs and weigh motives,
to consider an object on every side, to combine the
various arguments, that are alleged either for Or
against a proposition, in order on these grounds to
regulate our ides^ and opinions, our iiatred and

THE PASSIONS. ISO

our love. The passionate man renounces this ad«
vantage, he never reasons in a passion, his mind ui
limited^ his soul is in chains, his fieshly passions
war against his soul.

Having examined the passions in the mind, let ui
consider them in the senses. To comprehend this,
recollect what we just now said, that the passions
owe their origin to the Creator, who instituted them
for the purpose of preserving us. Wlien an object
would injure health or life, it is necessary to our
safety, that there should be an emotion in our
senses to effect a quick escape from the danger ;
fear does this. A man struck with the idea of sud-
den danger hath a rapidity, which he could not
have in a tranquil state, or during a cool trial of his
power. It is necessary, when an enemy approaches
to destroy us, that our senses should so move as to
animate us with a power of resistance. Anger
doth this, for it is a collection of spirits .... but
allow me to borrow here the words of a modern phi-
losopher, who hath admirably expressed the mo-
tions.excited by the passions in our bodies. " Before
the sight of an object of passion, saith he, the spi-
rits were diffused through all the body to preserve
every part alike, but on the appearance of this new
object the whole system is shaken ; the greater part
of the animal spirits rush into all the exterior parts
of the body, in order to put it into a condition pro-
per to produce such motions as are necessary to ac-
3uire the good, or to avoid the evil now present,
f it happen that the power of man is unequal to
his wants, these same spirits distribute themselves
so as to make him utter mechanically qertain words
and cries, and so as to spread over his countenance
and over the rest of his body an air capable of aei-
tating others with the same passion, with which he
hin^f is moved. For as men and other animals

19D jfii fAisiom^.

af« uttU^ t6gelhet by tj^ fitld enfd, when My one
i# a^M«d he AM«M4fily lAakei^ Utt dtberfsf that siae
aftd te^ him, (ikd tfaWraHy |^h>dU6e9 paittfiil fefel^
ings in their imaginations, whidh kitetdHt th€tli ht
M» [fdicF. Th« i«fit df the ipif iti» fosh vkHmkly mto
tlMbeM, tlMltlftg^, thetii^f, i^ 6th6r Titalni, m
cMVJter td l«y all the parts xmSet cotttribntioti, tetd
hMtily Uf 6i^tif6 front) them as quidc as (K>ssi!ble thtf
sfrif its nM^ssftry for thd t^resertatioii ctf th^ body ftt
thf*ste tfxtfftOfdte^rf dforts/' Such af e the nWW*
AMtS e3t<frtd!d bt" ffae pssskifls id the sens^, add aS
th«M to a Mrtaid degt^ are nec^lssary for the pt^^
setv&tkm of otff bodies, and are the instittrtkms of
&ctt Creator : httk thfiee thirtgs 4r* D6cess*ry t<r pf e*
s€frte ofd^r fat these ^Motions. First th6y diilst n«^
V» ht cfttifted Jtt the bddy withont the direction of
the «rin iMtd (he ressdfh. Secondly they t«ust always
be {Mportionftl, I taitin, the emof iotl of fear, fof
e)t£th}ple, rtrast herer be except iti sight of objects
capable of hurting' us ; the emotion of anger mtisc
nerer be except m sight of an enemy, who acttt*
^Hy hatfi both (he tviH atid the power of injaridg
owr \*ell beit)^. And thirdly they must always stop
\then and ivhere we wrfl they should. When the
passions subvert this order they violate three wise
institutes of ottr Creditor.

The Motions edtctted by the passions in odf senses
are iiot /tee. An ailgry rutin is carried beyond
himself in spite of hitdsdf. A voluptuous man re^
ceites ^ sensible f rtii»resSiod from au ejtterior obfect^
stdd id spite Of ftif the dictates of reason throws hnpf^*
self itttd a flamidg fire that codsndies him.

The emotions excited by the passions in odr
sftWes are n6t ptopottidiial ^ I mean that a timo-^
rouS man, for example, turns as pale at the si^
bf A fencifnl as of a teA dattget- ; he sometimes
ftdrs A phantom and h substance alike. A mto,^

whosf QH is his ifiU^, &d$ lu? ^tpjpi^it^ aa^ rmck

excited by a dish fatal to his health as by qf^ jx^
ce$sar/ to ^por); im ^vei^^h, »9^ to k^f Jiim

sliv*.

The ftmotioRs £^;i»:?it;^d by )J)i^ p9S8K)n3 i^ mf
9&i^^^ do not obey the orders of o«r «;2//, The
ipovemwt is m py^rflow of spirits wbic^ no n^fi^
tions can reaj/ain. It is not a ^tlefir^ to jgiff
the blood a w^m^Xh nepes^^vy to its circnlation ;
it k » volcano po^rin^ wt its mm all liquid .^n^i
4estroctiy^ on jeviery sjd^^ it is pot ^ gentle sltreaw,^

tprljujig in it? proper bod,, mewdprisg tjirongb tjl?*
fldsp a^()n9oistenin^^r^frNiib£9naija¥igo^^
them a;s iJb goes : but it is a rapia flood, bribing
down all its b^nl^, carryi^ig <every where we .9n5
innd, sweeping away the h^rve^f^ subyertjfig hillf
and trees, ana jearrying ^way w^^ thing on aU
sides that pppo^e it;s passage^ This is wksLt ,the fm^
BKWs do in ibe isi^tnses, and do vqu not oor^ornvf,
my brethren, tIu^t in thie secona re;speipt they war
against th^ soul f

They war against the soul by tlje disojrders they
introdijice into that body, wbiph they ought to prje^
serve. Tliey dissipate the spirits, w^eaken the j;^
mory, wear out the brain* Behold .those trem^
bliing hands, those discolored eyes^ that body ben^
and boio^ed Awtn to the grouna ^ these ari^ the i^
fects ,of yiplent jpassions. Wb^n tJ?^ body is iii
such a 3tat^ it is ^ajsy tp conc^y€^ ^^wff^vH
suffers with it. The <uniQn bietween tj)^ two jis sq
qlose that tfte alteration o/ thf^ pn^ iiieipessarily ^«
tew the othier. When the icapacity rbf tJtie souJ ii
9;bsO|rb«d by painful ^^tioia^y we .91;^ incyp^hlii
^f attendii]^ to tr9tl>* If thie sipu'.iji;$^ necqsisQiry to
support us jn pteditation, bedis^pated, wecnuA^
long^ nvrditote. If thi^ braiui i^hich ^ustbfs ic^
a i^ertaiin consJ^tc^eto rj^ceiye impxessions of pb*

I9S THE PASSIOKS.

jects, hare lost that consistence it can recover it
no more.

They war against the soul by disconcerting the
whole oeconomy of mati, and by making him con-
sider such sensations of pleasure as providence gave
him only for the sake of engaging him to preserve
his body as a sort of supreme good, worthy of all
his care and attention for its own sake.
' They war against the soul because they reduce
it to a state of slavery to the body, over which
it ought to rule. Is any thing more unworthy of
an immortal soul than to follow no other rule of
judging than an agitation of the organs of the body,
the heat of the blood, the motion of animal spirits ?
And doth not this daily happen to a passionate
man ? A man, who reasons fairly when his senses
are tranquil, doth he not reason like an idiot when
his senses are agitated ? Cool and dispassionate, he
thinks, he ought to eat and drink only what is ne-
cessary to support his health and his life, at most td
receive with thanksgiving such innocent pleasures
as religion allows him toenjoy : but when his senses
are agitated, his taste becomes dainty, and he
thinks he may glut himself with food, drown him-
self in wine, and give himself up without reserve
to all the excesses of voluptuousness. When his
senses were cool and tranquil, he thought it suf-
ficient to oppose precautions of prudence against
the designs of an enemy to hi§ injury: but when
his senses are agitated, he thinks, he ought to at-
tack him, fall on him, stab him> kill him. When
he was cool, he was free, he was a sovereign ; but
now that his senses ar^ agitated, he ii^ a subject, he
is a slave. Base submission ! Unworthy slavery!
We blush for human nature, when we see it in
3uch bondage. Behold that man, he hath as many
virtues, perhaps more than most men. Examine

THE PASSIONS* 199

on the article of good breeding. He perfectly un-
derstands, and scrupulously observes ^ all the laws
of it. Examine him on the point of disinterested-
ness. He abounds in it, and to see the manner
in which he gives, you would say, he thought, he
increased his fortune by bestowing it in acts of be-!
nevolence. Examine him concerning religion. Htt
respects the majesty of it, he alwayis pronounced
the name of God with veneration, hie never thinfegi
of his works without admiration, 6t his attributes
without reverence and fear. Place this ttian at a
gaming table, put the dice 6t the cards in his hand,
and you will know him no more ^ he loseis all selfi
possession, he forgets politeness, disint'erestedne^
and religion, he insults his fellow creatures and
blasphemes his God. His soul teems with avarice)
his body is distorted, his thoughts are troubl^j
his temper is changed his oountenande turns psll^j
his eyes sparkle, his mouth foams^ his Spi^ft^ areiri
a flame, he is another man, no it is not ^isi ihab, If
is a wild beast, it is a devil.

We never give ourselves up thus to ouf sbnsei)
without feeling some pleasure, and, what 'is very
dreadful, this pleasure abides in the memory, vnakecf
deep traces in the brain, in a word im^intS~itseJf
on the imagination : and this leads us 11^ our tbii^^
article, in which we are to consider what the pas^
sions do in the imagination. ; ^ '' ' '[

If the senses were excited to act only by thetj)re-
sence of objects : if tlif soul were agit^^ 6nly by
the action of the senses, one single ttie^n would
suffice to guard us from irregular passions; that
would be to flee^from the object that excites them:
but the passions produce other disorders^ they leave
deep impressions on the imaginatiok. When w(i
give ourselves up to the senses, we feel pleasure^
this pleasure strikes the imagination, ^nd^the ima*

VOL- V. 2 b

i94 THB PAS9I0Mdk

ginatioQ thus sfitick wit& the jpIeasQre it bath found
recollects it^ and solicits the pctssionate ngtan to re*
turn to obj^cts^ that made him so hiippy.

Thu^ ^ men have sometkives miserable re«
mains of rial pa^ion which sterns, to ^uppOs^ a cer^
tain constitutiMi> Avki which Should seekH to be ex*
titifct^ 0$ the oQ^ifitil^iitioa implied is no more t but
the TecoUeotioa thbt subh ctnii s^ch objects bad been
t^ i[?a!U^<^ su<ih,and rach pleaisui^fl h dear to their
»oiik;:tbejr loye.to renleihber them, they make
them a pa^tof all their conversations^ they draw
flattering, t)Ottfaits, and by reicouftting their past
pleasures Jndeoimfy themselves for the prohibttioiiy
under wh¥^ qM «tge hath laid thett. for the same
fpfuson ^.. fSy that k worldUilg) who hath plunged
Iniftscflf into all the disstpiations of lifo> finds it so
liffiiCult. to renounce the leoHd wh^ be comes, to
lie. Irideed a body borne^d^wn wfth illness, a na*
ture almo^st extinct, senses half dead seem impro^
per habitations of love to sensual pleasure ; and
yet imagination struck itith past pleasure tells this
skeleton^' t hart the world is amiable, that always^
wlien. he 9^ent into k be tejoyed a'.tfeal pleasure^
aiad thatr Oi^ the contrary^ always wl^toj^ per-
tonoofed religibiis exercises he felt pain; and this
lively inpFCssion gives iiuch a mati a present Aver^
sioB to religion t it inoessantly turkis his mind to^
wards the objects of which death is 4b0lit to deprive
him, ^fib tikdd^ without a miracle of grace^ he can
nevet look'towcuds the.objects of religion with de^
$tr? and pleasufe^

We go further. We alfirm> that the disordiars
of the .f!a$stons ia the lAu^nattoHi far exceed those
iiith|&setis0^'i the (action of the senses is limited :
b«(t:thMYof tb£ imftginalioii; is. bouiidless so tiatt
the didfer&ni^e is almost 5ai great as thbt between
iiniGe and ififiiirit^^ if you w^I pat^dbn the ei^pre^

^lite. A man, who itotU^Uy tastes pieoaure ia de«
bmicherjr^ feels this plesawne, but be doea not pets
auAcle bimdf tbi^t he ftete. iit more thaa be does ;
iMitainM, who iodulges bis feocy, forms, most ei^^
tmagant ideas^ for imitginaticMRit i^agniSies soma
ol^eots^ creates others, accumulates. phantom upoQ
phantom, and fills up a tast ^pace with ideal joys,
which have no originals in nature. Hence it comes
U> pass that we are mora pleased witli imaginary
ideas, than with the actual enjoyment of what w«
imagine, because imaginai;ion having made bound-i «
less promises, it gladdens the soul with the hope
of m(tf« to supply the want of what present objectsf
iaif of producing.

O deplorable state of man ! The littleness of his
mind will not allow him to contemplate any object
but that of his passion, while it is pre^nt to Im
senses ; it will not allow him then to recollect the
motives, the great motives that sliould impel him
to his duty : and when the object is absent, not be»
ing able to offer it to his senses, he presents it again
to his imagination clothed with new and foreign
charms, deceitful ideas of which make up for its
absence, and excite in him. a love more violent than
that of actual possession, when he felt at least the
folly and vanity of it. O horrid war of the pa&-
sions against the saul ! Shut the door of your clo^
sets against the enchanting object, it will enter with -
you. Try to get rid of it by traversing plains, and
fields, and whole countries; cleave the waves of the
aea, fly on the wings of the wind, and try to put
between yourself and your enchantress the deep
the noUing oeean, she will tmyd with you> sail with
3^u, every where haunt you, because wherever you
go you will carry yourself, and within ypu> deep
in your imagination the bewitching image i»«
pressed*

196 THir PASSIONS.

t

Let us consider, in fine, the passions in the hearts
and the disorders they cause there. What can fill
the heart of man ? A propti^t hath answered this
question, and hath included all morality in one
point, my chief good is to draw near to God,
rsal. Ixxiii. 28. but as God doth not commune
with us immediately, while we are in this world,
but imparts felicity by means of creatures, he hath
given these creatures two characters, which, being
well examined by a reasonable man, conduct him
to the Creator, but which turn the passionate man
aside. On the one hand, creatures render us hap-
py to a certain degree, this is their first character :
on the other hand, they leave a void in the soul,
which they are incapable of filling, this is their se-
cond character. This is the design of God, and
this design the passions oppose. Let us hear a
reasonable man draw conclusions, and let us ob-
serve what opposite conclusions a passionate man
draws.

The reasonable man saith, creatures leave a void
in my soul, which they are incapable of filling : but
what effect should tnis produce in my heart, and
what end hath God in setting bounds so strait to
that power of making me happy, which he com-
municated to them ? It was to reclaim me to himself,
to persuade me that he only can make me happy ;
it was to make me say to myself, my desires are
eternal, whatever is not eternal is unequal to my
desires ; my passions are infinite, whatever is not
infinite is beneath my passions, and God only can
satisfy them.

A passionate man, from the void he finds in the
creatures, draws conclusions directly opposite.
Each creature in particular is incapable of mak-
ing me happy : but could I unite them all, could
I^ so to speak, extract the substantial from all.

THE PASSIOHS. 197

certainly nothing would be wanting to my happi^^
ness. In this miserable supposition he .becomes
full of perturbation, he launches out, he collects^
he accumulates. It is not enough to acquire con-*
veniences, he must have superfluities. It is not
enough that my name be known in my family^
and among my acquaintance, it must be spread
over the whole city, the province, the kingdom,
the four parts of the globe. Every clime illumi-
nated by the sun shall know that I exist, and that
I have a superior genius. It is not enough to con*
quer some hearts, I will subdue all, and display the
astonishing art of uniting all voices in my favor ;
men divided in opinion about every thing else
shall agree in one point, that is to celebrate my
praise. It is not enough to have many inferiors,
I must have no master, no equal, I must be aa
universal monarch, and subdue the whole world j
and when I shall have accomplished these vast de*
signs, I will seek other creatures to subdue, and
more worlds to conquer. Thus the passions discon-
cert the plan of God ! ^Such are the conclusions of
a heart infatuated with passion !

The disciple of reason saith, creatures contribute
to render me happy to a certain degree : but this
power is not their own. Gross, sensible, material
beings cannot contribute to the happiness of a spi-
ritual creature. If creatures can augment my hap^
piness, it is because God hath lent them a power
natural only to himself. God is then the source of
felicity, and all I see elsewhere is only an emana-
tion of his essence : but if the streams be so pure,
what is the fountain ! If effects be so noble, what
is the cause ! If rays be so luminous, what is the
source of light from Which they proceed !

The conclusions of an impassioned man are di^
rectly opposite. Saith he, creatures render me hap*

198 THE rA9SI02i5L

py to a certain degree^ therdbre, they are tbe cauaie
dr my happiness^ they deserve all my efforts^ they
9haH be my god. Tlma the paaaioiiate maa ren«
ders to his aliments^ his gold, his sArer, his equw
page, his horses, the most noble act of adoration^
For what is the most nd!>Ie act of adoration ^ Is it
to build temples ? To erect altars. To kill victims i
To sacrifice burnt offerings ? To bum incense ? No«
It is that inclination of our heart to union with
God, that aspiring to possess him, that love, that
effusion of iK>ul, which makes us exclaim. My chief
good is to draw near to Gad. This homage the
mui of passion renders to the object of his pas*
sions, his god is his belly ^ his ciyoetausness his ido^
latry ^ luad this is whBtJieshly lusts become in the
heart. They remove us from God, and by temov*-
ing us from him, deprive us of all tbe good that
proceeds from a union with tbe supreme good, and
thus make war with every part of ourselves, and
with every moment of our duration.

War against our reason, for instead of deriving,
by virtue of a union to Grod, assistance necessary
to the practice of what reason approves, and what
grace only renders practicable, we are given up to
our evil dispositions, and compelled by our pas**
iions to do what our reason abhors.

JFar against the regulati<Mi of life, fi^r instead of
putting on, by virtue of union to God, the easy
yoke, and taking up the lights burden which reli-
gion imposes, we become slaves of envy, ven-
geance and ambition ; we are weighed down with
a yoke of iron, which we have no power to get
rid of, even though we groan under its intolerable
weightiness.

War against conscience, for instead of being
justified, by virtue of union with God, and having
peace with him through our Lord Jesus Christy

THE PASSIONS. 190

Ram. v; 1. and feeling that heaven begun^ joy nni-
speakabU andfull<nf glory ^ 1 Pet. i. 8. by follow^
ing out passions we become a prey to distractiog
fears» troubles without end> cuttinig remonse^ luid
awful earnests of eternal misery.

War on a dying bed, for whereas by being unit-
ed to God o«ir ik^h bed woi&ld have become a field
of triutnpb, where the prii^e of life» the conqiieror
of death, would have ^eoade «is share bis vit^ory^
by abandoning ourselv^es to our passions^ we see
nothing in a dying hour but an awful futurity, a
fndwning govetnor, the bare idea of which ak^ms^
terrifkSi, and drives us to despair.

III. We hare seen the nature, • and the disorder^
of the passions, now let us examine what r erne die f
we ought to apply. In order to prevent and cor-
rect the disorders, which the passions produce in
the mind, we must observe the following rules*

I. Wt mu^t avoid precipitunce^ and suspend
our judgment. It doth not depend on us to have
dear ideai^ of all things : but we have power to sus-
pend our judgment till we obtain evidence of the
natQi>e of the olivet before us. This is one of the
greatest advantages of an intelligent l>eing. A
celebrated divine hath such an high idea of thja,
that he mainta^ this hyperbolical thesis, thai
^^ always when we mistake, even in things indiA
ferent in tbemselves we siA, because then we abuse
out* reason, the use of which consists in never de-
ttottiiudlg without evidence.'' Though we suppose
tbiB divine bath exceeded the matter, yet it is cer*
tmk^ tkat a wiie man can never take too mucb
pains to form a habit of not judging a point, sot
cfOfisidtrtng tt as useiul or advajitageous till after
he hathexMbifned it on every side. ^ Let a maq^
m\h a fibilosopber of great name, let ai^nan only

200 THE PASSIONS*

pass one year in the world, hearing all they say^
and believing nothing, entering every moment in-
to himself, and suspending his judgment till truth
and evidence appear, and I will esteem him more
learned than Aristotle, wiser than Socrates, and a
greater man than Plato."

Q. A man must reform even his education. In
every family the minds of children are turned to a
Certain point. , Every family hath its prejudice, ' I
had almost i^id, its absurdity : and hence it comes
to pass that people despise the profession they do
not exercise. Hear the merchant ; he will tell you,
that nothing so much deserves the attention of
mankind as trade, as acquiring money by every
created thing, as knowing the value of this, and
the worth of that, as taxing, so to speak, all the
works of art, and ail the productions of nature.
Hear the man of learning ; he will tell you, that
the perfection of man consists in literature, that
there is a difference as essential between a scholar
and a man of no literature, as between a rational
creature and a brute. Hear the soldier ; he will
tell you, that the man of science is a pedant, who
ought to be confined to the dirt and darkness of the
schools, that the merchant is the most sordid part
of society, and that nothing is so noble as the pro-
fession of arms. One would think, to hear him
talk, that the sword by his side is a patent for pre-
eminence, and that mankind have no need of any
people, who cannot rout an army, cut through a
sqiiadron, or scale a wall. Hear him who bath
got the disease of quality ; he will tell you, that
other men are nothing but.reptiles beneath his feet,
that human blood, stained every where else, is pure
only in his veins. That nobility serves for every
thing, for genius, and education^ and fortune, and
sometimes even for common sense and good faith;

THE PASSIONS. .201

Hear the peasant ; he will tell you, that a noble-
man is an enthusiast for appropriating to /himself
the virtues of his ancestors, and for pretending to
find in old quaint names, and in worm eaten pa^
pers, advantages, which belong only to real and
actual abilities. As I said before, each family hath
its prejudice, every profession hath its folly, iall pro-
ceeding from this principle^ because we consider
objects only in one point of view. To correct our-
selves on this article, we must go to the source,
examine how our minds were directed in our child-
hood ; in a word, we must review, and reform even
pur education.

3. In fine, toe must, as well as we can, choose
a friend w\se enough to ki^ow truth, and generous
enough to impart it to others ; a man who will
shew us an object on every side^ when we are in-
clined to consider it only on one/ . Xsay, as well
as you can, for to give this rule is to suppose two
things, both sometimes alike ^ impracticable ; the
one, that such a man can be found, and the other,
that he will be heard with deference. When we
are so happy as to find this inestimable treasure,
we have found a remedy of marvellous efficacy
against the disorders, which the pasaions produce
in the mind. Let us make the trial. Suppose a
faithful friend should address one of you in this
manner. Heaven hath united in your favor the
most happy circumstances. The blood of the greats
est heroes animates you, and your name alone is
an encomium. Beside this you have an affluent
fortune, and Providence hath given you abun-
dance to support your dignity, and to discharge
every thing that your splendid station requires.
Yoq have also a fine and acute genius, and your
natural talents are cultivated by an excellent edu-
cation. Your health seems frfee from the infirmi^

VOL. V. 2 c

202 THE PASSIONS.

ties of life, tod if My man -may hope for a loh}g
duration here, you are the Inan who may expect it.
With all thesje noble advantages you tnay aspire at
any thing. But one thinjo^ is wanting. You are
dazi^led with your^own splendor, tmd yoiir feeble
cfyes are almost ^ptit out with the brilliancy of y bur
condition^ Your itfaagttiation struck with the idea
of the prince, whom y6u have tbe-lionorto serve,
mak^s you'cohsider yonfscJf as aicind of royal par-
sonage. 'Your have ft)rmed'yottr fhmily on theplah
of the court. You are proud, aiTogant, haughty.
Your seat resembles atHbunal, ind -all your ex-
pressions are sentences from which it is a crime 'to
app^.t Asyou Will never suffer yourself to be
contradicted, you teem to be afpptauded :'tiQta sa-
brifice is made to your vtaiity and not to your merit,
arid • peof^e bow not i;o your reason but to yMr
tyranny. . As they fear you avail yourself bf your
credit to braVe others, feach endeavors' to oppol^e
y6U, and to throw doWn in your'absefhice the altar
he had erected in your presence, and on \vhich tio
incense sincerely offered ■ burns, tSxc^^t' that Vdlieh
you yourself put there.

Soimuchfiir irregiAari^as^ons in theVnihd. Let
ns now lay down a f^w rules for the goverhftient of
the senses.

Before we proceed, ^^e carirtot kelp deploi^irigthe
misery of a man, \*ho is iuipelled by the disorders
of his senses, and the heat of his constitution to
criminal passions. Such a man often deserves pity
more than indignation. A bad constitution is
sometimes compatible with a ^66d heart. We
cannot think without trembling, of an urigra^tful
man, a cheat, a traitor, an assassin ; for their
crimes always suppose liberty of mind, and consent
of will : but a man driven from the piost of tfnty
by the heat of his blood, by an ovctAow of humors.

THE FASaiOKS. 1^0^

by the fe^tQent^ioQ and iUjne of his spidljs, oft^
sins by constraiat, and, so to sfpea^, ^otest$,
against his cr^ne even wlpgl^e he congmajts it. Hence
we often see angry people (;)^ome full of l9y^ Bfid
pity^ always inclining to forgive, or s^iyajs r^ady to^
ask pardon; wjbile others col^;, ca]^ t^i^quil, re-,
volve eternal l^tred^i.in their so^Ut ^n4 leave, thein
for an inheritance for their children.

However, thoi^gh the irregulai^ity of th^ i^ns^,
diminishes th^ atrociouspes^ oi^ th^e criq[i^> yet it
canaot e^^cvise thos^^ who 4p^ not make c9^f ihi|Val
effoi:ts^ to correct ^. To acknowledge that we a^^
oonstitutionaUy inclined to violate the }a^s qf 6o4»
and tQ live quietly in practices directed by cons^U
tivtional heat, isi to have the interior tainted. |t isf
an eyidence that the malady, \vhkih at ^rst attack-
ed only the exteripr of the man, hath conpuauni-
cated itself to ^U the frame^ ^nd infected the yita^.
y/^e oppose this against the frivolous excises of
fpme sinners^ who whOe they abanc|qn themselves
like brute beasts tp the linost guilty passions^ lay
all the blame on the misfortune of their constitu-
tion. They say, their will hath no part in their
e3(cesses--r-tbey cannot change theif constitution—
and God cannot justly blame them for Irregularities^
which proceed from the natural unjon of the soul
with the body. Indeed they proye by their talk
tbey would be very sorry not to h^ve a constitu-
tio;i to serve for an apology for sin, and to coyer
the licentiousness oif casting off an obligation^
wbiph the law of God, according to them, requires
of none but such as have received ifroni nature tjip
power of discharging it. If these ma;^inis be sd-
mitted, what becomes of the morality of Je^us
Christ ? What become of the commands conceriv^
ing mortiiication and repentance ? But people, \yho
talk thus, intend less to correct their faults th^m tp

204 THE PASSIOIIS.

§

palliate them ; and this discourse is intended only
for such as are willing to apply means to free them-
selves from the dominion of irregular passions.

Certahily the best advice that can be given to a
man, whose constitution inclines him to sin, is,
that he avoid opportunities, and flee from such ob-
jects as affect and disconcert him. It doth not de-
pend on you to be unconcerned in sight of an ob-
ject fatal to your innocence : but it does depend
on you to keep out of the wfty of seeing it. It
doth not depend on you to be animated at the sight
of a gaming table : but it doth depend on you to
avoid such whimsical places, where sharping goes
for merit. Let us not be presumptuous. Let us
niake diffidence a principle of virtue. Let us re-
member St. Peter, he was fired with zeal, he
thought every thing possible to his love, his pre-
sumption was the cause of his fall, apcl many by
following his example have yielded to temptation,
and have found the truth of an apocryphal maxim,
he that lovcth danger shall perish therein, Eccles.
iii. 26.

After all that virtue, which owes its Brmness only
to the want of an opportunity for vice, is very
feeble and it argues very little attainment only to
be able to resist our passions in the absence <rf
temptation. I recollect a maxim of St. Paul,/
wrote unto you not to company with fornicators,
but I did not mean that you should have no conver-
sation with fornicators of this world, for then
must ye needs go out of the world, 1 Cor. v. ^, 10.
Literally, to avoid all objects dangerous to our pas-
sions, we must go out of the world. Are there no
remedies adapted to the necessity we are under of
living among mankind ? Is there no such thing as
correcting, with the assistance of grace, the irre-
gularities of our constitution, and freeing ourselves

' /

THE PASSIONS. SOS

from its dominion, so that we may be abley if not
to seek out temptations for the sake of the glory of
subduing them, at least to resist them» and not
suffer them to conquer us, when in spite of all our
caution they will attack us ? Three remedies are
necessary to our sjuccess in this painful undertak-
ing : to suspend acts — ^to flee idleness — to mortify
sense.

We must suspend acts. Let us form a just idea
of temperament, or constitution. It consists in
one of these two things, or in both together ; in a
disposition of organs, in the nature of animal spi-
rits. For example, a man is angry, when the or-^
gans which serve that passion, are more accessible
than others, and when his animal spirits are easily
heated. Hence it necessarily follows, that two
things must be done to correct constitutional anger;
the one the disposition of. the organs must be
changed ; and the other the nature of the spirits
must be changed ; so that on the one hand, the
spirits no longer finding these organs disposed to
give them passage, and, on the other hand the spir-
its having lost a facility of taking fire, there will be
within the man none of the revolutions of sensed
which he could not resist when they were excited.

A suspension of acts changeth the disposition of
the organs. The more the spirits enter into these
organs, the more easy is the access, and the pro-
pensity insurmountable ; the more acts of anger
there are, the more corrigible anger becomes ; be-
cause the more acts of anger there are, the more
accessible will the organs of anger be, so that the
animal spirits will naturally fall there by their own
motion. The spirits then must be restrained.
The biass they have to the ways, to which they have
been habituated by the practice of sin, must be
turned, and we must always remember a truth often

206 THE FASSION8.

incukatect, that is^ that the more^ acts of sia we
commit the more dilBBiCult to correct will habits of
sia becomd ; but that wheii» by takiug psuns with
ourselves, we have turned the comroe of the spirits,
they wiH take different ways, and this is dojae by^
suspending the acts*

It is not impossible to change even the natore of
our animal spirits. This is done by suspending
what contributed to nourish them in a state of dis-
order. What contributes to the nature of spirits h
Diet, exercise, air, the whole course of life we live.
It is very difficult, in a discourse like this, to give a
full catalogue of remedies proper to regulate the
animal spirits and the humors of the body. I be-
lieve it would l:>e dangerous to many people. Some
men are so made, th^t reflections too accurate on
this article would be more likely to increase their
vices than 1o diminish them. Hiewever, there is
not one person willing to turn his att<3ntian to this
subject, who is not able to become a preacher to
himself. Let a man enter into himself, let him sur^
vey the history of his excesses, let him examine a}l
circumstances, let him recolliect what passed within
him on such and such occasions, let him closely
consider what moved and agitated him, and he will
learn more by such a meditation, than all sermons
and casuistical books can teach him.

The second remedy is to avoid idleness. What
is idleness ? It is that situation of soul, in which no
effort is made to direct the course of the spirits this
way rather than that. What must happen then ?
We have supposed, that some organs of a man con-
stitutionally irregular are more accessible than
others. When we are idle, and make no efforts to
direct the animal spirits, they naturally take tlie
easiest way, and consequently direct their own
course to those organs which passion hath made

THE PASSIONS. j^

easy of access. To avoid this disorder, we must
be employed, and always employed. 'Xhia rule is
neither impracticable, nor ^diificult. . We do not
mean, that the soul should be 'always on the stretch
in'medkation or prayer. -An iniiocetft recreation,
an ea^y conversation, agreeable ^ex^rciise may^have
each ks place in ocicupations x>{ this kind. For
these reaisons 'we appl^aud' those, whotmake such
maxima part of theeducatito of.youtb, as either
to teach them an art, o^employ them in some bo-
dily exercise. Not that w;e propose this m^^iih
as it is received in some families, where tbey think
all the merit of a young^ g'entlematiconsists in hudt-
ing, riding, or 'some exercise of that kind; and
that of a young lady in 'distinguishing herself m
dancing, music, or needle^work. Wemean^ that
these emplpymentssbould be subordinate to othens
more /serjpus, and more worthy of an iiQixiortal
soul, :that4h0y'should serve only for rdaxation, so
that by thus taking part m the innoicent pleasures
of the world, we may^be:betterfI>re|)iared to avoid
theguilty pursuits of it.

Thp third remedy is mori(ficatwn qf' tiie senses^
a remedy which St. Paul dways- used, I keep under
my body, and bring it into subjection, 1 Cor. ix.
27. Few ; people have such sound notions. Some
casuists have stretched the. subject beyond its doie
bounds so as to establish this principle, that sinfiil
men can enjoy no pleasure withotit a crime, be-
cause sin having been bis delight, : pain ought to
be forever his lot. This i principle may ^perhaps be
probable considered in regard to unregenerate men :
but it cannot be admitted in regard to true chris-
tians. Accordingly,^we placed among those, who
have unsound notions of tnortification, all such as
make it consist in vain practices, useless in them^
selves, and hs^ving no relation to the principal de-
sign of religion, bodily exercises projiling little :

^08 THE PASSIONS.

they are commandments of men, in the language
of scripture.

But if some have entertained extravagant notions
of mortification^ others have restrained the subject
too much. Under pretence that the religion of Je-
sus Christ is spiritual, they have neglected the stu-
dy and practice of evangelical morality : but we
have heard the example of St. Paul, and it is our
duty to imitate it. We must keep under the body,
and bring it into subjection, the senses must be
bridled by violence, innocent things must often be
refused them, in order to obtain the mastery when
.they require unlawful things; we must fast, we
must avoid ease, because it tends to effeminacy.
All this is difiieult, I grant : but if the undertak-
ing be hazardous, success will be glorious. Thirty,
forty years, employed in reforming an irregular
constitution, ought not to be regretted. What a
glory to have subdued the senses ! What a glory to
have restored the soul to its primitive superiority,
to have crucified, the body of sin, to lead it in tri-
umph^ and to destroy, that is to annihilate it, ac-
cording to an expression of scripture, and so to
approach those pure spirits, in whom the motions
of matter can make no alteration !

The disorders produced by the passions in the
imagination, and against which also we ought to
furnish you with some remedies, are like those com-
plicated disorders, which require opposite remedies,
because they are the effect of opposite causes, so
that the means employed to diminish one part not
unfrequently increase another. It should seem at
first, that the best remedy, which can be applied
to disorders introduced- by the passions into the
imagination, is well to consider the nature of the
object of the passions, and thoroughly to know the
world : and yet on the other hand, it may truly be

THE PA8SI0KS. S09

«^

$%\dy that the most certain way of succeeding
urOuld be to kqoVir nothing at all about the world.
If you know ^le pleasures of the world, if you
know by expertence the pleasure of gratifying a
passion, you will fall into the misfortune we wish
you to avoid, you will receive bad impressions j
you will acquire dangerous recollections, and a se-
ducing memory will be a new occasion of sin : but
if you do not know the pleasures of the world;
you will be likely to fonn ideas too flattering of it,
you will create images more beautiful than the
originals themsdves, and by the immense value
you set upon the victim, when you are just going
to offer up perhaps you will retreat, and not make
the sacrifice. Hence we often see persons, whom
the superstition, or avarice of their families hath in
childhood confined'^in a nunnery (suppose it were
aHowable in other cases, yet in this case done pre-
maturely) I say, these persons, not knowing the
world, wish for its pleasures with more ardor than
if they had actually experienced them. So, they,
wlio have never been in company with the great,
genemlly imagine tluit their society is fall of charms,
d^at all is pleasure in their company, and that a
circle 6f rich and fashionable people sitting in an
elegant -apartment is fer more livdy and animated
thafi one composed of people of inferior rank, and
middling fortune. Hence also it is, that they, who,
after having lived a dissipated life, have the rare,
hafilphless of renouncing it, do so with more sinee-
rity VbMi others, who never knew the vanity of
stiiih a life by experience. So very different are
thift wifnedies for disorders of the imagination !

But as in complicated disordelfs^ to which we;
haveitompared them, a wise physician chiefly- at^^
tends to thefmost dangerous complaint, and distri-
butes his Remedies so as to counteract those, wliich

VOL. V. 2d

SIO THE PASSIONS.

t

are less fatal, we will observe the same method ob
this occasion. Doubtless the most^dangerous way
to obtain a contempt for the pleasines of the worti]^
is to get an experimental knowledge of them, in
order to detach ourselves more easily from them by
the thorough sense we have of their vanity. We
hazard a fall by approaching too near, and sugh ve*
ry often is the ascendancy of the worl4 over us,
that we cannot detach ourselves from it though we
are disgusted with it* Let us endeavor then to pre-
serve our imagination pure 3 let us abstain from
pleasures to preclude the possibility of remember-
ing them ; let retirement, and, if it be practicable,
perpetual privacy, from the moment we .enter into
the world to the day we quit it save us from all bad
impressions, so that we may never know the effects,
which worldly objects would produce in our pas-
sions. This method sure and effectual is usel^st
and impracticable, in regard to such as have receiv-
ed bad impressions on their imagination. People
of this character ought to pursiie the second me-
thod we mentioned, that is to profit by their losses,
and derive, wisdom from their errors. When you
recollect sin, you may remember the folly and, pain
of it. Let the courtier, whose imagination is yet
full of the vain glory of a splendid court, remem-
ber the intrigues he hath known there, the craflt;
the injustice, the treachery, the dark and dismal
plar^ that are formed and executed there.
. I would advise such a man, when hjs p^sions
iBplicit him to sin, to call in the aid of som€( other
idea to strike and aifect his imagination. Let him
make choice of that out of the truths of religion,
which seemi^ most lil^ely to impress his mind, and
let him learn the art of instantly opposing impres-
sion against impression, and image against image ;
ior example, let him often fix his attention on death.

THE PASSIONS. 211

judgment, and hell ; let him often say to himself,
1 must die soon, I must stand before a severe tri-
bunal, and appear in the presence of an impartial
judge 5 let him go down in thought into that gulf,
where the wicked expiate in eternal torments their
momentary pleasures ; let him think he hears the
«ound of the piercing cries of the victims whom di-
vine justice sacrifices in hell; let him often weigh
in his mind the chains of darkness that load mise-
rable creatures in hell ; let him often approach the
fire that consumes them ; let him, so to speak,
scent the smoke that rises up for ever and ever ;
let him often think of eternity, and place himself
in that awful moment, in which the angel will lift
tip his hand to heaven, and swear by him that lixh
ethfor ever and ever, that there shall be time no
longer. Rev. x. 5, 6. and let the numerous reflec-
tions furnished by all these subjects be kept as corps
de reserve, always ready to fly to his aid, when the
enemy approaches to attack him.

In fine, to heal the disorders, which the passions
produce in the heart, two things must be done.
First the vanity of all the creatures must be ob-
served ; and this will free us from the desire of pos-
sessing and collecting the whole in order to fill up
the void, which single enjoyments leave. Secondly,
we must ascend from creatures to the Creator, in
order to get rid of the folly of attributing to the
world the perfection and sufficiency of Grod.

Let us first free our hearts from an avidity for
new pleasures by comprehending all creatures in
our catalogue of vanities. I allow, inconstancy,
and love of novelty, are in some sense rational.
It is natural for a being exposed to trouble to,
choose to change his condition, and as that in
which he is yields certain trouble, to try whether
another will not be something easier, it is natural

312 THE PASSIOl^.

to a marij who hs^h found nothing but imperfect
pleasure in former enjoyments, to desire new ob-
jects. The most noble souls, the greatest geniuses,
the largest hearts have often the most inconstancy
and love of novelty, because the extent of their
capacity and the spade of their wishes make them
feel, more than other men, the diminutiveuess and
incompetency of all creatures. But the misfi»w
tune is, man cannot change his situation without
entering into another almost like that from which
he came. Let us persuade ourselves, that there is
nothing substantial in creatures,, that all conditions,
beside characters of vanity common to idl human
things, have some imperfections peculiar to them-
sdves. If you rise out of obscurity, you will not
bave the troubles of obscurity, but you will have
those of conspicuous stations ; yoii will make talk
for every body, you will be exposed to envy, you
will be responsible to each individual for your con-
duct. If you quit solitude, you will not have the
troubles of solitude, but you will have those of so-
ciety; you' will live under restraint, you will lose
your liberty, inestimable liberty, the greatest trea-
sure of mankind, you will have to bear with tlie
faults of all people connected with you. If heaven
gives you a family, you will not have the trouble
of such as have none, but you will have others ne-
cessarily resulting from domestic connections ; you
will multiply your miseries by the number of
your children, you will fear for their fortune, you
will be in pain about their health, and you will
tremble for fear of their death. My brethren, I
repeat it again, there is nothing substantial in this
iife. Every condition hath difficulties of its own
as well as the common inanity of all human things.
If, in some sense, nothing ought to surpriz,e us less
than the inconstam:y of mankind and their love of

THE PASSIONS. S13

novelty, in ayiotheryiew^ nothing ought to astonish
us morea ^ at least there is nothing more weak and
senseless. A man, who thinks to remedy the va-
nity of earthly things by running from one object
to another, is like him, who, in order to determine
whether there be in a great heap of stones any
one capable of nourishing him, should resolve to
taste thein all one after another. Let us shorten
our labor. Let us put all creatures into one class.
Let us cry, vanity in all. If we determine to pun-
sue new objects, let us choose such as are capable
of satisfying us. Let us not seek them here below.
They are not to be found in this old world, whk^
God hath cursed. They are in the ?i€w keavenf,
and the new earthy which religion promises. To
comprehend all creatures in a catalogue of vanities
is an excellent rule to heal the heart of the disor«
ders of passion.

Next we must frequently ascend from creatures
to the Creator, and cease to consider them as the
supreme good. We intend here a devotion of all
times, places, and circumstances ; for, my brethren,
one great source of depravity in the most eminent
saints is to restrain the spirit of religion to certain
times, places and circumstances. There is an art of
glorifying God by exercising religion every where.
Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever you do, fl&r
all to the glory of God, 1 Cor. x. 13. Do yott
enjoy the pleasures of sense ? Say to yourself, God
is the author of this pleasure. The nouHshment I
derive from my food is not necessarily produced by
aliments, they have no natural power to move my
nierves, God hath communicated it to tiiem ; there
is no necessary connection between the motions of
iny senses and agreeable sensations in my soul, it
is Qod^ who hath established the union between
motion and sensation. The particles emitted bjr

S14 THE PASSIOKS.

this flower could not necessarily mov^ the lierves
of my smelly it is God who hath established
this law ^ the motion of my smelling nerves can*
not naturally excite a sensation of agreeable odor
in my soul, it is God who hath established this
union ; and so of the rest. God is supreme hap-
piness, the source from which all the charms of
creatures proceed. He is the light of the sun, the
flavor of food, the fragrance of odors, the harmony
of sounds, he is whatever is capable of producing
real pleasure, because he eminently possesses all
felicity, and because all kinds of felicity flow from
him as their spring. Because we love pleasure we
ought to love God, from whom pleasure proceeds ;
because we love pleasure we ought to abstain from
it, when God prohibits it, because he is infinitely
able to indemnify us for all the sacrifices we make
to his orders. To ascend from creatures to the
Creator is the last remedy we prescribe for the dis-
orders of the passions. Great duties they are :
but they are founded on strong motives.

Of these St. Peter mentions one of singular effi-
cacy, that is, that we are strangers and pilgrims
upon earth. Dearly beloved^ I beseech you as
strangers and pilgrims ^ abstain from fleshly liistSy
which war against the soul. The believers to whom
the apostle wrote this epistle, were strangers and
pilgrims in three senses — ^as exiles — as christians—
and as mortals.

I . As exiles. This epistle is addressed to such
strangers as were scattered throughout Pontus, Ga-
latia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia. But who
were these strangers ? Commentators are divided^
Some think they were Jews, who had been carried
out of their country in divers revolutions under
Tiglath Pileser, Salmaneser, Nebuchadnezzar, and
Ptolemy. Others think they were the Jewish chris-

THE PASSIONS. S15

tians^ who fle4 on account of the martyrdom of
Stephen* Certain it is these christians were stran-
gersy and probably exiles for religion. Now people
of this character have special motives to govern
their passions.

Strangers are generally very little beloved in the
place of their exile. Although rational people treat
them with hospitality ; though nature inspires some
with respect for the wretched of every character ;
though piety animates some with veneration for
people firm in their religious sentiments -, yet^ it
must be allowed, the bulk of the people usually
see them with other eyes ; they envy them the air
they breathe, and the earth they walk on ; they
consider them as so many usurpers of their rights;
and they think, that as much as exiles partake of
the benefits of government, and the liberty of
trade, so much they retrench from the portion of
the natives.

Beside, the people commonly judge of merit
by fortune, and as fortune and banishment seldom
go together, popular prejudice seldom runs high
in favor of exiles. Jealousy views them with a
suspicions eye, malice imputes crimes to them, in-
justice accuses them for public calamities

we will not enlarge. Let an inviolable fidelity to
the state, an unsuspected love to government, an
unreserved conformity to religion silence accusa-
tion, and compel, so to speak, an esteem that is
not natural and free. Moreover, religious exiles
have given up a great deal for conscience, and they
mu$jfc choose either to loose the reward of their for-
mer labors, ot to persevere. A man who hath only
taken a few easy steps in religion, if he let loose
his passions, may be supposed rational in this, his
life is all of a piece. He considers present inte^
r^t as the supreme good, and he employs himself

il6 TH£ PASSIONS.

wholly in advancing his present interest^ he lays
down a principle, he infers a consequence, and he
makes sip. produce all possible advantage. An
abominable principle certainly, but auniibrm train
of principle and consequence ; a fatal advantage
in a future state, but a real advantage in the pre-
sent : but such a stranger as we have described, a
man banished his country for religion, if he con*
tinues to gratify fleshly passions, is a contradictory
creature, a sort of idiot, who is at one and the
same time a martyr to vice and a martyr to virtue.
He hath the fatal secret of rendering both time and
eternity wretched, of arming against himself hea-
ven and earth. God and satan, paradise and bell.
On the one hand, for the sake of religion he quits
every thing dear, and renounces the pleasure of
bis native soil, the society of his friends, family
connections, and every prospect of preferment and
fortune; thus he is a martyr for virtue, by this he ren-
ders the present life inconvenient, and arms against
himself the world, satan, and hell. On the other
band, he stabs the practical part of religion, vio-
lates all the sacred laws of austerity, retirement^
humility, patience and love, all which religion most
earnejstlv recommends ; by so doing he becomes a
martyr for sin, renders futurity miserable, and arms
against himself God, heaven and eternity. The
same God who forbad superstition and idolatry, en-
joined all the virtues we have enumerated, and pro-
hibited every opposite vice. If men be determin-
ed to be damned, better go the broad than the-
narrow way. Who but a tnadman would altempt
to go to hell, by encountering the diflicutties, that
lie in the way to heaven.

2. The believers, to whom Peter wrote, were
strangers as christians ^ and therefore strangers be-
cause believei^. What is the fundamental maxiifnr

THfi iASSlON^; 21^

of the^christian relfgion ? Jesus Gliffit^tfid'f^ilite,
My ■kingdom is not of this jx;(7r/rf,^JItt{hkVlir.^'56.'
This ife tH^ tnaxim of a christiahv^Wfe 'first '^at'
leading ♦principle, his'kingdoin is ridfSj^Vhy'zvorld'f
Ws hap^hess aiidmiseryi 1ff«*aef*4tfott*iind diplr^S-'
«ioi^depiend on nothing iiithils WirW.'**' • ' ' ^
» TW(i ;riMt principle i^^th* gtdvtiiA' V(m apd^tWs
exh(yttskl6n. The passions dfesfcrfi^'fliis/iiiafx
mup^pOsihg ih^ world cdpabl^ orinafcKilg us liappr
or ittiseraWb: Ree^enge supposes Otri* htfnor^t:o;*de^'
pehd oh the world, on t^hedpinioh'of /those idi(ifs;i
who' have determined <hat a niftti of honor oiight to*
reVenge ah* iaffront. Anibif ibri suppoisei our eleva^
tion to depend on the- world,' that is| ori the dig-'
nities which' ambitious nien idolize. Avarice sup-
poses our riched depehd oii this worlds on gold j sil-
ver, and estates. - , . . . . ,

These are not the ideas of a christian. His ho-
nor zV 7iot of this world, it depends on the ideas of
God, who lis ajust dispenser of glory. His eleva-
tion is not of this world, it depends on thrones'
and crowns which God prepares. His. riches are
not in this worlds they depend on treasures in hea-
ven, wffere thieves do not break through and steal.
Matt. vi. 20. It is allowable for a man educated
in these great principles, but whose infirmity pre-'
vents his thinking on them ; it is indeed allowable
for a man, who cannot always bend his mind to'
reflection, meditation, and elevation above the
world I it is indeed allowable for such a man some-
times to unbend his mind, to amuse himself with
cultivating a tulip, or embellishing his head with a
crown : but that this tqlip, that this crown should
seriously occupy such a man ; that they should take'
up the principal attention of a christian, who hath
such Tefined ideas and such glorious hopes, thl^i
this is entirely incompatible.

vox. v. 2e

3. Ill iinew^ are strangers^ and pilgrims by m*
cessity of nature as mortal men. If this life wene
eterjaaU it .:|iv|ou]4 be a question, whether it wend
more advantageous to a man to gratify his pa«^
sions than to sub4u^ them \ whether the tiaqquillity^
the equanimity^' the calm . of a man perfecUy freet^
and entirely lOiiaster of bim^elf^ would not be pre-
ferable to tbfi,1{|roQble8» coi^icts and iurbulaaceoC
a man in bondage to hjs passions. Pausing, this
question, we will grant, that were this lue eternal^
prudence and selpove wdl understood would vet
quire some indulgence of passion. In this cajse
there would be an immense distance between ^m
rich and the poors &n4 riches should be acquired ;
there would be an immense distance betweep the
bigh and the low ; and elevation should be sought;
there would be an immense distance between bin$
who mortified his senses, and him who gratified
them, and sensual pleasures would be requisite.

But death, death renders all these things alike |
at least, it makes so little difierence between the
one and the other that it is hardly discernible. The
most sensible motive therefore to abate the passions
is death. The tomb is the best course of morality.
Study avarice in the coffin of a miser ; this is the
man, who accumulated heap upon heap, riches up-
on riches, see, a few boards inclose him, and a few
square inches of earth contain him. Study ambi-
tion in the grave of that enterprizing man ; see his
noble designs, his extensive projects, his boundless
expedients are all shattered and sunk in this fatal
gulf of human projects. Approach the tomb of the
proud man, and there investigate pride ; see the
mouth that pronouncethlofl;y expressions condemn^
ed to eternal silence, the piercing eyes that convuls-
ed the world with fear covered with a midnight
gloom the formidable arm, that distributed the des^

THE PA86tONS. tl^

tmiei • 0f i»a:tikii)d, without motion and life. Go
ta thetomb of the noUeiriftn, and there study qaa*
lity ; behold his magnificent tittes Ms royalatfpes-
tors,' his' flattering inscriptions^ bis. learned genea-
logies are all ^ne, or going to be k>^ with himself
in the same dust. Sttidy voInptiionMess at the
graye of the voluptuolis ; see^his sensesare destto j-
ed^i Wa organs broken to pieces, his b(xns^$ scattth-
ed\ at the gravels mouth, atid the l^hol* temple of
99«salil pleasure subverted fiN3m its -fimndationsV

Mere we finish thii discourse'. There is a gi^edt'
diflbreiM>s between thiiland other snbj^i^ til mis*
cussion. When we treat of a pdint of doctriAei^ i{t*
19 sufficient that yon hea^ it, atid ri^emt^r'ii'i)^'
ccHisequences drawn from -it. When t^e ekbHih jai-
d^tiil^ text, it is enoi%hthat'ybW undersf^nVTit,
a)nd ir^cdteot it. Whefi we^prem^home'apartictQaf'
diU't^ of morality^ it is sufficietlt that yon ap|^ it;
to ittie particular circumstande to whiOTit '^6n|gi;.

But what regards the pa&dk>Bi^ is of uhiVensal and
perpetual use: We always ctey - the principles- of
these passions within us, and we should ialway^ have'
assistance at hand to subdue thenv. Alwajs sctr^
rounded with objects of otir passions,^; we ishbtdd
always be guarded against th^tni W^ shptiNJI' re-
raesnber these thiugS], when we see thfe' ^isfhdfits of
fortune, to fi*ee ourselves ftoih immddei^Ai^at^^
motit to them ; before hunvaa grandeur ie diespiiklei'
it'^bftfore sensual olgects to subdtttf^lim'/' W
ouiuenemy to forgive4iim; btfcM^^A-jfeftds; ^1(1^
arid fomities to bSd ouhsetf ^ diseii|[^gefd W6ttxihciti.;
We ': should always exitmine in u^iat b^rt of - piit*^'
sehes the passions hold'. their thrOii^ whether iii-
themind, the senses^ the imaginaticti^ or tfaehedrt.'
We should atways examine Aether they havtedel-'
ptraved the heart, deSHed the" im^gtoatibn, pervert-
ed the fiienses, ot blinded the mipd; We should

^9(k TH£<' PA»SlOtf||.

^vpf rememl^r,, .tb?^t- Ave 9x:e]sirang€rs updn earth,
th^t tp[ this our qo;i4itiop.c(tt]$^us^ our raligioii in-»
vjtei^ ^s, . and ovir i:i;ature cpmpels us. ,
. . But^ aUs ^pitr iSijthis, it is this general influence,
whicli thes^ pdiiort^tions ought, to have, over our
li v^s, . that ips^es u/s ifear, we have addresfsedithem.
tp y^u in v^ix^ WhjBn we treat of a point of docr
tjrn€(^ w^ may persuade ourselves it hathbeen under*
fltpod. WJbjen yye explaip a diflScult text we flatter
our^j^tve^ wq iv^ivei^hrownsorne light upon it. -.When
w^ .i;i^ a qiofa) duty,, we hope the next occasion
wiU,1^9g;i.(i to yqur memory: and yethowofteii
t^ve^ivife^deceived ourselves pnthese articles.!: Haw«
onjQn.^ve^fi^ri hop^' been vain ! . Hovr pften have.
ypmmt us. empty Qfvay, ^even, though w^.demand-/
ed,£|9 0ie f What will be done to day ?. Wl^ that
knofiTjf^a littie.of piankind can flatter h.im3el£ ithat
adiscoui;is^ inten^e^s in regard to a great, ountber,
to.cbange^allj^ to reform all^ to renew all, will be
(|irectgd to; its true design? '■

fei^jt.O God! There yet remains one resource,,
it h thy grace,: it is thine aid, grace that we have
a thousand times turned into h^chnousn^ssy and
whijQt^ we bay^ a thousand. times rejected: lyfet af*
ter ail; listing grace, . which, w^ mpsfcibumbly ven-
ture, to implore. When we apprpach the enemy
w.^ eai^pe^tly beseech ^jip^, t€<i^qh ^our hands, to toar
^^4fiM J^^^!^^,^JP iifiS^^ / Wliiert we did attack a
tj^fj^^^l we fei^epiiy. besqught theo to rendei'.it . ac-

ceps^|5le;to .|i^^4i'Pw^ P'^^y^^?*^ heaven, our

ej^^iq^fled.tjefore.us, thofi didst bring us into the

strong.c,ityy and, ^idst lead us into Edpni^ Psal. Ix/
^V| ,^h(e».walls of, many a; Jericho fell at the sound
o^^pJO;^ !^pi|n;^peti^, at the slight of thine ark and the
approj^ciji of thy. priests : but the old man is an ene-
my lap more £oi;midable.th^ the best disciplined
armje^, and it is harder to^ conquer the passions

THE PASSIONS. ggl

■

than to beat down the walls of a city ! O help us
to subdue this old man^ as thou hast assisted us to
evercome other enemies ! Enable us to triumph
over our passions as thou hast enabled us to suc-
ceed in levelling the walls of a city ! Stretch out
thy holy arm in our favor in this church, as in the
field of battle ! So be the protector both of the
state and the church, crown our efforts with such
success that we my offer the most noble songs of
praise to thy glory ! Amen.

f ,

«

I \ ' ■ » t

;>!

• I • -

.J

■ ..■ . ■':

S^MON I St.

-J ■ • -

*RANSiENT DEVOTIONS.

HosBA vio 4.

I i *
I

• : \-
. .1

BfhMfkt i»M shaH r io uHtb thit i D iaSitihi kol^ ^tV^ i
doMtUothef F&r yoUir j^oodH9i^ \%us aMkfrni^ cluod^ Mid iA
ibe early de^ it gedh Uway. ^

npHE church hath seldom seen happier days tba^
JL those described in the nineteenth chapter of
Exodus. God had never diffused his benedictions
on a people in a richer abundance. Never had a
people gratitude more lively, piety more fervent%,
The red sea had been passed, Pharaoh and his iiH
Solent court were buried iq the waves, acc€^3 to the
land of promise was opened, Moses hfid been a4-!
xpitted on the holy mountain to derive felicity from
God the source, and sent to distribute it amon£
his countrymen to these choice favors promise^ o^
new and greater blefisiQg$ jet were added, and Gq4
said, j/(f have seen \what JL did unto the Eg^ptianf^
and how I bare ifou en^qgles mngs^ and brought
you uptp myself. Now there/ofeg ^ ye milvbeif
''^^ looice indeed^ andjc^^ %! covenant » then j^,
'! )fe q peculifif treasure junto v\e above all peq^
^although all the earth be. , mine 3 ver.^^4i, &.
le pepple were deeply affected witbthi^TDUectioQ
miring. Each individuid entered into the^jsame

224 TRANSI,£KT DEVOTIONS*

views, and seemed animated wfth* the same passum,
all hearts where united, and one voice expressed
the sense of all the tribes of\ferael. All that the
Lord hath spoken we will do, ver. 8. But this de-
votion had one great defect, it lasted only forty
days. In forty days the deliverance out of Egypt,
the catastrophe of Pharaoh, the passage through
the sea, the articles of the covenant; in forty days
vows, promises, oaths, all were effaced from the
heart and forgotten. Moses was absent, the light-
ning did not glitter, the thunder claps did not roar,
and the Jews made a calf m Horeby worshipped
that molten image, and changed their glorious God
into the similitude of an ox thdt^^atetk grass,
Tsal. qxi. 19) 20. . It was this that drew upon
Moses this cutting reproof from God, Go, said he
to Moses, to that Moses always fervent for the sal-
vation of his ^ people, always ready to plead for
them, go, get thee down, for thy people, zvhich
thou broughtest out of the land of Egypt have cor-
rupted themselves. They have quickly turjied
aside out of the way which I commanded them,
Exod. xxxii. 7, 8. They have quickly turned
aside, this is the great defect of their devotion, this
that which renders all devotion incomplete.
* Do you know this portrait, my brethren ? Hath
this history nothing in it like yours ? Are any days
more solemn thin i^dch as we observe in our pre*
sent circumstances ? Did God' ever draw ttear to us
with more favors than he hath this day ? Did we
ever approach him with more fervor ? Oh the one
hand, the beginning of another year recalls to
ihind the serious arid alarming discourses, which
the ministers of Jesus Christ addressed^ to us oil
the last anniversary, the many strokes given, t6;
whom? To the enemies of G<5ti» ? Alas'? T6 tfte
state^nd the church ! Many cut ^ff In the' fifeld of

TKANSIENT DEV0TI0N5, 325

Jbattle^ many others Carried . away in the ordinary
and* inevitable course of things, many perils in one
word, with which we were threatened^ but which
thy mercy> O God, hath freed us from ! On the
other hand, this sacred table, these aUgUst sym^
bols, these earnests of our eternal felicity, all these
objects, do they not render this day one of the
most singular in our lives ?

If heaven hath thus heard the earth (we are
happy to^ acknowledge it, my brethren, and we
eagerly embrace this opportunity of publishing
your praise) the earth hath heard the heaven. To
judge by appearance, you have answered our wishes,
and exceeded our hopes. You were exhorted to
prepare for the Lord's sUpper, you did prepare for
it. You were called to public worship, you came«
, You were exhorted to attend to the word of God>
you did attend to it. You" were required to form
resolutions of a holy life, you made these i:esolu«
tions. tt seemed, while we saw you come with
united ardor this morning to the table of Jesus
Christ, it seemed as if we heard yoU say, with the
Israelites of old. All that the Lord hath spoken ive
will do.

But we declare^ my brethren, a cloud comes over
the bright scene of this solemnity. I fear, shall I
say the forty? Alas, 1 fear the four succeeding
days ! These doors will be shut, this table will be
removed, the voice of the servants of God will
cease to sound in your ears, and, I fear the Lord
will say of you, they have quickly turned a}fide out
of the way which I commanded them.

Let us not content ourselves with foreseeing thii$
evil, let us endeavor to prevent it. This is the de-
sign of the present discourse in which we will treat
of transient devotions. To you, in the name of
God, we address the words, th^ tender wprds^

VOL. Y. 2' F

22t6 TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

which will occasion more reflections than thejrtnay
seem at first to do, but which no reflection can '^x-
haust, O Ephrairrij what shall I do unto thee ? O
Judahy ivhat shall I do unto thee ? For your good-
ness is as a morning cloudy and as the early dew
it goeth away.

O Almighty God ! We humbly beseech thee,
enable us in the offerings we make to thee to resem-
ble thee in the favors, which thou bestowest upon
us ! Thy gifts to us are without repentance y thy co-
venant with us contains this clause, the mountains
shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my
kindness shall not depart Jrom thee, neither shall
the covenant of my peace be removed, I have sworn
that I will not be wroth with thee ! O that our of-
ferings to thee may be without repentance, O that
we may be able to reply, the mountains shall de^
part, and (he hills be removed,: but my fidelity
shall never depart from thee, neither shall the de-
dication, which I have made of myself to thee,
ever be removed ! I have sworn, and I zvitl per-^
form it, that I will keep thy righteous judgments:
Amen.

O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee f O Ju--
dah, what shall I do unto thee f Ephraim, Judah,
are terms of the text, that have very little need of
explication. You know, that the people of God
were united in one state till the time of Jereboam,
when he rent a part from RelK)boam the son of So-
lomon, thus two kingdoms were constituted, that
of Judah and that of IsraeL Jerusalem was the
capital city of Judah, and of Israel Samaria was
the metropolis, and it is sonietimes called Ephraim
in scripture. By Judah and Ephraim the prophet
then means both these kingdoms. This wants no
proof, and if there be any thing worth remarking
on this occasion, it is that most interpreters, who

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. . 22?

I

are often the. echoes of one another, describe the
ministry of Hosea as directed only, to the kingdom
of Israel, whereas it is clear by the text, and by
several other passages, that it was addressed both
to Israel and Judah.

But of all unlucky conjectures, I question whe-
ther there be one more so than that of some di-i
vines, who think our text prophetical. In their
opinion the goodness mentioned in the text is the
mercy of God displayed in the gospel. The dew
signifies Jesus Christ. The morning, thy goodness
is like the morning dew intends the covenant of
grace. As every one proposes his opinion under
some appearance of evidence, it is said in favor of
this, that the expression, thy goodness, does not
signify the goodness of the people, but that which
is manifested to the people, and in proof of this
the idiom of the Hebrew tongue is alleged, with
divers passages that justify this tour of expression,
as this, my people are bent to^ their backsliding,
that is to backsliding from me. The dezv, say
they, signifies the Messiah, for he is promised un-
der that emblem in many passages of scripture.
They add further, the morning, signifies the new
dispensation ^f the gospel, which is often announc-
ed under this idea by the prophets, and all this text,
thy goodness is as the early dew which goeth aivay,
opens a wonderful contrast between the law and
the gospel. The law was like a storm of hail de-
stroying the fruits of the earth, but the gospel is a
dew that makes everything fruitful ; thelaw was a
dark night, but the gospel is a fine day ; thy good-
ness is like the morning dezv zvhich goeth away,
that is to say, which cometh. Here are many
good truths out of place. Thy goodness may sig-
nify, for any thing we know, goodness exercis^
towards thee; the Messiah is .represented aj a diio *•

%iS TRAKSIEKT 0EVOTIONS.

the gospel economy is promised under the emblem
of the morning J all this is true, but all this is not
the sense of the text. The word goodness^ which
is the first mistake of the exposition just now giv-
en, may be understood of piety in general. It hath
that meaning in many passages of scripture. The
substantive derived from it is usually put for piouir
persons, and according to a celebrated critic, it is
from the word hasidim^ the pious, that the word
essenes is derived, a name given to the whole sect
stmong the Jews, because they possessed a more
emin^t piety than others. A goodness tike the
morning dew is a seeming piety lohich goeth away,
that is of short duration, and all these words, O
Ephraim^ what shall I do unto thee ? O Judah
^whatshalll do unto thee? Foryonr goodness is
as a morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth
away, are ai reproof from God to his people for the
unsteadiness of their devotions. In this light we
will consider the text, and shew you first the na-
ture—and secondly the unprofitableness of tran-
sient devotions,

I. Let us first enquire the nature of the piety in
question. What is this goodness or piety, that is as
a morning cloud, and goeth away as the early dew?
We do not understand by this piety either those
deceitful appearances of hypocrites, who conceal
their profane and irreligious liearts under the co-
ver of ardor and religion, or the disposition of
those christians, who fall through their own frailty
from high degrees of pious zeal, and experience
motions of sin after they have felt exercises of
grace. The devotion we mean to describe goes
.^rther than the first : but it does not go so far as
the last.

The transient derotio», of which we dpeak, is

TRAKSIEVT DEVOTIONS. 3Sd

not hypocnsy. Hypocrisy cannot suspend the
strokes of divine jnstice pne single moment^ and k
is mor^ likely to inflame than to extinguish the
righteous indignation of God. It is npt to hypo**
crites that God addressed this tender language, O
Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee ? O Judah
what shall I do unto thee f Their sent^ce is de-
clared, their punishment is ready. Ye hypocrites^
well did Esaias prophesy of you^ sayings this peo*
pie draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and
honoreth me with their lips, but their heart is far
from me. Wo unto youy scribed and pharisees,
hypocrites. The portion of hypodrites shall be
weeping and gnashing of teeth. Matt. xv. 7. x^ciii,
13. and xxiv> 51.

Nor is the piety we mean to describe that of the
weak and revolting believer. How imperfect soe*
ver this piety may be, yet it is real. It is certainly
a very mortifying consideration to a believer that
he should be at any time hemmed in, confined, and
clogged in his devotional exercises. In some gol-
den days of his life, forgetting the world, and whol*
ly employed about heavenly things, how happy
' was he, how delicious his enjoyment, when he sur*
mounted sense and sin, ascended to God like Mo-
ses formerly on the holy mount, and there converse
ed with his heavenly Father concerning religion,
salvation, and eternity ! O how richly did be then
think himself indemnified for t^e loss of time in
worldly pursuits by pouring his complaints into the
bosom of Qod^ by opening all his heart, by say-
ing to him. with inspired men. Lord, thou knowest
that I love thee I It is good for me to draw near
to God ! My soul is satisfied as with marrow and
fatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joy-
ful lips 1 1 say, it is a very mortifying thing to him,
after sifch elevations in the enjoyment of sacbmag^

^0 TJIANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

'Hificent objects^ to be obliged through the frailty
of his nature to go down again into the world, and
to employ himself, about what ? A suit of cloaths,
a menial servant, a nothing ! Above all, it is very
mortifying to him, after be hath tasted pleasures
so pure, to feel himself disposed to sin ! But after
all, this piety, though very imperfect, is genuine
and true. It should, bumble us, but it should not
destroy us, and we should be animated with a spi-
rit too rigid, were we to confound this piety with
that, which is as the fnorning cbud, and as the
early dew that goeth away.

The piety we speak of lies between these two dis-
positions. As I said before, it doth not go so far
in religion as the second, but it doth go beyond
the first. It is sincere, in that it is superior to hy-
pocrisy : but it is unfruitful, and in that respect it
is inferior to the piety of the weak and revolting
christian. It is sufficient to discover sin, but not
to correct it ; sufficient to produce sincere resolu-
tions, but not to keep them ; it softens the heart,
but it doth not renew it ; it excites grief, but it
doth not eradicate evil dispositions. It is a piety
of times, opportunities and circumstances, diver-
sified a thousand ways, the effect of innumerable
causes, and to be more particular, it usually owes
its origin to public calamities, or to solemn festi-
vals, or to the approach of death : but it expires as
soon as the causes are removed.

I. By piety like the early dew that goeth awayy
we mean that, which is usually excited by public
calamities. When a state prospers, when its com-
merce flourishes, when its armies are victorious, it
Acquires weight and consequence in the world.
Prosperity is usually productive of crimes. Con-
science falls asleep during a tumult of passions, as
depravity continues security increases, the patience

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS- SS^l

of God becomes weary, and he punishes either by
taking away prosperity, or by threatning to take
it away. The terrible messengers of divine justice
open their commission. The winds y which he makes
his angelSi begin to utter their voices : jiames of
JirCy QonsixixxieA his minisierSy display their fright-
ful light. Pestilence, war, famine, executioners of
the decrees of heaven prepare to discharge their
dreadful office. One messenger called death, and
another called helly receive their bloody commis-
sion to kill zvith swordy and with hunger y and with
deatky the fourth part of the earthy Rev. vi. 8.
Each individual sees his own doom in the public
decree. Capernaum exalted to heaven is going to
be thrust down to helly Lukex. 15. Jonahs walk
about Nineveh, and make the walls echo with this
alarming proclamation. Yet forty days and Nine-
veh shall be overthrown. Yet forty days and Ni-
neveh shall be overthrown, chap. iii. 4. Or, to lay
aside borrowed names, ismd to make our portrait
like the original, y6ur ministers, free from their
natural timidity or indolence, despising those petty
tyrants, or shall I rather say those diminutive in-
sects, who amidst a free people would have us the
only slaves ; who while all kinds of vices have free
course would have the wo7*d of God boundy and
would reduce the exercise of the reformed ministry
to a state more mean and pusillanimous than that
of court bishops, or the chaplains of kings ; I say
your ministers have made you hear their voice, they
have gone back to your origin and laid before you
the cruel edicts, the sanguinary proscriptions* the
barbarous executions, the heaps of mangled car-
cases, which were, if I may so speak, the first
foundations of this republic, From what you were
then they have proceeded to what you are now;
they have represented to you the end proposed by

93i TRAKSIEKT BEVOTtOtrs.

the Supreme Being in distingaiahing you by so ms^
ny merciful advantages ; they have told you, it
was to engage you to inform idolatrous nations of'
the truth, to nourish and favor it in cruel and pei^
secuting countries, to support it at home, and so
to cast out profaneness, infidelity, and atheism.
They have repeatedly urged you to come to a set^
tlement of accounts on these subjects, and they
have delivered in against you such an interrogatory
as this ; are the hands which hang down, and (he
feeble knees lifted upf Doth superstition cover
the truth in any places of your government ? Is
the affliction of Joseph neglected ? Doth religion
insolently lift its head among you, and is it pro^
tected by such as are bound to suppress it } They
have shewn you the Deity ready to punish an ol>
stinate perseverance in sin, and, if you will for*
give the expression, they have preached, illuminat-
ed by lightning, and their exhortations have been
enforced by thunder. Tfien every one was struck,
all hearts were united, every one ran to the breach,
to turn away the tvrath of God, lest he should de-
stroy us all, Psal. cvi. 23. The magistrate came
down from his tribunal, the merchant quitted his
commerce, the mechanic laid aside his work, yea,
the very libertine suspended his pleasures : vows,
prayers, solemn protestations, tears, relenting,
promises, sincere promises, nothing was wanting
to your devotions. Then the angels rejoiced, a
compassionate God smiled, the corn revived^ war
was hushed, and was dying away : but sdong with
the first tide of prosperity came rolling back the
former depravity, the same indifference to truth,
the same negligence of religion, the same infide-
lity, the same profanity. This is the first kind of
that piety, which is as the early dew that goeth
axvay. Let us study ourselves in the image of the

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. 233

Jews described in the context. Come^ say they,
when the prophet had predicted the Babylonish
captivity to Judah, and the carrying away into
Assyria to the ten tribes, cpmCy and let us return
tinto the Lordy for he hath ioruy and he zvill heal
uSy he hath smitten^ and he will bind us up. Af-
ter two or three days he will revive us, and we
shall live in his sCght, ver. \^y After they had
rest, they did evil again befoT'e thee (these are the
words of Nehemiah) therefore thou didst leave
them in the hand of their enemies^ When they re^
turnedy a?id cried unto thee, thou heardst them
from heaveny and many times didst thou deliver
them, according to thy mercies, O Ephraim what
[shall I do unto thee ? OJudah, what shall I do unto
thee ?^for your goodness is as a morning cloudy
and as the early dew it goeth away, chap. ix. 28.
2. In a second class of transient devotions we
place that, which religious solemnities produce.
Providence, always watching for our salvation>
hath established in the church not only an ordinary
ministry to cultivate our piety, but some extraor-
dinary periods proper to invigorate and bring it to
maturity. Thus propbrtioiiirig itself to our frailty*
How considerable soever the truths of religion are^
it is certain, they lose their importance by ourhear-i
ing them always proposed in the same circum*;
stances, and the same points of light. - There ard
some days, which put on I khoiv not what of the
extraordinary, and put in motion, so tb sipei&F,' thb
first great powers of religion. ' 'Tothis our fe^ivals
are directed, and this is brie of the principd* t^ises
of the Lord's supper. Were tWs ordinance not
appointed with this, view, as soiiie affirm, had nbt
God annexed some peculiar benediction to it, yet
it would be a weak pretence to keep from the
Lord's table^ a^d the use generally granted would

i

Sd4 TRANSIENT PEVOTIOKS.

always be a sufficient reason to induce those t^
frequent it, to have their salvation at heart. But^
however this may be, it is certain^ that such days
occasion the sort of devotion Vfe are describing,
and usually produce a piety like the morning cloud,
and the early dew that goeth away.

We do not intend here to describe a kind q£
christians too odious to be put even into this vi->
cious class« For^ my brethren, we have a Tery
singular sort of people among us, who though tbey
live in the practice of all worMly licentiousness^
will fre(|uent the Lord's tabfe^ in spite of all the
pains we take to shew their unworthiness^ and to
k^eep them away. They will pass through a kind of
preparation, and for this purpose they retrench a lit-
tle portion of time from their course of ticentiousness^
set out however, with so much accurate calculation
that it is easy to see they consider devotion more in
the light of a disagreeable task than in that of a
hply enjoyment. They suspend.tbeir babits of sm.
the whole day before, and aU the live long day after
the communion. In this, interval they receive the
!l(!^9rd's supper, all the whale determining to returi:^
to their old course of life. Wb^ devotk>n, in which
the soql burui^ with love to ^4d^ldly pleasure, while
it e£S^ts^ to play off the treaDh^<ms^peu:'t of love tot
religion and God ! A devotion that dii^utes with
Jesus. Christ a right to three days, gives them up
with regret and constraint, and keeps alt along
muf mufing at tbe genius of a religion, which puts
the poor insulted, soul on the rack, and forces it tQt
live three whol^ days without gaming and debauch-
ery i .A devotion deep in the plot of Judas to be*
tray the Saviour at his own table ! These people
need not be characterized. We never administer
the Lord's supper without protesting against them;.
-we never say any thii>g to tbemy but. Wo, zoo be

TRAKSIENT DEVOTIONS. 235

to you ; and though, through a discipline of too
much lenity, they escape excommunication, yet
never can they escape the anathemas, which God
in his word denounces against unworthy comitfu-
nicants.

We mean here people of another character. It
is he, among christians, who doth not live in the
practice of aU sins, but who doth reserve some, and
some of those which, says the gospd, they who
commit shall not inherit the kingdom of God^
1 Cor. vi. 10. This man d<)th not with a brutal
madness commit such crimes as harden him beyond
reflection and immerse, but he hath a sincere de-
' «ire to a certain degree to correct himself. He
takes time enough to prepare himself for the Lord*s
45upper, and then he examines his conscience, me^
ditates on the great truths of religion, the justice of
its laws, the holiness of every part, and the rich
present, which God bestowed on the church in the
person of his own Son. He is affected with tfvese
objects, he applies these truths to himself, he pro*
mises God to reform : but, a few days after the
coihmunion, he not only falls into one or two vi-
cious actions, but he gives himself up to a vicious
habit, and persists in it till the next communiorf^
when he goes over again the same exercises of de-
votion, which end again in the same vices, and d(y
his whole life is a continual round of sin and re^
. pentanc^, repentance and sin. . T^is is a i^econd
sort of people, whose devotions are transient.

3. But, of all devotions of this kind, that, ivhfch
fieeds describing the most, because it comes nearest
to true piety, and is most likdy to be confounded
with it, is that which is excited by the/e-ar of deaths
and which vanishes as soon as the fear subsides.

The most emphatical, the most urgent, and the
wof^ patheti<ifd of aU preachers is death. What catt

I

^36 TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

be said in this pulpit, which death doth not slay with
tenfold force ? What truth can we explain, which
death doth not explain with more evidence ? Do
we treat of the vanity of the world ? So does death ;
but with much more power. The impenetrable
veils which it throws over all terrestrial objects, the
midnight darkness in which it involves thetn, the
irrevocable orders it gives us. to depart, the insur-
mountable power it employs to tear us away, re-
present the vanity of the world better than the
most pathetical sermons. Do we speak of the
horrors of sin ? Death treats of this subject more
fully and forcibly than we; the pains it brings,
the marks it makes upon us while we are dying,
the grave, to which it turns our eyes as our habita-
tion after death, represent the horror of sin more
than the most affecting discourses. Do we speak
'of the value of divine mercy ? Death excels in set-
ting this forth too ; hell opening under us, execu-
tioners of divine vengeance i-anging themselves round
our bed, the sharp instruments held over us, repre-
sent the mercy of God more fully than the most
touching discourses. No sermons like these ! When
then a sickness supposed to be mortal attacks a
man, who hath knowledge and sentiment enough
to render him accessible to motives and reflections,
but who hath not either respect enough for holiness,
or love enough for God thoroughly to attach him-
self to virtue, then rises this morning cloudy this
early dew that goeth away.

I appeal to many of you. Recall, each of you,
that memorable day of your life, in which sudden
fear, dangerous symptoms, exquisite pain, a pale
physician, and more than all that an universal
faintness and imbecility of your faculties seemed
to condemn you to a hasty death. Remember the
prudence you then had, at least appeared to have.

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. !i8f

to make your salvation your only care, banishing
all 'Company, forbidding your own children to ap-
proach, and conversing with your pastor alone.
Remember the docility with which, renouncing all
reluctance to speak of your own faults, and all de-
sire to hear of those of other people, you respect-
fully attended to every thing we took the liberty
to say, we entered on the mortifying subject, you
submitted to the most humbling and circumstan-
tial detail, you yourself filled up the list with arti-
cles unknown to us. Recollect the sighs you ut-
tered, the tears you shed, the reproofs you gave
yourself, yea the odious names by which you de-
scribed yourself. Remember the vows, the resolu-
tions, the promises you made. What are become
of all these fine projects o^ conversion and repen-
tance, which should have had an influence over all
your life ? The degree of your piety was regulated
by the degree of your malady. Devotion rose and
fell with your pulse. Your zeal kept tiiflfe with
your fever, and as the one^ decreased the other
died away, and the recovery of your health was
the resurrection of sin. This man, this praying
man, this holy soul, then fiiil of pious ejaculations
and meditations, is now brim-full of the world.
You are the original of the portrait in the text, and
your piety is as the morning clou dp and as the ear^
fy dew that goeth away.

II. We have seen the nature, now let lis attend
to the insufficiency of this kind of devotion. Let
us endeavor in this second part of our discourse
to feel the energy of this reproof. O Ephraim,
tohat shall I do unto thee ? O Judah what shall I
do unto thee ? for your goodness is as a morning
cloudy and as the early dew that goetk away.

1. Oa a day like tbis^ in which we have par-

^$ tRiUr^IENT DEVOTIONS.

taken of what is most tender in religion^ bxA
which we ought to yield to tte soft feelings, which
religion is so fit to excite, let us advert to a singu*
lar kind of arguinent proposed in the text against
transient devotions, that is, an argument oi senti-
ment and love.

Certainly all the images, which it pleaseth Grodto
use in scripture to make himsdf known to us, those
taken firom our infirmities, our passions, our hatred,
or our love, all are too imperfect to'represent a God,
whose elevation above man renders it impossrible to
describe him by any thing human. However, aH
these images have a bottom of truth, a real mean-
ing agreeable to the nature of God, and propor-
tioned to bis eminent and infinite excdlmice.

God represents himself here under the image of
3 prince, who had formed an intimate connection
with one of his subjects. The subject seems deep-
ly sensible of the honor done him.* The prince sig*
nifies his esteem by a profusion of favors. Tbs
subject abuses them. The prince reprehends him.
The subject is insensible and hard. To reproof
threatnings are added, and threatnings are suc-
,ceeded by a suspension of fevors. The subject
seems moved, affected, changed. The prince re-
ceives the penitent with open arms, and crowns
his reformation with a double effusion of bountifiil
donations. The ungrateful subject abuses them
again. The prince reproves him again, threatens
him again, and again suspends his liberality. To
avert the same evil the selfish ingrate makes use of
the former method, avails himself of the influence,
which the esteem of the prince gives him, and
again he obtains forgiveness. The prince loves
this violence : but the perfidious subject knowing
his goodness returns to jiis ungratefiil behavior as
often as his bountiful Lord yields to his own indi-

ITEAKSIENT BBVOTIOHS*^ SS&

nation to mercy aii4 e^teem^ smd iims becomes
equally barbarous, whether he seems afiected with
tbe benevoleiice of Ms priiiee, otr whether be seems
to despise it. For, my brethren, il is much Jess
difficult to separate ones self wholly fi\)m a pithless
frieud than to conduct onea sdf properly to one
who is faithless only by fits. These equiirooal re-
formations, these appearances of esteem are nmdi
more cruel tban total ingraliitiide, and open avow-
ed hatred. In an entire rupture the mind is pre^
sently at sk point : but in such imperfect ooimee*
tions as these a thousand opposite khowghts pro^
duce a violent conflict in tbe flm4. Shati I conii^
tenanoe ingratitude, shall I discottsage repentasce?
% repeat it a^n, though this image is infinitely be-
neath the majesty of God^ yet it is that, which he
hatb thought proper to eni^iioy. & Ephraim,
wk€U sAisUlJ do uni^ tkee ? O hidak^. what shaA
I do unto thee ? for ycmr goodness isOs a mom*
ifig cloudy and as tbe earljf dew that gaeth away.
O Ephraim, O Judah, why do you read vKy heart
asunder by tucns with youir virtue asid your yice ^
Why not aUow me either t^ give myself entirely tc^
jQf^9 or to detach myself eistirely from yon I W hy
do you not suffer me to givea free course either to
my esteem or to my displeasure ? Why do you not'
aUow me to glorify myself by youir repentance, «r
by your ruiist? Your devotions hold my hand: yo«r
crimes inflame my anger. Shali I destroy a peo-
ple appealfag to my demency ? ShinH I protest a
]»eople tnioipling upon my laws. O Ephraim,
tahat shall I do unto thee? O Judahy what shall I
do untQ thee ? for your goodness is as a morning
cloudr 09id as the earbf dew it goeth axoay.

2. Consider secondly the injustice <^ theses i»Mi'
tions. Though they are vain, yet people expect
Qod t(^ rewacd them. Hear these words, theyi seok

.S40. tHAKSIENT PEVOTION5.

me daily, and delight to know my ways, as a na-
tion that did righteousness : but, say they, where*
fore have we fasted, and thou see st not? Where^
fore have we afflicted our soul, and thou takest no
knowledge, Isa. IviiL 2, 3. Though these com-
plaints were unjust, yet, what is very remarkable,
God sometimes paid attention to them ; for though
he sees the bottom of men's hearts, and distinguish-
es real fro^i apparent piety, yet he hath so much
love for repentance, that he sometimes rewards the
bare appearance of it. See how he conducts hini-
self in regard to Ahab. Ahab was a wicked king.
God denounced judgments against him, and was
about to inflict liifun. Ahab tore his garments^
covered himself with sackcloth and ashes, and lay
in the dust. What said God to Elijah ? Seest thou
how Ahab humbleth himself before me ? Because
he humbleth himself before me, I will not bring
the evil, 1 Kings xxi. 29. Not bring the evil !
Why, hath Ahab prohibited idolatry ? Hath he re-
Stored Naboth's vineyard ? Hath he renounced his
treaties with the enemies of God ? No. Yet Ahab
humbleth himself, and because he humbleth himself
1 will not bring the evil. So true it is, that God
sometimes rewards a mere shadow of repentance.

The Jews knew this condescension of God, and
they insulted it in the most odious manner. Come-
let us return unto the Lord, for he hath torn, and
he will heal us, he hath smitten, and he will bind
us up. After two days will he revive us, in the
third day he will raise us up ; and when he hath
raised us up, and re-established us, we will follow
our former course of life. When the tempest is
over, we will again blaspheme theCreator of storms.
Is not this the very height of injustice ?

3. There is, let us observe, a manifest contra'-
diction between thesq two periods of life, between

TRANSIENT P£VOTI0NS. ^M

ihe^t of our devotion and that .of our sin. What
destroys one, necessarily subverts both, and a rea*
sonable man acting con^^istently ought to choose,
either to have no periods of devotion, or to perpe-
tuate them. Yes, w^ should choose, either a real
inward piety >to influence our practice, or none of
the superficial sentiments, that produce a profes-
sion of it. We should choose either to act openly-
like an unmovable philosopher, or shall I rather
say a brute beast, when we seem v to be upon the
verge of the grave, or that the piety excited then
should continue as long as we live in case of recove-
ry. There is a palpable contradiction in liaving
both these dispositions. When the state is. in dan<*
ger, and a^ solemn fast is kept, what is supposed ?
That there is a just God governing the universe,
dispensing good and evil, sooner oclater.'destroying
rebellious nations, Bnd exercising a justice :moFe
or less severe according . to thie duration of his pa-
tience. If we believe all this, we should endedvor
to regulate the state by these principles, and if we
do not believe it, we should not. humble ourselveii
and fast, and bow dozen our heads like a bulrush^
What is supposed by the prayers, and tears, and
proi;est;itions we bring to the; table of Jesus Christ?
That God loves us, that he hath so loved us as to
give us his Son, that a christian ought to return Je^
ws Christ love for love, and life for life, ilf we be*
lieve this, we ought to be always faithful to 'God,
and if we. do not believe; it, we ought not to com*
aumicate, to pray, to weep, to promise. WJiat
is supposed by all the appearanoe of devotion we
have in sickness ? That the soul i$; immortal, ^ that
there is a future state,: that an eteraity of happiness
or misery awaits us. If we believe this, we .ought
to regulate our action^ by Xhe&e truths, and if we
do not believe it, if jthfe soul be* not immortal, if

VOL'. V. 2 H

1

242 TRANSIENT P£VOT10KS.

heaven and hell he phantoms, we ought not to put
on an appearance of religion in prospect of death*
But such is our littleness, when we lose sight of a
thing, we think it ceases to be. When we find the
art of forgetting truth, it should seem truth is no
more. When we cease thinking of our judge, it
seems to us there is no judge. We resemble chil-
dren, who shut their eyes to hide themselves from
the sight of their nurses.

4. Every part of devotion supposes some action
of life, so that if there be no such action the whole
valueof devotion ceases. We hear, a sermon, in
this sermon we are taught some truth of religion,
which halh a close and inseparable connection with
our moral conduct. We are told that a judge must
be upright, a friend disinterested, a depositary
faithful. We do well to be attentive to this ser-
mon : but after we have heard it, we violate all the
rules, if we be corrupt juiiges, ungrateful friends^
faithless depositaries, and if because we have heard
our duty we think ourselves discharged from , the
necessity of doing it, do w6 not prevent the order
and destination of this discourse .? We receive the
Lord's supper, there we go to confirm our faith, to
detach ourselves from the world, to prepare our-
selves for a future state. We do well to receive the
Lord's supper : but if after we have received it we
become lax in believing, fastened to the world,
and without thought of a future state, and if we
neglect these duties under pretence that we took
steps relative to these duties, do we not pervert the
Lord's supper ? This reasoning is so clear, that it^
see:ms needless to pretend to illucidate it. Yet
many people, reason in this manner, I have been
to a place of worship, I have heard a sermon, I
have received the communion, and now I may give
a loose to my passions : but it is because you have

\

\

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS, ^43

been to a place of worship, it is because you have
heard a sermon and receive the communion, it is
on account of this, that you ought wholly to em-
ploy yourself about that work, to promote which
all these devotions were appointed.

5. Transient devotions are inconsistent with the
general design of religion. This design is to re*
form man, to renew him, to transform him into
the likeness of glorified saints, to render hina like
God. But ' how - does a rapid torrent of devotion
attended with no moral rectitude contribute to this
end ? If while I fast I eradicate the world from my
heart, if while I acknowledge the enormity of my
past life I endeavor to reform it, if while I give
mortal blows to the old man I form the new man in
my heart, and if I thus build the edifice of grace,
where once the temple of depravity stood, then 1
erect a fast day toward the great end of religion.
Bat what saith God of another kind of fastmg ? Is
it such a fast that I have chosen, that a man
should afflict his soul for a day? Is it to bow dozen
the headas a bulrush, and to spread sackcloth and
ashes under him ?- Wilt thou call this a fast, and
an acceptable day to the Lord ? Isa. Iviii. 5. And'
what saith God of exterior devotions in general?
To tvhat purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices
unto me ? saith the Lord. , / am full of burnt-
offerings and incense. Your nezv moons I cannot
azvay zvith. Who hath required this at your hand?
chap. i. 11. The answer seems ready. Didst not
thou. Lord, establish this worship, order an ele-
gant temple to be built, and command the Jews
to go up to Jerusalem ? Sabbaths, solemn assem-
blies, new moons, do they not owe their origin to
thcQ ? No ; when they are destitute of love and
obedience / hate new moons and sabbaths, and so*
lemn assemblies I cannot away with. In like man-

344 TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

ner, of all devotions of every kind, whien they Ibre
not attended with uniform moral obedience, we
say, and in particular of the Lord's supper we say,
/ am weary of your preparations, / hate your sighs,-
your tears are sn abomination to me, / amfidl of
momentary devotions, and your pretended holy
resolutions / cannot atoay with. O Ephraim^ what
shall I do unto thee ? O Judahy what shall I do
unto thee f for your goodness is as a morning
cloudy and as the tarly dezv it goeth away.

6, Transient devotions must render promises oj
grace to yovi doubtfuly even suppose you should
ever, after a thousand revolutions of transient piety,
be in possession of true and real religion. What
tbink you of this question ^ A man, who hath spent
his life in sin, is taken eiftremely ill. His illness, a
review of his life, and a fear of death* rouse his con-
science. He sends for a minister, he opens to him
ail his heart, he confesses his sins^ he weeps, he
groans, he protests ten thousand times that he
hates his past life, and that he is determined to re-
form. . He persuades himself, and all about him,
that he is really converted. The minister promises
him peace, and displays before him all the comfort-
able declarations, which it hath pleased God to be-
stow in the gospel. The sick man recovers his
health, returns to the world, forgets all hrs designs
of conversion and repentance, and pursues his for-
mer course of intrigue, and passion^ and arro-
gance. He falls sick a second time, sends a se-
cond time for his minister, and again he opens his
heart, accuses himself, sheds floods of tears, and
once more vows amendment and conversion. The
minister on the same principle as before encourages
him to hope again. He recovers again, and per-
jures himself again, as he did the first time. A
third time his illnesrs returns, and he takes the sJittie

steps, atid #ouM^ embrace the same promises^, if
they could be address6di to him. Now we asfc,
how a minurter ought to conduct himself to such
a man ? Wtoit think you^ of this question^? You^
know our commission, is to pi«each peace to such-
as return to God wilhi sincerity and good< faitfr.
The mark<s of sincerity smd' good £&ith are good
woi^s, and where circumstances render good work^
impossTibley protestations' and promises' are to be
admitted as evidlenici^ oF sincerity and gx>od feitb.
These evidences have been deceitfiri in the man we
speak of. His transition from promising to violat-
ing was as quick as that from viofating to promis-
ing. Have we any right to suppose the penitent
knows his heart better this third' time than he did
tbe first and second ? How should we be able to de-
term ine his sta<^, how can we address to bim any
other than doubtful promises, since God, in seme
sort, adopts such sentiments in the text? O
Epkrainij what shall I do untt> thee ? O Judak,
what shall I do unto thee ? for your goodness is as
a morning cloud that goeth away.

7- Consider finatly the imprudence of a man,
who divides his life in this manner into periods of
devotion and periods of sih. It seems at first to
be the height of wisdom to find the unheard of
art of uniting the reward of virtue with the plea-
sure of vice. On the one side, by devoting only a
few moments to religion he spares himself the
pains, which they experience who make conscience
of giving themselves intirely up to it ; and by sus-
pending oiily for a little while the exercise of his
passions, he enjoys the pleasure of hoping fully to
gratify them. On the other side, he quiets the
storms of divine justice that threaten his rebel-
lion, and thus obtains by devotions of a moment a
protection, which others devote a ^hde life to ac*

1^46 TllAK8I£Kr DEVOTIONS.

(fa\re. Let us undeceive ourselves. • A heart di-
vided in this manner cannot be happy. The chief
cause of the difficulties we meet with in the way of
salvittion is owing to our partial walkings and to
the fluctuation of the soul between religion and
the world. The world combats religion, religion
combats the world. . The divided heart is the field
of battle where this violent combat is fought. To
desire to enjoy the pleasures of both virtue and sin
is to ertjoy neither, and to partake of the inconve-
niences, of both. To be at a point, to take a *
part, and to take the wise part, is the source of
true peace and solid felicity.

Beside, this state of suspension, which God as-
sumes in the text is violent, and cannot last long.'
Like motives of patiei\ce do not occur at all times ;
witness .the kingdom of Judah^ mentioned in the
text, which was at length given up to the fury of
the ChaldeHns ; witness this Ephraim, I mean the
kingdom of the ten tribes, concerning whose des-
tiny the prophet seems in the text to waver ; how-
ever, at length God determined their dispersion,
and the tribes were confounded with those idola-
trous and wicked people, whose immorality and
idolatry they had too exactly copied. All the help
of history, and all the penetration of historians are
necessary now to discover any trace of these peo-
ple ; if indeed the penetration of historians and
travellers have discovered any thing about them.

But why go back to remote periods of the world
to prove a truth, which our own eyes now behold
in abundance of bloody demonstrations ? If there
ever were a ]rear from the foundation of the world,
if there have ever been a year proper to prove these
terrible truths, it is that which lately came to an
end. The dreadful events that distinguished it,
and of which we were, if not the victims, at least

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. 247

the witnesses, arc too recent and too well .known
to need description. This year! will be .proposed
to the most distant posterity- as lone of the .most
alarming periods of divine Venjgeanca . Future
preachers will quote it as St. Jude formerly did the
subversion of Sodom, and the universal dehige.
They will iell your posterity, that in the year ione
thousand seven hundred and nine the patience of
God weary with Europe enveloped in one genersd
sentence friend and foe, almost the whole, of. that
beautiful part of the world. : They will say,;: ihat
all the scourges of heaven in concert were let loose
to destroy guilty nations. They will. lead. tfaetr
auditors over the vast kingdoms of the norths and
shew them the Borysthenes stained with blood,
contagion flying rapidly, as on the wings of the
winds, from city to city, from province to pro-
vince, from kingdom to kingdom, ravaging in:one
week so many thousand persons, in the next so
many thousand niore. They will tell them of die
kingdoms, which were claimed by two princes, and
by lively images of the cruel barbarities practised
there, they will render it doubtful whether it were
a desire of conquering or depopulating these king-
doms, that directed the arms of these rivals. They
will represent that theatre of blood in Flanders,*
and describe in glowing colors troops on both sides
animated with equal fury, some to defend posts,
which seemed to need no defence but themselves,
others to force intrenchmehts, which nature and

* ■

* Our author refers to the battle of Malplacquet fought
September the 11th, 1709, between the French army con-
sisting of one hundred and t;wenty thousand men .commanded
by Marshal Villars, and the confederate army consisting of
nearly an equal number under the command of the J)uke of
Marlborough. The confederate army obtained the victory at;
the pripe of twenty thousand of their best troops.

84B TIIANSIE27T HEVOTIQKS.

art seemed to have .rendered impregnable. Tbey
iWill desqrtbe both .acoiies animated with a fury un-
knovm before, disputing in carnage and blood with
effi>rts unparallelled both for . the graatness of the
slaughter, and the ^oiy of the victocy . They will
jnopresent the most fruitful Jsingdom of Europe
imderall the i misery of 8carcil;y, in this more cruel
itfaan&miqe, it inflicts a more slow and lingering
death. They iwill speak of the laborers howling
for bread in the public roads ; and will tell of *^ a
sudden ferocity next to madness possessing multi-
tudes, .men seizing public convoys, snatching the
bread from one anothers hands, decency, fidelity
and religion being dead.''

:So many victims sacrificed to divine vengeance^
my brethren, so ^many plagues wasting Europe^
soiimanyshoeks of the earth, above all, as great a
share as our crimes had in > kindling the anger <tf
God, should seem to shake the foundations of this
state, and to convulse and kill the greatest part of
this auditory. Yet this state still subsists, tlxanks
to thine infinite mercy my Grod, the state yet sub-
sists, and, though afflicted, distressed, and weary
with a long and cruel war, it subsists as rich and
as splendid as any country in the world. These
hearers, too, yet subsist, thanks to thy mercy my
God, our eyes behold them, and by a kind of mi-
racle they have been preserved to the beginning of
another year. Preserved, did I say ? They have
been crowned. And how doth this year begin,
this year which we never expected to see, after a
year distinguished by the three great evils, pesti-
lence, famine, and war, how doth it begin with
us ? It begins with tlie smiles of heaven, with a
participation of whs^t is most, august in religion^
with the descent of the Holy Spirit into our hearts,
with the renewing of our covenant with God, and.

TRANSIBNT DEVOT16U9* 949

if I may be alkrwed to sdy soy it begins ^rth dtt
ackntewltedgmeiA on Gbd's part^ tftttt hfe love-wiH
not alto^ 6f otiV destracti6n, hi6rw mtK)h soever w^
deserve to be destroyed. O Epkraim^ hotv sfmll
I give thee up ? O Israel, hotv shall 1 delivtt th^6
up? How shall I inahe thee as Adrfmh? tfow
shall I set thee as Zebmm ? Mine heart is turned
xmthin me, iny repentirigs dre kindled tagethtr'i
Ah ! Why must d joy so pare be mixed with ^
jtisfc feary that yort wttt abuse his goodness ? Why,
across sack amaititirde of benefits-, must tve be con*
stf^ifted toibok at vengeance bebhfKl? O'republio*
nourished by hcfeivtff, npdn which the tye$ of the
Lord thy God are always fixed froTft the bfegif^
fiing Gif the year even mita the end of t^Ae yeaf^',
Deut. xi. 12. why nrtist W6f be drrvew to^ds^ td
utt^t^ rnipteasant omens akyilg with tfte most aifety
tfdndte beuediibtibiis ? Awd yoti belieVers, wbd
bear M^^ ^hy> rio\!v that ^e wish y(m» * happy riewt
year,; must we be obfilged to^ft^iretel an.; mihappy^
Otoe? ' t

For wha* security have we/ that this year Witt
be moref holy than the last ? Have we' any ceflarnt.
ty that this comnmnion witi be^ more eflS^tulal ttesnl
<rthers ? What security ha^e* wej that iJbe i^esohl*^
tiom^ of this^ay will have more rnftuenee over butf
lives thttn^ all brfbre ? Gan< we be sare,> that the d»f
voOton of this day wilt not be as a nMrning eloud^
a^d d9 the early dew that goeth atemyf ? And co^^
9eqpent%^, what security have we, tfhafc this m\t
not be the last year of this republicv the last/ eoiiiLi
munionv the last invitGlti6!h> of mercy^ ti^t vWH>dver
be given- to a*t this afesembly ? #

Ah, my brethren, my dean) bfet*iren, behold the
Gody who hetveth us byhispropMs, behold^ bimj
who hath slain men 6^ the words of hrs mouth, he^
hold him, who in the presence of his ai^els wait*

VOL. V. 2 I

\

250 TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

ing in this iassembly^ behold him once more saying
to you, O Ephraim, what ^hall I do unto thee ?
O Judahy wkat^ shall I do unto thee? for your
goodness is as the morning cloudy that goeth
away !

There are two great motives, among many
others, which chiefly urge your conversion to-day :
your receiving the Lord's supper this morning,
and the uncertainty of living all this year.

This morning you received the Lord's supper,
and with it peace of conscience, inward consola-
tion, ineffable pleasure, joy unspeakable and full
of glory^ if indeed you did feel this, and if these
are not in regard to you sounds without meaning.
What ! Shall four days, shall four days efface all
these impressions ? What ! Shall a worldly society,
will a sensual temptation, can a profane raillery
bring you to violate all your resolutions, and to be
guilty of perjury towards Gud ? Do not fall into
the puerility mentioned a little while ago, do not
think the great truths you have felt to-day will
CPase to be, because you cease to think of them.
Jesus died for you, Jesus gave himself for you,
Jesus demands your heart, Jesus promises you an
eternity of happiness; this is true to-day, this will
be true to-morrow, and all next week, dur-ing all
your temptations and pleasures : and what, pray,
can the world offer you in lieu of the heaven that
came into your conscience, what to supply the
place of that Redeemer, who this morning gave
himself to you in a manner so affectionate ?

To this first motive add the other, the vanity of
life, a vanity described by the renewing of the
year. I am aware, how feeble this motive is to
many of us. The past insures us for the future,
and because we have never died, it seems to us as
if we never should die.

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. 2151

My brethren, you compel us to-day to set be-
fore you the most mournful images, which can pos-
sibly strike your eyes. You oblige us to open
wounds beginning to heal, and to anticipate the
sorrows of the present year ; but what can be
done ? If we cannot detach men from the world,
we must tear them away by forpe.

Did. we deceive you last year, when we told you,
that many, who were present in this place on new
year's day, would not live through the year? Hath
not the event fully verified the sad prediction ? An-
swer me, ye disconsolate widows, who saw your
husbands, objects of the purest and tenderest love,
expire in your arms. Answer me, ye children in
mourning, who followed your parents to the grave.
How many afflicted Jacobs are weeping for the
loss of a mother ? How many Davids are saying
in the bitterness of their heart, O my son Absalom,
O Absolomy mi) soUy my som Would God I had died
for thee! How many Benonis, sons ofsorroiVy born
at the departing of the soul of their parents ?
How many Marthas and Marys, bedewing the
grave of a brother with their tears, a brother
dead four days, and by this time infectious ? How
many plaintive voices are heard in Rama ? How
many Rachels weeping, and refusing to be com-
forted, because their children are not ?

Having considered the last year, turn your at-
tention to this, which we are now beginning. If,
instead of such vague discourses as we address to
you, God should this moment give us light into
futurity, a sight of his book of decrees, a fore-
knowledge of the destiny of all our hearers, and
impel us to inform each of you how thi$ new revo-
lution would interest you, what cri^s would be
heard in this auditory 1 There, you would see that
ii aughty man full blown with vanity confounded in

25i najL^siunr p^yptuons.

tbi6 saoie dust witli the meaite&t of mankind. Here,
you wpuid see this voluptuoue woinao, who r^iuses
nptbing tp her senses, lying on a s\pk bed, eKpir-
ing in ^gony between the pain of a mprtal malady,
apd the just fear of failing into tbie hands of an an-
gry God. Yonder, you would behold that officer,
now crowned with laurels, and about to reap a new
harvest of glory in the next campaign, covered
yirith tragical dust, welfering in his pwn blood,
apd finding a grave where his imagination appoint^
^4 victory to n^eet him. In all parts of this audi-
{(Jitpry, pn the right hand, on the left, |[)efore, be-
hind> by your side, in your own pew, I should
sheiy ypu carcs^ses, and probably he, who heai^f us
il^ith the most indi^enence, and who secretly de&-
pi^es si}ph as tremble at pur preaching, would
|iim^f serve to prove the truth we are ddivering,
lipid Qpcupy the fk^st place in this fatal list.

My brethren. Providence h^th not tionored us
^ith wy new revelations, we have not a spirit of
prophecy : but you have eyes, you haye a memo-
^y^ you have reason, and you are certain death
^\\l sacrifice many of you in the course of this
ye^r. Qn whom will the tempest fs^U ? Who will
^rst verify our prediction ? You cannot tell : and
pn this ground you brave dl^ath ; on this you build
castles of vanity which attach you to the wor^.

My brethren, establish your tranquillity and
hP^ppines on foundations more firm and solid. If
you be affected with the motives set before you
this day^ and now resolve to labor in the work of
ypur salvation, only you fear the weaknesi^ of your
resolutions, w^ will give you one more le^on, easy
and practicable, that is, that every day of this year
you retire one qu^ter of an hour, and think of
death. There put on, in thought, your shroud»,
Itie down in youi> coffin, light your funeral tapers.

TRAM8IEKT BSVOnOMS. 26S

There, observe your . family weeping, your physi-
cian aghast, your long and melancholy train.
There dohsider your friends, your children, your
title€;, your treasures removed for ever. There,
strike yoiir imagination with the salutary ideas of
books opened, thrones prepared, actions weighed
in just b£)^l^nces. There, lose yourself m the dark
economy of a future state.

Having heard our exhortations, receive our be-
nedictions. First I turn myself toward the walls of
that palace, where laws of equity, the glory and
fi^licity of these provinces, are made ; where the
important questions which influence religion and
the state, and shake all Europe, are agitated. Ye
protectors of the cliurch, our masters and sove-
reigns, may God confirm the power, that you po;?-
sess with so mifch glory ! May God continue in
your hands the reins of this republic, which yon
hold with soH^ucii moderation and wisdom ! Ood
grant, you may ftrst share the prosperity and glo-
ry, which you dif!use among all this people ! Un-
der your administration God grant religion may
fk>urish> justice and peace flow over the whole
world, the Bdgic name be respected and the na-
tion victorious, and after you have been elevated to
the pinnacle of terrestrial grandeur, may God ele-
vate you to everlasting glory I

I turn myself also to you illustrious personages,
who represent in these provinces the chief heads ei
the christian world, and who in a mannei* exhibit
in this assembly princes, electors, republios, and
n^pnarchs, may God open his richest treasures in
favor of those sacred persons, who are gods upon
earth, and whose august characters you bear, to
enable them to support sovereign power with' dig-
nity } God grant, they may always have such mj-
nisters as you^ who understand how to «apitoi%'

254 TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS.

preme authority both respected and feared ! God
grant, a confederacy formed for the security of all
nations and people may be continued !. And, that
my wishes may be more worthy of the majesty of
this place, and the hohness of my ministry, I pray
God to unite you not only by the same temporal
interest, but by the same religion ; may you have
the same God for your Father, the same Jesus for
your Redeemer, the same Spirit for your guide,
the same glory for your hope ! I own, at the sight
of these lords of the universe, to whom I have the
honor to address myself, I feel my insignificance,
and I had suppressed all these wishes in my heart,
had I not known that I speak the sense ot* all this
assembly, the benedictions of all the church, and
the congratulations of the state.

You also we bless, Levites holy to the Lord,
ambassadors of the King of kings, ministers of the
new covenant, who have written on your foreheads
holiness to the Lordy and on your breasts the
names of the children of Israel : and you, elders
and deacons of this church, who are as it were asso-
ciated with us in the work of the ministry, may Gt)d
animate you with the zeal of his house 1 God grant,
you may always take for your model the chief Shep-
herd and Bishop of our souls ! God grant, after
you have preached to other s^ you may not be cast
away ! May you turn many to righteousnesjs, and
afterward shine as the stars for ever and ever !

Receive our benediction, fathers and mothers of
families, happy to see yourselves born again in the
persons of your children, happier still to bring
those into the assembly of the, first boj^n^ whom
you have brought into this valley of trouble ! God
grant, your houses may be sanctuaries, and your
children offerings to the Father of spirits, the God
of the spirits of all flesh !

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. S55

' Accept our good wishes, offieersy and soldiers,
you who after so many battles are going to war
again, you who after escaping so many dangers
are entering upon a new march of perils : May
the God of battle fight incessantly for you 1 May
victory constantly follow your steps ! While you
subdue your enemies, may you experience this
maxim of the wise man, he that ruleth his spirit is
better than he that taketh a city.

Young, people receive our blessing: may yoa
ever be preserved from the contagion of the world
you are entering ! May you devote the inestima*
ble days you enjoy to your salvation ! Now may
you remember your Creator in the days of your
youth !

Receive our good wishes, old people, who have
already one foot in the grave, let us rather say,
who have already your heart m heaven where your
treasure is : May you find your inward man re-
nezved day by day^ as your outward man perish--
eth ! May you feel your souls strengthened as your
bodies decay, and when your house of clay falls,
mav the ^ates of heaven open to you !

Desolate countries, to you also we extend our
good wishes and prayers. You have been many
years the unhappy theatre of the most bloody war
that ever was. May the sivord of the Lord^ drunk
tvith bloody retire into its scabbardy rest and be
still ! May the destroy ing angel, who ravages your
fields, cease to execute his commission ! May your
swords be beaten into plough shares^ and your
spears into pruning hooks, and may the dew of
heaven succeed the shower of blood that for so
many years has been falling upon you.

Are our benedictions exhausted ? Alas ! on this
joyful day can we forget our griefs ? Ye happy in-
habitants of these provinces, so often troubled with

i56 TftAHSlBFT DBVaTipifS.

a re<!itid erf* our afflict ioniv we rejoice in jrour fh*6s-
peritjr^ will yon refsse to compaosioDSte ^ dar miff-
fortunes ? And you, ^re brands plucked aiit of the
burnings 9Bd and reneraUe ruins of our unbaj^py
chuf^hes^ my dedr brethren^ wbootrtbd tnidforitufies
of tbc! tiiile^ have cast on Ibis sbc^e^ oair we forget
the miserable remnants of ourselVes ? O ye g#o«ii^
liig captives, ye weepn^ priests, ye sighing vir-
gins, ye festivals profaned, y^ ways^ of Zton^ motfrnf-
i^9» 7^ ttntroddeii paths, ye sad coisip4aints, move^
O move all this assctoUy^ O Jefusalem, if I for*
get tkee, let my right hand fdrget her cunning.
Not remerriber thee f Let my tongue cleave t0 the
^oof ofmyinouth if J prefer not Jerusalem abt^te
my chief joy ! O Jerusaleniy peace be wiihiit th^
walls f and prosperity xmthin thy palaces, Fot my
brethren and companions Sak€y J ioiU naif' sdy
peace be within thee t Mal^ God be moved> if ndt
with the drdor of a»r pray^rs^ yei with the eiceesis
of otNT afflictions^ if not with our misfertati^,^ yet
with the desoiatioTl of brs sanctliariesy if mot with
th^ bodies we carry all about the worldy yet with
the souls that are torn from ws }

And thou, dreadful prynce^ whomf I once honor-
ed as my king, and whom I yet respect as a
scourge im the hamld of Almighty God, thbu" also
shah hare a part in my good wishes. These prO*^
viticesy which thou threatencst, but which the arm
of the Lord protects; this country, which trhoa
fittest wich rcfogees, but fugitives amimated Witft
love ; these walls, which contain at thousand mar-
tyrs of thy making, but whom religion rendere vici-
toriooB, aB these yet resound beiitedictions' in thy
favor. God grant, the fatat bandage that bide«
the truth from thine eyes m«y fell' off! May God
forget the rivers of blood, witfc which thou bast de-
luged the earth, tod which; thy reign halb caused

TRANSIENT DEVOTIONS. S5^

»

to be shed ! May God blot out of his book the in-
juries, which thou hast done us, and, while he re-
wards the sufferers, tnay he pardon those who ex-
posed us to suffer ! O may God, who hath made
thee to us, and to the whole church, a minister of
his judgments, make thee a dispenser of his favors,
an administj^ator of his mercy !

I return to you, my brethren, I include you all
in my benedictions. May God pour out his Holy
Spirit upon all this assembly ! God grant, this year
may be to us all an acceptable year, a preparation
for eternity ! Drop doivriy ye heavens, from above,
let the skies pour dozen righteousjies, let the earth
open, and let them bring forth salvation !

It is not enough to wish for these blessings, they
must be procured, and we must derive them from
the source. It is not sufficient that a frail man ut-
ters benedictions in your favor, we must pray for
a ratification of them by the happy God. We
must go to the throne of God himself, wrestle with
him, earnestly beseech him with prayers and tears,
and not let him go, except he bless us. Magistrates,
people, soldiers, citizens, pastors, flock, come let
us bow our knees before the Monarch of the world :
and you birds of prey, devouring cares, worldly
anxieties, be gone, and interrupt not our sacri
fice.

VOL, V. 3 R

SERMON X-

THE DIFFERENT METHODS OF PREACHERS.

1 Corinthians iii. 11, 12, 13, 14, 15;'

father foundation can no man lay than ihatf whlib is hudy nuhich is
Jesus Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation^ goldy
silvstf precious stones^ wood, hay^ stubble ; every, matins- wort
shall be made mamfest ; for the day shall declare it^ because it
shettt be revealed byjire ; and tbeRre shall try every matCs worif
of what sort it is. If any masts wort abide^ which he hath
built thereupon^ he sbqll receive a ' reward. If any man^s wort

' shall be bumtf he shall staffer loss c but he himself shall be soved^
yet sOf as by Jlrcm

HAD rules of preaching sermons no connection
with those of hearing them, we^wonld not
have treated of this text in this place. ;Siatisiied
with meditating on it in the study, we would have
chosen a subject, in which you would have been
more directly interested. But what doctrine can
we preach to you, which doth not engage you to
some dispositions, that cannot be neglected with-
out hazarding the great salvation, for the sake of
which you assemble in this holy place ? Are we
such enemies to truth, or do we so ill understand
.it, as to teach you a doctrine contrary to th^ty
which the Holy Spirit bath, laid down in scripture?
If so, you should remember the saying of an sposr
tie, and, animated with a holy indignation, should

260 THE DIFFERENT METHODS *

preach any other gospel unto us than that, which
we have receivedj let him be accursed f Gal. i.
8, 9. Do we always keep Jtt srght, while we are
working in the building of the church, the pattern
shewed to us in the mount j Heb. viii. 5. you ought
to be attentive, diligent and teachable. Do we
make an odious mixture of truth and error, Christ
and Beliuly tight and darkness : cyca cnrgbt, to
exercise t/our senses to discern good from evil. It
is this inseparable connection of your duty with
ouxs, wBichyetehiflned4ne to 'ex'ptiifA tile text. It
directly regards the various methods of the preach-
ers of the gospel :' but as the terms are metaphor-
ical add , obscure, it will he necessary to lifevelop
the meaiiing of the apostle in the fdlowing ifian-
iier.

FitSt ^emn'e^iti^ v^m ^A^'6ms\bh fdrthe
Nprord'6----^n&<~^we/.w(n oTbse desfgn of the

apostle in writiDgtbem — in the third place we will
explain the several figures made use ttf-^— and lastly
we will apply the subject to practice.

I. The dccasibn of the text will appear -by a4it4le
attention to'tfe 66nhedtion ih which it staiwls.
St. Patilhad be^h^hdea:vbring to piit an ^ilA to
the divfeidns'of the church sit Cortlitih^ ^lid'tb dfe-
stroy the p^rty Spirit of the Coriifrthiaiils. Ought
tve to be astdtifshed, tli^t churches are *so I ittTe una-
nimbus ho%. When We s6e the ^fvtfefsity oft^h
among Spbstles dhd'J)r*lthifive'chf iistiahis ? If peace,
left by Je^us Christ as rih inhferitfeiitt5e to his apos-
■ties, (iould hot be ttiaihfaineci ih'chhrchi^s gathefed
hy these bJessed men, ivhfere itttSt^we look fbr it ?
i^erhaps, diviSibh ^vas pbrtly dWihg^o the ittiprti-
dehce of %6ttfe pfejichers ih'theirprittidtive churches :
But certaiiiJy their h^Slre^s had a chief hand in to-

ef PREACHERS. S6l

menting thefm. The teachers had different gifts,
and their bearers divided into parties under their
ministry. It is always atlowabte to distinguish,
men, who have received grea^ talents from God,
from such as have received abilities mot so great ;
but thede 'Corrnthian christians afifected to exalt
iktose of theifr ministers, who, they thought, were
me<n of the most eminent abilities, to the depres-
sion and discouragement of the rest, and under
pretence 'of paying homage to God the giver of
these talents, they very indiscreetly idolized the
rtien who had received thefn. Moreover, they mad^
as many different religions, as God had given dif-
ferent tK)mmisi$idns, and different abilities to mi-
nisters to execute them. Each party at Corinth
chose oat of ^these pretended religions that, which
appeared most conformable to its prejudices. The
converted pfegans were for St. Paul, to whom the
conversion of the gentiles had been committed,
andivho1)rought*them to the -knowledge of Jesus
Christ, and they said, for our parts, zve are of
Paul. Such as had a taste for eloquence were for
Apollos, ivho Was an eloquent ^an, and mighty
in the scriptures y and they said, weareofApollos.
The converted Jews were for Peter, who disco-
vered a f great deal ^ofitioderation toward their ce-
retnonies, and who had even ci^^wp^/Zerf the Gentiles
to live ns the J^s did, that is to mix the simple
worship of the new testament with the ceremonial
observalicfes of -the^faw, and they said, as for us,
we w*e df Cephas. And those Jews, who obsti-
nately ^continued the ceremony of circumcision,
pretended tWat ttey had no need of the authority
either of Taul,^r bf Apollos, or of Cephas, for
the 55x»ihpte'^^ of Jesus Christ, who had himself
been eircumcisfed, was sufficient for them, and for
their parts, they were (j/* CAm^

262 THE DIPF£R£KT MBTHOPS

St. Paul tells these Corinthians, that, as long as
they should continue in this disposition, be should
consider them as novices in the christian religion^
able at most only to understand the first principles;
not to comprehend the whole design. He tells
them, that there were in this religion treasures of
wisdom and knowledge, but into which men could
never enter, who mixed their passions with truths
intended to mortify them ; and that this defect in
them prevented bim from attempting to lay before
them these riches. /, brethren, could not speak
unto you as unto spiritualy but as unto carnal^
even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with
milk, and not with meat : Jor hitherto ye were not
able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able. For
ye are yet cornal, for zvhereas there is among you
envying and strife, and divisions, are ye not car-^
nal, and walk as men, 1 Cor. iii. 1 — 3. that is„as
men of the world ?

Having reproved the folly, and repeated the de-
scriptive censure, he leads them to the true motive,
that should induce them to avoid it. Although, as
if he had said, the talents of your ministers are
not all equal, yet they all received them from the
same source, that is, from the grace of God ; and
how amply soever any of them may be endowed
with abilities, they can have no success, except the
same grace bestows it. Who then is Paul, and
who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed,
as the Lord gave to every man, ver. 5. that is, as
the blessing of God accompanied their ministry >
I have planted, Apollos watered : but God gave
the increase. So then neither is he that planteth
any thing, neither he thatzvatereth, but God that
giveth the increase, ver. 8. A great lesson for
those, to whom God hath given gifts to preach the
gospel ! A fine example of humility, which they

or PREACHEES. 26S

ought always to have before their eyes ! And what
were the gifts, with which God enriched the first
heralds of the gospel ? What is a little vivacity of
imagination, a littlegrace of elocution, a little read-
ing, a little justness of reasoning ? What are these
talents in comparison with the gifts of men, who
spoke several foreign languages, who understood
all mysteries, who altered the laws of nature, who
were dispensers of the divine power, who raised the
dead, who slew the wicked with the breath of their
lips, who struck dead at their feet Ananias and
Sapphira, and to say more still, who were imme-
diately conducted by the Spirit of God in their mi-
nistry ? Yet behold the man, who was first in thisr
class of extraordinary men, behold this chosen ves-
sel, behold the man, who could say, / was not a
whit behind the very chief est apostles, 2 Cor. xi. 5.
behold him, doing homage fur all his own talents,
and all those of his colleagues to that grace, from
which they came, and which blessed the adminis-
tration of them. Who, is Paul? Who is Jpol-
hs ? He that planteth is nothing, he that water-
€th is nothings but God that giveth the increase.

II. It was to be feared (we proceed to the de-
sign of the text) it was to be feared, that under
pretence that all the ministers of the gospel were
united in one point of equality ; under pretence
that none of them were any more than servants of
God, and canals by which he communicated him-
self to the church ; I say it was hazardous, and
much to be suspected, whether teachers them-'
selves would not abuse this equality by applying
what the apostle meant only of the abilities of
preachers to the very.doctrines themselves, whiqh
they taught.

If this were doubtful in regard to the preachers.

364 THE I>IFFfilt£NT METHODS

it was no less so in regard to the hearers. Feqple
have, I thinks a natural bias to superstition* They
easily shew that respect, which is due only to the
character of a minister of the living God, to all
that put it on, even to such as use ^t only for the
perverting of the gospel, yea to those who endea-
vor to subvert it entirely. Because we ought not
to hear the gospel in a spirit of chicanery and so-
phistry, it is supposed we ought to lay aside a spi-
rit of discernment. Hence this way of speaking,
so superstitious, and at the s^me time so common
among us, that is, that whatever difference there
may be in preachers, yet they all preach the word
of God. But is it not impossible, that from a text^
which is the word of God, explications may be
given, which are only the' word of man. Not im<^
possible, did I say, I believe it seldom, if ever hap-
pens, that two ministers treat of one subject with*
out at least one of them mixing with the word of
God some expressions which are only the word of
man. Why? Because the conformity of their
sentiments can never be so perfect, but they will
differ in some questions. Now, of two men, one
of whom takes the affirmative side of a question,
and the other the negative, one of them must of
necessity, in this respect, preach the word of God,
and the other the word of man. You should not,
therefore, pay a superstitious attention to our dis-
courses. You should not, under pretence that all
your ministers thus preach the word of God con-
found the word of God with the word of man.
Whatever patience you may be obliged to hav^
with our imperfections, you ought not equally to
esteem two discourses, the greatest p3,rt of one of
which you call, and have reason to call, the word
of God, and the greatest part of the other the
word of man.

OF PREACHERS- 265

The design of St. Paill in our text is to rectify
our judgment on this subject. For this purpose he
dirides preachers into three classes. The first are
such as preach the word of man, not only different
from the word of Qod, but directly in oppositidti
to it. The second preach the pure word of God
ii^ithout human mixtures. The thii'd do indeed
ni^ke the word of God the ground of their preach-
ing, "but mix with it the explications and traditions
of men. The apostle characterizes these three
kinds of preachers, informs us of their destination,
and what account God will require of their mi-
nistry.

1. Other foundation can no man lay than that
which is laid. This is directed against such mi-
nisters as preach the word of man in direct opposi-
tion to the word of God, -or the doctrine taught by
Jesus Christ. What will be the destination of such
ministers ? St. Paul tells us by affirming, no man
caji preach, no man can lay any other foundation
than that which is laid. No man can ! not that
this can never happen. Alas ! This hath too often
happened ; Witness many communities, which un-
der the christian name subvert aH the foundations
of the christian religion. But no man can do so
without rendering himself guilty of the greatest
crime and exposing himself to the greatest pu-
nishment.

2. If any than build upon this foundation^ gold',
silver, precious stones. These are ministers, who

• preach the pure word of God. They not only re-
tain all the fundamental points Of the christian re-
ligion, in opposition to the former who subvert
them : but they explain these truths so as to affirm
nothing inconsistent with them. All the inferences
they draw from these great principles naturally
VOL. V. • a L

266 THE DIFFERENT METHODS

proceed from them, and their whole doctrine is
agreeable to the foundation on which it is built.
On this account it is compared to goldy silvery and
precious stones. What shall be the destiny of
these ministers in the great day of judgment, when
their doctrine shall be examined? They shall re^
ceive a rexvard. They shall share the glorious
promises made to faithful ministers of religion, -

3. If any man build upon this foundation, wood,
ftayy stubble. These are ministers, who really make
the word of God the ground of their preaching :
but who mix the word of man with it, and disfigure
it with their fanciful sophistry. When the doctrine
of these ministers sbsdl be examined, in the great
day of judgment what shall their destiny be? They,
themselves shall be saved, because they have taught
nothing directly contrary to the essential truths of
Christianity : but they shall have no reward for ex-
ercising, a ministry, in which they rendered the
word of God of less effect by mixing with it the
traditions of men, and they shall be saved, yet so,
as by fire, that is with difficulty, because their
preaching occupied the time and attention of their
hearers in a manner unworthy of the disciples of
Jesus Christ.

This is, my brethren, a general view of the de-
sign of our text : but this is not sufficient to give
an exact knowledge of it. In a discourse intend-
ed to prevent, or to eradicate a certain kind of su-
perstition, nothing ought to be proposed that is
likely to cherish it. You should not be required to
believe any thing without the most full and con-
vincing evidence. Having therefore shewn you
the general design of the text, we will proceed to
our third article, and explain the several meta-
phors made use of in it.

OF PREACHERS. 267

III. Although all these ^figurative expressions
are selected witli caution, and very bold, yet they
are not all alike obscure to you. Which of you is
such a novice, I do not say only in the style of the
inspired authors, as not to know the idea affixed to
the term foundation ? In architecture they call
those massy stones laid in the earth, and on which
the whole building rests, foundations : and thus in
moral things, particularly in sciences, foundations
signify some propositions, without which all the
rest, that make the body, cannot subsist.

The foundation laid is Jesus Christ. These
terms are to be understood m this place, as in many
others, of the christian religion, which is called
Jesus Christ, not merely because Jesus Christ
taught it to the world, but because his history,
that is, his sufferings, his death, and his resurrec-
tion, is the principal subject. In this sense the
apostle says, he determined not to know any thijig
among the Corinthians save Jesus Christy and him
crucified^ that is, the christian religion, of which
the crucifixion of Christ is a principal article.

The other emblems, zvoodj hay, stubble y gold,
silvery precious stones seem evidently to convey the
ideas, which we just now affixed to them. As St.
Paul here represents the doctrine of preachers un-
der the similitude of an edifice, it is natural to sup-
pose, that woody hatfy and stubblCy especially when
they are opposed to goldy silver and precious
stonesy should mean doctrines less considerable,
either because they are uncertain, or unimportant.

For the same reason, goldy silvery precious stones
signify in the edifice of the church, or in the sys-
tem of preachers, such doctrines as are excellent,
sublime, demonstrable. In this sense the prophet
Isaiah, describing the glory of the church under the
government of the Messiah, says, , behold^ I will

* •■.-
■ .1 ,

268 TfiE DIFFERENT METHODS

lay Ihy stones with fair colors y and thy founda-
tions with sapphires. And I^witl make thy win-
dows of agates, and thy gates of carbuncles, and
all thy borders of pleasant stones, chap. liv. 11, 12.
and by way of explaining this n^etaphorical lan-
guage, he adds in the very next words, 4U If^i/
children shall be taught of the Lord, and great
shaU be the peace of thy children.

There is a little more difficulty, at least there
are many more opinions on the meaning of t^ese
words. E7)e?y man^s work shall be rnade manifest,
Jor the day shall declare it, because it shall be re-
vealed by fire, and the fire shall try every mqjCs
work of zvhat sort it is. Without detailing, ^nd
refut^ing erroneous opinions on th^se wonts, let it
suffice that we point out the true sense. By the
day we understand the final judgipeqt. This d^y
is called in many passages of scripture the day of
the Lord, the day, or that day by excellence.
Thus the apostle, Jesus Christ shall confirm you
unto the end, that ye may be blameless in the dqy
of our Lord, chap. i. 8. Thus also, speaking of
tlie temporal punishment of the incestuous person,
he says, deliver such an one unto Sat an for the de-
struction of thefksh, that the sipirit may be saved
in the day ofth^ Lord Jesus, chap. y. 5. So agam,
/ know whom I have belieiyed, and I am persuaded,
that he is able to keep that which I have committed
unto him against that day, 9 Tim. i. 12. In that
day every man^s work shall be revealed, or made
manifest by fire. It is not astonishing, that fire
should }^e joined here with the day of judgnient.
The scripture teacheth us in mof^ than ope place,
that the terribleday of judgment will verify in the
most dreadful of all senses this de^^laration, Qod
viaketh winds his angels, ^nd fiaming fire his mi-

OF PREAQilERS. 269

nisters.^ Hene© the psalmist says, the mighty
Godj, even the Lprd hath spoken^ and called the
earth from the rising of the sun unto the going
down thereof. 4 .fiTe shall devour before him,
Psal, 1. 1. Agreeably to whi^h our Apostle says,
(he Lord Jesus, zvhen he shall come to be gloria
fied in his saints, and to be admired in all them
that believcy shall be revealed from heaven infiam^
ing ^fire, iaking vengeance on them that know not
Gody 2Thess. vji. 10. 8. Though a,ll these passages
cast light on the text, yet strictly speaking, I think
the apostle presents the fire of the day of judgment
here under an idea somewhat different from that
given in all these passages. In these fire is repre-
sented as punishing only the wicked, the righteous
do not feel the action of it : but here in the text it
is described as alike kindled for the righteous and
the wicked : at least it is said that the works pf

* Psalm civ. 4. The English version is-^Wha maleth Us
angels spirits : his ministers a gaming fre, Mr. Saurin under-
stands the words, as above, expressive of the divine influence
over the power of nature, and reads, who maketh winds and
fresf literally, his imstrumentSf or figuratively, his messengers.
This is perfectly agreeable— first to the original terms— se-
condly to the contesst, who walketh upon die wings of the
ovxW.... who maketh clouds his chariot...,who sitteth on wa/^ri
«.. .whose canopy is the heavens,,.. whose clothing is Kght, This
iK^iole psalm, the most sublime of all essays on nature, makes
all parts of the universe particles of one body of majestic
size, and exact symmetry, of which the palmist's God, Ji^-
HOVAH, is the soul ; the earthy the deef, mountains f valleys f
beasts, fowls, grass, herbs, oil, wlne^ manf and al} his move-
ments, the silll that builds and sails a ship, and the sensations
th^t make leviathan play, all these, all the parts and powers of
nature s^re foraged, animated, and directed by God. — Thirdly
this fense is agreeable to other passages of scripture. — The
Lord rained jS-#. Gen. xix. 24. The Lord caused the sea
to go back by a strong east wind, Exod. xiv. 21. Fire and
hail, snow and Tapor^ st99wy wmds fulfilling his word^ Psalm
ciWii. 9.

270 TH£ DIFFERENT METHODS

both shall be revealed by, fire. Now we should be
obliged to have recourse to some subterfuge to
make sense of the text, if we understood the
apostle speaking of the fire of hell. How can the
works of the righteous and the wicked be equally
manifested by the fire of hell. !

I thinks a much more simple and natural expo-
sition may be given of the words of the text. The
chief design of a day of judgment is to examine
the actions of men, and to distinguish bad actions
from good, and good from better. This is an
idea contained in a thousand passages of scripture,
and it would be useless to prove it. N )w the apos-
tle, in order to make us understand that the evi-
dence shall be complete, represents it under the si-
militude of the most perfect and best known trials
among men, of which that of metals by fire cer-
tainly excels in its kind. Hence it is, that the sa-
cred writers have chosen this to explain the trials,
which God makes his children go through in this
world. I select only one passage out of a great
number. That the trial of your faith^ being much
more precious than of gold that perishethy though
it be tried with fire^ might be found unto praise
and honory and glory at the appearance of Jesus
Christy 1 Pet. i. 7. The trial of your faith is a
remarkable word in the original. Good Greek
authors use it for the trial of metals in the fire.
Isocrates uses the term exactly as St. Peter does,
zve try gold in the fire. \ return to the text,
which I left only for the sake of explaining it the
better. St. Paul here represents the day of judg*
ment as a time of the most exact and severe trial
of the actions of men, and particularly of the doc-
trines of ministers of the gospel. For this pur-
pose he compares the trial with that of metals by
fire. Saith he, the different doctrines of ministers

OF PREACHERS. 271

of the gospel shall then be put into a crucible that
they may be fully known, as by the same process
pure gold is separated and distinguished from fo-
reign matter mixed with it : Every man^s work
shall be made manifest^ for the day^ that is, the
/lay of judgment, shall declare it^ because it shall
be revealed by Jire^ that is, the day of judgment,
Iike./?re, applied to metals, shall try every man's
xvorky of what sort it is.

The apostle pursuing the same metaphor adds.
If any man's work abide^ zvhich he hath built there-
upon, he shall receive a reward, that is, if the
doctrine, which a minister of the gospel shall have
taught, and built on the Jcundation that is laid,
if this doctrine shall abide the trial of the day of
judgment, as gold abides that of fire, the preacher
shall receive a reward : but if his doctrine burns,
if it will not abide this trial, if it be like the fo-
reign matter mixed with gold, and which burns
when gold is tried with fire, then the preacher will
lose' the honor and pleasure of his work, he will
have no reward for his ministerial services : but as
to himself, perhaps he may be saved, however, he
will be saved with difficulty, he will be saved as by
Jire. Why may he be saved ? Because his doctrine
did npt go to the subversion of the principal truths
of the christian religion. Why will he be saved'
with difficulty ? Because his doctrine was incon-
sistent with the dignity of Christianity. Why is
the salvation of such a man uncertain ? Because it
is possible, that the motives which induced him to
preach such a doctrine, and to prefer it before what
St. Paul compares to gold 3,ud precious stones, may
have been so detestable as to deserve all the pu-
nishments denounced against such as shall have
subverted the foundations of the gospel. If you
doubt whether the sense we have given to this me-

i79i THE DIFFERENT METHODS

taphorical expression, saved as by fire^ be just, vat
beg leave to observe in three words that it is well
founded.

First, the same sense given is not fpfced, for no*
thing is more natural than to express a great dif-
ficulty by similitudes taken from difficult things,
thus we say a man escaped from shipwreck y to de-
scribe a man who hath escaped from any great dan*
ger: and the same idea is expressed with equal
aptness, when we say a man freed from some
great danger hath escaped the fire.

Secondly, the metaphor is not only just and
beautiful in itself, but it is common in, profane
writers. In this manner iEmilius Paulus, to shev^
'that he had hardly escaped the rage of the popu-
lace during his first consulship, says^ that he escap-
ed a popular conflagration^ in which he was hialf
burnt. In like manner Cicero, speaking of the mi-
series of life, says, that it would be better not to be
born, but that if we have the misfortune to be
born, the most advantageous thing is to die soon,
and to flee from the hands of fortune as from a con-
flagration.

Thirdly, the metaphor in tlie text is common in
other parts of scripture, as in Amos, / have over-
thrown some of you^ as God overthrew Sodom and
Gomorrah y and ye were as a firebrand plucked
out of the burningy chap. iv. 11. The apostle
Jude adopts the same figure, and says, save others
with fear pulling them, out of the fircy ver. 13.

By establishing the true s6nse of the text on so-
lid grounds, I think we have sufficiently refuted all
erroneous opinions concerning it, and yet there
are two, which for different reasons I cannot help
mentioning.

The first is the opinion of those, who think, the
apdstle meant by the fire in the text the destruc-

OF PREACHERS. 275

tion of Jerusalem. This opinion hath an stir of
probability, yet I do not think it certain. The
time of the destruction of Jerusalem is often called
in scripture, as well as the time of the final judg-
ment, that dayy the day of the Lord, and the ca-
lamities of the day are represented under the idea
of fire, and literally speaking, fire did make sad
ravages in Jerusalem and in the temple. How-
ever, there is a deal of perplexity in the paraphrase
given of the text, by such as are of this opinion.
This is it, exactly as we have transcribed it from a
celebrated scholar. " The fire of the destruction
oC Jerusalem will prove whether the doctrines of
your teachers be those of the gospel, or whether
they be foreign notions. He, whose doctrine will
abide this trial, shall receive a reward : but he,
whose doctrine will not abide it, will lose the fruit
of his ministerial labors.^'

We said this opinion was probable : but we can-
not say so with the least shadow of truth of the
opinion of some of the church of Rome, who pre-
tend that the apostle speaks here of the fire of
purgatory.

Because, suppose purgatory were taught lu othelf
passages of scripture, which we are very far from
granting, great violence must be done to this text
to fiud the doctrine hefe 5 for on supposition the
apostle speaks of purgatory, what do these ivords*
mean ? The fire of purgatory shall try the doc-
trines of the ministers of the gospel, so that; sub-
stantial doctrines, and vain doctrines shall be aliktf
tried by this fire !

Because St. Paul says here of this fire things di*
rectly opposite to the idea, which the church of
Rome forms of purgatory. They exempt saints of
the first order, and in this class St. Paul certainly
holds one of the most eminent places : but out*

voi^. V. 2 m

I

274 TU£ Dlf>^£R£Kt METHODS

apostle, far from thinking himself safe from such a,
trial by fire as he speaks of in tl|e text, expressly
says, every marCs work shall be tried, that is, the
work of ministers who shall have built on the foun-
dation goldy silvery precious stones, shall be tried,
as well as that of ether ministers, who shall have
built on the foundation wood and stubble.

But the chief reason for our rejecting the com-
ment of the church of Rome is the nature of the
doctrine itself, in proof of which they bring the
text. A heterodox doctrine, which enervates the
great sacrifice^ that Jesus Christ offered on the
cross for the sins of mankind 3 a doctrine dire<:t^
opposite to a great number of passages of scripture^
whichtell us that there is no condemnation to th^m
that are in Christ Jesus, that he that believeth is
passed from death unto life, that when the righ-
teous dieth, he is taken from the evil to come, and
shall enter into peace, RomvViii. I. John v. 24.
and Isa. Ivii. 1, 2. A doctrine founded on a thou-
sand visions and fabulous tales, more fit for times
of pagan darkness than days of evangelical light ;
a sordid doctrine that evidently owes its being to
that base interest, which it nourishes with profu-
sion, luxury and extravagance ; a barbarous doc-
trinC) which produces in a dying man a dreadful
expectation of passing from the agonies of dying ^
to whole ages of greater agony in flames of fire.

IV. Let us now proceed to examine with what
eye we ought to consider the three sorts of preach-
ers, of which the apostle speaks, and so apply the .
subject to practice. The first are such as lay under
another foundation beside that which is laid. The
second are those, who build on the foundation,
laid by the master builder, zvood, hay, and stubble.

OF PREACHERS. %^6

The third are such as build on the same foundation
galdj silvery and preciour stones.

Thanks be to God we have no otlier concern
with the first of these articles Except tiiat, Which
compassion obliges tts to take for the wickedness of
such teachers, and the blindness of their hearers !

What a strange condition is that of a man, who
employs his study, his reading, his meditatioin, hiis
labors, his public and private discourses to subvert
the foundations of that edifice, which J^sus Christ
came to erect among mankind, and which he hath
cemented with his blood ! What ^ doctrine is that
of a man, who presumes to call himself a guide of
conscience, a pastor of a flock, an interpreter of
scripture,' and who gives only false directions^ who
poisons the souls committed to his care, and dark-
ens and tortures the word of God ! Jesus Christ,
to confound the glosses of the false teachers of his
time, said, if€ have heard, that it was said by thefn
of old time so and so: but I say unto you btb^r-
w;ise. The teachers, of whom I speak, use ano-
ther language, and they say, you have heard^ that
it was said by Jesus Christ, so and so : but I say
to you otherwise. You have heard, that it was
said by Jesus Christy search the scriptures : but 1
say to you, that the scriptures are dangerous, and
that only one order of men ought to sete them.
You have heard, that it hath been said in the in-
spired writings^ prove all things : but I say unto
you, it is not for you to examine, but to submit.
You have heard that it hath been said by Jesus
Christ, that th^ rulers over the Gentiles exertise
lordship over them, but it shall not be so dmortg
you. But I say unto you, that the pontiff hath a
right to donlineer not only over the Geritiles, but
even over those who rule them- You hive heard,
that it hath beea said blessed are the dead whidi

276 TH£ I>1FF£R£NT M£THOQS

die in the Lordy that the soul of Lazarus was car-
ried by the angels into Abraham's bosom : but I^
I sayointo you, that the dead pass from the mise-
ries of this life only into incomparably greater mi-
series in the flames of purgatory.
* If this disposition be deplorable considered in
itself, it becomes much more so by attending to the
motives that produce it. Sometimes it is igno-
rance, which makes people sincerely crawl in the
thickest darkness amidst the finest opportunities of
obtaining light. Sometimes it is obstinacy, which
impels people to maintain, for ever to maintain,
what they have once afiirmed. Sometimes it is
pride, that will not acknowledge a mistake. Some-
times it is interest, which fixes them in a commu-
nion, that opens a path to riches and grandeurs,
benefices and mitres, an archiepiscppal throne and
a triple crown. Always, it is ifegligence of the
great salvation, which deserves all our pains, vigi-
lance the most exact, and sacrifices the most
difficult.

My brethren, let us acknowledge the favor con-
ferred on us by providence in delivering us from
these errors. Let us bless the happy days of the
reformation, in which our societies were built on
the foundation, laid by Jesus Christ and bis apos-
tles. Let us never dishonor it by an irregular life.
Let us never regret the sacrifices we have made to
it. Let us be always rfeady to make more. We
have already, many of us, given up our establish-
ments, our fortunes, and our country , let us give
up our passions, and if it be requisite our lives.
Jjet us endeavor to perpetuate and extend it, let us
defend it by our prayers, as well as by our labor
and vigilance. Let us pray to God for this poor
people, from whose eyes a fatal bandage hides the
light of truth. Let us pray for such of our brethren

OF PREACHER^. Sf77

as know it, but have not courage. to profess it. Let
us pray for those poor children, who deem as if they
must receive it with their first nourishment, because
their parents know it : but who do not yet know it,
and who perhaps, alas ! will never know it. If
our incessant prayers for them continue to be re-
jected ; if our future efforts to move in their favor
the compassion of a merciful God be without suc-
cess, as our former efforts have been ; if our fu-
ture tears, like our former sorrows be in vain, yet
we will exclaim, O Lordy how long ! O wall of
the daughter of Ziotiy let tears run down like a
river day and night j give thyself no rest, let not
the apple of thine eye cease ! O ye^ that make
mention of the Lord^ keep not silence^ and give
him no resty till he establish^ and till he make Je-
rusalem a praise in the earthy Rev. vi. 10. Lament,
ii. 18. and Isa. Ivii. 6, 7-

It is not the limit prescribed to this sermon, that
forbids my detailing the two remaining articles :
but a reason of another kind. I fear, should I cha-
racterize the two kinds of doctrines, which are both
built on the foundation, but which however are not
of equal value, I myself should lay another foun-
I dation. The religion of Jesus Christ is founded on

love. Jesus Christ is love. The virtue, which he
most of all recommended to his disciples, is love.
^ I appeal here to those, who have some idea of
remnants of divisions yet amongst us. How can
I, without rekindling a fire hid under embers, and
which we have done all in our power entirely to ex-
tinguish, shew the vanity of different classes of di-
vers doctrines of woodi hayy and stubble ?

In a first class it would be necessary to expose a
ministry spent in questions of mere curiosity, and
to contrast it with that which is employed only to
give that clear knowledge, s^nd full demonstration

'f78 TH£ J>IFF£R£Kr M£THODS

of the great troths of rdigion) of wbicfa they are
capaUe. %

In a seomid class, it woald be necessary to €<m-
trasrtdiacoiirses of simple flpeculation tending only
to exercise the mind with isodi practical discMirses,^
as tend to sanctify the heart, regulate the life, to
sender the child obedient to his parent^ and the pa-
rent kind and equitable to his cbUd, the subject sub-
' missive to the lavrs of his rulers, aud tbe ruler at-
tentive to the happiness of the subjects, ^he rich
charitable, and the poor humble and patient.

In athird cla^s, I should be obliged to consider
some productions of disordered minds, iancies at-
tributed to the Spirit of God, charging religion
with tbe tinsel of the marvellous, mote proper to
divert children than to satisfy inquisitive minds,
and to contrast these with the productions of men,
who never set a step without the light of the gospel
in their hands, and infallible truth for their guide.

In a fourth class, we ought to contrast those mi-^
scrable sophisms, which pretend to support truth
with the arms of error, and include without scruple
whatever favors, and whatever seems to favor the
cause to be maintained, with clear ideas, close rea«
sonings and natural conclusions, such as a preach^
brings, who knows how to weigh in a just balance
truth and falsehood, probability and proofj con-
jecture and demonstration.

In a fifth class, I should have to lay open the
superficial ideas, sometimes low and vulgar, of k
man without either elevation or penetration, and
to contrast them with the discourses of such happy
geniuses as soar up to God, even to the inacces-
sible God.

All these dissimilitudes it would be my duty to
shew : but I will not proceed, and I m&ke a ^^cri-
fice to charity of all the details, which the aulyect

OF PREACHfiRS. 27ft

vrould bear. I\wall nQt even describe the miseries>
which aret depounced against such as buildc/ioj/i audi
sUibbU on the foundation of the gospel, uor the
unbappinejss of those, who shall be found, at last to.

haK«: preferred 5uch doctrinea before the g^o/rf^-y/Zt'crV
and precious stones, of which the apostle speaks.
Let them weigh this expression of the holy macr>.
h^ shalibc saved, yet so, as by fire. Let the.f9*st
think of the. accpunt they mustgivet of their minis-
try, and the second of the use they have made of*
their time, and of their superstitious docility.

I would r^her offer you objectis more attracting,
and urg^. motives more tende^•. We told you at th^,
hegjnning of this discpurse that your.duties^^chris^.
tian pt@9pk» have a -close connection with ours, and^
we uKay add,, our <l^^ination is closely cponeetedt
with yoiurs.

Whj»t wiU be the destiny of such as shall have i
built on^ the foundations of Christianity, gold, silver, ,
and precious stones? What will be the destiny -of
those, wha shall have exercised such a ministry ?
What will be the destiny of such as liave incorpo-
rated themselves with it? Ah! my brethren, I
place my happiness, and glory in not being able
fully to answer this question. I congratulate myr
self for not bjeiog.able tp.find images lively enougfii
to represent the pomp, with which I hope, my
mosti^elo^ed auditors, ypu will one day be» adorn-
ed. Yet 1; love tojcontemplate that great day,, in
which' the t^HTA: of faithful ministers, and faithful
christiai9uS;WiU bj^ made manifest by J?r(?. I love to
fill my mind with the. day, in which God wWVcome
to be glorified in his saints, and admired in all
them that believe, 2 Thess. i. 10. when /i^ shall
calltojhe heavens from above, and to the earth,
that he may judge his people, Psal. 1; 4. saying.
Gather my saints together unto me, those that have

28& THE DIFFERENT MfiTHOPS

made a covenant with me by sacrificcy ver. 5. I
love to satiate my soul with ideas of the redeemed
of every kindred^ and tongue, and people, and na-
tion in company with ten thousand times ten thou--
sandy and thousands of thousands of angels. Rev.
V. 9> 1 1 ' At the head of this august body I see
three chiefs.

The first is Jesus Christy the author andfinisher
of our faith, Heb. xii. 2. I see this divine leader
presenting himself before his father with his wounds,
his cross and his blood, and saying. Father, I hdtve
Jinished the work which thou gavest me to do. And
now, O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self
with the glory which I had with thee before the
world was, John xvii. 4, 5. Having glorified the
head, glorify the members, save my people. Then
will the eternal Father crown such just and holy
petitions with success. Then will be accomplished
in regard to Jesus Christ this magnificent promise.
Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for
thine inheritance, and the uttermost part of the
earth for thy possession, Psal. ii. 8. Such as op*
pose thine empire govern with a rod of iron, and
dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel : but
enter thou into thy kingdom with thy subjects, thy
saints, thy well-beloved, and share with them thy
glorious inheritance.

The second leaders are prophets, evangelists^
and apostles, appearing before God with the con-
quests they made, the nations they converted, the
persecutions they endured for the love of God and
his gospel. Then w ill the promises made to these
holy men be accomplished, they that turn many
to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever
and ever. When the Son of man shall sit in the
throne of his glory,- ye also shall sit upon twelve

OF PREACHERS^ Sl8l

thrones^ judging the twelve tribes of Israel, Dan*
:i:ii. 4. Matt. xix. 28.

• The third will be such ministers as have been
followers of the apostles, even as they also were
of Chinst. I think I see these ministers, humbled
with their faults, convinced of their frailty, im-
ploring the divine mercy for the blemishes of their
ministry : but yet with that humble confidence
which the compassion of God allows, and saying,
behold us, the doctrine we have preached, the
minds we have informed, the wanderers we have
reclaimed, and" with the hearts which we have had
the honor of animating with thy love. What, in
that great day, what will be your destiny, chris-
tian people ? Will yours be the hearts, which we
shall have animated with divine love, or those froni
which we never could banish the love of the world?
Shall you be among the backsliders, whom we shall
have reclaimed^ or among such as shall have per-
sisted in sin ? Shall yours be the minds we have
enlightened, or among those, who shall have lain
in darkness and ignorance ?

Ah ! My brethren, the first of our wishes^ the
most affectionate of our prayers^ our secret medi-
tations, our public discourses, whatever we under-^
take^ whatever we are, we consecrate to prepare
you for that great day. What is our hope^ or joy,
or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in the pre-
sence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming ?
Ye are our glory and joy, 1 Thess. ii. 19, 20.
To God be honor and praise for ever and ever.
Amen.

v©L. V. a N

SERMON XL

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD.
Romans xi. 33.

the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of
God! How unsearchMe are bis judgments, and his ways past
finding oui I

ONE of the principal causes of the depravity of
mankind is, that they form mean ideas of
God. The idea of the God we adore, and the no-
tion of the morality we ought to practise are two
things closely connected together. If we consider
God as a being elevated, great and sublime, our
^morality will be great, sublime and elevated too.
If, on the contrary, we consider God as a being,
whose designs are narrow, whose power is limited,
and whose plans are partial, we shall practise a
morality adapted to such an imaginary God.

My brethren, there are two very different Ways
of forming this sublime idea, which bath such an
influence over religion, and morality. The mag-
nificence of God may be understood by what is
known of God^ by the things that are made, by the
brilliancy of the sun, by tlie extent of the frnna-
ment, and by all the various creatures which We
behold ; and judging W the workman by the work,
we shall exclaim in sight of so many wonderfii]

@84 THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

works, O Lordf how excellent is thy name in all
tTie earth ! Thou hast set thy glory above the hea^
vens. When I consider thy heavens, the work of
thy, fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast
ordained, what is man, that thou art mindful of
him ? And the son of man that thou visitest him ?
Rom. i. 19, 20. Psal. Iviii. X, &c.

But there is another way to know the magnifir .
cence of God, a way less accessible indeed, but
more noble, and even more plain to the man, the
eyes of whose understanding are enlightened,
Eph. i. 18. that is, to judge of God not by the
things that are seen, but by the things that are not
seen, not by what we know, but by what we de
not know. In this sublime way the soul loseth it-
self in a depth of divine magnificence, like the se-
raphims, covers its face before the majesty of God,
and exclaims with the prophet, verily thou art a
God that hidest thyself, Isa. xlv. 15. The secret
things belong unto the Lord our God, but those
things which are revealed belong unto us, and to
' our children for ever, Deut. xxix. 29. It is on
this obscure side, that we propose to shew you the
Deity to-day.

Darkness will serve us for light, and the impena-
trable depth of his decrees will fill our minds with
sound and practical knowledge. O the depth of
the riches both oj the ivisdom and knowledge of ^
God! How U7isearchable are his judgments, and
his ways past ^finding out !

In order to enter into the mind of the apostle, it
is necessary to observe the subject to which he ap-
plies the text, and never to lose sight of the design
of this whole epistle. The apostle chiefly proposes
to counteract a scandalous schism in the church df
Rome. This church was composed of two sorts of
ichristianSj some converts from Judaism, others froin

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. 285

paganism. The Jews considered the Gentiles with
contempt, as they always had been accustomed to
consider foreigners. For their parts, they thought,
they had a natural right to all the benefits of the
Messiah, because being born Jews, they weref the
legitimate heirs of Abraham, to whom the pro-
raise was made, whereas the Gentiles partook of
those benefits only by mere favor. St. Paul at-
tacks this prejudice, proves that Jews and Gen-
tiles, being all alike under sin, had all an equal
need of a covenant of grace ; that both derived
their calling from the mercy of God ; that no one
was rejected as a Gentile, or admitted as a Jew :
but that they only should share the salvation pub-
lished by the Messiah, who had been elected in the
eternal decrees of God. The Jews could not re-
lish such humbling ideas, nor accommodate this
doctrine to the prerogatives of their nation ; and
much less could they admit the system of the apos-
tle on predestination. St. Paul employs the chap-
ter, from which we have taken our text, and the
two chapters before to remove their difficulties.
He turns himself, so to speak, on every side to elu-
cidate the subject. He reasons, proves, argues :
but after he hath heaped proofs upon ^ proofs, rea-
sonings upon reasonings, and solutions upon solu-
tions, he acknowledgeth, in the words of the text,
that he glories in falling beneath his subject. In
some sense he classes himself with the most igno-
rant of his readers, allows that he hath not receiv-
ed a sufficient measure of the Spirit of God to ena-
ble him to fathom such depths, and he exclaims on
the brink of this great profound, O the depth of
the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of
^od ! How unsearchable are his judgments y and
his ways past finding out I The apostle therefore
wrote these words of the deep things of God chiefly

286 THE I>££P THINGS OF GOD.

with a view to the conduct of God with regard to
such as he a[>poiDts to glory, and such as be ieavea
in perditicm. I grant, were this text to be accu-
rately discussed, it ought to be considered in re*
gard to these events, and these doctrines : but nOh
thing hinders our examining it in a more extensive
view. The apostle lays down a general maxim,
and takes occasion from a particular subject to es-
tablish an universal truth, that is, that such is the
magnificence of God that it absorbs all our thought,
and that to attempt to reduce the conduct of God
to a level with our fi*ail reason is to be guilty of ex-
treme rashness.

This is what we will endeavor to prove. Come,
christians, follow us, and learn to know yourselves,
and to fed your insignificance. We are going, by
shewing you the Deity in four difierent views to
open to you four great deeps, and to give you four
reasons for exclaiming with the apostle, O the
depth !

The four ways in which God reveals himself to
man, are four manners to display bis perfections,
and at the same time these are four abysses, in
which our imperfect reason is lost. These ways
are — first an idea of the Deity — secondly of na-
ture — thirdly of providence — and fourthly of reve-
lation : four vvays, if I may venture to speak thus,
all shining with light, and yet all covered with
adorable darkness.

I. The first mirror in which we contemplate
God, and at the same time the first abyss in which
our imperfect reason is lost, is the idea we have of
the divine perfections. This is a path leading to
God, a mirror of the Deity. To prove this, at \S
not necessary to examine how we came by this
idea, whether it be natural or acquired, whether

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. 28?

w-e derive it from our parents or our tutors^ whe-
ther the Creator hath immediately engraven it on
tlie iiiind> or wbetlier we ourselves have fprmed it
by a chain of principles and consequences ; a ques-
tion much agitated m the schook, sometimes set-
tled, and sometimes vContix)verted, and on whidi
both sides aflfirm many clear and substantial, tbougti
opposite propositions. Of myself, I am always ful-
ly persuaded, that I have an idea of a Being su-
premely excellent, and one of whpse perfections
I am not able to omit without destroying the es-
sence of the Supreme Being to .wfebm it belongs.
I know too that there must be somewhere without
me an object answering to my idea ; for as I think,
and as I know I am not the author of the faculty
that thinks within me, I am obliged to conclude,
that a foreign cause hath produced it. If this fo-
reign cause is a being, that derives its existence
from another foreign cause, I am necessarily oblig-
ed to proceed from one step to another, and to go
on tifl I find a self-existent being, and this sdf-
existent being is the infinite Being. I have then
an idea of the infinite Beidig. This idea is not a
phantom of my creation, it is the portrait of an
original that exists independently of my reflections.
This is the first way to the Creator : this is the first
mirror of his perfections.

O how long, how infinitely^exteoded is this way!
How impossible for the mind to pervade a distance
so immense ! How obscure is this inirror ! IJow is
my soul dismayed, when 1 aitempt to sail in this
immeasurable ocean ! An infamous man, who lived
in thfe beginning of the last century, a man who
conceived the most abominable design that ever
was, who fjormed with eleven persons of his own
casta college of infidelity, from whence be might
send his emissaries into all tlie worM to raise out of

StSS TH£ D££P THINGS OF GOD.

every mind the opinion of the existence of God.
This man took a very singular method to prove
that there was no Grod, that was to' state the ge-'
neral idea of God. He thought, to define was to
destroy it, and that to say what God is, was the
best way to disprove his existence. Gody said that
impious man, God is a being who exists through
irifinite ages^ and yet is not capable of past or to
comey he Jills all without being in any place, he ?>
^xed without situation, he pervades all ivithout
motion^ he is good zvithout quality, great without
quantityy unfversal without, parts, moving all
things without bein^ moved himself ^ his will con-
stitutes his poiver, and his power is confounded
with his zvilly without all, tvithin all, beyond all^
before ally and after all.*"

* The book, from which our author quoted the above pas-
sage, is entitled Jimpbitheatrum aterrut provldcntU . . . adversiu
atbeosy &c. Lyons. 1615. 8vo. The author Venini was a
Neapolitan, bom in 1585. He was educated at Rome, and
ordained a priest at Padua. He travelled into many coun-
tries, and was persecuted in most. In 16 14 he was imprison-
ed in England for forty-nine days. After his enlargement
he became a monk in Guienne. From the convent he was ba-
nished for his immorality. He found, however, powerful
patrons. Mareschal Bassompiere made him his chaplai%
and his famous jimphitheatre was approved by four persons,
a doctor of divinity, the vicar general of Lyons, the king's
proctor, and the lieutenant general of Lyons, in which they
affirm, « that having read the book, there was nothing in it
contrary to the Roman Catholic faith," one example of the
ignorance or carelessness with which licensers of the press dis-
charge their office, and consequently one argument among
thousands fqr the freedom of the press. This unfortunate
man was condemned at Toulouse to be burnt to death, which
sentence was executed Feb. 16, 1619. The execution of
this cruel sentence, cast into logical form runs thus : Vanini
denied the being of a God....the parliament of Toulouse
burnt Vanini.... therefore there is a God.

fBB DEEP THINGS OF GOD. S89

But though it be absurd to argue against the ex-
istence of God from the eminence of his perfect ionSj
yet it is the wisdom of man to derive from this
subject inferences humbling to his proud and in-
fatuated reason. We detest the design of the writ-
er just now mentioned, but we approve of a part
of the definition^ which our atheist gives of God.
Far from pretending that such a definition degrades
the object of our worship from his supreme rank in
the scale of beings, it inclines us to pay him the
most profound homage, of which creatures are ca-
pable, and to lay down our feeble reason before
his infinite excellence.

Yes, God is a being who exists through vifiiiite
cges s Qnd yet is not capable of past or to come.
The vast number of ages, which the rapidity of
time hath carried away, are as present to him as
this very indivisible moment, and the most distant
futurity doth not conceal any remote event from
his eyes. He unites in one single instant, the
past, the present, and all periods to come. He is
by excellencfe, / am that I am. He loses nothing
by ages spent, he acquires nothing by succession.
Yes. God fills all without being in any place.
Ascend up into heaven^ he is there. Make your
bed in hell, behold he is there. Take the win^s of
the morning and dwell in the uttermost part of
the sea, even there shall his hand lead you. Say,
surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night
shall be light about you, Psal. cxxxix. 8, &c. Yet
he hath no place, and the quality by which our bo-
dies are inclosed in these walls, and adjusted with
the particles of air that surround us, cannot agree
Vfith his spirituality. God pervades all without
motion. The quickness of lightning, which in an
instant passes from east to west, cannot equal the
rapidity with which his intelligence ascends to the

VOL. V. 2 o

ii90 THB D££P THINGS OF GOP.

highest heavfens, descends to the deepest abysses,
and visits in a moment all parts of the universe.
Yet he is immoveable, and doth not quit one place
to be present in another, but abides with his dis-
ciples on earth, while he is in heaven, in the cen^
tre of felicity and glory. His will consUttttes his
power J and his power doth not differ from his will.
All creatures in the universe own their existence to
a single act of his will, and a thousand new Worlds
wait only for such an act to spring from nothing
and to shine with glory. God is above all, all be-
ing subject to his power. Within ally all being
an emanation of his will. Befort all, after all.
Stretch thine imagination, firail but haughty dhea-
ture, try the utmost eflForts of thy genius, elevate
thy meditations, collect thy thoughts, see whether
thou canst attain to comprdiend Itn -^cistence with-
out beginning, a duration without succession, a pre-
sence without circumference, an immobility with-
out place, and agility without motion, and many
other attributes, which the mind can conceive, but
which languge is too imperfect to express. Secj^
weigh, calculate. // is as higli as heaven, wkait
canst thou do ? Deeper than hell, what cufist tho^u
know ? Canst thou by searching find out God ?
Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ?
Job. xi. 8, 7. Let us then exclaim on the bordeVs
of the abyss, O the depth !

II. The second way that leads us to the Creator,
and at the same time the second abyss in which our
reason is lost, is the works of nature. The study
of nature is easy, and all the works of nature have
a bright and luminous side. In the style of a pro-
phet, the heavens have a voice, which declai^e the
glory of God; and, as an apostle expresses it,
crearion is a visible image of the invisible things of

THE PEEP THINGS OF GOD. S91

God s yet tliere is also a daric obscure side. What
a prodigious variety of creatures are there beyond
the sphere of otir senses ! How many thousands,
how many ten thousand times ten thousand spirits,
called angels, archangels, cherubims, seraphims,
thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers, of
all which we know not either the properties, the
<^perations, the number, or the employment ! What
a prodigious multitude of stars, and suns, and re-
volving worlds, in comparison of which our earth
i^ laothing but a point, and of all which we know
neither the variety, the glory, nor the appointment !
How many things are there on earth, plants, mi-
neral, and animals, into the nature and use of
lyhich the industry of man could never penetrate !
Why so mucli treasure hid in the depths of the sea ?
Why such vast countries, such impenetrable fo-
rests, and such uninhabited climes as have never
^een surveyed, and the whole of which perhaps
will never he discovered ? What is the use of some
insects, and some monsters, which seem to be a
burden to nature, and made only to disfigure it ?
Why doth the Creator deprive man of many rich
production*, that would be of the gre^atest advan-
tage to him, while he abandons them to beasts of
Uie field or fishes of the sea, which derive no be-
nefit from them ? Whence came rivers, fountains,
winds and tempests, the power of the loadstone,
and the ebbing and flowing of the tides ! Philoso-
pher 1 reply, or rather avow your ignorance, and
^knowl^ge how deep the ways of your Creator
are.

But it is but little to humble man, to detect iiis
ignorance on these subjects. It is not astonishing
that he should err in paths so sublime, and it is
more glorious to him to have attempted these im-
practicable roads, then shameful to have done so

I "

^92 TH& DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

»

without success. There are other objects more pro-
per to humble human reason. Objects in appear-
ance less subject to difficulty absorb the mind of
man, whenever he attempts thoroughly to investi-
gate them. Let him consider himself, and he will
lose himself in meditating on his own essence.
Wliat is man ? What is that soul, which thinks and
reflects ? What (iionstitutes the union, of a spirit
with a portion of matter ? What is that matter, to
which a spirit is united.^ So many questions, so many
abysses, so many unfathomable depths in the ways
of the Creator.

What is the soul of man ? In what doth its es-
sence consist ? Is it the power ofdisplaying his fa-
culties ? But then this consequence would follow,
that a soul may have the essence of a soul without
having ever thought, reasoned or reflected, provi-
ded it hath the power of doing so. Is it the act of
thinking ? But then it would follow, that a spirit,
when it ceases to think, ceases to be a spirit, which
seems contrary to experience. What then is a soul?
Is it a collection of successive thoughts ? But how
can such and such thoughts, not one of which apart
is essential to a soul, constitute the essence of it
when they are joined together ? Is it something
distinct from all these ? Give us, if it be possible,
a clear idea of this subject ? What is a soul ? Is
it a substance immaterial, indivisible, different from
body, and which cannot be enveloped in it ruins ?
Certainly: but when we give you this notion, we
rather tell you what the soul is not than what it is.
You will say, you remove false notions, but you
give us no true and positive ideas; you tell us in-
deed that spirit Js nof body, but you do not explain
what spirit is, and we demand an idea clear, real
and adequate.

As I confound myself by considering the nature

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. SflO

of my soul, so I am perplexed again when I examine
the uiiion of this soul with this body. Let us be
informed, by what miracle a substance without
extension and without parts can be united to a sub-
stance material and extended ? What connection
is there between willing to move and motion?
What relation has a trace on the brain, to an. idea
of the mind ? How does the soul go in search of
ideas before ideas present themselves ? Jf ideas
present themselves what occasion for search ? To
have recourse to the power of God is wise, I grant,
if we avail ourselves of this answer to avoid our ig-
norance : but if we use it to cover that, if we pre-
tend to explain every thing, by saying God is
omnipotent, andean do all these things, we cer-
tainly deceive ourselves. It is to say, I know no-
thing ; in philosophical terms, and when, it should
seem, we affect to say, I perfectly understand it.

In fine, I demand an explication of the human '
body ? What am I saying ? The human body ! I
take the smallest particle of it ; I take only one
atom, one little gram of dust, and I give it to be
examined by all the schools, and all the universities
in the world. This atom hath extent, it. may be
divided, it is capable of motion, it reflects light, and
every one of these properties furnishes a thousand
and a thousand questions, which the greatest philo-
sophers can never answer.

My brethren, when we are in the schools, when
we occupy the chair of a professor, when we make
it a law to answer every question, it is easy to
talk, and as the wise man expresses it, Xo find a
great deal to say * There is an art, which is called

* Eccles. vii. 29. The English translation of this text is,
man hath sought out many inventions. The French bible
reads, Ont cherche beaucoup de descours that ns, mankind
have found out a great many questions to ask, and a great

294 THE DEEJ? THINGS OF OOD.

maintaining a thesis, and this art is very properly
named, for it doth not consist m weighing and
solving difficulties, or in acknowledging our igno-
rance: but in persisting to affirm our own position,
and obstinately to defend it. But when we retire
to our studies, coolly meditate, and endeavor to sa-
tisfy ourselves, if we have any accuracy of thought,
' we reason in another manner. Every sincere and
ingenious man must acknowledge that solidity,
weight, light, ^nd extent are subjects, on which
many very curious, and very finely imagined things
have been said, but which to this day leave tlie
mind almost in as much micertainty as before.
Thus this sublime genius, this author of so many
volumes^ this consummate philosopher, cannot ex-
plain what a grain of dust is, so that one atom, one
single atom is a rock fatal to all his philosophy^
against it all his science is dashed, shipwi*edced and
lost.

Let us conclude that nature, this mirror descrip-
tive of God is dark and obscure. This is empha-
tically expressed by two inspired writers, the apos-
tle Paul and holy Job. The first says, God hath
made all nations of men^ the earthy the appointed
seasons^ and the bounds of merCs habitationy that
they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel
after him and find him. Acts xvii. 26. 29. This
is both a passably road to God, and an unfathomable
abyss. That they might seek the Lord; this is a
way leading to God. That they might find him
by feeling after h im ; this is the abyss. In like
manner Job describes in lively colors the mulitude

many sophisms to affirm on this subject \ or in other words,
a great deal to say concerning original rectitude of man.
The original vague terms ar^ rend^ed by some critics, Ipse
se infiniies miscuerit quastlonibus*

TH£ DEEP THINGS OF GOD. 9Q5'

and variety of the works of the Creator, atid finishes
by adknowledgtng, that all we know is nothing in
comparison of what we are ignorant of* -He
stretcketh out the north over the empty place, and
hangeth the enrth upon nothings He hath com-
passed the waters with bounds. The pillars cf
heaven tremble, and are astonished at his reproc^.
He divide th the sea with his power. By his spirit he
hiath garnished the heavens, his hand hath formed
the crooked serpent. Yet these are only parts of his
ways! Job xxvi. 7. SC-c- Weigh these expres-
sions well. This firmament, this earth, these wa-
fers, these pillars of heaven, this boundless space,
the sun with its light, the heavens with their stars,
the earth with its plants, the sea with its fish, these,
hy these are only parts of his ways, but how little
a portion is heard of him ! The glorious extent
of his power who can understand ! Let ns then,
placed as we are on the borders of the works of na-
ture, humbly exclaim, O the depth I

III. Providence is the third path to God, and
•acflbrds us new motives to adore his perfections :
but which also confounds the mind, and makes us
feel that God is no less incomprehensible in his
toanner of governing the world than in that of
creating it. It would be easy to prove this, if time
would allow us to examine the secret ways which
providence uses to govern this universe. Let us be
content to cast our eyes a moment on the conduct
of providence in the government of the church for
the last century and a half.

Who would have thought that in a neighboring
kingdom, a cruel and superstitious king, the greatest
enemy that the reformation ever had, he, who by
the fury of his arms, and by the productions of his
pen, opposed this great work, refuting those whom

296 TH£ DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

he could not persecute^ and persecuting those
whom he could not refute, who would have thought
that this monarch should first serve the work he in-
tended to subvert, clear the way for reformation,
and by shaking oflF the yoke of the Roman pon-
tiflF, execute the plan of providence, while he seemed
to do nothing but satiate his voluptuousness and
ambition ?

Who would have thought that the ambitious
Clement, to maintain some chimerical rights,
which the pride of the clergy had forged, and to
which the cowardice of the people and the effemi-
nacy of their princes had granted, who would have
believed, that this ambitious pope, by hurhng the
thunders of the Vetican against this king, would
have lost all that great kingdom, and thus would
have given the first stab to a tyranny which he in-
tended to confirm ?

Who would have imagined that Zuinglius would
have had such amazing success among the people
in the world the most inviolably attached to the
customs of their predecessors, a people scrupulously
retaining even the dress of their ancestors, apebple
above all so inimical to innovations in religion, that
they will hardly bear a new explication of a passage
of scripture, a new argument, or a modern critical
remark, who would have supposed, that they could
have been persuaded to embrace a religion diame-
trically opposite to that which they had imbibed
with their mother's milk.

Who would have believed that Luther could have
surmounted the obstacles that opposed the success
of his preaching in Germany, and that the proud
emperor, who reckoned among his captives pon-
tiffs and kingSi could not subdue one miserable
monk ?

Who would have thought that the barbarous tri-

THE BEEP THI)?GS OF GOD. S97

buaal of the inquisition, which had enslaved so
many nations to superstition, should have been in
these provinces one of the principal causes of our
reformation ?

And perhaps the dark night which now en(-
velops one part of the church, will issue in a bright
morning. Perhaps they, who in future time speak
' of providence, will have reason to add to a catalogue
ofthe deep things of divine government, the man-
ner in which God shall have delivered the truth op-
pressed in a kingdom, where it once flourished
in vigor and beauty. Perhaps, the repeated blows
given to the reformed may serve only to establish
the reformation. But we abridge this third article,
and proceed to the fourth, in which we are to treat
of the depths of revelation^

IV. Shall ive produce the mortifying list of un-
answerable questions to which many doctrines of
our religion are liable ^ as for exaple, those which
regard the Trinity, the incarnation, the satisfac-
tion, the union of two natures in Jesrus Christ, the
secret ways of the holy Spirit, in converting the
souls of men, the precise nature of the happiness
to be enjoyed in the intermediate state between
our death and our resurrection, the faculties of glo-
rified bodies, the recollection of what we shall have
seen in this worlds and many more of the same
kind ?

All this would carry us too far from the principal
design of the apostle. It is time to return to the
precise su^ect which inspired him with this excla-
mation. The words of our text are, as we have
intimated, the conclusion of a discourse, contained
in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh chapters of this
epistle. These chapters are the cross of divines.
The questions there treated of concerning the de-

VOL. V. 2 p

■ «

298 THE DEEf THINGS jPF GOD.

crees of God are so abstruse, that in^ all ages of the
church, and particularly since the seism of Plegaius,
divines orthodox and heterodox have employed all
their eftbrts to give us a system free fron^ difficul-
ties, and they have all failed in their design.

To enable you to comprehend this, we are going
succinctly to state their dvf&rent systems $ and the
short view we shall take will be sufficient to con-
vince you, that the subject is beyoMl the reach of
the human mind, and that though the opinion of
our churches hath this advantage above others,
that it is more conformable to right reason, and to
the decisions of scripture, yet it is not without its
abysses and depth^.

Let us begin with the system of Socim^s and his
followers. God, according to them, not only hath
not determined the salvation of his children, but
he could' not even foresee it. Whatever man re-
solves depends on his own volition, and whatever
depends on human volition cannot be an object of
the knowledge of God, so that God could not foresee
whether I should believe or not believe, whether I
should obey or not obey, wheCher I should receive
the gospel or rgect it. God made no other decree
than that of saving such as believcj, obey, and sub-
mit to his gospel : these things depend on my will,
what depends on my will is uncertain^ an uncertain
ohgect cannot be an object of certain knowledge :
God therefore cannot certainly foresee whether my
condition will be eternally happy, or eternally mi-
serable.

This is the system. Thanks be to God, we
preach to a christian auditory. It is not necessary
to refute these errors, and you feel, I persuade my-
self, that to reason in this manner is not to elucidate,
but subvert religion ; it is at once to degrade God
from his Deity and scripture from its infallibility.

THE D££P THINGS OF GOP. 399

This system degrades God, for what, pray, is
a Grod, who created beings, and who could not
foresee what would result from their existence ? A
God who formed spirits united to bodies by cer-
tain laws, and who did not know how to combine
these laws so as to foresee the effects they would
produce ? A God forced to suspend his Judgment ?
A God who every day learns something new, and
who doth know to-day what will happen to-mor-
row ? A God whO/Cannot tell whether peace will
be concluded, or war continue to ravage the worid ?
whether religion will be received in a certain king-
dom, or whether it will be banished ? whether the
right heir will succeed to the crown, or whether the
crown will be set on the head of an usurper?
For according to the different determinations of the
wills of men^ of king, or people, the prince will
make peace, or declare war, religion will be ba-
nished or admitted, the tyrant or the lawful king
will occupy the throne ; for if God cannot foresee
how the volitions of men will be determined, he
cannot foresee any of these events. What is this
but to degrade God from his deity, and to make
the most perfect of all intelligences a being involved
in darkness and uncertainty like ourselves.

Further, to deny the presence of God is to de-
grade scripture from its infallibility, for how can
we pretend to respect scripture when we deny that
God knows the determinations and volitions of
mankind ? What then are we to understand by
all the express declarations on this subject ? For
example, what doth the psalmist mean ? O God,
thou hast searched and known me. Thou knowest
my down sitting and up-rising^ thou understandest
my thoughts afar of] Thou art acquainted mth
all my ways, for there is not a word in my tongue
but thou knovoest it altogether. Psal. cxxxix* l,.&c«

300 TH£ DE£P THINGS OP GOP.

What means God himself speaking by Ezekiel?
Thus saith the Lord to the house of IsraeL I knoiv
the thoughts that come into your mind every one
of them i chap. xi. 5. And again by Isaiah ? / know
that thou wouldst deal very treacherously, chap,
xlviii. 8. What did St. Peter mean ? Speaking of
his own thoughts, he said. Lord thou knozoest all
things, John xxi. 17. What does the wise man
mean, who assures us, not only that God knows
the hearts of kings, but that he hath them in his
hand, and turneth thetfi ivhithersoever he please th
as rivers of water ? Prov. xxi. 1 .

Above all, how can this principle be reconciled
to many express prophecies of events, which being
closely connected with the volitions of men, could
not have been certainly foretold, unless God at the
time had a certain knowledge of these determina-
tions ? ** The prescience of God, saith Turtulian,
hath as many witnesses as there are prophets and
prophecies." Had not God foreseen that Jesus
Christ would preach the gospel in Judea, that the
Jews would hate him, that they would deliver him
to Pilate, that they would solicit his death, that Pi-
late would have the meanness and pusillanimity to
yield to their entreaties ; had not God known all
these things, how could he have predicted them ?

But the men who oppose do not much respect
the decisions of scripture. The principle, to which
all this system tends, is, that reason is to decide on
the doctrines of scripture, and not that the doc-
trines of scripture are to direct reason. This
principle once granted, all the doctrines of our faith
are subverted, as experience proves. See into
what rash declarations this principle hath conducted
Socinus and his followers. What decision of scrip-
ture, what doctrine of faith, what truth however es-
tablished, repeated and enforced, hath it not allureil

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOP. 301

them to deny ? The bondage of the human will
seems to destroy the nature of man : this bondage
must be denied. But the doctrine of absolute de-
crees seems to disagree with the liberty of man :
these absolute deirees must be denied. But the
foreknowledge of God cannot be allowed without'
the doctrine of decrees : the foreknowledge of God
must be denied. But a thousand prophesies prove
this prescience : the mystical sense of these pro-
phesies must be denied. But Jesus Christ hath
verified them : then Jesus Christ must be denied,
his titles, his attributes, his works, his worship, his
satisfaction, his divinity, his union to God, his in-
carnation, must all be denied : he must be made a
mere mait, a prophet, a teacher distinguished from
others only by some extraordinary talents: the
whole system of the gospel, of salvation, and of
redemption, must be denied. To follow these
ideas, my brethren, is to tumble from precipice to
precipice, witbout knowing where we shall stop.

We propose in the second place the system of
our brethren of the confession of Augsburgh, and
that of Arminius ; for though they diflFer in other
articles, yet they both agree pretty nearly in this
point. Their system is this. They grant fore-
knowledge: but they deny foreappointment. They
allow indeed that God always foresaw who^ would
be happy in heaven, and who victims in hell : but
they tremble at the thesis, which affirms that God
predestinated the first to felicity, and the last to
misery. According to them, God made no other
decree than to save believers, and to condemn infi-
dels : he gave all men assistance sufficient to enable
them to believe, and having only foreseen who
would believe, and who would not believe, he
made no decree to secure the faith of some, and
the unbelief of the rest.

302 THE P££P THINGS OF GOP.

Although it is never our custom to envenom
controversy, and to tax people with heresy for not
bein^ of our opinion ; although we would ratlier
reconcile opposite opinions than triumph in refut-
ing them ; yet we cannot help making three reflec-
tions. First, this system doth not agree with it-
self — ^secondly, it is directly opposite to many de-
cisions of the holy Spirit, and particularly to the
doctrine of the three chapters before us — and
thirdly, should we grant the whole, a thousand
difficulties would remain in the doctrine of the
decrees of God, and we should always be obliged
to exclaim, as these brethren must on this article^
O the depth !

\. We affirm, that this system is inconsistent
with itself, that the doctrine of prescience sup-
poses that of predestination, and that unless we
deny that God foresaw our salvation, we are
obliged by our own thesis to affirm that he predes-
tinated us to it. I grant there is a sense, in which
it is true that to foresee a thing is different from
determining to bring it to pass ; but there is ano-
ther sense, in which to foresee and fore-appoint is
one and the same thing. If I foresee that a prince
sending armed troops into the house of the widow
and orphan, will expose that house to pillage, it is
certain my foresight hath no influence in the fate of
that house; and in this case to foresee the act of
plundering is not a determination to plunder. ^ But
if the prince foresee this event, if he knew the rage
and fury with which his soldiers are animated, if
he knew by experience that in such conjunctures
they have committed such crimes, if, in spite of this
prescience he send his madmen into this house, if
he allow them their armor, if he lay them under
no restsaint, if he do not appoint any superior
officer to bridle their fury, do you not think, my

THE DEE? THINGS* OF GOD, 30S

brethren, that to foresee and to resolve this case
are in him one and the same thing ?

Apply these reflections to our subject. Let us
suppose that before the creation of this world, God
had subsisted alone, with one other spirit, such as
you please to imagine. Suppose, when God
had formed the plan of the world, he had commu-
nicated it' to this spirit that subsisted with him.
Suppose, that God, who formed the plan, and the
intelligence to whom he had communicated it, had
both foreseen that some men of this world would
be saved, and others lost, do you not perceive that
there would have been an essential difference be-
tween the prescience of God and the prescience of
the spirit we have imagined ? The foreknowledge
of this last would not have had any influence either
over the salvation or destruction of mankind, be-
cause this spirit would have foreknown, and that
would have been all : but is not the foreknowledge
of God of another kind ? Is that a speculative,
idle, and uninfluential knowledge ? 'He not only
foresaw, but he created. He not only foresaw that
man being free, would make ^ good or ill use of
his liberty, but he gave him that liberty. To
foresee ana to fore-appoint in God is only one and
the same thing. If indeed you only mean to af-
firm, by saying that these are two different acts,
that God doth no violence to his creatures, but
that notwithstanding his prescience, the one hard-
ens himself freely, and the other believes freely :
if this be all you mean, give us the right hand of
fellowship, for this is exactly our system, and we
have no need to asperse one another, as both hold
the same doctrine.

There is a second inconvenience in the system of

"^bare prescience, that is, that it doth not square

with scripture, which clearly establishes the doc-

304 THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

trine of predestination. We omit many passages
usually quoted in this controversy ; as that Jesus
Christ said to his Father, / ihartk thee, O Father,
thai thou hast hid these things from the wise and
prudent, and hath revealtd them unto babes.
Even sOy Father, for so it seemed good in thy
sight. Matt. xi. 25. And this of St. Paul, God
hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the
world, having predestinated us to the adoption of
sons, Eph. i. 4. As this famous passage, zvhom he
did foreknow them he did predestinate, and whom
he did predestinate them he also called, Rom. viii.
28. 29.

We omit all these passages, because our oppo-
nents dispute the sense we give of them, and be-
cause it is but justice either to hear and answer
their objections (which the limits of these exercises
will not allow) or not to make use of them, for
that would be taking for granted what is not al-
lowed, that is, that these passages speak of pre-
destination in our sense of the term. Let us con-
tent ourselves to oppose against the doctrine of
prescience without predestination, these three chap-
ters in Romans, of which the text is the close.

I am aware of what is objected. It is said that
we make phantoms to combat ; that the mean-
ing of St. Paul is clear, that the end he had in
view puts the matter out of doubt, and that his
end hath no relation to absolute decrees, much
less did he design to establish them. The apos-
tle had laid down this position, that the gospel
would hereafter be the only economy of salvation,
and consequently that an adherence to the levitical
institution would be fatal. The Jews object to
this, for they could not comprehend how an ad-
herence to a divine institution could lead to peiv
d it ion. St. Paul answers these complaints, by tel-

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. 303

ling them that God had a right to annex his grace
to what conditions he thought proper, and that the
Jews, having rejected the Messiah, who brought
salvation to them, had no reason to complain, be-
cause God had deprived them of a covenant, the
conditions of which they had not performed. Ac-
cording to these divines, this is all the mystery of
these chapters, in which, say they, there is no
trace of predestination.

But how can this be supposed to contain the
whole design of the apostle ? Suppose a Jew
should appear in this auditory, and make these
objections against us. You christians form an in-
consistent idea of God. God said, the mosaical
worship should be eternal : but you say, God hath
abolished it. God said, he that doth these things
shall live by them : but you say, that he who doth
these things shall go into endless perdition for doing
them. God said, the Messiah should come to the
children of Abraham : but you say, be hath cast
off the posterity of the patriarch, and made a co-
venant with pagan nations. Suppose a Jew to start
these difficulties, and suppose we would wish sim-
ply to remove them, independently on the decrees
we imagine in God, what should we say to this
Jew ? We should tell him first, that he had mistaken
the sense of the laws and that the eternity promised
to the levitical economy, signified only a duration
till the advent of the Messiah. Particularly, we
ishould inform him, that his complaints against the
Messiah were groundless. You complain, we
should say, that God makes void his fidelity. by
abandoning you, but your complaint is unjust.
God made a covenant with your fathers, he pro-
mised to bless their posterity, and engaged to send
your Redeemer to bestow numberless benedictions
and favors upon you. This redeemer is come, tie

V0I-. V. 2 Q •

i

3\)6 THB DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

' was born among you, in your nation^ of a family
in one of your own tribes : he began to discharge
liis office among you, and set salvation before you ;
you rejected him, you turned his doctrine into ri-
dicule, you called him Beelzebub, you solicited
his death, at length you crucified him, and since
that you have persecuted him in his ministers and
disciples. On the contrary, the Gentiles display
his virtues, and they are prodigal of their blood
to advance his glory. It is surprising, that God so
dispenses his favors as to distinguish two nations so
very different in the manner of their obedience to
his authority ?

Instead of this, what doth St. Paul ? Hear his
answers. B^ore the children were born^ before
they had done either good or evit^ that the pur-
pose of God according to election might standy he
satth, the elder shallserve the younger. Jacob
have I loved, but Esau have I hated. I will
have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I
will have compassion on whom I will have com-
passion. The scripture saith to Pharaoh, for this
purpose have I raised thee iip^ that I might make
my power known. He hath mercy on whom he
zvill have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.
Who art thou who repliest against God? Shall
the thing formed say to him that formed it, xvhy
hast thou made me thus ? Have not the potter
power over^the clay ; of the same lump to make
one vessel to honor and another to dishonor ?
What, if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to
make his power knotvn, endures with much long
suffering the vessels of wrath prepared to rfe-
struction ? Rom. ix. 11. &c. In all these answers
St. Paul had recourse to the decrees of God. And
6ne proof that this is the doctrine he intends to
teach the converted Jew, to whom he addressee

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. 307

himself, is, that this Jew makes some objections
which have no ground in the system we attack,
but which are precisely the same that have been
always urged against the doctrine of predestina-
tion. Why doth ye yet find fauU f Fqr who
hath resisted his will P Thus the system of pre-
science without predestination doth not agree with *
scripture.

' We ask, thirdly, what is this system good for ?
Does it cast any light on the ways ^ providence ?
Does it fill up any of the depths which absorb our
imperfect reason ? In a word, is it not subject to
the very same difficulties as that of predestination ?
These difficulties are the following : how could a
Grod supremely good create men, who he knew
must be some day infinitely miserable } How could
a -God infinitely holy |>ermit sin to enter the
world ? How is it, that a God of infinite love to
justice, doth not bestow on all mankind succor
sufficient to render therti perfectly holy ? How
came it to pass, that a God, who declares he would
have all men to be saved, did not reveal his will
for the space of four thousand years to any but
the single nation of the Jews ? How is it, that at
this present time he doth not extend our conquests
to the ends of the earth, that we might carry thi^
ther the light of Christianity, preach the gospel in
idolatrous climes and the mosques of Moh^gnmed ?
How doth be afford life, and health, and strength-,
and opportunity to a creature, while he prosecutes
black and horrible crimes, which make nature
tremble? These are great difficulties in provi-
dence. Let any one inform us of a system with-
out them, and we are ready to embrace it : but
in the system now before us ail these difficulties
are contained, and should we grant its advocates
all they require, they would be obliged however

308 THE D£EP THINGS OF GOD.

i

to exclaim with us on the borders of the ways of
God, O the depth I

The third system is of that of such divines as
are called Supralapstarians. The word supra-
lapsarian signifies above the fall, and these divines
are so called because they so arrange the decrees
of God as to go above the fall of man, as we are
going to explain. Their grand principle is, that
God made all things for his own glory, that his
design in creating the universe was to manifest his
perfections, and particularly his justice and his
goodness ; that for this purpose he created men
with design that they should sin, in order that in ^
the end he might appear infinitely good in pardon*
ing some, and perfectly just in condemning others ;
so that God resolved to punish such and such per-
sons, not because he foresaw they would sin, but
he resolved they should sin that he might damn
them. This is their system in a few words. It
is not that, which is generally received in our
churches, but there have been many members and
divines among us who adopted and defended it :
but whatever veneration we profess for their me-
mory, we ingeniously own, we cannot digest such
consequences as seem to us necessarily to follow
these positions. We will just mention the few
difficulties following.

First, we demand an explanation of what they
mean by this principle, God hath made all things
for his own glory. If they mean, that justice re-
quires a creature to devote himself to the worship
and glorifying of his Creator, we freely grant it.
If they mean that the attributes of God are dis-
played in all his works, we grant this too. But if
this proposition be intended to affirm, that God
had no other view in creating men, so to speak,
than his own interest, we deny the proposition.

THE DEEP THINGS OP GOD. 309

«

and affirm that God created men for their own hap*
piness, and in order to have subjects upon whom
he might bestow favors.

We desire to be informed^ in the next place^
how it can be conceived, that a detennination to
damn millions of men can contribute to the glory
of God ? We easily conceive, that it is for the
glory of divine justice to punish guilty men : but
to resolve to damn men without the consideration
of sin, to create them that they might sin, to de-
termine that they should sin in order to their de-
struction is what seems to us more likely to tarnish
the glory of God than to display it.

Thirdly, we demand, how, according to this hy-
pothesis, it can be conceived that God is not the
author of sin ? In the general scheme of our
churches, God only permits men to sin, and it is
the abuse of liberty that plunges man into mi-
sery. Even this principle, all lenified as it seems^
is yet subject to a great number of difficulties : but
in this of our opponents, God wills sin to produce
the end he proposed in creating the world, and it
was necessary that men should sin ; God" created
them for that. If this.be not to constitute God
the author of sin, we must renounce the most dis-
tinct and clear ideas.

Fourthly, we require them to reconcile this sys-
tem with many express declarations of scripture,
which informs us, that God would have all men
saved. How doth it agree with such pressing in-
treaties, such cutting reproofs, siich tender expos-
tulation as God discovers in regard to the uncon-
verted ; O that my people had hearkened unto me I
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have
gathered thy children together, even as a hen ga-
thers her chickens under her wings, and ye would
not? Matt. xxiii 37.

SIO THE DEE9 THINGS OF GOD.

Lastly, we cksire to know, how it is possible to
conceive a God, who, being in the actual enjoy-
ment of perfect happiness, incomprehensible and su-r
preme, could determine to add this degree, though
useless, to his felicity, to create men without num-
ber, foi^ the purpose of confining them forever in
chains of darkness, and burning them forever in un-
quenchable flames.

Such are the gulfs opened to us by these di-
vines ! As they conceive of the ways of God in
a manner so much beyond comprehension, no peo-
ple in the world have so much reason as they to
exclaim, O the depths ! How unsear^hatde are
the ways of Gad ! For my part, I own, I cannot
enough wonder at men, who tell us in cool bloody
that God created this universe on purpose to save
one man, and to damn an hundred thousand;
that neither sighs, nor prayers, nor tears, nor
groans, can revoke this decree ; that we must sub-
mit to the sentence of a GoA, whose glory requires
the creation of all these people for destruction ?
I say, I cannot sufficiently express my astonish-
ment at seeing people maintain these propositions
with inflexibility and insensibility, without at-
tempting to mitigate or limit the subject ; yea,
who tell us that all this is extremely plain and
free from every difficulty, and that none of our ob-
jections deserve an answer.

Such being the difficulties of the several systems
of the decrees of God, it should seem, there is but
one part to take, and that is, to embrace the plan
of our churches ; for although it is evident by the
reflections we have made, that the subject is obscure,
yet it is that of all which is most conformable to
the light of reason, and to the holy scriptures. W^
believe that God from a principle of goodness
created mankind — that it was agreeable to his wis-

THE DEEP THIKOS OF GOD. Sll

dom to form man free— that the root of mankind,
Adada, otiit unhappy father, abused his liberty-^
that bis descendants have added to their natural
depravity, and to the sins of their ancestors, many
crimes of their own-— that a conduct so monstrous
rendered parents and children worthy of eternal
misery, so that without violating the laws of jus**
tice, God might forever punish both — that having
foreseen from all eternity these misfortunes, he
resolved from all eternity to take from this un-
worthy mass of condemned creatures a certain
number of men to be saved — that for them he
sent his Son into the world — that he grants them
his spirit to apply the bene^p of the death of his
Son— $nd that this spirit cmiducts them by the
hearing of the word to sanctification, and from
sanctification to eternal felicity. This in a few
words is the system of our churches.

Hereupon, if you ask, how it happens that two
men to whom Christ is preached, the one receives
and the other rejects him ? We answer with St.
Paul, this difference is, thctt the purpose of God
according t9 election might stand. If you ask
again, whence comes this choice, how is it that
God chooses to give his spirit, and to display his
mercy to one, and that he chooses to make the
other a victim to his justice? We answer, God
hath mercy on whom he will have mercy^ and
whom he will he hardeneth ; that is, leaveth him
to his own insensibility. If you inquire further,
how God can, without injuring his holiness, leave
a man to his own hardness ? We reply, that God
is master of his creature, and that the potter hath
power over the clay^ of the same lump to make
one vessel unto honor and another unto dishonor.
If you still demand, what then is the use of our
ministry, and what right hath God to complain

..■.„•*•-;:

312 TH£ DE£P THINGS OF GOP.

that SO many sinners persist in impenitence, since
he bath resolved to leave them in it ? To this we
answer. Who art thou that repliest against God ?
Shall the thing Jormed say to him that formed
it, why hast thou made me thus ?

After all these questions, should you appeal to
our consciences to know whether our own answers
fully satisfy ourselves; whether our arguments
may not be turned against us ; whether the ob-
jections we have made against others do not seem
to conclude against ourselves; and whether the
system we have proposed to you appear to our-
selves free from difficulty ; to this we reply, by
putting our finger i%pn our mouth : we acknow-
ledge our ignorance: we cannot rend the veil
under which God hath concealed his mysteries :
we declare, that our end in choosing this sub-
ject was less to remove difficulties than to press
them home, and by these means to make you feel
the toleration which christians mutually owe one
another on this article. It was with this view that
we led you to the brink of this abyss of God, and
endeavored to engage you to exclaim here, as well
as on the borders of other abysses, O the depth,
of the riches^ both of the tvisdom and knowledge
of God ! How unsearchable are his judgments^^
and his zvays past ^finding out !

So much for the deep things of God, considered
as objects astonishing and transporting the mind.
Now let us consider them as objects productive
of virtue and holiness. As the doctrine we have
been establishing is most sublime in speculation,so
is it most effectual in practice. Recall what we
said on the darkness in which God conceals him-
self Remember this obscurity is every where
mixed with light, a sort of twilight. There is ob-
scurity in our natural ideas, obscurity in the works.

TRE I>££P THINGS OF 60P. SIS

of nature, obscurity in the conduct of providence^j
obscurity in many doctrines of revelation. Amidst
all this darkness, I discover one certain principle,
one particle of pure light emitting brightness with-
out obscurity, one truth which natural ideas, the
whole creation, the ways of providence, and the
language of revelation conctir to teach us, that is,
that a holy life is necessary.

We do not make this reflection by wfty of intro-
ducing scepticism, and to diminish the certainty of
the doctrines which it hath pleased God to reveal.
Woe be to us, if while we labor with one hand to
establish the foundations of religion, we endeavor
to subvert them with the other I Far from us be
those modern Kaninis, who, under pretence of
making us consider the deity as covered with holy
darkness, would persuade us that he is an incon^
sistent being, and that the religion he addresseth to
us shocks reason, and is incompatible wrth itself.
But whence is it, pray, that amidst all the obscu-
rities that surround us, God hath, placed practical
duties in a light so remarkably clear ? Wbence is
it that doctrines most clearly revealed are however
so expressed as to furnish difficulties, if not sub-
stantial and real, yet likely and apparent: and
that the practical part is so clearly revealed, that
it is not liable to any objections which have any
shew or color of argument i My brethren, either
we must deny the wisdom of the: Creator, or we
must infer this consequence, that what is most ne-
cessary to be ' known, what will be most fatal to
man to neglect, what we ought most inviolably to
preserve in practical religion.

Let us apply this general- reflection to the deep
decrees of God. . If tjie foundation of God stands
surc^ yon can have no true joy or solid content,
till you have each of you decided this great ques«

VpLs V. 2 R

314 THE PE£P THINGS OF COP.

tion ; am I one of the vessels of mercy decreed
unto glory? Or am I one of the vessels of wrath
[fitting to destruction ? But how can I satisfy my-
self on this question at the same time so obscure
and so important ? The decree is impenetrable.
The book of life is sealed. We have told you a
thousand times, that there is no other way than by
examining whether you bear the marks of elec-
tion, and your whole vocation is to endeavor to
acquire them. These characters, you know, are
patience, gentleness, charity, humility, detachment
from the world, and all other christian virtues. It
belongs to you to exercise them. A little less spe-
culation and more practice. Let us become less
curious, and try to be more holy. Let us leave God
to arrange his own decrees, and for our parts let
us arrange our actions, -and regulate our lives. Do
not say, if I be predestinated to salvation, I shall
be saved without endeavoring. You would be
wicked to make this objection, for although you are
persuaded that your days are numbered, yet you
do not omit to eat, and drink, and take care of
your health. In this manner you should act in re-
gard to your salvation.

And we, ministers of Jesus Christ, what is our
duty ? Why are we sent to this people ? Is it to
fathom the decrees of predestination and reproba-
tion ? As the spirit of God hath revealed these
mysteries, it is right to treat of them in the course
of our ministry, and we should think more highly
of ourselves than we ought to thinky were we to
suppress tliis part of religion. But after all, must
Ave stop here ? Must this be the principal subject
of our sermons ? God forbid we should so ill un-
derstand the end of our ministry ! I would as wil-
lingly see a physician, when he is consulted in a
dangerous illness, employ himself in discoursing on

THE D££P THINGS OF GOD. 315

the term of human life, haranguing his patient,
telling him that his days are numbered, and that
a hair of his head could not fall without the will
of God. Unseasonable orator, leave talking, and
go to work ; consult the symptoms of my illness,
call art and nature to my assistance ; leave God
to execute his own decrees, prescribe the remedies
I must take, and the regimen I must follow, en-
deavor to strengthen this tottering body, and to
retain my breath just ready to evaporate. Let us
apply this image. Let us think of the account
we must give to the master who sent us. Let us
take care that he doth not say to us in the great
day of judgment, get ye behind me ye refractory
servants ! I sent you to make the church holy, and
not render it disputations, to confirm my elect, and
not to engage them in attempts to penetrate the
mysteries of election, to announce my law5, and
not to fathom my decrees.

But, not to confine ourselves to these general
remarks, let us observe, that obscurity in regard
to God, affords powerful arguments against the
rash divine, the indiscreet zealot, the timorous
christian, and the worldly man attached to sensible
objects.

This subject addresseth itself to you, rash divine,
you who perplex your mind by trying to compre-
hend incomprehensible truths, to you whose au-
dacious disposition obliges you to run into one of
these two extremes, either to embrace error or to
render truth doubtful by the manner of explaining
it. For understand, my brethren, the man wlio
rejects a truth because he cannot comprehend it,
and he who would fully comprehend it before he
receives it, both sin fi'om the same principle, nei-
ther understands the limits of the human miod.
These two extremes are alike dangerous. Ger-

316 THE DEEP THIKGS OF GOD.

thinly, on the one hand, we must be very rash, we
must entertain very diipinutive ideas of an infinite
God, we must be very little versed in science, to
admit only principles which have no difficulty, and
to regard the depth of a subject as a character of
falsehood. What ! A miserable creature, an ig-
norant creature, a creature that doth not know
itself, would know the decrees of God, and reject
them if they be unfathomable ! But, on the other
hand, we must have very narrow views, we must
have a very weak mind, we must know very little
of the designs of Grod, not to feel any difficulty,
to find every thing clear, not to suspend our judgo
ment upon any thing, to pretend not only to per-?
ceive the truth of a mystery, but to go to the bot-?
tom of it. Insignificant man ! Feel thy diminu-
tiveness. Cover thyself with dust, and learn of the
greatest of divines to stop where you ought to stop,
and to cry on the brink of the ocean, O the depth !

The deep things of God ought to confound the
indiscreet zealot, who decries and reviles all opinions
different from his own, though on matters in them-^
selves dark and obscure. Here we pour our tears
ipto the bosoms of our brethren of Augsburgh,
some of whose teachers describe us in the mos£
odious cdors, dip their pen in gall when they write
against us, tax us with making of the deity a God
cruel and barbarous, a God who is the author of
sin, and who by his decrees countenances the de-
pravity and immorality of mankind. You see,
whether this be our doctrine. You see wa join our
voices with those of Seraphims, and make our as-
semblies resound with Holyy holi/y holy is the Lord
qf Hosts. You see, we exhort our people to en-
ter ir^ at the strait gatCy and to uwrk out their
falvation with fear and trembling. But, say you^
do not the consequences we impute to you follow

THE DEEP THIKGS OF GOD* 317

from your principles ? To grantfor a moment that
they do follow, is it not sufficient that we disown
and condemn them? Doth not such an answeft
fipom you concerning another doctrine satisfy us ?
Accuse us of being bad reasoners, but do not ac-
cuse us of being wicked men. Accuse us of reason-
ing inconclusively, but do not accuse us of exer-
cising a faithless ministry. But, say you, you have ^
divines among you, who poison controversy, who
refute with bitterness, who excommunicate such as
are not of their sentiments on predestination, and
who, had they power equal to their will, would es*
tablish every opmion with fire and blood. Have
we such divines ? Ah ! may God delivier us from
them ! They follow their own spirit, and not the
spirit of our churches. Our churches never sepa-
rate any person from their communion for not be-
lieving predestination. You know this by expe-
rience. : Do we not open our arms to you ? Do
we not receive you into our communion ? Have
we not a sincere ^nd ardent desire to be in union
with you ? O that God would hear our prayers I-
Spouse of Jesus Christ ! O that (rod would put an
end to the intestine war that tear thee assunder !
Children of the reformation ! O that you had but
the wisdom to unite all your efforts, against the
Peal enemy of the reformation and the reformed !
This is our wish, and these shall incessantly be our
prayers.

The depth of the ways of God may serve to
reprove the timid and revolting christian ; a cha^
racter too common among us. Our faith forsakes*
us in our necessities; we lose the sure anchor of
hope in a storm ; we usually dash against rocks of
adversity; we are confounded when we see those
projects vanish, on the ^success of which we rested
jwr happiness, and the prosperity of the churchy

SIS THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

My brethren, let us be more firm in our princi-
ples. Christian prudence indeed will oblige us to
put our hand to every good work. We must be
vigilant, assiduous, exact in our own affairs. In
like manner in public dangers, we must assemble
wise men, raise armies, and every one must en-
deavor to do what is in his power, and carry a stone
toward the building of the temple : but when our
designs fail, let us be steady, immoveable, un-
changeable. Let us remember that we are only
little children in comparison with the intelligence
at the helm of the world : that God often allows
us to use just and rational means, and at length
frustrates all our designs, in order to deliver us by
unexpected methods, and to save us with more
conspicuous power and glory.

When I am to penetrate this truth, 1 fix my
eyes on the great enemy of religion. I see him
at first equally, yea, surpassing the most superb
potentates, risen to a point of elevation astonishing
to the whole world. His family numerous, his ar-
mies victorious, his territories extended far and
wide at home and abroad. I see places con-
quered, battles won, and every blow aimed at his
throne serving only to establish it. I see a servile
idolatrous court elevating him above men, above
heroes, and likening him to God himself. I see all
parts of the world overwhelmed with his troops,
your frontiers threatened, religion trembling, and
the protestant world at the brink of ruin. At the
sight of this tempest, I expect every moment to
see the church expire, and I exclaim, O thou little
boat, driven with the wind, and battered in the
storm ! Are the waves going to swallow thee up ?
O church of Jesus Christ ! against which the gates
of hell were never to prevaily are all thy hopes
come to this ! Behold Almighty God makes bare

THE DEEP THINGS OF GOD. ^ 319

his holy arm, discovers himself amidst all this chaos,
:and overwhelms us with miracles of love, after hav-
ing humbled us by the darkness of his providence.
Behold ! in two campaigns more than an hundred
thousand enemies are either buried in the waves,
or killed by our troops,' or trodden to death by our
horse, or taken prisoners. Behold ! whole provinces
yield to our arms. Behold ! our noble army covered
with more laurels thSln we had ever seen before.
Behold the fatal power, that was just now exalted
to heaven^ shaking, falling, and about to be cast
down to hell. My brethren, let these events make
us wise. Let us not judge of the conduct of God
by our own ideas, but let us learn to respect the
depths of his providence.

But what ! Shall we always live in shades and
darkness ! Will there always be a veil between the
porch and the sanctuary ? Will God always lead us
among chasms and gulfs ? Ah ! my brethren, these
are precisely the ejaculations, these are the desires,
with which we would inspire you ; and this we af-
firm, that the deep things of God expose the folly
of a worldly man, who immoderately loves the pre-
sent life. Presently this night, this dark night,
shall be at an end ; presently we shall enter into
that temple, where there is no need of the sun,
because the Lamb is the light thereof. Rev. xxi.
23. Presently we shall arrive at that blessed pe-
riod, when that which is in part shall be done
away. In heaven we shall know all things. In
heaven we shall understand nature, providence,
grace, and glory. In heaven Jesus Christ will
solve all our difficulties and objections. In heaven
we shall see God face to face. O how will this
knowledge fill us with joy ! O how delightful will
it be to derive knowledge and truth from their
source ! My soul, quit thy dust ! Anticipate these

320 TH£ DEEP THINGS OF GOD.

periods of felicity, and si^ with Moses, Lard shew
me thy glory ! O Lord, dissipate the clouds and
darkness that are around thy throne ! O Lord^
shorten the time that separates us ! . . . No man
can see my face and live. Well ! let us die then.
Let us die to become immortal. Let us die to
know God. Let us die to be made partakers of
the divine nature. Happy to form such elevated
wishes! Happier still to see them accomplished.
Amen.

/

T^^^ « '^T^^ »«X33C3l^3i»^^^^^^^^^^?

SERMOJSrXU.

THE SENTENCE PASSED UPON JUDAS BY

JESUS CHRIST.

Matthew xxvi. 2A>

* , »

Tie son of nuM goitb as it is writUn of Urn : tut wo uato thiU
nusuf by whom the son of man is betrayed: it bad besn good
for that man if be bad not been bom.

THIS verse is part of a period bej^mnrag at the
seventeenth, and ending with the twenty-fiftli
verse, in which the evangeHst narrates two events,
the last passover of Jesus Christ, and the treason
of Judas. One of my colleagues Vill explahi the
other parts of this passage of sacked history, and
I shall confine myself to this sentence of oiirlSaviour
agaiiist Judds, It had been good for that man if
he had not been born. ^ '

This oriicle is most unequivocal. It conveys a me-
lancholy idea of the condition of the unhappy cri-
minal. It should seem, Jesus Christ enveloped in
qualified terms a truth the most dreisidfiil' imma-
ginable. ' These words. It had been good for that^
many if he had not been bom, are equTvaleht'to^
these, Judas is forever excluded from^ the happiheasJ
of heaven; Judas is forever condemned to thepu-^
nishment of hell. It is the same truth which the

VOT,. V. 5! s '

3^22 THE S£NT£Kefi PASS£D UFON

apostles expressed, after the example of their mas-
tei? in miiitei* terms. Thou Lord^ which krfo&ftst
the hearts of all men^ shew whether thou hast cho^
sen Justus or Matthias, that he may take the part
of this apostleship, from which Judas by tranf^
gression Jell, that he might go to his own place.
Acts i. 24. 28. What is this place ? The answer
is easy^ though some ancient heretics affirmed ex-
travagant things about it. It is the place reserved
for those, against whom the door of mercy is shut ;
it is the place reserved for those wha must forever
serve for victims to divine justice.

If you recall to mind all the most guilty per-
sonSj and those whose condition is the most des-
perate^ you will not find one, of whom that can be
said without rashness, which is here affirmed of
Judas. Judas is the only person, literally the
only person, whom we are aUowed with certainty
to declare is in the torments of hell. Certainly,
we cannot help forming lamentable ideas of the
condition of some sinners, who died in perpetrat-
ing their crimes ; as of some who were less men
than monsters of humanity, and who died in blas-
pheming God, and attacking religion and moral-
ity, as Pharaoh, Belshazzar, Julian, and others :
but after all it is not for us to set limits to the
mercy of God. The holy Spirit hath ways un-
known to us to convert the hearts of men. Judas
is the only one without exception, of whom I dare
venture to affirm, he is irrecoverably lost. And
when I form this judgment of his destiny, I do
not ground it merely on his betraying J^sus Christ ;
for it is not impossible,.that after he had committed
that crime, he might have obtained forgiveness by
repentance. I do not ground it on the manner of
his death, for he was distracted, and madness is
sometimes caused by trouble, and in such a ca^e

/ •

JUDAS BY JESUS CHRIST. S23

reason hath no share, and divine justice doth not
impute sin to a man deprived of his senses. I
ground my judgment of the punishment of Judas
on the words of my text. It had been good for
that man, if he had not been born ; words never
denounced by the spirit of God against any other
wretch that ever was« Thus the object which I
exhibit to your view today, is not only a par-
ticular object, but it is even an unique^ ^ sole, a
single object.

But perhaps because it is a singular case, you
think it does not regard you, and that you need
not make any inferences concerning your own
eternal destiny from it. And does not this ob-
ject regard you ! Alas! my brethren, I dare not . . .
but however bearme; condescend to accompany
me in this mortifying, and (I must tell you, how
improper soever it may seem to conciliate your at-
tention) deign to accompany us in this alarming
meditation. Come and examine what a melan-
choly likeness there is between the features of some
of our hearers and those of the miserable Judas«
How like are their dispositions! How sad soever
the examination may be^ there is at least one com-
fortable consideration, at least one difference be-
tween them and this traitor, that is, Jesus Christ
faath pronounced the decree of his condemnation,
whereas be. hath not yet pronounced the ^sentence
on my hearers; the door c^ niercy is yet open to
them, the time of their visitation is not yet quite
expired. O that they would avail themselves of
the few inestimable moments that remain ! O tliat
they would throw tbemsdves at the feet of that
Jesus, whom tiiey have so often betrayed ! O that
they may be washtdin ti^t'blood, which they have
so unworthily tradden under foot I God Almighty
jgrant, foijp bis great mercy's Bake/: thkt i^is may be

S24 THE .bJkNT£NC& FAHShD UI-OK

the ejQTect of this discourse ! Graat, O God^ that
such of us as are best established in piety, may he
filled with holy fear, by seeing to what excess self
interest may be carried! O Lordy incline my
heart unto thy testimonies^ and not unto covetous^
ness. Amen.

It had been good for that man, if he had not
been born, or what is the same thing in this plaoej
if he had never existed, and were not to exist- any
longer. Let us first explain the meaning of Jesus
Christ by a few reflections, and justify the idea I
have given yoq of the words.

1. Existence is the foundation of happiness and
misery.. Nothing hath no properties. Not to ex-
ist is to be neither hs^y nor miserable. To exist
is to be capable of one or the other, or both toge*
ther. Existence considered in itself is indifferent
to the being existing ; it is the happiness or the
misery with which it is accompanied, which deter-
mines the value of it. If it were possible for a man
to exist without beipg either happy or miserable,
his existence would be in some sort useless and in>
different, and it would be true in regard to him,
that it would be neither good nor evil to him to be
born, or not to be born. If the existence of a man
be accompanied with equal degrees of happiness
and misery, we must form the same judgment ;
misery is compensated by happiness, and happiness
by misery ; the balance is equal, and preponderates
^leither way. If there be more happiness than mi-
sery in bis existence, it is true in regard to hioi,
that it is better for him to be than not to be : on

the contrary, if migery exceed happiness finish

this propqsi|ijon yourselves, and apply it to tlie
;iiubject in band. ^ It had been goo 4 for Judas, if
Jke had not been born. So Jesus Christ declares.
The existence pf Judas then must h^ attended

JUDAS BY J£SUS CHRIST. 3S5

witb more misery than happiness. This is our
^st reflection.

2. To judge whether a man be happy or mise*
rable^ whether it be better for him to exist or not
to exi;st^ we must) not consider him in regard to a
few moments, but in the whole of his existence :
we must examine whether, all things considered^
good be greater than evil, or evil greater than
good. The good and ills of past life generally leave
no impression on our minds, they contribute only
to our present happiness or misery, and there re-
mains nothing but a remembrance of them. If
you judge of the happiness or misery of man by his
actual condition, you. will say in each moment of
his happiness, it is better for him to be than not
to be ; and during every moment of his misery,
you will say it is better for him not to exist than to
exist. But, as I said before, it is not in regard to
a single instant that a man ought to be considered,
to determine whether he be happy or miserable ^
it is in the whole of his existence.

I make this reflection to prevent your supposing
that when Jesus Christ said. It had been good for
JudaSy if he had not been bom^ he meant Judas
should be annihilated. Had Judas been annihi-
lated after death, it must be said, according to our
first proposition, (hat Judas after death would not
be either happy or miserable ; that it would not
have been either good or evil for him to be born,
or not to be born. In this case, to form a just
idea of the value of the existence of Judas, it would
be necessary to compare the misery of his end
with the happiness of his life, and as we have no
reason to think he had been more miserable than
happy in his life ;. as we have reason to presume, on
the contrary, that having been in a middling sta$e
of life, he had enjoyed the gifts of natnre with

326 THE S£NTENC£ PASSED UPON

9ome kind of traDquillity, it could not be affirmed,
strictly speaking, that because he died a violent
deaths it had been good for him^ \f he had not been
bom. The death of Judas, separated from its con-
sequences, was not more miserable than that of a
man who dies jn his bed after lying ill scmie
days ; and we cannot affirm of a man, who after
enjoying a tranquil life, dies by an illness of some
days, that it had been good for that man, if he
had not been born, so neither can we affirm of Ju-
das, if he had been annihilated after death. When
Jesus Christ says, it had been good for thai man,
if he had not been born, he supposes he wouldsub-
sist after death. He compares the condition he
would be in after death with all the good he had
enjoyed, and would enjoy during life; and by thus
forming his judgment on the whole of his existence^
he determines that' the existence of this traitor
would be accompanied with more evil than good,
and he pronounces, it would have been good for
that man, if he had not bien born, that is tosay>
if he never had existed, and if he never were to exist
any longer. Tliis is our second reflection.

3. Whatever misfortunes attend the present life,
there are few men, who all things considered, wquM
not rather choose to live forever as we live in this
world, than to be annihilated after living a few
years. I do not inquire whether their choice be
good ; I only say it is their choice, the fact is in-
contestable. If few men be of the mind of Mecae-
nas, who said, ** Let me suffer, let me be despised
and miserable, yet I would rather exist than not
exist ;" if there be, I say, few men of the opinion
of this favorite of Augustus, there are few also
who adopt the sentiment of the wise man, or shall
I say of the fool ? (for there is some reason to doubt
whether it be the language of Solomon or the fool

JUDAS BY JESUS CI»I$T. S27

introduced in the book) I praised the dead which
are already dead, more than the living (vhich are
yet alive: yea, better is he than both /hey, zvhich
hath not yet been, Eccles. iv. 2, S. To consider
things as they usually are^ whatever mi^ortunes
attend life^ mankind prefer life before annihilation.
Whether their taste be good or bad, we do not in-
quire now. We speak of a fact, and the fact is in-
disputable. Jesus Christ speaks to men ; he sup-
poses their ideas to be what they are, and he speaks
according to these ideas. When He says, it had
been good/or Judas, if he hadnot been born, he means
that his misery would be greater after d^ath than
it had been during his life ; for how disgusting so-
ever life may be, mankind prefer it before annihi-
lation ; and if Judas had no other punishment to
puffer for his perfidy than such as belonged to the
present state, Jesus Christ would not have said, it
had been good for that man, if he had not been
born. He intended we should understand that
Judas would be more riliserable in a future eco-
nomy, than we are in this life, in spite of the ma-
ladies to which our frailty exposes us, in spite of
the vicissitudes we experience, and in spite of the
sacrifices which we are daily required to make.

4. If, as we said at first, the sentence of Jesus
Christ against Judas be expressed in mild terms,
we must> in order fully to comprehend the sense,
lay aside the soft language, and advert to the ter-
rible subject. But can we without rashness change
the terms of a sentence, which the Saviour pro-
nounced, and give the whole of 'what he spoke only
in part ? Yes, provided the part we add be taken
not from our own systems, bat from that of Jesus
Christ, who only can fill up the space, which suf-
ficient reasons induced him to leave vacant when
he gave out this sentence* Now we find two

328 THE S£KT£NCE PASSED tTPON

things id the system of Jesus Christ on this sub-
ject. First, that the misery denounced against
Judas is of the most dreadful kind, and secondly,
that Jesus Christ denounces a£;ainst him the great-
est degree of misery of this kind ; or to* express
myself more clearly, my first proposition is, that
every place in hell is intolerable. My second pro-
position is, that Jesus Christ doomed Judas to the
most intolerable place in hell.

Doth our first proposition need proving ? I lay
aside what the scripture tells us of the lake, the
bottomless pit, the brimstone^ the smoke, the dhrk-
ness, the chains of darkness, the worm that never
dies, and the fire thai is never quenched. Fright-
ful objects ! I have no need to recollect you to ^rm
gloomy images of the state of the damned. My
idea of heaven is sujficient to give me a horrible
image of hell. Pleasures at GocCs right hand for
evermore ; joy of an intelligent creature finding
his "knowledge for ever op the increase ; calm of
a conscience washed in the blood of the Lamb ;
freedom from all the maladies that afBict poor mor-
tals, from all the inquietudes of doubt, and from
all the turbulence of passions ; society of angels,
archangels, cherubims, and all that multitude of
intelligences, which God hath associated both in
rectitude and glory; close communion with the
happy God ; felicity of heaven ; it is you that
make me conceive the horrible state of hell ! To
be forever deprived of your charms -, this alone is
enough to make moi tremble at the idea of hell.

But if every place in hell be intolerable, some
are more so than others. When, by following the
genius of the gospel, you examine for whom di-
vine justice reserves the most dreadful punishments,
you easily conceive it is for such men as Judas,
and you will agree (without our staying now to

JUDAS BY JESUS CfiRlST. $2Q

prove it) that as Jesus Christ denounc^ the worst
kind of punishment against him, so he doomed
him to suffer the greatest degree of that kind of
punishment.

In fine, our last remark on the words of Jesu^
Christ, is, that when he said, it had been good
for that man, if he had not been born, or had he
never existed, he supposed not only that the pun-
ishment of Judas did not exist in annihilation,
but that it would not be in his power not to exist.
He supposed that Judas was not master of bis own
existence, and that it did not depend on him to
continue or put an end to it as he should think
proper. Existence considered in itself is indiffer-
eot. We have explained in what sense, and we
have proved that it is the happiness or misery
which attends it, that determines the worth of it.
Now, whatever the pain of hell may be, it need
not alarm us, if the Creator when he caused us to
exist gave us the power of remaining in it, or quit-
ting it. In this case it would always depend on
us to get rid of punishment, because it would de-
pend on us to cease to exist, and we might enter
into that state of annihilation, which we said was
neither happy nor miserable : but we have not tbi^
power over ourselves. As an act of omnipotence
was necessary to give us existence, so it is to de-
prive us of it ; and as it belongs to none but Al-
mighty God to perform the first of these acts, so
it belongs only to him to effect the second i so ab-
solute, so entire is our dependence upon him !

I do not know what is intended by the star
mentioned in the ninth chapter of Revelation.
St. John represents it as falling from heaven unto
the earth, as having the key of the bottomless pit,
as causing a smoke to arise, by which the sun and
the air were darkened, and out of which came

VOL. V. ^ T

330 THE S£KT£KC£ PASSED UFOK

locusts Upon the earth. But I am persufKled^ that
m a system of irreligion, nothiog can be imagined
more dreadful than the miseries, which the holy
Spirit here saith these infernal locusts inflict upon
mankind. These were commanded not to kiU^
but to torment Jive months such men as had not
the seal of God in their foreheads. And in those
days shall men seek death, and shall not find it,,
and shall desire to die, and death shall ^ee from,
them. It is a miserable rdiief, I grant, to destroy
onesW^f to avoid divine punishment. But doth
fl^ath put an eind.to our existence? Is a sinner
less in the han4. of God in th^ grave, than he is
duriqg this life? Ijl^hither.shcdl I go from thy
^J^ii^ Or whitf^r shall I ^fiee from thy pre-
sence ? PsaL cxxxix. ?•

Wjiat misery in tb^ eyes of an irreligious m^n
to b? tpriaented tjkcqugh life, and to be deprived
9f a relief which the wretched almost always have
in vi^w, I mean de^th ! For how many ways are
there of getting r^d of life ? And to wliat degree
of impotence must be be reduced who is not able
by any means to put an end to life^ hi those
days sliall men seek death, and shall not find it^
and shall desire to die, and death shall fee from
them.

But if the greatest misery in the account of au
irreligious man be not to have the power of get-
ting rid of the troubles of a few years, by destroy-
ing himself, what will be the state of the damned
to see themselves nnder a fatal necessity of exist-
ing for ever, and of not having the power of ter-
m.i^ting their existence, and of sinking into no-
thing? What despairing and cruel complaints
will this necessity of existing cause ? In vain will
tliey seek refuge in dens and chasms of the earth I
In vain will they implore monnlains and rocks to

JUI>A5 BY JESUS CHRIST. 331

fall onthem^ and hide them! In vain will they
airse ike datfy and execrate th^ night - of tkeir
birth ! They will be obliged to exist, bec£iti8e Al-
mighty God will refuse ttiem that act of omiaipo-
tence, without which they cannot be annihilated. '

Such will be the misery of the dimnned, and such
is the extreme misery to which Jesus Christ ad-
judges Judas. But this man^ you will say^ had a
dark perfidious soul, he was a traitor, he had the
infamy to betray his Saviour, and to sell him for
thirty pieces of silver ; this man was such a inoh^
ster as nature hardly produces in many centuries.
My brethren, I am come now to the njost odious^
but most necessary part of my discourse. J must
enter on the mortifying task of examining whether
there be any resemblance between sorne of this as-
sembly and the unl^ippy Judas. What a task to
perform in such an auditory as this! What a
gospel to preach to christians ! What murmurs are
we going to excite in this assembly ! The tvord
of the Loi^d was made a reproach unto me, and
a derision d^ily. Then, I said, I will not fn^ke
menlidn of him, nor speak any more in his name.
But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire
shut up in my bones, and I was zoeary with for-
bearing, dnd I could not stay, Jer. xx. 8, 9.

Do not think that I intend to conclude my dis-
course by Abusing the liberty given me of .speak-
ing in this pulpit, by attempting to m^ke an in-
genious essay on a subject the most grav^ and so-
lemn ; be not afraid of my extenuating the crimes
of Judas, and exaggerating yours. How is it pos-
sible to extenuate the crimes of Judas ? When I
represent to myself a man, whom the Saviobr dis-
tinguished in a manner so remarkable, a man who
travelled with him, a man to whom he not only
revealed the mysteries of his kingdom, but whom

332 THE S£KT£Mte PASSED UPOK

he associated with himself to teach them to the
worlds to subvert the empire of satan, and set bis
captives free, and to preach this gospel. Lay not
up for yourselves treasures upon earthy but lay
up for yourselves treasures in heaven^ for where
your treasure is there will your heart be also.
Sell that you have, and give alms, provide your-
selves bags that wax not old, a treasure in the
heavens that faileth not. Matt. vi. 19, &c. Luke .
xii. 93. When I consider this, man freely open-
ing his heart to the demon of avarice, parleying
with the most obstinate enemies of his divine mas-
ter, proposing to deliver him up to their barbarity,
agreeing on the price of treason, executing the
horrible stipulation, coming at the head of the most
vile and infamous mob that ever was, giving the
fatal signal to his unworthy companions, kissing
Jesus Christ, ^nd saying while he saluted him,
hail masters when I consider this abominable man,
far from attempting to extenuate his crime, I can
find no colors dismal enough to describe it. No :
I tremble at the bare idea of this monster, and
involuntarily exclaim, O execrable love of money !
To what will thou riot impel the hearts of men !

But does this odious picture resemble none but
Judas ? Ah ! when I imagine a christian born in
this age of knowledge, a christian with the gospel
in his hand, convinced of the truth and beauty of
religion, a christian, communicant at the table of
Jesus Christ, who hath vowed a hundred times
an eternal obedience to God, and hath tasted Jthe
good word of God, and the powers of the world
to come : when I consider this christian full of con-
trivances, intriguing in certain circles, exposing
to the world a spectacle of immodesty, resisting
the ministry, exclaiming against such religious dis-
pQUrses as bis depravity forbids him to obey -, or.

JUDAS BY JEStrS CHRIST, 338

to confine myself to the disposition of Judas, when
I observe this christian like Judas, possessed with
the demon of avarice, hardening his heart against
the cries of the wretched, pillaging the widow and
the fatherless of their daily bread,^ selling his own
soul and the souls of his children, rather than break
through a papal interdict, rather than quit ^ coun-
try where truth is hated and persecuted, where
there is no public worship during life, no consola-
tions at the hour of death. When I consider such
christians, I protest I almost pity Judas, and turn
all my indignation against them.

My brethren, I said, and I repeat it again^ the
task is mortifying, the matter is offensive^ but I
must come to it : if 1 seek to please men^ I shall
not be the servant of Christ. Let us lay aside
vague ideas, and let us enter on some detail. Let
us describe Judas, but let us not forget ourselves,
too much resembling this ugly man. Let us exa-
mine, first, the passion that governed him — next,
the crime to which it impelled him- — then the cir-
cumstances in which he committed it — ^fourthly,
the pretexts with which he covered it — and finally,
the confession he was compelled to make.

1. What passion governed Judas ? Every one
knows, it was avarice. Which of us is given up
to this passion ^ Rather which of us is free from it ?

Avarice piay be considered in two different
points of light. It may be considered in those
men, or rather those public bloodsuckers, or, as
the officers of the Roman empire Vespasian were
called, those sponges of society, who infatuated
with this passion, seek after riches as the supreme
good, determine to acquire it by any methods, and
consider the ways that lead to wealth, legal or il-
legal, as the only road for them to travel. Let the
Jaws be violated, let the people be oppressed^ let ,

3S4 THE S£NT£KCE PASS£D tT|>ON

equity be subverted, let a kingdom be sactiflced td
tW& l^fesist(bIe passion for wealth, let it be act*oss
a thousand depopulated countries^ a thousand itifh-
ed fainilies, let it be over a thousand piles of mang-
led tarcases, that they arrive at fortune, provided
they can but acquire it, no matter what it costs.

This is our fiist notibn of avarice. But lit thU
pbint of liglit, who of us hath this passion ? No-
bodyj not one person, I except notie. I leave to
the searcher of hearts to determine whether it b^
the vehemence of our piety, or the impotence of
our condition, that prevents our carrying avarice
to this length ; Whether it be respect for the laws,
6r dread of thetti, that keeps us from violating
Ihem ; whether we abstain frdm oppressing man^
kind, because we love, or because we fear them -,
whether saicHficing our dountry to our love of
wealth, be prevented by our love to our country,
or by a despair/of success. Yes, I leave the de-
cision of this questioh to the searchfer of hearts. I
would as far as I can, without betraying my mi-
nistry, form the most favorable judgment of my
hearei-s ; therefore I affirm not one of us is ava-
ricious in this first sense.

Avarice, however, must be considered in a se-
cond point of light. It not only consists in cotti-
mitting bold crimes, but in entertaining mean
ideas, and practising low methods, incompatible
with such magnanimity as our condition ought to
inspire. It consists not only in an intire renun-
ciation of the kingdom of Gody and the righteous-
ness thereof y but in not seeking it firsts in the
manner proposed. It consists not only in always
endeavoring to increase our wealth, but in har-
boring continual fears of losing it, and perplexing
ourselves in endlfess methods of preserving it. It
consists not only in wholly withholding from the

JUDAS BY JESUS CHRIST. 335

poor^ but ia giving through restraint^ and ia al-
ways fearing to give too much. It consu3ts not
only in omittii\g to serve Go.d, but in trying t<>'
a^isociale the service of God with that of mamoion.
Which of us is free iroux avarioe considered in this
second point of light ? Strictly speakmg^ nobpi^^
no not one person.

$1. Bijit what right have we to pjrpiuoiuice th^
no one is defied with avarice considered in tl^ Gx^%
point of light ? Let us consider this pas^Qn in re-
gard tp the odious crin;i,es which it impels us. to
commit. X^t us review the articles just now men-*
tjonfid* Are we guilty -qf only trying to associate
Qod ^d mwuuou ? And do we never l^y ^siide the
smic^. of God wlipUy when it clashes with tl]^ ^
WajEP^Ur ? Are we guilty of nothing more tb^n
giving tljirQugh restraint ? Do we not ofteu avoid
giviflg.»t,.^U? Do we not always omit charity
M^heu w« C9u do so without being branded with in-
£3uny ? Are w^ to blame only for fearing to lose our
weall^? Are we not also, always occupied about in*
creasing it> so that this desire follows us every
where, through all the tumults of the day, and all
the silence of the night, into every company^ into
private prayer and public devotion i Are we guilty
of only not seeking first the kiJigdom of ^od ?
Are we not also ready to renounce it> wi^n we
cannot enter it without losing some of our wealth ?
Ar? we guilty of violating only the laws ojf charity,
do we not also violate those of equity ? By what
unheard of secret then have some of us so rapidly
acquired large fortunes ? What sudden revolution
then hath so quickly changed the appearance of
some families ? What remarkable .providence then
hath made such an extreme difference between
your ancestry and your posterity ? What motive
then retains i^o many of our protestant brethren

336 THE S£NT£NC£ PASSED UPON

in their native country^ and why are there in thid
assembly so many dismembered families ? Why ar6
not children with their parents, and parents with
their children, in this free country, both content
to have their lives for a prey ? Ah ! my brethren,
what a scandalous history is that of Judas ! What
a horrible crime did his avarice impel him to com-
mit ! And also what a sad resemblance is there be-
tween that wretch and some christians, who pro-
fess to abhor him !

3. As the avarice of Judas appears odious con-
sidered in Itself, and more so considered in regard
to the crime he committed through it, so it wilt ap-
pear more offensive still, if you consider it in view
of the circumstances in which he was when he gave
himself up to it : for how far soever the wickedest
of men be from the practice of some virtues, there
are occasions on which they seem to turn their at»
tention to them. The most barbarous souls can-
not help relenting, when they see the objects of
their hatred reduced to extreme misery. Hearts
the most lukewarm towards religion, feel I know
not what emotions of piety, when religion is ex-
hibited in some eminent points of light, and when
the love of God to his creatures, and his compas-
sion for sinners, are described in lively colors.

On this principle, what opinion must we form of
Judas ? What a time did he choose to betray his
master to his enemies, and to give himself up to
satan .^ Jesus Christ was eating the passover with
his disciples, and telling them, with desire I have
desired to eat this passover with you before l suf-
fer. Jesus Christ was taking leave of his disciples
at a love feast, and going as soon as the company
broke up, to substantiate the shadow exhibited in
the paschal supper, by offering himself in their
stead a sacrifice for sin. Judas partook of this

JUDAS BY JESUS CHRIST.- 337

paschal lamb^ and sat at the table with Jesus Christ
at this feast of love ; yet in these circumstances so
proper to eradicate avarice, at least to suspend the
growth of it, it became more vigorous, and ripened
in his unworthy soul.

My brethren, when we judge our own hearts^
let us keep this principle in view. A passion hate*
ful in itself, and hateful on account of the crimes it
makes us commit, may become more so by circum-
stances. What is an innocent freedom in some
circumstances, may become licentiousness in other
circumstances, and as circumstances alt^r, what is
licentious may beconie a great crime ; and thus an
innocent freedom, at most an act of licentiousness,
at most a crime, may become an atrocious outrage,
and unpardonable on account of circumstances in
which . it was committed. This maxim is self-evi* ^
dent, it is an axiom of morality.

O God, judge of the whole earth, do not pass
sentence on this assembly according to the rigor of
this maxim ! This is passion week, and we are in
circumstances, in which Jesus Christ most power-
fully attacks our vices. You need not be a saint
to have emotions of piety in these circumstances ;
it is sufficient to be a man: but you must be a
monster, a disciple of Judas, to have none. To
hate in these circumstances, to hate when Jesus
Christ loves, and while he is saying of his execu-*
tioners, father, forgive thenii for they know not
what they do. To shut our hearts against the cries
of our wretched fellow creatures, while Jesus Clirist
is pouring out his blood, his life, his ^ouU for poor
mortals ; to give ourselves up to worldly pleasure,
while nothing is treated of among us but the suffer-
ings of Jesus Christ, while he is represented as
sweating great drops of blood, contending with di-
vine justice, fastening to a cross, and uttering these

VOL. V. 2 u

338 THE S£NT£NC£ PASS£]> UFON

lamentable complaints, mjf soul is exceeding sor-
rowfulj very heavy ^ sorrowful even tmto death.
O my Father y if it he possible, let this cup pass
from me ! My God, my God, why hast thou for^
saken me ? At such a time, and in such circum-
stances, to pursue wordly pleasures : — ^My

brethren, finish this article yourselves, and- pro-
nounce your own sentences.

4. Consider the pretexts, with which Judas co-
vered his avarice. One of the principal causes of
our indignation at irregularities of our neighbors,
and our indulgence for our own, is, that we see the
first without the colorings^ which they who com-
mit them make use of to conceal their turpitude
from themselves, whereas we always consider our
own through such mediums as decorate and disguise
them. Now, as we palliate our own passions, we
ought to believe that other people palliate theirs. "

who can imagine that Judas considered his
crime in its own real horrid colors ? Can any body
suppose he said to himself, " I am determined to
violate the most solemn obligations for thirty pieces
of silver : I am resolved to betray the Saviour of
the world for thirty pieces of silver : I would rather
see him crucified than be deprived of this unworthy
price of treason : this contemptible reward I pre-
fer before all the joys of heaven ?" No, no, Juda^
did not reason thus. Judge what he did on this
occasion by what he did on another. A woman
pouned a box of costly ointment on the feet of Je-
sus Christ ', Judas was hurt to see this prey escape
his avarice : he therefore covered the sordid disposi-
tion of his soul with the goodly pretext of charity j
this ointment might have been sold for three hun-
dred pence, and given to the poor, John xii. 4,
6. Thus in the present case, *' perhaps Jesus
Christ will escape from his enemies, as he has often

JUDAS BY JESUS tHRIST. 339

done before. Perhaps his looks will deter them.
Perhaps he will fell them to the earth with his pow-
er. Perhaps the angels of heaven will surround,
protect,^ and defend him. Perhaps I myself shall
contribute to save the world, by offering the sacri-
fice that is, to procure salvation. Perhaps, too, I
may have formed ideas too high of this Jesus.
Perhaps God doth not interest himself in his preserv-
ation, as I have hitherto supposed. Perhaps he
hath assumed a character which doth not belong to
him, and is nothing but a phantom of a Messiah.
(Who can tell what extravagant reasonings may
be formed by a mind given up to a passion,^ and
determined to justify it ?) After all, should I add
one more crime to what I have already committed,
the number will not be so very great. The blood
I am going to assist in shedding, will obtain my
pardon for contributing to shed it. And I cannot
persuade myself that a Saviour, who came into the
world on purpose M publish a general pardon to all
sinners, will choose to make an exception against
me, me alone !"

Brethren, is this source of sophistry closed in re-
gard to you ? If I may venture to speak so, did
the logic of your passions expire when Judas died?
Which of us is not, so to speak, two different, yea,
opposite men, according to the agitation of our
spirits, and the dominion of our passions ? Let
any one of us be consulted concerning a crime,
which we have no interest in committing or pal-
liating, and we shall talk of nothing but equity,
rectitude, and religion : but let us be questioned
concerning the same crime, when we have some
interest in the commission of it, and behold !
another language, another morality, another re-
ligion, or to say all in jone word, behold another
man !

340 THE SENT£NC£ PASSED rPON

To come to the point, under what pretexts doth
no avarice conceal itself ? How many forms doth
it take to disguise itself from the man who is guilty
of It, and who will be drenched in the guilt of it
till the day he dies ! Sometimes it is prudence^
which requires him to provide-not only for his pre-
sent wants, but for such as he may have in future.
Sometimes it is charity, which requires him not to
give society examples of prodigality and parade.
Sometimes it is parental love, obliging him to save
something for his children. Sometimes it is cir-
cumspection, which requires him not so supply
people who make an ill use of what they get.
Sometimes it is necessity, which obliges him to re-
pel artifice by artifice. Sometimes it is good con-
science, which convinces him, good man, that he
bath already exceeded in compassion and alms
giving, arid done too much. Sometimes it is equity,
for justice requires that every one should enjoy
the fruit of his own labors, and those of his an-
cestors. Sometimes it is incompetence, perhaps
indeed a little part of my wealth may be subject to
some scruples, for who can assure himself that every
farthing of his fortune hath been acquired with the
most strict regard to evangelical rectitude; but
then I cannot tell to whom this restitution should
be made, and till that be made, justice is not sa-
tisfied, there is no room for generosity. Some-
times .... what am I about, who can make a com-
plete list of all the pretences, with which a miser
disguises himself in his own eyes, and imagines he
can disguise himself in the eyes of others !

5. Finally, let us consider the cojijession, which
the truth forced from Judas, in spite of his reigning
passion, and in the same article let us observe the
remorse inspired by his passion, and the reparation
his remorse compelled him to make. Presently I

JUDAS BY JESUS CHRIST. 341

see the unhappy Judas recover himself from his in*
fatuation. Presently he sees through the pretexts
which for a while disguised bis passion, and con-
cealed the horror of the crime he was going to com-
mit. Presently I hear him say, / have sinned in
that I have betrayed innocent bloody Matt, xxvii.
4. See, he hates the abominable thirty pieces of
silver, the charm of which allured him to copimit
the blackest crime, and to plunge himself into the
deepest woe; see, he casts down the pieces of sil-
ver at the feet of those of whom he received them..

Christians blush ! Here the comparison of Judas
with some christians, is greatly to the disadvantage
of the latter. I am aware, that the confession of
Judas was not sanctified by faith, and that the res-
titution proceeded more from despair than true re-
pentance; however he did repent: he did say, /
have sinnedy and he did restore the thirty pieces
of silver, which he had so basely acquired.

But where are the christians, who repent of the
extortions, of which their avarice hath caused them
to be guilty? Where are christians saying, J have
sinned? Particularly, where are those christians
who have made restitution ? It is said, there are
some, I believe so, because credible people aiSrm
it. But I declare solemnly, I have never seen one^
and yet I have seen many people, whose hands
were defiled with the accursed thing, whose mag-
nificence and pomp were the fruit of the cursed
thing. Extortioners of this kind I have never seen,
I have never seen one of them repenting, and say-
ing, indeed I have sinned, and thus and thus have
I done. I have never seen one, who hath not in-
vented as many pretexts to keep his ill-gotten
wealth as he had invented to get it. In one word,
I never saw one, who understood, or was willing to
^earn, the elements of christian morality on the doc-

3ii THE SENTSNCE fASSEO VFON

trine of restitution. How rare soever the conver-
sion of sinners of other kinds may be^ thanks to di-
vine mercy, we have sometimes seen edifying ex-
amples of such conversions. We have seen volup-
tuous people groan at the recollection of their for-
mer debaucheries, elSace the dissipations of their
youth, by the penitential gri^ and pious actions
of their mature age, and affix that body in a mor-
tal illness to the cross of Christ, which during health
and strength they had devoted to luxury. We
have seen assassins ready if it were possible to re-
place the blood they had shed with their own. We
have seen vindictive people embrace inveterate ene-
mies, and cover them with affectionate tears. Bqt
among that .great number of dying people, who^
we know with the utmost certainty, had become
rich by oblique means ; among the great number
of soldiers and officers, who had robbed, plundered3
and sacked; among the great number of mer-
chants and tradesmen, who had been guilty of
falsehood, deceit, cheating, and perjury, and who
by such means had acquired a splendid fortune i
among all this great number, we have nevfer seen
one, who had the resolution to assemble his family
round his dying bed, and take his leave of them in
this manner : — " My dear children, I have been a
scandal to you through life, I will not edify you by
my death. I am determined in these last mo-
ments of iny life to give glory to God, by acknow-
ledging my past transgressions. The greatest part
of my fortune was acquii^ed by artful and wicked
means. These elegant apartments are furnished
with my oaths and peijuries. This strong and well
finished house is founded on my treachery. My
sumptuous and fashionable equipage is the produce
of my extoftions. But I repent now of my sins.
I make restitution to church and state^ to the

}UBAS BY JESUS CHRIST. 343

public and individuals. I choose rather to bequeath
poverty to you, than to leave you a patrimony un-
der a curse. You will gain more by the example I
give you of repentance, than you would by all my
unjust acquisitions." An age, a whole century,
doth it furnish one such example ?

Such is the face of mankind ! Such the condi*
tion of the church ! And what dreadful discoveries
should we now make, could we look into futurity as
easily as we can imagine the present and the past I
When Jesus Christ, that good miaster, uttered this
painful prophesy to his family sitting round him,
verily I say unto yoUy one of you shall betray me,
all his disciples were exceeding sorrowful^ and every
one said unto him, Zorrf, is it I f How many suhK
jects for grief would rise to view, should God draw
aside the veil that hides the destiny of all this as-
sembly, and shew us the bottomless abyss, into
which tfie love of money will plunge many who are
present !

Let us prevent this great evil. Let us purify the
spring from whence our actions and their conse-
quences flow. Let us examine this idol, to which
we sacrifice our all. Judge of the value of riches,
in pursuit of which we are so eager, by the bre-
vity of life. The best course of moral instruction
against the passions, is death. The grave is a dis-
coverer of the absurdity of sin of every kind.
There the ambitious may learn the folly of ambi-
tion. There the vain may learn the vanity of all
human things. There the voluptuous may read a
mortifying lesson on the absurdity of sensual plea-
sure. But this school, fruitful in instructions that
concern all the passions, is profusely eloquent
against avarice. I recollect an aneqdote of Con-
stantine the Great. In order to reclaim a miser,
lie took a lance, and marked out a space of grofind

344 THE S£NT£NC£ PASSED UPON

of the size of a human body, and told him, ^' add
heap to heap, accumulate riches upon riches, ex-
tend the bounds of your possessions, conquer the
whole world, in a few days such a spot as this will
be all you will have." I take this spear, my bre-
thren, I mark out this space, among you, in a few
days, you will be worth no more than this. Go to
the tomb of the avaricious man, go down and see
his coffin and his shroud, in four days these will be
all you will have.

I conclude, and I only add one word of Jesus
Christ. Our divine Saviour describes a man revolv-
ing in his mind great projects, thinking of nothing
but pulling down and rebuilding, dying the same
night, void, destitute, miserable, and terrified at
seeing all bis fancied projects of felicity vanish ;
on which our Lord makes this reflection, so is
every onCy who layeth up treasure for himself y and
is not rich toward God^ Luke xii. 21. My God !
how poor is he, though among piles of gold and
silver, amidst all riches and plenty, who is not rich
toward God ! On the contrary, how enviable is
the condition of a man hungry, indigent, and wrap-
ped in rags, if he be rich toward God ! Rich men !
this is the only way to sanctify your riches. Be
rich toward God. Ye puor people ! this is all you
want to support you under poverty, and to enable
you to triumph even in your indigence. May we all'
be rich toward God ! Let us all accumulate a trea-
sure of good works, it is the most substantial wealthy
and that only which will yield a bountiful harvest
at last* There be many that say^ zvho will shezv us
any good ? Lord^ lift thou up the light of thy
countenajice upon us. Thou hast put gladness in
my heart, more than in the time that their corn
and their zvifie increased, Psal. iv. 6, 7. Amen.

m^mttmttkimtimKtm

SERMON XI I L

THE CAUSE OF THE DESTRUCTION OF j!tf-

PENITENT SINNERS.

H08BA xUi. Q*

Israel^ ittm hast destrcjfed thyself , but in me is thifie ht^k

THESE words are so concise in the Hebrew
text> that no distinct idea can be afihced to
them, unless we supply something* All expositors
allow this. The only question is, what word ought
to be supplied to express the prophet's meanings

Some supply, thine idols ^ or thy calves i have
destroyed thee : and by these they understand the
images, which Jeroboam placed at Samaria^ to
prevent the ten tribes who had revolted under his
direction from the government of Rehoboam* from
returning to that prince^ as probably they might
have been tempted to do, had they gone to worship
the true God at Jerusalem.

Others supply, thy king, hath destroyed thee, O
Israel, meaning Jeroboam^ who had led the people
©f Israel into idolatry.

But, not to trouble you with a list of the various
opinions of expositors, I shall content myself with
observing that, which I think best founded^ that is^

VOL. V. 2 X

Sid CAUSE OF THE D£STRVCTIOK

tbe sense given by the ancient Latin version, Tht/
destruction is of thyself , O Israel, or, thou art
the author of thine own ruin. This translation,
which supplies less to the original, is also perfectly
agreeable to the idiom of the Hebrew language.
With this the version of our churches agrees, thou
hast destroyed thyself or thou art destroyed, which
is much the same, because others cannot destroy
us 'unless we contribute by our own negligence to
our own (iteiitrtiCtldti. This transiattoti to6 is con-
nected with what precedes, and tvblit follows, and
in general with the chief design of our prophet.

This chief design is very observable in most
chapters of this prophecy. It is evident, the pro-
phet intended to convince the Israelites, that God
had discovered in all bis dispensations, a desii^ to
fix tliem in his service, lo lead them to felicity by
the path of virtue, and that they ought to blame
t)on6 but thei)[isetves, if Judgmehts fr6m l^avei^
^b(Mild overVvhelm them, giving them up to the
lAssyrians in this life, and to punishment after
death. This design seems to me most fully dis-
covered in the latter part of this chaptei*, a few
verses after the text, / will ransom them from
the power of the grave, I will redeem them from
death. O death, I zvill be thy plagues, O grave, •
I will be thy destruction. You know, my bre-
Uiren, St. Paul informs us, that this promise will
not be accomplished till after the geiteral resurrec-
4;ion. Then shall be brought to pass the saying
that is written, death is swallowed up in victory.
'O dedth, where' is thy sting ? O grave, where is
thy victory? But, adds our prophet, Samaria
shall become desolate, for she hath rebelled against
het God. The text is therefore connected with
the fo^regoing and following words according to this
translation, Q Israel,, than hast destroyed thyself.

OF IMPENITENT SINNERS. 34?

I class the text then among these passages of
scripture, in which God condescends to exonerate
hi3 conduct in regard to sinners, by declaring,
that they ought to take the whole blame of their
own destruction on themselves 5 and in this point
of view I am going to consider it. The difficulties
of this subject chiefly proceed from three causes,
either from our notion of the nature of God—
or the nature of religion — or the nature of man.
We will examine these difficulties, and endeavor
to remove them in the remaining part of thisfdis-
course.

I. O Israel^ thou hast destroyed thyself. The
first difficulties that seem to belong to this truth,
are taken from the nature of God, who, haying
created nothing of which he had not an idea be-
fore, and having realized no idea, all the conse-
cjuences of which he had not foreseen, is the au-
thor not only of every being that exists, bul also
of every thing that results from their existence, and
seems for this f ery reason the only cause of the mi-
series of his creatures.

It is much to be wished, my brethren, that man-
kind were so apprized of the narrow limits of their
own understandings, as not to plunge themselves
into some deep subjects, which they are incapable
of fathoming, and so as to attribute to their na-
tural incapacity their incompetency to answer some
objections against the perfections of God. Some
pagans have been more aware of this than many
christians ; and the Persians, followers of Moham*
med, have endeavored to make their disciples com*
prehend it by an ingenious fable.

" There were (say they) three brethren, who all
died at the same timci^ the two first were far ad-
vanced in age 3 the elder had alway3 lived in a habit

348 CAUSE OF THE PESTUVCTION

of obedience to God ; the second, on the contrary^
in a course of disobedience and sin, and the third
was an infatit incapable of distinguishing good
from evil. These three brothers appeared before
the tribunal of God, the first was received in pa-
radise, the second was condemned to h^ll, the
third was sent to a middle place, where there was
neither pleasure nor pain, because he had not
done either good or evil. When this youngest
heard his sentence, and the reason on which the
Supreme Judge grounded it, sorry to be excluded
from paradise, he exclaimed. Ah, Lord, hadst thou
preserved my life as thou didst that of my good
brother, how much better would it have been for
me? I should have lived as he did, and then I
should have enjoyed, as he does, the happiness of
eternal glory ! My child, replied God to him, I
knew thee, and I knew, hadst thou lived longer,
thou wouldst have lived like thy wicked brother,
and like him wouldst have rendered thyself deserv-
ing of the punishment of hell. The condemned
brother, hearing this discourse of God, exclaimed.
Ah, Lord, why didst thou not then confer the same
favor upon me as upon my younger brother, by de-
priving me of a life which I have so wickedly mis-
pent, as to bring m} self under a sentence of con-
demnation } I preserved thy life, said God, to
give thee an opportunity of saving thyself. The
younger brother, hearing this reply, exclaimed
again. Ah! why then, my God, didst thou not
preserve my life also, that I mi^ht have had an op-
portunity of savin? myself? God, to put an end
to complaining and dis|)uting, replied, because my
decree had determined otherways."

Were I \o follow my own inclination, I should
imitate this cautious reserve : but as silence on this
mbject is sometimes an occasion of imaginary

OF IMPENITENT SINNERS. 349

triumph to the enemies of religion, and ^s it some-
times causes scruples in weak consciences, I think
it absolutely necessary to say something toward
removing this bbjection, and to prove, at least,
that though we are incapable of fully satisfying
ourselves on this subject, yet there is nothing in
this incompetency favorable to the insults of infi-
dels, or the doubts and fears of the scrupulous.

Now, my brethren, it seems to me, we cannot
possibly imagine any more than two ways to satisfy
ourselves on this subject : the one is, to obtain a
complete idea of the decrees of God, and to com-
pare them so exactly with the disposition of sin-
ners, as to make it evident by this comparison^
that sinners are not under a necessity of commit-
ting such crimes as cause their eternal destruction.
The second is, to refer the subject to the determi-
nation of a being of the most unsuspected know-
ledge and veracity, whose testimony we may per-
suade ourselves is unexceptionable, and whose de^
claration is an infallible oracle.

The first of these ways is impracticable. To be
able to demonstrate, by an exact comparison of
the decrees of God with the nature of man, that
sinners are not necessitated to commit such crimes
as cause their eternal destruction, is, in my opi-
nion, a work more than human. Many have at-
tempted it, but though we cannot refuse the praise
due to their piety, yet, it should seem, we owe ♦his
testimony to truth, that they have not removed all
the objections to which the subject is liable.

I say more : . I venture to predict, without pre-
tending to be a prophet, that all future efforts will
be equally unsuccessfiil. ^^ The reason is, because it
is an attempt to infer consequences froni princi-
ples unknown. Who can boast of knowing the
whole arrangement^ all the extent, and all the

350 CAUS£ OF THE DESTRUCTION'

combinations of the decrees of God ? The depth
of these decrees, the obscure manner in which the
scripture expresses them, and, if I may be allowed
to say so, the darkness in which attempts to elu*
cidate them have involved them, place them infi-
nitely beyond our reach. As this n^ethod hath
been impracticable to this day, probably it will
continue so to the end of the world.

Let us try the second. The question is, whe-
ther, allowing the decrees of God, God doth any
violence to sinners, compelling them to commit
sin ? Hath not this question been fiilly answered
by a being, whose decisions are infallible oracles,
and of whose testimony we cannot possibly form
any reasonable doubt ? Yes, my bretlxren, we
know such a being; we know a being infinitely
capable of deciding this question, and who hath
actually decided it. This being is God himsdf.

To explain our meaning, and to shew the con-
nection of the answer with the question, I will
suppose you to put up this petition to God. Doth
the eternal destination, which thou hast made of
my soul before I had a being, force my will ; do
what they call predestination and reprobation in
the schools, destroy this proposition, that if I pe-
rish, my destruction proceeds alone from myself?
My God, remove this difficulty, and lay open to
me this important truth. I suppose, my brethren,
you have presented this question, and that God
ansVers in the following manner. The frailty of
your minds renders this matter incomprehensible
to you. It is impossible for men finite as you are,
to comprehend the whole extent of my decrees,
and to see in ai^lear anJ distinct manner the in-
fluence they have on the destiny of man : but I
who formed them perfectly understand them. I
am truth itself, as I am wisdom. I do declare to

OF IMPENITENT SINNERS. 351.

you, then, that none of my decrees offer violence
to my creatures, and that your destruction can
proceed from none but yourselves. As to the rest,
you shall one day perfectly understand what you
now understand only in part, and then you shall
see with your own eyes what you now see only with
mine. Cease then to anticipate a period, which
my wisdom defers, and laying aside this specula-
tion, attend you to practice, fully persuaded that
you are placed between reward and punishment,
and may have a part in which you please. Is it
not true, my brethren, that if God had answered in
this manner, it would be carrying, I do not say
raslmess, bjut insolence, to the highest degree, to
ol^t agdinst the testimony, or to desire more
light into this subject at present ? Now, my bre-
thren, we pretend that God hath given this answer,
and in a manner infinitely more clear than we have
stated it.

He hath given this answer in those pathetical ex-
postulations, in those powerful applications, and in
those exhortations, which he employs to reclaim
the greatest sinners. Now, if the decrees of God
forced sinners, if they did violence to their liberty,
would the equity of God allow him to call men out
of bondage, while he himself confined them in
chains ?

God hath given this answer, by tender com-
plahits, concerning the depravity of mankind, yea,
by tears of love shed for their miseries. O that
my people had hearkened unto me ! O that thou
hadst known^ even than, at least in this thy day^
the things which belong unto thy peace ! Psal.
Ixxxi 14. Luke xi?:. 42. Now, if the decrees of
God'force sinners, if they offer violence to their li-
berty, I am not afraid to say, this sort of language
would be a sport unworthy of the divine majesty.

352 CAUSE OF THE DESTRUCTIOH

He hath given this answer by express assurances^
that he would have all men to be saved s that he
hath no pleasure in the death of the wickedy but
that the ivicked turn from his way, and live ; that
he is not willing that any should perish, but that
all should come to repentance. Now if the decrees
of God force sinners, and do violence to their li-
berty, contrary propositions are true ; it would be
|>roper to say, God will not have all men to be
saved ; he ivill not have the sinner come to repent-
ance ; he is determined the sinner shall die.

He hath published this answer, by giving us high
ideas of his mercy ; when he prolongs the time of
his patience and long sufferings, he calls it riches
of goodness, forbearance, and long sufferings.
Now, if the decrees of God force sinners, if they
offer violence to their liberty, God would not be
more merciful, if he grants fourscore years to a
wicked man to repent in, than if he took him away
suddenly on the commission of his first sin.

He hath given this answer expressly in the text,
and in many other parallel passages, where he
clearly tells us, that after what he had done to save
us, there are no difficulties insurmountable in our
salvation, except such as we choose to put there.
For if the divine decrees force men to sin, and of-
fer violence to their liberty, the proposition in the
text would be utterly false, and the prophet could
not say on the part of God, O Israel, thou hast
destroyed thyself

As the first way of removing our difficulties is
absolutely impassible, the second is fully open.
God hath not thought proper to give us a distinct
idea of the connection between his decrees and the
liberty of sinners : but he hath openly declared,
that they do not clash together. Let us make no
more vain efforts to explain mysteries, a clear de-

OF Impenitent sinnners. 353

moDStration of which God hath reserved for ano-
ther life : but let us attend to that law, which he
hath required us to obey iii the present state.

But men will run counter to the declarations of
God in scripture. Things that are revealed,
which belong unto us and our children forever,
we leave, and we lay oilr rash hands on secret
things, zvhich belong imto the Lord our God. We
lay aside charity, moderation^ mutual patience, du-
ties clearly revealed, powerfully pressed home, and
repeated with the utmost fervor, and we set our-
selves the task of removing insuperable difficulties,
to read and turn over the book of God*s decrees.
We regulate and arrange the decrees of God, we
elevate our pretended discoveries into articles es-
sential to salvation and religion, and at length we
generate doubts and fears, which distress us on a
death bed, and oblige us to undergo the intolera**
"ble punishment of trying to reconcile doctrines^
the clearing of which is beyond the capacity of all
mankind.

No, no, it was not thy decree, O my God, that
dug hell, and kindled the devouring fire ^ the smoke
of which ascendeth up for ever and ever ! In
vain the sinner searches in a decree of reprobation
for what comes only from his own depravity. Thou
dost not say to thy creatures, yield, yield miserable
wretches to my sovereign will, which first impels
you to sin, in order to compel you to suffer that
punishment, which I have decreed for you from
all eternity. Thou reachest out thy charitable
arms, thou appliest to us motives the most proper
to affect intelligent minds. Thou openest the gates
of heaven to us, and if we be lost amidst so many
means of being saved, to thee belongeth righteous^
ness, and fo us shame and confusion of face. Q
Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself

voi,. V. 2 Y

354 CAUSE OF THE DESTRVCTIOK y

II. You will see the evidence of this proposition
much better, my brethren, if you attend to the
discussion of the second class of difikulties, to
which the subject is liable. They are taken from
the nature of religion. There are men so stupid^
or rather so wicked, as to consider religion, that
rich present which God in his great love made
mankind, as a fatal present given in anger. The
duties required seem to them vast vallies to fill up,
and huge mountains to level, and attributing in-
superable difficulties to religion, which are creatures
only of their own cowardice and malice, they can-
not comprehend how men can be punished for not
performing such impossible conditions. Let xxs^
examine this religion ; nothing more is necessary
to r^nove this odious objection.

I . Observe the first character of evangelical mo-
rality, bow clearly it is revealed. Let heresy at-
tack the truth of our mysteries. If demonstrative
arguments cannot be produced, probable ones
may ; if the doctrines cannot be expunged from
the letter of scripture, at least they may be dis-
guised ; if they cannot be rendered contemptible^
they may for a while be made difficult to under-
stand: but propositions that concern moral vir-
tue, are placed in a light so clear, that, far from
extinguishing it, nothing can diminish its bright^
ness. Religion clearly requires a magistrate to be
equitable, and a subject obedient ; a father ten-
der, and a son dutiful ; a husband affectionate, and
a wife faithful ; a master gentle, and a servant di-
ligent ; a pastor vigilant, and a flock teachaA>]e.
Religion clearly requires us to exercise moderation
in prosperity, and patience in adversity. Religion
clearly requires us to be wholly attentive to the di-
vine majesty, when we are at the foot of his throne,
and never to lose sight of him after our dfevotiops

OF IMPENITENT SINNERS. 355

are finished. Religion clearly requires us to per-
form all the duties of our calling through the whole
course of life, and wholly to renounce the world
when we come to die. Except some extraoixlinary
cases, (and would to God, my brethren, we had
arrived at such a degree of perf<^tion as rendered
it necessary for us to examine what conduct we
ought to observe in some circumstances, which the
law seems not to have fully explained !) I say, ex-
cept such cases, all others are regulated in a man«
ner so clear, distinct, and intelligible, that we not
only cannot invent any difficulties, but that, ex-
cept a few idiots, nobody hath ever pretended ta
invent any.

2. The next character of christian morality, is,
dignity of principle. Why did God give us laws ?
Because he loves us, and because he would have us
love him. Why doth he require us to bear the
cross ? Because he loves us, because he would have
us love him, and because infatuation with creatures
is incompatible with this two-fold love. Why
doth he require us to deny ourselves ? Because he
loves us, and because he would have us love him,
because it is impossible for him to love us, and yet
to permit our ill-directed self-love to hurry us blindly ^
into a gulf of misery; because it is impossible if
we love him, to love ourselves in a manner so in-
glorious to him. How pleasant is it to submit to
bonds which the love of God imposes on us ! How
delightful is it to yield to obligations, when the
love of God supports us under the weight of them !

3. The third character of christian morality is,
the justice of its dominion. All its claims are
founded on reason and equity. Examine the laws
of religion, one by one, asd you will find they all
bear this character. Doth religion prescribe hu- s
mility ? It doth : but what is this humility ? It is

356 CAUSE OF THE DESTRUCTION

a virtue that shocks reason, and degrades the dig-
nity of 'human nature ? By no means ; the gospe;!
proposes to elevate us to the highest dignity that
we are capable of attaining. But what then doth
it mean by requiring ns to be humble ? It means
that we should not estimate ourselves by such ti-
tles and riclies, such dignities and exterior things,
as we have in common, with men like Caligula,
' Nero, Heliogabalus, and other monsters of nature,
scourges of society. Does religion require mor-
tification? It doth; it even describes it by the
the most painful emblems. It requires us to cut
off a right hand, to pluck out a right eye, to tear
asunder all the ties of flesh and blood, nature and
self-love. But what doth it mean by prescribing
such mortification as this ? Must we literally hate
ourselves, and must we take as much pains here-
after to make ourselves miserable, as we have taken
hitherto to make ourselves happy ? No, my bre-
thren, on the contrary, no doctrine hath ever car-
ried self-love, properly explained, so far. The
christian doctrine of mortification, means, that by
a few momentary acts of self-demal, we should free
ourselves from eternal misery, and that by con-
temning temporal things which are seen, we should
obtain things which are not seen, but which are
eternal.

4. But, say you, this perfection required by the
gospel, is it within our reach ? Is it not this re-
ligion which exhorts us to be perfect as God is
perfect ? Is not this the religion that exhorts us to
be holy as God is holy ? Doth not this religion re-
quire us to be renewed after the image of him
that created us ? Indeed it doth, my brethren :
yet this law, severe as it may seem, hath a fourth
character exactly according to our just wishes, that
is, it hath a character of proportion ! As we see

OF IMPENITEKr SIKNERS. ^ 35?

in the doctrines of religion, that although they
open a vast field to the most sublime geniuses, yet
they accommodate themselves to the most con-
tracted minds; so in regard to the moral parts of
religion, though the most eminent saints are re-
quired to make more progress, yet thi first efforts
of novices are acceptable services, provided they
are sincerely disposed to persevere. Jesus Christ,
our great lawgiver, knoweth our frame ^ and re-
membereth thai we are dust : he will not break
a bruised reed, and smoaking flax he will not
quench : and the rule by which he will judge us,
will not be so much taken from tlie infinite rights
acquired over us by creatioii and redemption, as
from our frailty, and the efibrts we shall have made
to surmount it.

5. Power of motive is another character of evan-
gelical morality. In this life we are animated, I
will not say only by gratitude, equity, and reason,
motives too noble to actuate most men : but by
motives interesting to our passiqns, and proper to
inflame them, if they be well and thoroughly un-
derstood.

You have ambition. But how do you mean to
gratify it ? By a palace, a dress, a few servants, a
few horses in your carriage ? False idea of gran-
deur, fanciful elevation ! 1 see in a course of chris-
tian virtue an ambition well directed. To approach
God, to be like God, to be made a partaker of the
divine nature j this is true grandeur, this is sub-
stantial glory.

You are avaricious ;-hence perpetual care, hence
anxious fears, hence never ending movements.
But how can your avarice bear to think of all the
vicissitudes that may afiect your fortune. In a
' course of christian virtue I see an avarice well di-
rected. The gospel promiseth a fortune beyond

358 CAUSE OF THE DESTRITCTIOK

vicissitude, and directs us to a faithful correspondent,
who will return us for one grain thirty, for another
sixty, fo(* another a hundred fold.

You are voluptuous, and you refine sensual en-
joyments, tickle your appetite, and sleep in a bed
of down ! I see( in a course of virtue a joy un-
speakable and full of glory^ a peace that passeth
all understandings pleasures boundless in prospect,
and delicious enjoyment, pleasures greater than
the liveliest imagination can conceive, and more
beautiful than the most eloquent lips can describe.
Such is religion, my brethren. What a fund of
stupidity, negligence, and corruption, must a man
have to resist it ? Is this the religion we must op-
pose in order to be damned ! O Israely thou hast
destroyed thyself

III. Well, well, we grant, say you, we are stu-
pid not to avail ourselves of such advantages as re-
ligion sets before us; we are negligent, we are
depraved, but all this depravity, negligence, and
stupidity, are natural to us ; we bring these dispo-
sitions into the world with us, we did not make
them ourselves ; in a word, we are naturally in-
clined to evil, and incapable of doing good. This
religion teaches, of this we are convinced by our
own feelings, and the experience of all mankind
confirms it.

This is the third difficulty concerning the propo-
sition in the text, and it is taken from the condition
of human nature. In answer to this, I say, that
the objection implies four vague notions of human
depravity, each erroneous, and all removable by a
clear explication of the subject.

1 . When we speak of our natural impotence to
practise virtue, we confound it with an insur-
mountable necessity to commit the greatest crimes.

OF IMPEHITfiNT SINKERS. $59

Wehiay be in the first case without being in the
second. We may be sick, and incapable of pro-
curing medicines to restore health, without being
invincibly impelled to aggravate our condition, by
taking poison for food, and a dagger for physic.
A man may be in a pit without ability to get out,
and yet not be invincibly compelled to throw him-
self into a chasm beneath him, deeper and darker,
and more terrible still. In like manner, we may
be so enslaved by depravity, as not to be able to
part with any thing to relieve the poor, and yet
not so as to be absolutely compelled to rob them
of the alms bestowed on them by others, and so of
the rest.

It seems to me, my brethren, that this distinction
hath not been attended to in discourses of human
depravity. Let people allege this impotence to
exculpate themselves for not practising virtue, with,
all my heart : but to allege it in excuse of odious
crimes practised every day freely, willingly, and
of set purpose, is to form such an idea of natural
depravity as no divine hath ever given, and such as
can never be given with the least appearance of
truth. No sermon, no body of divinity, no coun-
cil, no synod, ever said that human depravity was
so great, as absolutely to force a man to become
an assassin, a murderer, a slanderer, a plunderer of
the fortune, and a destroyer of the life of his neigh-
bor, or, what is worse than either, a murderer of
his reputation and honor. Had such a proposition
been advanced, it would not be the more probable
for that, and nothing ought to induce us to spare
it. Monsters of nature ! who after vou have taken
pains to eradicate from your hearts such fibres of
virtue as sin seems to have left, would you attempt
to exculpate yourselves ? You, who, after you have
rendered yourselves in every instance unlike God,

360 CAUSE OF THE DJESTRITCTION

would carry ^'our madness so far as to render God
like yourselves^ by accusing him of creating you
with dispositions, which oblige you to dip your
hands in innocent blood, to build your houses with
the spoils of widows and orphans, and to commit
crimes subversive of society ? Cease to affirm
these are natural dispositions. No, they are ac-
quired dispositions. That part of religion which
prohibits your excesses, is practicable by you with--
out the supernatural aid necessary to a thorough
conversion.

2. When we speak of natural depravity, we con-
found the pure virtue that religion inspires with
other virtues, which constitution, education, and
motives of worldly honor, are sufficient to enable
us to practise. I grant, you cannot practise sucfii
virtues as have the love of God for their principle^
order for their motives, and perfection for their
end : but you may at least acknowledge your na-
tural depravity, and exclaim, O wretched man that
I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this
death ! You may at least exclaim with the ma-
gician mentioned by a poet, I see and approve of
the best things, though I practise the worst. You
may do more, you may practise some artificial vir-
tues, which the very heathens, not in covenant
with God, exemplified. You may be cautious like
Ulysses, temperate like Scipio, chaste like Polemon,
wise like Socrates. If then you neglect this sort
of virtue, and if your negligence ruin you, your
destruction is of yourselves.

3. When we speak of natural depravity, we
confound that of a man born a pagan, with only
the light of reason, with that of a christian, born
and educated among christians, and amidst all the
advantages of revelation. This vague way of talk-
ing is a consequence of the miserable custom of

OF IMP£NIT£NT SINKElL$« 361

taking detacbed passages of scripture^ considering
them only in themselves, without any regard to
connection of time, place, or circumstance, and
applying them indiscriminately to their own ima-
ginations and systemSi The inspired writers giv^
us dreadful descriptions of the state of believers
before their being called to Christianity : they call
this state a night, a death, a nothing, in regard to
the practice of virtue ; and certainly the state of
a man now living without religion under the gos-
pel economy, may be properly described in the
same manner: but yet I affirm, that these expres-
sions must be taken in a very different sense. This
night, this death, this nothing, if I may be al-
lowed to speak so, have different degrees. The
degrees in regard to a native pagan are great^p
than those in regard to a native christian. What
then, my brethren, do you recken for nothing all
the care taken of you in your infancy, all the in-
structions given you in your childhood by your
pious fathers and mothers, all the lessons they pro-
cured others to give you, all the tutors who have
given you information ! What ! agreeable books
put into your hands, exhortations, directions, and
sermons, addressed to you, you reckon all these
things for nothing ! What ! you make no account
of the visits of your pastors, when you thought
yourselves dying; of the proper discourses they
directed to you concerning your past negligence,
of your own resolutions and vows ! I ask, do you
reckon all this for nothing ? All these efforts have
heexx attended with no good effect : but you are as
ambitious, as worldly^ as envious, as covetous, as
eager in pursuit of lasciviousness, as ever the hea-
then& were, and you never blush, nor ever feel re-
morse, and all under pretence that the gospel

VOL. V, S z

T

^y

s

d6S CA^#B <yf Tif£ DEiSTIlirCflOK

teaches m*We ^re frail, and can do nothiiig withotit
the assistance of God !

4. In fine, my brethren, whiSti we spedc 6f the
depravity of nature, We confound the condition of
a man, to whom God hath given only exterior te^
relation, wHh the condition of him to whdm God
offisTs^ snperiiatural ^id to assist hiiEb against his na^
tural frailty, which prevents his living np to exter-
nal revelation. Doth he not offer you this asisist-
ance ? Doth not the holy scripture tfeach yon in a
hundred pTaces, that it is your own fault if you he
deprived of it ?

necotlect only the famous words of St. James,
Wfai4bwefe lately ^plltihed to y6U ita this piilpit
%ith the greatest deamess, and pre«E^d IxHne with
the' utmost pbthos. If any of you lack wisdom^
let kirn aikof Gody that giveth to all Men liberally,
and upbraideih not, and it shall ^be given him.
God giveth to all men liberally, to all without e!t-
deptioD, and they who are deprived of this wisictom,
ought to blame none but themselves, not God,
^ho giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth
noi.

True, to obtain it, we must ask it with a design
to profit by it ; we must ask it nothing wavering,
that is, not divided between the hope and the fear
of obtainihgit; we must not be like those double
minded rhen, who are unstable in all their ways,
who seem by asking wisdom to esteem virtue, but
who discover by the abuse they make of what wis-
dom they have, that virtue is supremely hateful to
them. We must not resemble the waves of the*
sea, whirfi seem to offer the spectator on shore a
treasure,, but which presently drown him in gulfs
fi'om wftich he cannot possibly free himself. Doth
God set this wisdom before us at a price too hi^ ?
Ought we to find fault with him for refusing to be-

-. »

stow its while we refqse to apply i^ to that mora}
u^e wh^Qh jqstice require ? Can we desire God to
bestow bis grace on such as ^sk for it oply to ia-
sulthim?

O ! That we were properly a^B^tedt with the
greatness of our depravity, and the shajcne of ouf
slavery ! But pur condition^ aU scand^.lQUS au4 hor-
rible as it i$, seems to us all full of chants.

When we: are toljd that sin hath subverted nar'
ture, infected the air, confounded in a nianner Qold
with heat, heat with cold, wet with dry, dry with
wet, aud disconcerted the beautiful prder oiC crea-
tion, which constituted the happinesa of cr^ures;
when we cast our eye$ on the maladies caused hy
sin, the vic^si^udes occasioned by it, the dominion
qi death over all creatures, which it hath estab-
lished : when we see ourselves stretched on a sick
bed, cold, pale, dying amidst sorrows sind tears,
fears and pains, waiting to be torn, from a world
we idolize \ then we detest sin, and groa|i under
the weiglit of its chains. Should that spirit, who
knocks to day at th€ door of our hearts, say to us,
open sinner, I will restore nature tp its beauty, the
air shall be serene, and all the elements ii^ har-
mony, I will confirm your healthy reanimate your
enfeebled frame, lengthen your life, aiid banifijh
forever from your houses death,* that death which
stains all your rpoms with blood : Ah ! every heart
would bum with ardor to possess this assistance,
and every one of qiy hearers would make these
waUs echo with, come holy spirit, come and dry
t)p our tears by putting an end to our maladies.

Sut when we are told, that sin hath degraded us
f/*pqa pur natiiral dignity ^ that it hath loaded us
with chains of depravity; that man> a creature
fornied on the niodel of the divine perfections, and
r^uir^ to^ receive np other laws than those of or-

964 CAUSE OF THE DESTRVCTIOK

«

der, is become the sport of unworthy passions^
which move him as they please, which say to him,
go, and he goeth, come, and he cometh, which
debase and vilify him at pleasure ; we are not af-
fected with these mortifying truths, but we glory
in our shame !

Slaves of sin ! Captives under a heavier yoke
than that of Pharaoh, in a furnace more cruel than
that of Egypt ! Behold your deliverer ! He comes
to day to break your bonds and set you free. The
assistance of grace is set before you. What am I
saying } An abundant measure it already commu-
nicated to you. Already you know your misery.
Already you are seeking relief from it. Avail your-
self of this. Ask for this succor, and if it be re-
fused you, ask again, and never cease asking till
you have obtained it.

Recollect, that the truths we have been preach-
ing, are the most mortifying of religion, and the
most proper to humble us. It was voluntarily that
we so often rebelled against God, Freely, alas !
freely, and without compulsion, we have some of
us denied the truths of religion, and others given
mortal wounds to the majesty of its laws. Ah !
are there any tears too bitter, is there any remorse
too cutting, any ,cavern in the earth too deep, to
expiate the guilt of such a frightful character !

Remember, the truths we have been teaching
are full of consolation. This part of my text, O
Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself , is connected
with the other part, but in me is thine help. God
yet intreats us not to detroy ourselves. God hath
not yet given us up. He doth not know, pardon
this expression, he is a stranger to that point of
honor, which often engages us to turn away forever
fro^n those who have treated us with contemipt.
He, he himself, the great, the mighty Gt)d, doth

OF IMPENITENT SINNERS. 365

not think it beneath him, not unworthy of his glo-
rious majesty, yet to entreat us to return to him
and be happy. O mercy ^ that reacheth to the hea-
vens ! O faithfulness reaching unto the clouds !
What consolations flow from you to a soul afraid
of having exhausted you !

Above all, think, think, my brethren, that the
truth we have been preaching, will become one of
the most cruel torments to the damned. Devour-
ing flame, kindled by Ihe divine vengeance in hell,
I have no need of your light ; smoke ascending up
for ever and ever, I have no need to be struck with
your blackness; chains of darkness, that weigh
down the damned, I have no need to know your
weight, to enable me to form lamentable ideas of
the punishments of the reprobate, the truth in my
text is sufficient to make me conceive* your horror.
Being lost, it will be remembered that there was a
time when destruction might have been prevented.
One of you will recollect the education God gave
you, another the sermon he addressed to you, a third
the sickness he sent to reform you : conscience will
be obliged to do homage to an avenging God, it
will be forced to allow, that the aid of the spirit of
God was mighty, the motives of the gospel power-
ful, and the duties of it practicable. It will be
compelled to acquiesce in this terrible truth, thou
hast destroyed thyself A condemned soul will in-
cessantly be its own tormentor, and will continually
say, I am the author of my own punishment, I
might have been saved, I opened and entered this
horrible gulf of myself.

Inculcate all these great truths, christians, let
them affect you, let them persuade you, let them
compel you. God grant you the- grace ! To him
be honor and glory for ever* Amen.

SERMON JCJV.

THE GRtEF OF THE RI&HTEOtJS FOR THE
MISCONDUCT OF THE WICKED.

Psalm cxuc. 1S6.

ilfV^j rf ^vtfoUrs run xfetvn fiAie fyes : tecause they kttp Mt thy iaw.

FEW {yeople are sudi novices in religion, as not
to know, that sinners ought to be troubled for
their own sifns : but it is but here and there a man,
who enters so much into the spirit of religion, as
to understand how for the sins of others ought to
trouble us. David was a model of both these kinds
of penitential grief

Repentance for his own sins is immortalized in
his penitential psalms: and would to God, instead
of that fatal security, and that unmeaning levity,
which most of us discover, even after we have
grossly offended God, would to God we had the
sentiments of "this penitent i His sin was always be-
fore him, and embittered all the pleasures of life.
You know the language of his grief: Have mercy
on me, O Lor d^ for I am weak y my bones are vexed.
Mine iniquities are gone over mine head : as an
heavy burden, they are, too heavy for me. Outpf
the depths have I cried unto tf^e, Lord. I ao*

368 GRIEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS, &C.

knowledge my transgression^ and my sin is ever
be/ore me. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O
Godf thou God of my salvation. Restore unto me
the joy of thy salvation, that the bones which thou
hast broken, may rejoice.

But as David gives us such proper models of pe-
nitential expressions of grief for our own sins, so
he furnisheth us with others as just for lamenting
the sins of others. You have heard the text, ri-
vers of waters run down mine eyes, because they
keep not thy law. Read the psalm from which the
text is taken, and you will find that our prophet
shed three sorts of tears for the sins of others. The
first were tears of zeal, the second flowed from
love, the third from self-interest. This isthelkind
of penitenpe which I propose^to day to your emifr-
lation.

In the first place, I will describe the insults,
which a sinner offers to God, and wi|l endeavor to
shew you, that it is impossible for a good man to
see his God affronted in this manner, without be-
ing extremely grieved, and shedding tears of zeal.

In the second place, I will enumerate the mi-
series into which a sinner plunges himself, by his
obstinate perseverance in sin, and I will endeavor to
convince you, that it is impossible for a good man
to see this without shedding tears of pity dm^love.

In the third place, I shall shew you, if I per-
ceive your attention continue, the disorders, which
sinners cause in society, in our cities, and famiUes,
and you will perceive, that it is impossible for a
good man to see the prosperity of society every
day endangered and damaged by its enemies, with-
out shedding tears of self interest.

Almighty God, whose tender mercies are over
all thy works, but whose adorable providence con^-
demns us to wander in a valley of tears, -O conde-

GfRIEF OP TH& ilI0HT£0VS5 &C. 369

SKiend, to put our tears into thy bottle y and to gather
us in due time to thai happy society, in which con-
formity to thy laws is the highest happiness and
glory! Amen.

I. David shed over sinners of his time tears of
zeal. Thus he expressed himself ia the psalm^
ffXHn which we have taken the text. My zeal hath
consumed me^ because mine enemiesbave forgotten
tffy words. But what is zeal ? How many people
to exculpate theinselves for not feeling this sacred
^me, ridicule it as a, phantom, the mark of an en-
thusiast ? However, there is no disposition more
real and sensible, The word zeal, is vague and
metaphorical ; it signifies fire, t^eat, warmth, and^
applied to intelligent beings, it means the activity
and vehemence of their desires, hence in common
style it is attributed to all the passions indifierently,
good and bad : but it is most commonly applied to
religion, and there it hath twotmea^ings, the one
vague, the other precise.

In a yague sense, zeal is put less for a particular
virtue, than for a general vigor and vivacity per-
vading all the powers of the soul of a zealous man»
Zeal is opposed to luj^ewarmness, and lukewarm-
njess is not a, particular vice, but a dulness, an in-
dolence, that accompanies and enfeebles all the
exercises of the religipn of a lukewarm man. Oa
the. contrary, zeal is a fire animating all the emo-
tions, of the piety of the man who hath it, and giv-
ing them, all the worth and weight of vehemence.

But as the most noble exercises of religion are
mch as have God for their object, and as the vii:-
tue of virtues, or, as Jesus Christ expresseth it, the
first and great commandment is that of divine love,
zeal is particularly taken (and this is the precise
meaning of the word) for loving God, not for a

vol.. V. 3 a

370 GRIEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS,^ &C»

love limited and moderate, such as that which we
ought to have for creatures, even creatures the
most worthy of esteem ; but a love boundless and
beyond moderation, so to speak, like that of glo-
rified spirits to the Supreme IntelHgence, whose
perfections have no limits, whose beauties are in-
finite.

The idea thus fixed, it is easy to comprehend,
that a soul animated with zeal, cannot see without
the deepest softx>w the insults offered by sinners to
his God. What object is it that kindles flames of
zeal to an ingenuous soul ? It is the union of three
attributes: an attribute of magnificence, an attri-
bute of holiness, and an attribute of communica^
tion. This union can be found only in God, and
for this reason God only is worthy of supreme love.
Cvery being, in whom any one of these three attri*
butes is wanting, yea, any being in whom any de-
gree is wanting, is not, cannot be an object of jsu*
premeloye. ^

In vain would God possess attributes of charita-
ble communication, if he did not possess attributes
of magnificence. His attributes of communication
vyould indeed inspire me with sentiments of grati-
tude : but what benefit should I derive from his in-
clination to make me happy, if he had not power
sufficient to do so, and if he were not himself the
happy Gody that is, the origin, the sourse of all fe-
licity, or, as an inspired writer speaks, the parent
of every good and every perfect gift ? James i. 17.
In this case he would reach a feeble band to help
me, he would shed unavailing tears over my mise-
ries, and I could not say to him, my supreme good
is to draw near to thee^whom have I in heaven but
thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire
beside thee, Psal. Ixxiii, 28, 25.

In vain would God possess attributes of holiness.

GttlEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS, &c; S^P

if he did not possess attributes of Gomtnunication:
In this case he would indeed be an object of my ad-
miration, but he could not be the ground of my
hope. I should be struck with the contemplation
of a virtue always pure, always firm, and always
alike : but in regard to me, it would be only an
abstract and metaphysical virtue, which could have
no influence over my happiness. Follow this reason-
ing in regard to the other attributes, and you will
perceive that nothing but an union of these three
can render an object supremely lovely ; and as this
union can be found only in God, it is God only
who can be the object of zeal, or, what is' the same
thing expressed in other words, God alone is
worthy of supreme love. •

As we make a progress in our meditation, and
in proportion as we acquire a just notion of true
zeal, we shall enter into the spirit and meaning of
the words of our psalmist. Do you love God as he
did ? Does your heart burn like his with flames of
divine zeal ? Then you can finish the first part of
my discourse, for you know by experience this
disposition of mind, my zeal hath consumed me,
because mine enemies have forgotten thy words.
Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they
keep not thy law.

Sinners, I do not mean such as sin through infirm-
ity and surprize; the text does not speak of them.
I mean such as sin openly, freely, and deliberately ;
these sinners attack the perfections of God, either
his attributes of magnificence, or those of holiness,
or those of communication, and sometimes all three
together. They endeavor to disconcert the beauti-
ful harmony of the divine perfections, and so to
rob us of all we adore, the only worthy object of our
•esteem.

They attack the magnificence of God. Such

S7% itelEF OF TBE tlOntBOVS, &€.

are those madmen, who employ all the depth of
their erudition, all the accuteness of their geniud,
and all the fire of their fancy, to obscure the ett^r-
nity of the first cause, tho infinity of hif power,
the infallibility of his wisdom, and every other per^
fection that makes a part of that complexure or
combination of excellences, which w^ call magni*
ficence. Such, again, are those abominable cha-
racters, who supply the want of genius with the
depravity of their hearts, and the blasphemies of
their mouth3, and who, not being able to attack
bim with specious reasonings and plausible so-
phisms, endeavor to stir up his subjects to rebel,
defying his power, and trying whether it be posiu-
ble to deprive him of the empire of the world.

Some sinners attack the attributes of holiness in
the perfect Grod. Such are those detestable men,
who presume to tax him with falsehood and deceit,
who deny the truth of his promises, who accuse
bis laws of injustice, and his conduct of prevarica-
tion, who would persuade us, that the reins of the
universe would be held much more wisely by their
impure hands than by those of the judge of all the
earth.

Some sinners attack the attributes of communi-
cation. Such, in the first instance, are those un-
grateful persons, who, while they breathe only his
air, and live only on his aliments, while only hie
earth bears, and only his sun illuminates them,
while they neither live^ nor movCj^ nor have a beings
but what they derive from him, while be opens to
them the path to supreme happiness, I mean the
road of faith and obedience, pretend that he is
wanting in goodness, charge him with all the mise-
ries into which they have the madness to plunge
themselves, dare to accuse him with taking pleasure
in tormenting his creatures, and in the sufierings

GEIEF OF THE RIGHTEOU?, &C^ 37^

of the unfortunate; who wish the goodness of the
Supreme Being were regulated by their caprice, or
rather by their madness, and will liever consent to
worship him as good, except he allows them with
impunity to gratify their most absurd and guilty
passions.

Observe too, people may be profane by actions
as well as by system and reasoning. , If sinners a^t-
tack the attributes of God directly, it is equj^Uy
true, they make an indirect attack upon the same
perfections. ^

Here I wish, my brethren, each of us had ac-
ctistomed himself to derive his morality from evai>-
gelical sources, to bear the language of inspired
writers, and to judge of his own actions not by
such flattering portraits as bis own prejudices pro-
duce, but by the essential properties of morality,
as it is described in the word of t^pd.

For example, what is a man vvrho coolly puts
himself under the protection of another man, with-
out taking any thought about the guardianship of
God ? He is a profane wretch, who declares war
against God, and attacks bis attributes of magnifi-
cence, by attributing more poiver to the patron,
under whose wing he creeps and thinks himself se-
cure, than to that God who takes the title of King
qf kings. What I say of confidence in a king, I
afiirm of confidence in all other creatures, whoever
or whatever they be. On thi^ principle the psalm-
ist grounded this exhortation, put not your trust
in princes nor in the son qf man, in t^fiotn there
is no help. His breath goeth forth, he returneth
to his earth, in that very day his thoughts pe-
rish* On this principle is this other declaration
of a prophet founded, cursed be the man that trust--
eth in man, andmaketh ^sh his arm. And it is
on this principle that sacred history iipputes so

574 GRIEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS, ScC.

great a crime to Asa, because when he fdl sick,
and saw himself reduced to extremity, he sought
to the physicians, and not to the Lord.

What is a man who gives up his heart to idolize
any particular object ? What is a man who follows
certain sympatliies, a certain secret influence, cer-
tain charms omnipotent to him, because he chooses
to yield to their omnipotence ? He is a profane
wretch, who declares war against God, and who
attacks his attributes of communication ; he is a
man, who attests by his conduct that there is more,
pleasure in his union to his idol than there can be
in communion with God ; he is a man, who main-
tains by his actions, that this creature, to whom he
gives himself up without reserve, merits more love,
and knows how to return love with more delicacy
and constancy, than that God, who is the only mo-
del of perfect love ; he is a man, who resists this
invitation of eternal wisdom, my son give me thine
hearty and who disputes a truth that ought to be
considered as a first principle in a system of love,
in thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand
there are pleasures for evermore, Psal. xvi. II.

Let us abridge this part of our discourse, and
let us return to the chief end we proposed. A sin-
ner, who sins openly, freely, of set purpose, at-
tacks the attributes of God, either his attributes of
greatness, or his attributes of communication, or
his attributes of holiness, sometimes all the three
together. A good man, who sincerely loves God,
can he look with indifference on such insults offered
to the object of his love ? And in which of the
saints, whom the inspired writers have proposed as
examples to you, have you discovered this guilty
indifference ?

Behold Moses. He comes down from the holy
mountain, he bears the acclamations of those mad-

GRIEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS^ &C. 37^

men, who were celebrating a foolish feast in honor
of their idol, and he replies to Joshua, who thought
it was a war .shout, Ah ! no, it is not the voice of
them that shout for mastery^ neither is it the
voice of them that cry for being overcome, but the
noise of them that sing do I hear^ Exod. xxxii.
.18. Convinced by his own eyes, he trembles at
the sight, breaks the tables of the law, on whjch
God had engraven with his own adorable hand the
clauses of the covenant, which this people were
now violating, he runs tp the gate of the campy
and cries, who is on the Lord*s side? Let him
come unto me. And when all the sons of Levi
gathered themselves unto him, he said unto them,
put every man his sword by his side, and go in and
out from gate to gate, throughout the camp, and
slay every man his brother, and every man his
companion, and every man his neighbor, ver. 26,
27. See Phinehas. fie perceives Moses and Aaron
weeping at the door of the tabernacle, because
the people had forsaken the worship of God, and
gone over to that of Baal-peor ; touched with their
grief, he rises up, quits the congregation, takes a
javelin in his hand, and stabs an Israelite with
the immodest Midianite, who had enticed the peo-
ple into this abominable idolatry. Behold Elijah !
/ am very jealous^ saith he, for the Lord God of
Hosts, for the children of Israel have forsaken
his covenant, throivn down his alters, and slain
his prophets with the sword, 1 Kings, xix. 10.
Remark St. Paul. His spirit was stirred in him
to see a nation, in other respects the most learned
and polite, rendering to an unknown God such ho-
niage as was due to none but the Most High,
whose 5f/{?ry the heavens declare, and whose handy-
work the .firmament sheweth. Behold the royal
prophet. Do not 1 hate them, O Lord, that hate

376 GKIUJP W THE RIQHT«OUS^ &e.

thee ? And am not I grieved with thase thai rise
up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred^
J count them mine enemies, Psal. cxxxix. 21, 22.
Mu zeal hath consumed me. because mine enemies
have forgotten thy words. Rivers of waters run
down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law.
Rivers of tears, tears, of which my zeal for thy
glbry is the first cause.

II. Although the sinner be hateful as a sinner^
yet as an unhappy person, he is an object of pity,
and it is possible he may preclude future ills by re*
pentance. As to love God with all the heart is
the first and great commandment, so the second is.
like unto it, thou shall love thy neighbor as thyself
Sin is a source of misery to a sinner, and it is im*
possible for a good man to see, without shedding
tears of love and pity, the depths of woe inta»
which people united to him by bonds of affection^
plunge themselves by their obstinacy in sin.

Every thing favors this subject. In regard to
the present life, a man living according to laws of
virtue, is incomparably more happy than he who
gives himself up to vice. So the holy spirit hath
declared, godliness hath promise of the life that
now isy 1 Tim. iv. 8. Though this general rule
hath some exceptions, yet they cannot regard the
serenity of mind, the peace of the conscience, the
calm of the passions, the confidence of good men,
their steadiness in the calamities of life, and their
intrepidity at the approach of death. , All these
advantages, and many others, without which the
most brilliant condition and the most delicious life,
are only a splendid slavery, and a source of grief,
all these advantages, I say, are inseparable from
piety. A charitable man cannot see, without deep
affliction, objects of his tenderest love renounce

GltiEP 0|f THE RIGHTEOUS, &C. 377

such itiedtim^tble advaniagies, poison the pleasure
of their own liffe, open an inexhaustible source of
remorse, and prepare for themselves racks and tor-
lures. '

But, iny brethren, these ^re only the least sub-
jects of our present contemplation. We have other
bitter reflections to ihake, and other tears to shed,
and there is exposition of charity more just, and
at the samig time more lamentable, of the words of
ttiy text, rivers of zvaters run down mine eyes, be^
cause they ketp not thy law.

I am thinking of the eternal ihisery in Which
sinners involve themselves. We are united to sin*
ners by ties of nature, by bonds of society, and
by obligations of religion, and who can help tremb^
ling to think, that persons, round whom so many
tendrils of affectionate ligaments twine, should be
threatened t^ith Everlasting torments ! Some peo-
ple are so much struck with this thought, that they
think, when we shall be in heaven, all ideas of peo-
ple related to us on earth will be effaced from our
memory, that we shall entirely lose the power of
remembering, that we shall not even know such as
share celestial happiness with us, lest the idea of
such as are deprived of it should diminish our plea-
sure, and embitter our happiness. It would be easy,
in my opinion, to remove this difficulty, if it were
necessary now. In heaven order, and order alone,
will be the foundation of our happiness; and if or-
der condemns the persons we shall have most es-
teemed, our happiness will not be affected by their
misery. We shall love only in God ; we shall feel
no attachment to any who do not love God as we
do ; their cries will not move us r, nor will their tor-
ments excite our compassion.

But while we are in this world, God would have
us affected with the misery that threatens a sinner,

VOL. V. 3 B

378 GRIEF OF TUB RIGHTEOUS, &C.

that our own feelings may excite us to prevent it.
You have sometimes admired one of the most mar-
vellous phenomena of nature : nature bath united
us together by invisible bonds ; it hatb formed our
fibres in perfect unison with the fibres of our neighr
bor ; we cannot see him exposed to violent pain
without receiving a counterblow, an unvaried tone
that sounds to relieve him, and forces us to assist
him. This is the work of that Creator, whose in-
finite goodness is seen in all his productions. He
intends that these sentiments of commiseration in
us should be so many magazines to supply what
the temporal miseries of our neighbors require.

So in regard to eternity, there is a harmony, and»
if you will allow the expression, there is an unison
of spirits. While we are in this world, an idea of
the eternal destruction of a person we esteem, sus-
pends the pleasure which a hope of salvation pro-
mised to ourselves would otherwise cause. It is the
work of the Creator, whose goodness shines brighter
in religion than in the works of nature. That hor-
ror, which is caused by a bare appearance^ that
the man we so tenderly love, should be reserved
for eternal torments, I say, the bare suspicion of
such a calamitous event, compels us to flee to the
aid of the unhappy object of our esteem, to pluck
him from the jaws of destruction, by reclaiming
him from his errors with the force of exhortation
and the power of example. To combat these
sentiments is to oppose the intention of God ; to
tear these from our hearts, is to disrobe ourselves of
that charity, without which there is no religion.

Accordingly, the more a mind becomes perfect
in the exercise of this virtue, the more it hath of
this kind of sensibility. Hence it was that St. Paul
so sharply reproved the Corinthians, because they
had not mourned on account of that incestuous

OHIEP OF THE UIGHTEOTJS^ &C. 379

person^ who had disgraced their church. Hence
it was, that Moses, when he discovered that gross
idolatry, of which we just now spoke, gave him-
self up to the deepest sorrow, and said to the Lord,
Ohy this people have sinned a great sin ! Yet nowy
forgive their sin^ and if not, blot me, I pray thee,
out of thy hook. Hence it was that Jeremiah said
to the Jews of his time, who were going captives
into a foreign land, where they would be destitute
of the comfort of religion, give glory to God be-
fore he cause darkness, and before your feet sfum^
ble upon the dark mountains^ But if you loill not
hear it, my soul shall weep in secret places for
your pride, and mine eyes shall weep sore,, and
run down with tears, because the Lord^s flock is
carried away captive. Hence this declaration of
Paul to the Philippians, Many walk, of zvhom I
have told you often, *and now tdl you even zveep^
ing, that they are the enemies cfthe cross of Christ.
Hence it was that Jesus Christ, the chief model of
charity, when he overlooked the unhappy Jerusa-
lem, and saw the heavy judgments coming upon it,
wept over it, saying, O that thou hadst knoxvn, even
thou, at least in this thy day, the things that be-
long unto thy peace I but now they are hid from
thine eyes.

Here I venture to defy those of you, who glory
in insensibility, to be insensible and void of feel-
ing. No, nothing but the most confirmed inatten-
tion to futurity, nothing but the wretched habit
we have formed of thinking of nothing but the pre-
sent world, can hinder our being affected with sub-
jects which make the deepest impressions on the
i!k)ul of the psalmist. Consider them as he did, and
you will be affected as he was. You, hardest hearts,
try your insensibility, and see whether you can re-
sist 0uch reflections as these ! This friend, who is

380 GRIEF OF im RIGHTEOUS^ &C.

my coynsel in difficulty, my support in trouble, my
comfort in adversity ; this friend, who constitutes
the pleasure of my life, will be perhaps forever ex-
cluded from that happiness in heaven, to which all
my hopes and wishes tend : when I shall be in the
society of angels, he will be in the company of
devils; when he shall knock at the door of the
bridegroom, who opened to me, he will receive
this answer, verib/y I say unto you, 1 know you
not. This catechumen, in whose mind I endea-
vored to inculcate the truths of religion ; a part of
the men whom I thought I had subdued to Jesus
Christ ; a great number of these hearers, whom I
often told, that they would b^e my joy and crown
in the day of the Lord, (certainly you are our joy
and crown J will perhaps be one day disowned by-
Jesus Christ in the face of heaven and earth. This
pastor, whom I considered as my guide in the way
to heaven, this pastor will himself experience all
the horrors of that state of which he gave me such
dreadful ideas. This husband, to whom providence
united me, this husband, whom I esteemed as part
of myself, I shall perhaps one day consider as my
most mortal foe, I shall acquiesce in bis damnation ; I
shall praise God, and say, Hallelujahypoiver belong-
eth unto the Lord our God ! true and righteous are
his judgments I Hallelujah^ thesmolceoftlie torment
of him, whose company once constituted my hap-
piness, shall rise up for ever and ever ! This
child, in behalf of whom I feel I exhaust all that
the power of love hath of tenderness, this child,
whose least cry pierces my soul, and who feels no.
pain without my feeling a thousand times more for
him, this child will be seized, with horror, when he
shall see coming in the clouds of heaven, surrounded
with holy angels, that Jesus, whose coming will
overwhelm me with joy ; this child will then seek

GfLJ^F W THE RIGHTEOUS,, &CU 381

refuge in dens> and caverns^ and chasms } he will
cry in agony of despair,, mountains and roeks^
fall on w£ and hide mc from the wrath of the
Lamb I He will be loaded vvitk chains of dark-
ness, he will be a prey to the worm that never dies,
and fuel for the fire that njever will be quenched ;
and when Jesus Christ shall say to me in that great
day, Com^ thou blessed of my Father y I shall hear
this dreadful sentence denounced against this child,
depart y thou cursed ^ into everlasting ^fire, prepared
for the devil and his angels. Too jnst a subject
of grief ! Rivers ofwatersy tears of love and pity,
run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy Law..

lU. So earnestly do I desire to have your atten-
tion fixed on the objects just now m.entioned, that
I shall hardly venture to finish the plan I proposed,
and to prQceed to a third plan of this discourse.
I wishiyoH were so alarmed, with the eternal misery
that threatens to overwhelm your fellow citizens
and- friends, your husbands and children^^ and so
employed to prevent it, that yoa were become as
it were insensible to the temporal ills to which the
enemies of Qod expose you. However, we do
not pretend that love to our neighbors should make
us forged what we owe ourselves. As the excesses
of the wicked made our prophet shed tears of cha-
rity, so they caused him to shed tears of self in-
teresti.

The wicked are the scourges of society. One
seditious person is often sufficient to disturb the
state; one factious spirit is often, enough to set a.
whole church in a flame ; one profligate child is
often enough to poison the pleasures of the most
happy and harmonious family. Good, people are
generally the butts of the wicked^ A wicked man
hates a goo4 man^ He hates him, when he hath

382 GRIEF Of tHE RIGHTEOUS^ tfC.

not the power to bart him, because he hath not
had the pleasure of hurting him; he hates him after
be hath injured him, because he considers him as a
roan always ready to revenge the affront offered
him ; and if he thinks him superior to revenge, he
hates him because he is incapable of vengeance,
and because the patience of the offended and the
rage of the offender form a contrast, which renders
the latter abominable in the eyes of all equitable,
people.

A good man, on the contrary, is happy in the
company of another good man. What country-
men feel when they meet in a foreign land, where
interests and customs, maxims and views, all dif-
ferent from those of the land of their nativity, re-
sembles the pleasure believers experience, when
they associate in a world, where they are only
strangers and pilgrims. Accordingly, one of the
most ardent wishes of our prophet, was to be air-
ways in company with people of this kind ; I am a
compniion of all thrm that fear thee, and of them,
that keep thy precepts^ said he to God. In ano-
ther place, / iviU early destroy all the ivicked of
the land, that I may cut off' all the wicked doers
from the city of the Lord. ' And again. All my
delight is in the excellent saints that are in the
earth.

But how few of these saints did he find ! Most
of his misfortunes were brought on him by the very
sinners whose depravity he deplores. They were
the poison of his life, and them he always saw
standing ready to persecute him, and to discharge
against his person the impotent malice they had
against that God, whose servant he considered it
as his glory to be.

Doth our age differ in this respect from that of
David ? Are saints more numerous now than they

PRIEF OF THS RIGHTEOUS, &C. 383

were then? May a good man promise himself
among you more approbation, more countenance^
and support, than the psalmist found ?

This is an odious question, and our doubts may
seem to you illiberal. Well, we will not press it.
But if the bulk of you be saints, this country must
be the most delicious part of the whole universe.
A good man must be as happy as it is possible to
be in this world. In these provinces, free by con-
stitution, opulent by trade, invincible by alliances,
and perfectly safe, by the nature of their govern^
ment, from tyrants and tyranny, if the number of
saints be greater in these provinces than that of the
wicked, it must be the most delicious of all resi-
dences in this world for a good man ; if he stumbles,
you will charitably save him from felling; if he errs,
you will patiently bear with him, and gently re-
claim him; if he be oppressed^ you will assist him
with firmness and vigor; if he form schemes of
piety, charity, and reformation, you will second
him with eagerness and zeal ; if he sacrifice his
health, and ease, and fortune for your good, you
will reward him with gratitude, yea with profusion.
May a good man promise himself all this among
you ? Alas ! to be only willing to devote himself to
truth and virtue, is often sufficient to cause him to
be beset round with a company of contradictors
and opposers. ,.

But we will not engage too deeply in such
gloomy reflections ; we will finish this discourse,
and can we finish it in a manner more suitable to
the emotions of piety that assembled you in this
solemn assembly, than by repeating the prayer
with which we began ? Almighty God ! whose
adorable judgments condemn us to wander in a val-
ley of trouble, and to live, sometimes to be united
by indissoluble ties, among men, who insolently

384 OKIEF 69 nt UmiTEOVSi &c.

brate tby cmnm&nds. Almighty Cod ! grant we
may be gathered to that holy society of blessed
spirits, who place their happiness in a perfect con-
formity to thine august laws !

The occupation of the blessed ill heaven, (and
this is one of the most beautiful images, under
which a man, who loves his God, can represent the
happiness of heaven) the employment of the blessed
in heaven is to serve God ; their delight is to serve
God ; the design of all the plans, and all the ac-
tions, and all the motions of the blessed in heaven^
is to serve Grod. And as the most laudable grief
of a believer in this unhappy woild, which sin makes
a theatre of bloody catastrophes, and an habitation
of maledictions, is, to see the unworthy inhabitants
violate the laws of their creator, so the purest joy
of the blessed is to see themselves in a society^
where all the members are always animated with a
desire to please God, always ready to fly where his
voice calls them, always collected in studying his
holy laws.

This is the society, to which you, my dear bre-
thren, are appointed ; you who, after the example
of Lot, vex your righteous souls from day to day^
at seeing the depravity of the world, you, I mean,
who shine as lights in the midst of a crooked and
perverse nation. Into that society those holy persons
are gone, whom death hath taken from us, and a
separation from whom hath caused so much sighs
and tears. Behold, faithful friend ! behold the com-
pany, where now resides that friend, to whom thy
soul was knit, as the soul of Jonathan was knit with
the soul of David ! See, thou weeping Joseph !
see that society where thy good father now is, that
good Jacob, whom thou didst convey to the grave
with tears so bitter, that the inhabitants of Canaan
called the place where thou didst deposit the body.

GRI&F OF THE RIGHTEOUS, &C. 385

AbeUMizraim^ a grievous mourning to the Egyp-
tians. Look, frail father ! look at that society,
there is thy son, at whose death thou didst exclaim^

Absalom^ my son, zvould God I had died for
thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! And you, too, -
distressed Rachels ! whose voices are heard, Idmenf-
2?ig, zveeping, and mourning, y^ef using to be coin-'

forted, because your children are not, see, behold
there in heaven are your children, the dear dbj^ciiSt
of your grief and your love !

Oh ! blessed are the dead that die in the Lord !

1 shall go to him, but he shall not return A? me.
Let us apply this thought of the prophet to our-
selves, and may the application we make serve for
a balm to heal tlie wounds which tlie loss of our
friends hath occasioned. They shall not return to
us, they shall never return to this society. What,

\ \ii society ! A society in which our life is nothing
^^ but a miserable round of errors and sins; a society
where the greatest saints are great sinners ; a so-
ciety in which we are often obliged to vcommunicate
with the enemies of God, with blasphemers of his
holy name, violaters of his august laws ! No, they
shall not return to us, and this is one consolation.
But, (and this is the other) but ive shall go to them.
They have done nothing but set one step before us
into eternity; the pleasures tliey enjoy are increased
by the hope of our shortly enjoying the same with
them. They, with the highest transports, behold
the mansions, which Jesus Christ hath prepared
for us in the house of his Father. I ascend unto
my Father and your Father, and to my God and
your God, said our divine Redeemer, to raise the
drooping spirits of his apostles, stunned with the
apprehension of his approaching death. This is
the language we have heard spoken, this is the de-
claration we have heard -made by each of those,
VOL. v. 3c'

366 GRIEF OF THE RIGHTEOUS^ &C.

ivhom we have had the consolation of seeing die
full of the peace of God, 1 ascend unto my Father
and your Father^ and to my God and your God.
O may we be shortly united in the bosom of this
adorable being with our departed friends, whose
conversation was lately so delightful to us, and
whose memory will always continue respected and
dear ! May we be united with the redeemed of
aU nations i and kindreds y and people, and tongues,
in the presence of the blessed God ! God grant us
this grace ! To him be honor and glory for ever.
Amen.

END OF THE FIFTH VOLUME.

If .

r

THE delivery of the two last Volumes of this Work,

has been delayed several months longer than was expected.

The death ofMK. Nichols,/^ whom the Editor retains

an affectionate remembrance y made it necessary to suspend

^^M.mnting ur^rw»arrUngem^Uj^^ ^

^arrespmSng with the four first Volumes already
published; this could not be done sooner. The Editor
regrets the temporary inconvenience his subscribers have
experienced by the delay ; but flatters himself that the
w^X^^abaoe. circumstances will be an acceptable apology.

-The Sixth Volume will be printed as soon as possible,
[-delivered to Subscribers gratis, agreeable to the con-r
Utions of subscription.

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