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OP   THE 

Theological    Seminary, 

PRINCETON,    N.  J. 

BX  6333  .S77  W6  1824  v  1 
Stennett,  Samuel,  1727-1795 
The  works  of  Samuel  Stennett 


J' 


A      DONATION 

FROM 


THE 


WORKS 


/ 

SAMUEL    ST  EN  NEXT,    D-D. 

late  pastor  of  the  cijristian  church  assembling  in  little  wild  street, 
Lincoln's  inn  fields,  London. 


NOW   FIRST   COLLECTED   INTO   A   BODY: 

WITH  SOME 

ACCOUNT  OF  HIS   LIFE  AND  WRITINGS. 
BY  WILLIAM  JONES, 

AIJTHOR  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH,  BIBLICAL  CVCLOPSDIA,  ETC. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  I. 

I.    SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  AUTHOR. — 11.    DISCOURSES  ON  PERSONAL 
RELIGION. 


LONDON: 
PRINTED  FOR  THOMAS  TEGG,  73,  CHEAPSIDE. 


1824. 


f  ^- 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS 


OF 


THE  AUTHOR. 


The  interesting  and  valuable  Works  of  the  late  Dr. 
Samuel  Stennett,  which  are  now  first  collected 
into  a  body,  and  presented  to  the  Public  in  a  uniform 
state,  cannot  fail  to  excite  in  the  minds  of  all  who 
peruse  them,  a  desire  to  be  furnished  with  some  au- 
thentic particulars  concerning  the  life  of  an  indivi- 
dual who  so  highly  adorned  his  profession ;  and 
whom  God  raised  up  and  qualified,  to  be  so  emi- 
nently useful  in  his  public  and  private  capacity.  We 
therefore  trust  the  following  brief  account  of  our 
author  will  not  be  found  wholly  devoid  of  interest, 
nor  prove  altogether  unacceptable  to  the  Reader. 

Dr.  Samuel  Stennett,  the  worthy  subject  of  our 
memoir,  was  a  native  of  Exeter,  where  his  father. 
Dr.  Joseph  Stennett,  the  pastor  of  a  Baptist  church 
in  that  city,  resided  many  years  *.    Endowed  by  na- 

*  Dr.  Samuel  Stennett,  the  worthy  subject  of  our  memoir,  descended 
from  pious  ancestors  who,  for  several  generations,  were  conspicuous  in 
the  churches  of  their  denomination  as  ministers  of  talent,  learning,  and 
piety. — His  great-grandfather  was  Dr.  Edward  Stennett,  a  physician, 
who  dwelt  in  the  castle  at  Wallingford,  in  Berkshire,  in  the  intolerant 
VOL.  I.  a 


Vi  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

tiire  with  every  gift  requisite  to  form  tlic  scholar  and 
the  gentleman,  our  author  applied  himself  closely  in 
his  early  years,  to  the  study  of  science  and  the  belles 
lettres. 

Being  designed  by  his  father  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  his  preparatory  studies  were  pursued  under 
the  direction  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hubbard,  an  eminent 
theological  tutor  residing  at  Stepney ;  and  Dr.  John 
Walker,  the  celebrated  Linguist  of  the  Academy  at 
Mile-end,  which  was  afterwards  removed  to  Homer- 
ton.  It  is  natural  to  conclude,  that  with  these  ad- 
vantages, his  attainments  in  learning  must  have  been 
very  considerable :  indeed  his  proficiency  in  Greek, 

reign  of  Charles  II.  He  regularly  preached  during  tliis  period  in  his  o'mi 
dwelling,  and  though  often  threatened  and  sometimes  in  great  danger, 
the  high  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  for  his  professional  services 
bv  the  gentlemen  of  his  neighbouriiood,  shielded  him  in  a  great  measure 
from  the  calamities  to  whicli  dissenting  ministers  in  those  days  were 
exposed.  His  son,  tlie  grandfather  of  oiir  author,  was  the  Rev.  Joseph 
Stennett,  wlio  for  twenty-three  years  was  pastor  of  the  Baptist  clmrch 
which  assembled  at  Pinner's  Hall,  London,  where  his  high  character  for 
piety,  talents,  and  learning,  procured  for  him  the  affectioriate  regard  of 
his  brethren,  the  dissenting  ministers  of  the  metropolis.  He  is  known 
to  the  religious  world  as  author  of  three  octavo  volumes  of  excellent* 
Sermons,  and  a  fourth  volume  containing  a  version  of  yolonion's  Song, 
Hymns  on  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Sujiper,  and  various  smaller  pieces  on 
miscellaneous  subjects.  Several  of  his  liymris  are  contained  in  the  col- 
lections of  hymns  now  used  for  public  worship.  His  son,  our  author's 
father,  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Stennett,  who,  in  the  early  part  of  his 
ministry,  was  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church  at  Exeter,  from  whence  he 
removed  to  London,  to  take  the  charge  of  the  church  in  Little  Wild 
Street,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  over  which  he  presided  until  his  death, 
raid  was  highly  esteemed,  not  only  by  the  principal  dissenting  ministers 
of  his  day,  but  also  by  many  of  the  leading  ministers  of  administration 
in  the  reign  of  George  II. ;  amongst  whom  the  celebrated  Speaker  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  Arthur  Onslow,  Esq.,  honoured  him  with  his 
particular  friendship. 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  Vll 

in  Latin,  in  tlie  oriental  tongues,  and  his  extensive 
acquaintance  with  sacred  literature,  are  so  abundant- 
ly displayed  in  his  valuable  works,  now  presented  to 
the  Public,  that  they  cannot  fail  to  establish  his  re- 
putation for  learning  and  genius.  To  his  eminent 
qualifications  as  a  scholar,  he  united  in  a  conspicuous 
degree  the  exterior  accomplishments  of  a  gentleman. 
The  urbanity  of  liis  manners,  tiie  natural  suavity  of 
liis  disposition,  the  perpetual  cheerfulness  and  en- 
tertainment of  his  conversation,  added  to  the  un- 
varying prudence  of  his  deportment,  caused  him  to 
be  admired  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  It  is 
not  surprising,  that  possessing  these  accomplishments 
our  author  should  have  early  enjoyed  an  extensive 
circle  of  acquaintance.  Tliey  procured  him  in  fact 
tlie  distinguished  notice  and  regard  of  many  persons 
in  high  and  lionourable  stations  of  life ;  and  if  ambi- 
tion had  been  his  idol,  he  doubtless  might  have  been 
one  of  her  successful  votaries.  In  no  other  way, 
however,  did  he  avail  himself  of  this  circumstance, 
than  as  it  increased  his  sphere  of  usefulness  in  pro- 
moting the  glory  of  God ;  for,  notwithstanding  he 
might  readily  have  obtained  preferment  in  the  Na- 
tional Establishment,  he  chose  rather  to  maintain  a 
good  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God ;  for  he  was  a 
dissenter  from  principle.  It  is  true,  he  had  the  de- 
gree of  Doctor  in  Divinity  conferred  upon  him,  in 
the  year  1703,  by  the  King's  College  and  University 
of  Aberdeen.  This  honour,  however,  was  neither  so- 
licited on  his  part,  nor  was  it  accompanied  by  any 
emolument.  Having  devoted  his  life  to  the  service  of 
God,  he  sought  not  the  honour  which  cometh  from 
men,  nor  did  the  possession  of  it  tend  in  any  degree 
to  lessen  his  exemplary  humility. 

a  'I 


VIU  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

We  are  not  in  possession  of  the  circumstances  at- 
tending Dr.  Stennett's  conversion,  but  it  is  apparent 
that  he  was  called  by  the  grace  of  God  to  a  saving 
knowledge  of  the  truth  in  early  life :  and  it  is  proba- 
ble that  the  following  hymn,  which  he  composed,  con- 
tains some  allusions  to  this  event : 

PRAISE  FOR  CONVERSION— PsAL.  i.xvi.  IG. 

1  Come,  ye  tliat  fear  the  Lord, 

And  listen,  while  I  tell 
How  narrowly  my  feet  esca})"(l 
The  snares  of  death  and  hell. 

2  The  flatt'ring  joys  of  sense 

Assail'd  my  foolish  heart, 
While  Satan,  with  malicious  skill, 
Guided  the  poisonous  dart. 

3  I  fell  heneath  the  stroke, 

But  fell  to  rise  again  : 
My  anguish  rous'd  me  into  life, 
And  pleasure  sprung  from  pain. 

4  Darkness  and  shame  and  grief 

Oppress'd  my  gloomy  mind ; 
I  look'd  around  me  for  relief, 
But  no  relief  could  find. 

5  At  length  to  God  I  cry'd ; 

He  heard  my  plaintive  sigli. 
He  heard,  and  instantly  lie  sent 
Salvation  from  on  high. 

6  My  drooping  head  he  rais'd, 

My  bleeding  wounds  he  heal'd, 
Pardon'd  my  sins,  and  with  a  smile, 
The  gracious  pai'don  seal'd. 

7  O  !  may  I  ne'er  forget 

The  mercy  of  my  God  ; 
Nor  ever  want  a  tongue  to  spread 
His  loudest  praise  abroad. 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  IX 

Our  aiitlior,  when  very  young,  was  baptized  by  his 
father,  A\'ho  liad  previously  removed  from  Exeter  to 
London,  wliere  he  continued  to  exercise  the  pastoral 
office  of  the  Baptist  church  in  Little  Wild  Street, 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields;  and  of  tliis  church  the  subject 
of  our  memoir  from  that  time  became  a  member. 
It  appears  from  a  reference  to  tiiei  church-books  of 
the  society  in  Little  Wild  Street,  that  Dr.  Josej)li 
Stennett,  the  father,  had  two  sons,  viz.  Joseph  and 
Samuel,  both  members  of  the  church  under  his  pas- 
toral care,  and  both  of  them  his  assistants  in  the 
work,  one  of  them  succeeding  the  other.  Jose})li 
Stennett,  the  elder  brother,  received  a  call  from  the 
church  to  assist  his  venerable  father,  on  the  2d  April 
171-0,  which  he  accepted,  and  continued  to  labour  in 
that  station  for  about  two  years  and  a  half,  when  he 
was  invited  by  the  Baptist  church  of  Coate,  in  Ox- 
fordshire, to  acce])t  the  pastoral  office  among  them, 
which  he  complied  with,  Sept.  1st,  17^3. 

It  seems  to  liave  been  about  four  years  after  this, 
tliat  Samuel,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  succeeded  to 
the  station  which  the  renioval  of  his  brother  had  left 
vacant,  as  appears  from  tlie  following  item,  in  the 
church  registry : — 

"  At  a  church-meeting  held  at  LiltL'  Wild  Street, 
July  30th,  1747, 

The  church  having  had  several  trials  oi'  the  gifts  of 
brother  Samuel  Stennett,  and  having  heard  him 
preach  this  evening,  it  is  agreed  that  he  be  called  out 
into  the  public  service  of  the  ministry."  And  on  the 
2itli  July,  17i8,  it  is  farther  recorded,  that  "  the 
church  having  had  opportunity  for  some  time  past  to 


X  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

partake  of  the  gifts  bestowed  on  brother  Samuel 
Stennett,  it  was  thought  very  advisable  to  call  him  to 
their  service,  as  an  assistant  to  the  pastor — whicli 
proposition  was  put  to  the  vote  and  carried  nem.  con.'* 

In  the  year  1758,  being  then  thirty-one  years  of 
age,  he  was  ordained  to  the  pastoral  office  of  that 
church,  as  successor  to  his  father,  having  previously 
officiated  about  ten  years  in  the  capacity  of  his  as- 
sistant. 

The  following  Letter  was  written  by  Dr.  Stennett 
to  the  church,  signifying  his  acceptance  of  the  pas- 
toral office,  and  having  never  before  been  submitted 
to  public  view,  it  is  here  inserted. 

To  the  Church  of  Christ,  meeting  in  Little  Wild  Street,  lately  under 
the  pastoral  care  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stennett. 

]\Iy  dear  Friends  and  Brethren! 

Your  very  aft'ectionate  letters  I  received,  and  take  this  tlie  eailiest 
opportunity  that  offers  of  acknowledging  my  grateful  sense  of  your  ten- 
der svnipatliy  Avith  me  in  my  affliction.  As  I  cannot  but  have  tlie  high- 
est honor  for  the  memory  of  my  dear  Ftither,  so  nothing  could  be  more 
pleasing,  or  serre  more  effectually  to  endear  you  to  me,  than  the  con- 
cern you  so  properly  express  on  this  mournful  occasion.  Nor  can  I,  my 
friends,  better  express  my  affection  for  you  (which  I  assure  you  is  very 
great)  than  by  deploring  the  loss  you  sustain,  and  mingling  my  toare  as 
an  afflicted  son  with  yours  as  a  sorrowful  and  destitute  people.  It  lias 
been  a  trying  time  indeed.  The  providence  of  God  has  by  one  stroke 
deprived  you  of  a  most  worthy  and  excellent  Pastor,  and  me  of  a  most 
prudent  and  tender  Parent — a  Parent  whose  life  was  peculiarly  dear  to 
me  on  account  of  his  great  and  undeserved  affection  for  me,  and  the 
liappy  advantages  I  reaped  from  his  daily  counsels  and  instructions. 
Not  to  say  what  I  have  felt  for  the  loss  of  a  dear  and  only  child. — But 
I  forbear.  Your  concern,  as  well  as  the  sensible  emotions  of  my  own 
breast  while  I  am  writing  to  you,  forbids  my  enlarging  any  farther  on 
this  melancholy  subject,  or  making  those  reflexions  upon  it  which  i;iight 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  TIJE  A^TIIOU.  XI 

otlierwise  be  naturally  expected.     May  the  awakening  dispensation  be 
sanctified  to  you,  to  me,  and  to  all ! 

Among  the  many  other  a2:3rav9.tions  of  my  affliction,  tlie  destitute 
circumstances  which  this  providence  has  left  you  in  has  been  no  incon- 
siderable one.  For,  ^'.  liile  it  has  given  you  an  opportunity  to  express 
that  aflection  for  me  which  I  shall  always  with  gratitude  acknowledge, 
it  l)as  occasioned  me  such  concern  and  distress  of  mind,  as  I  cannot  easily 
describe.  The  pastoral  oflice  I  have  long  since  trembled  at  the  very 
thought  of,  conscious  of  my  own  inequality  to  it,  and  sensible,  from  the 
little  observation  I  have  made,  of  the  dithculties  that  must  needs  attend 
it.  And  though  I  could  not  but  wish  my  poor  services  among  you 
might  prove  acceptable  and  useful,  yet  I  ^vell  hoped  to  have  been  ex- 
cused, at  least  for  some  years,  from  that  necessity  which  providence  and 
your  earnest  and  unanimous  solicitations  have  now  laid  me  under.  Duty 
to  God  therefore,  and  affection  to  you,  have  obliged  me  to  talve  into  the 
niost  serious  consideration  the  call  you  have  given  me.  And  vAth  ear- 
nest cries,  and  I  hope  a  lieart  in  some  degree  subjected  to  his  will,  I 
have  sought  God  in  this  important  affair :  while  I  have  with  pleasure 
been  assured  that  you  have  done  so  likewise.  And,  upon  the  whole, 
apprehending  it  to  be  my  duty,  I  do  now,  though  with  a  trembling  heart, 
remembering  the  greatness  of  the  sej-vice,  and  the  eminent  character  I 
succeed,  accept  your  invitation ;  fit  the  saine  time,  humbly  relying  on 
the  power  and  grace  of  God  for  that  assistance  whereby  I  may  be  ena- 
bled to  discharge  this  important  trust  with  faithfulness  and  success. 

My  dear  friends,  I  take  this  opportunity  to  express  the  pleasure  I 
feel  in  the  assurances  you  give  me  of  the  favorable  acceptance  my  poor 
laboi's  have  met  with  the  few  years  I  have  been  among  you.  Whatever 
success  may  have  attended  thorn,  I  v.'ould  with  you  ascribe  the  glorv  to 
God — to  that  God  Avho  can  render  the  meanest  endeavors  effectual  to 
the  salvation  of  the  immortal  souls  of  men.  Nor  can  I  forget  upon  this 
occasion,  to  return  you  my  hearty  and  unfeigned  thanks  for  all  the  rcr 
gards  you  have  hitherto  shewn  me,  and  for  the  very  kind  expressions  of 
your  readiness  to  make  the  future  part  of  my  life  easy  and  comfortable 
among  you. 

And  now,  bretlu-en,  I  earnestly  beg  your  most  fervent  prayers  on  my 
behalf;  that  God  who  is  the  author  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift, 
Avould  prepare  and  qualify  me  for  this  arduous  service  I  undertake — that 
he  would  grant  me  the  presence  and  assistance  of  his  Spirit  in  it ; — and 
tljat  he  would  crown  my  sincere  though  weak  attempts  with  his  hhij^i. 


Xll  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

ing  and  success.     And  it  is,  I  assure  you,  and  always  will  be,  my  prayer 

for  you,  that  the  God  of  peace,  who  brought  again  from  the  dead  our 

Lord  Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  thro'  the  blood  of  the 

everlasting  covenant,  may  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work  to  do 

Ills  will,  Avoi'king  in  you  that  which  is  well  pleasing  in  his  sight  through 

Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen. 

I  i-emain, 

Dear  Brethren, 

Your  most  sincere 

and  afFectiouate  friend  and  brother  in  Christ, 

K^    ^j  ,  ^„       .  Sam.  Stennett. 

iJarmolomeio  Close,  [ 

3Iay  bth,  1758.      j" 

His  ordination  took  place  on  the  1st  of  June,  and 
Dr.  Gill,  and  Mr.  Benjamin  Wallin,  preached  on  the 
occasion — one  addressing-  the  minister,  the  other  tlie 
people  ;  three  persons  were  at  the  same  time  invest- 
ed with  the  office  of  deacon.  Of  this  church  he  was 
an  ornament  for  more  than  fifty  years,  during  forty- 
seven  of  which,  he  exercised  the  ministerial  functions 
among  the  people  committed  to  his  charge. 

For  the  successful  discharge  of  the  duties  of  the 
pastoral  office.  Dr.  Stennett  was  eminently  quali- 
fied. Such  was  the  affability  of  his  disposition,  that 
he  was  ever  ready,  when  occasion  required  it,  to  ac- 
commodate himself  to  the  meanest  understanding ; 
and  his  unwearied  zeal  prompted  him  to  neglect  no 
opportunity  of  administering  assistance  and  consola- 
tion to  the  poor,  to  the  sick,  and  to  the  dying.  He 
generously  relieved  their  temporal  wants,  and  im- 
plored, with  fervent  supplications,  the  Father  of  mer- 
cies in  their  behalf.  As  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  his 
labours  were  highly  beneficial  to  tlie  church.  He 
boldly  maintained  in  his  discourses  the  peculiar  doc-^ 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XiH 

trines  of  Christianity,  which  were  the  Hfe  of  his  own 
soul — exliorting,  comforting,  warning,  directing  his 
flock — fervent  and  himible  in  his  supplications  to  t]ie 
throne  of  grace — administering  the  ordinances  with 
striking  solemnity — expounding  the  word  of  God  in 
a  pleasing  and  familiar  manner,  in  the  private  meet- 
ings of  the  church — and  maintaining  order  and 
unanimity  in  all  their  assemblies  for  deliberation. 
Upon  all  occasions  when  his  advice  or  assistance 
was  sought,  he  was  frank,  open,  and  accessible.  He 
sought  to  restore  the  backslider,  establish  the  unset- 
tled, and  reclaim  the  wandering  of  his  flock.  He 
kept  back  nothing  from  them  in  the  way  of  doctrine, 
that  was  profitable :  but  shewed  them,  and  taught 
them,  publicly  and  from  house  to  house,  testifying 
repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  towards  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  he  was  the  means 
of  introducing  into  public  life  some  eminent  indi- 
viduals whom  he  educated  in  his  own  house  ;  and 
whose  talents  and  learning  redounded  greatly  to  his 
credit,  and  that  of  the  cause  they  espoused.  The  di- 
versity of  his  other  engagements,  subsequently  pre- 
vented him  from  continuing  this  occupation.  He 
never  ceased,  however,  to  take  the  most  lively  con- 
cern in  the  interests  of  the  Baptist  denomination  to 
whicli  he  belonged,  and  which  can  boast  few  brighter 
ornaments.  His  brethren  regarded  him  as  a  person 
every  way  well  qualified  to  heal  any  difference  that 
might  unhappily  arise  amongst  tliem ;  for,  to  an 
amiable  disposition,  he  united  a  sound  imderstanding, 
remarkable  for  its  correctness  of  judgment.  It  was 
his  study  and  delight  to  promote  peace  and  brotherly 


XIV  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

love  in  tlie  clmrclies,  and  God  made  liim  eminently 
instrumental,  in  many  instances,  in  bringing  about 
eo  desirable  an  end,  If  the  clmrclies  Avere  at  rest, 
and  edified  ;  and,  walking  in  the  fear  of  the  Loid,  and 
the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  were  midtiplied,  no 
man  felt  greater  pleasure  than  he  did,  or  manifested 
jnore  lieartfelt  sorrow  at  tlie  contrary  appearances. 

But  our  author  did  not  confine  his  good  offices 
and  exertions  solely  to  benefit  the  particular  denor 
mination  to  which  he  belonged.  On  the  contrary, 
he  laboured  assiduously  to  promote  the  interests  of 
dissenters  of  all  classes,  and  availed  himself  of  the 
advantages  lie  enjoyed  through  an  intercoui^se  with 
the  higher  circles,  of  life,  to  obtain  objects  of  considerr 
able  importance  towards  the  extension  of  religious 
liberty.  He  Avisely  concluded,  that  whilst  oppressive 
statutes  Avere  suffered  to  remain  as  part  of  the  law  of 
the  land,  there  could  be  no  security  against  their 
proving  at  some  future  time  a  handle  for  persecution. 
The  Doctor's  judicious  publications  upon  these  sub- 
jects, cannot  fail  to  keep  alive  a  grateful  recollection 
of  his  talents,  and  to  endear  his  name  to  posterity. 

In  his  private  life,  Dr.  Stennett  was  a  lively  iur 
stance  of  the  amiable  and  blessed  fruits  of  genuine 
and  experimental  religion.  He  set  the  Lord  always 
before  him — had  habitual  recourse  to  prayer — and 
wallvcd  with  God — was  ever  ready  to  forgive  injuries, 
and  disposed  to  put  the  best  construction  upon  the 
actions  of  other  people.  He  had  an  utter  dislike  to 
hear  any  one  evil  spoken  of,  and  upon  such  occasions 
occurring,  he  would  remark,  "  See,  now,  if  you  paUr 
not  tell  soinetlnng  good  of  that  person," 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XV 

As  a  husband,  a  father,  and  the  master  of  a  fa- 
mily, his  deportment  was  alike  upright  and  exem- 
plary. It  was  his  felicity  to  be  united  in  early  life  to 
an  excellent  woman,  with  whom  he  lived  in  close  and 
uninterrupted  affection.  Mrs.  Stennett  was  a  lady 
of  unaffected  piety  and  good  nature,  and  they  walked 
together  as  heirs  of  the  grace  of  life  for  upwards  of 
forty  years.  The  acknowledgment  of  God  in  their 
family,  met  with  an  ample  reward.  That  tender 
love,  and  Christian  solicitude,  which  tliey  uniformly 
displayed  for  their  children,  of  v/hom  they  had  two, 
a  son  and  daughter,  were  requited  with  recipro- 
cal affection ;  and  they  had  the  happiness  of  seeing 
them  walk  in  the  ways  of  God,  and  their  son  a 
preacher  of  the  gospel.  Their  regard  to  the  com- 
fort, but  especially  to  the  spiritual  welfare,  of  the  do- 
mestics of  their  family,  was  productive  of  the  happiest 
effect.  This  was  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  case 
of  a  dissolute  youth,  whom  the  Doctor  took  into  his 
service  at  the  request  of  an  aged  member  of  his 
church,  the  boy's  aunt,  and  whose  conversion  was 
hajjpily  brought  about  by  an  attendance  on  his  family 
worship.  This  man  afterwards  became  an  exemplary 
character,  and  a  member  of  the  church  in  Little 
Wild  Street. 

The  death  of  Mrs.  Stennett,  which  happened  on  the 
l6th  March  1795,  was  an  event  that  was  shortly  suc- 
ceeded by  his  OAvn  removal.  That  patient  submis- 
sion to  the  divine  will,  which  he  had  previously  dis- 
played during  a  variety  of  trying  afflictions,  did  not 
forsake  him  on  this  most  affecting  occasion.  The  dis- 
solution, hovvever,  of  a  long  and  endeared  connection, 
was  the  removal  of  the  link  which  attached  him  to 


XVI  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

tills  life.  He  frequently  after  that  event  expressed 
his  coiivietion  that  "  tlie  time  of  his  dei)arture  was 
at  hand."  He  returned  indeed  to  the  duties  of  his 
ministry  with  redoubled  diligence,  as  if  aware  that  the 
night  was  fast  coming  when  he  could  no  longer  work  ; 
and  it  was  with  difiiculty  he  could  he  restrained  from 
such  over  exertion  as  would  have  proved  immediately 
detrimental  to  his  health.  His  retired  hours  were 
now  chiefly  devoted  to  meditation  on  the  Bible,  and 
to  poetry,  an  art  for  which  he  had  throughout  life 
evinced  a  great  predilection. 

Dii.  Stennett's  residence  was  for  several  years  at 
Muswell  Hill,  a  pleasant,  rural  retreat,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Highgate,  about  six  miles  from  the  city, 
and  the  praises  of  it  he  has  recorded  in  the  following 
poem  ;  and  which  we  give  as  a  specimen  of  his  talents 
in  that  delightful  art : 

Tir'd  of  tlie  world's  incps-sant  noise, 
And  sick  of  all  its  flatt'riiig  joys  ; 
I  liail  the  day,  I  bless  the  Inniv, 
That  brings  me  to  my  rural  bower. 
In  sweet  reflection  here  I  sit, 
And  here  enjoy  the  soft  retreat : 
Ascend  tlie  little  flowery  mount, 
And  there  life's  weaiy  steps  recount ; 
Then  cast  my  cheerful  eyes  arouixi, 
O'er  distant  hills,  and  mo«sy  ground ; 
O'er  fields  attir'd  in  verdant  green, 
Enraptur'd  with  the  pleasing  scene  : 
The  fleecy  sheep,  and  harnsless  lambs, 
Tliat  sportive  play  about  their  tlams ; 
The  violets,  flowers,  and  slnubs  that  rise, 
Aii(i  taller  trees  that  tempt  the  skies : 
Ail  strive  to  make  me  happy  ]me, 
Il-.-.ppy,  without  an  anxious  care  ; 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XVll 

Strive  to  diivct  my  tliou^litful  breast, 

Aiul  soot'.it'  iiiy  passions  into  rest; 

Soften'd  by  nature's  silent  voice, 

And  sooth'd  by  tbese  her  artless  joys, 

I  fee!  my  soul  prepard  to  hear, 

What  Heaven  may  whisper  in  my  ear. 

'Twas  in  the  evening  of  the  day, 

When  tlie  bright  sun's  declining  ray, 

DaiteU  its  light  thro'  Eden's  trees, 

Waving  their  tops  witli  gentle  bieeze  : 

'Twas  then  the  God  that  dwells  on  high, 

DeigTi'd  to  descend  from  yonder  sky. 

And  in  a  form  divinely  sweet. 

To  own  and  bless  that  fair  retreat. 

There  He  had  used  to  walk,  and  there. 

To  entertain  the  happy  pair. 

With  new  discoveries  of  his  will, 

And  joys  that  none  but  angels  feel. 

Oh !  would  lie  deign  to  visit  me, 

In  mercy  mixed  with  majesty ; — 

Deign  when  I  Avalk  in  evening  shade, 

Beneath  those  bowers  his  hand  hath  made. 

To  whisper  in  my  listening  ear, 

That  well  known  voice  I  long  to  Itear — 

"  Thy  many  sins  are  all  forgiven. 

Thy  worthless  name  is  writ  in  heaven  ;" — 

The  raptur'd  news  I'd  spread  around. 

The  woods  should  echo  back  the  sound : 

I'd  write  liis  name  on  every  tree. 

And  tell  the  world  his  love  to  me. 

This  sweet,  this  fair,  enchanting  spot. 

Should  never,  never,  be  forgot : 

My  friends,  my  neighbours,  all  should  know 

There  is  a  pai'adise  below. 

Dr.  Stennett's  last  two  discourses  were  particular- 
ly striking  and  impressive.  The  first,  on  Christ  as  a 
High-Priest  "  touched  with  the  feelings  of  our  infir- 
mities," was  the  result  of  his  meditations  during  a 
sleepless  niglit  the  week  preceding  its  delivery ;  hut 


XVlll  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

a  night  so  comfortable,  he  coiifessetl;  as  he  liad  never 
before  enjoyed  in  his  life. — The  perfect  knOAvledge 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  had  of  his  wants,  the  tender  care 
lie  exercises,  and  the  sufferings  he  so  freely  under- 
went, were  the  subject  of  his  astonisliment  and  pro- 
found admiration.  No  one  ^^'ho  knew  Dr.  Stennett 
could  suspect  him  to  be  deficient  in  exalted  senti- 
ments of  the  Redeemer ;  yet  he  declared  that  all  he 
had  hitherto  conceived  and  preaclied  concerning  Je- 
sus, appeared  to  him  as  nothing  in  comparison  with 
what  he  then  experienced :  And  hence  he  exhorted 
his  people  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  whicli 
was  the  close  of  his  ministry,  *'  to  come  boldly  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  that  they  miglit  obtain  mercy,  and 
find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need." 

His  health  began  to  decline  a  few  months  after  the 
loss  of  Mrs.  Stennett,  and  prevented  the  continuance 
of  his  ministerial  labours.  But  his  love  to  his  flock 
suftered  no  abatement.  He  desired  a  friend  to  tell 
them  "  that  he  loved  them  all  in  the  Lord,  and  that 
the  truths  he  had  preached,  were  his  only  consolation 
in  the  hour  of  death."  The  temper  and  comfort  of 
his  mind  in  his  illness,  were  displayed  in  several  little 
incidents,  which  cannot  be  otherwise  than  pleasing, 
since  they  prove  that  he  continued  to  experience  in 
the  midst  of  his  afflictions  *'  that  the  Lord  was  indeed 
gracious."  Before  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  he 
prayed  one  evening  in  his  fiimily,  in  a  manner  which 
deeply  impressed  all  present,  "  that  God  might  give 
an  easy  passage  out  of  life."  And  God  granted  him 
his  request.  Some  vinegar  and  other  ingTcdients 
being  given  to  him  as  a  gargle  for  his  throat,  he  said, 
A\'ith  great  emotion,   which  shewed  his  thoughts  were 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  xix 

directed  toAvards  Jesus,  "  And  in  his  thirst  they  gave 
him  vinegar  to  drink'.  Oh  !  vdien  I  reflect  upon  tlie 
sufferings  of  Christ,  I  am  ready  to  say,  wliat  have  I 
heen  tliinking  of  all  my  life  ?  They  arc  now  my  only 
support  ;'*  and  he  added,  respecting  those  tenets, 
which  he  greatly  ahhorred,  hecause  they  tended  to 
degi'ade  Christ's  person  and  atonement,  "  what  should 
I  do  now,  if  I  had  only  sucli  opinions  to  support  me." 
Taking  his  daughter  by  the  hand,  he  said,  *'  where- 
fore he  is  able  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost  that 
come  unto  God  by  him — ^he  is  able  to  keep  that  which 
I  have  committed  unto  him  against  that  day."  To 
liis  son  who  came  to  see  him,  and  who  at  that  time 
was  also  very  ill,  he  said,  "  My  son,  God  hath  done 
great  things  for  us.  He  is  very  gracious  to  us,  I  can 
leave  myself  and  my  family  with  him."  Upon  another 
occasion,  he  repeated  this  verse  of  a  charming  hymn 
which  he  had  formerly  composed, 

Fatlier  at  thy  call  I  come  ;  ' 

In  thy  bosom  there  is  room 
For  a  guilty  soul  to  hide, 
Pre.ss'd  with  grief  on  every  side. 

In  short,  all  that  he  uttered  indicated  the  serenity 
of  his  mind,  that  he  was  happy  in  God,  and  that  the 
ground  of  his  happiness  was  the  love  of  God,  his  Sa- 
viour, in  laying  down  his  life  for  us.  *'  Other  founda- 
tions," as  he  expressed  it  with  energy,  "  can  no  man 
lay,  than  that  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ.  His 
name  is  as  ointment  poured  forth.  Oh !  he  is  the 
chief  among  ten  thousand,  and  altogether  lovely." 
He  was  deprived  of  the  power  of  utterance  a  few 
hours  before  his'departure  ;  but  he  died  in  a  tranquil 
and  easy  manner,  gently  falling  asleep  in  Jesus,  Aug. 
Sith,  179.5,  in  the  GSth  year  of  his  age. 


XX  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

He  left  behind  him  an  affectionate  son  and  daugh- 
ter, viz.  the  Rev.  Joseph  Stennett  and  Miss  Ehzabeth 
.Stennett,  in  both  of  ^yhom  he  had  "  inexpressible  sa- 
tisfaction." His  remains  were  deposited  in  his  family 
vault  in  Bunhill  Fields,  in  which  Mrs.  Stennett,  his 
beloved  wife,  had  been  interred  but  a  few  months 
before  him.  The  pall  was  supported  by  the  following 
ministers ;  Dr.  Kippis  and  Dr.  Rees,  of  the  Presby- 
terian, Mr.  Brewer  and  Mr.  Towle,  of  the  Indepen- 
dent, Mr.  Martin  and  Dr.  Jenkins,  of  the  Baptist 
connection.  The  funeral  sermon  was  preached  6th 
Sept.  171)'- 5  hy  Dr.  Jenkins,  who  had  himself  been 
a  mem])er  of  the  church  in  Little  Wild  Street, 
and  by  them  called  to  the  ministry  of  the  gospel, 
from  1  John  iii.  iG.  and  a  peculiarly  solemn  and 
interesting  address  was  delivered  by  Mr.  Booth  at 
the  place  of  interment.  The  sermon  and  address 
were  afterwards  published  at  the  request  of  the 
chiirch,  who  not  only  engaged  to  defray  the  expenses 
of  publication,  but  also  took  upon  themselves  to  con- 
duct the  funeral  and  support  the  whole  expense  at- 
tending it. 

The  loss  of  such  an  eminent  character  as  Dr.  Sten- 
nett, was  deeply  regretted,  not  only  by  all  the  Baptist 
churches  throughout  the  kingdom,  but  also  by  many 
most  respectable  persons  of  the  other  denominations 
of  Protestant  Dissenters,  and  also  of  the  National 
Establishment.  John's  eulogy  concerning  one  of  the 
best  men  in  apostolic  times,  was  pronounced  to  be 
applicable  to  his  memory  in  every  circle  of  the  godly  ; 
*'  Demetrius  hath  a  good  report  of  all  men,  and  of 
the  truth  itself;  yea,  and  Ave  also  bear  record,  and 
ye  know  that  our  record  is  true." 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXl 

The  following  brief  sketch  of  the  character  of  Dr. 
Stennett  appeared  in  the  Protestant  Dissenters'  Ma- 
gazine, Vol.  II.  p.  367,  &c.  It  was  drawn  up  by 
his  friend  Dr.  Winter,  and  comprises  so  handsome  a 
tribute  to  his  memory  that  it  would  be  unjust  to  with- 
hold it  on  the  present  occasion.  The  candid  reader 
will  readily  excuse  the  repetition  of  an  idea  on  a  sub- 
ject of  this  kind  : — 

"  On  Tuesday,  August  25th,  1795,  died  at  his 
**  house  on  Muswell  Hill,  in  the  68th  year  of  his  age, 
"  the  Rev.  Samuel  Stennett,  D.  D.  a  respectable  and 
^*  eminent  Protestant  Dissenting  minister,  of  the 
"  Baptist  denomination.  His  father  and  his  grand- 
"  father  had  been  deservedly  celebrated  in  the  begin- 
*'  ning  and  middle  of  the  present  century  under  the 
"  same  character.  To  be  descended  from  such  men, 
"  as  well  as  to  be  able  in  the  line  of  his  ancestry  to 
"  trace  some,  who  for  the  cause  of  liberty  and  religion 
*'  had  quitted  their  native  country,  and  their  tem- 
*'  poral  possessions  at  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of 
"  Nantz,  he  accounted  a  far  higher  honour,  than  to  be 
"  the  offspring  of  nobles  or  of  monarchs.  But  the 
"  excellencies  of  Dr.  Stennett's  character  were  not 
**  merely  relative.  His  was  not  a  borrowed  lustre, 
"  reflected  from  the  virtues  of  his  progenitors,  but  a 
**  character  which,  independent  of  all  external  con- 
**  nections,  of  the  value  of  which  he  was  however 
"  deeply  sensible,  beamed  forth  its  native  goodness  in 
"  the  view  of  the  world. 


"  His  mind  was  remarkably  formed  for  weighing 
**  with  impartiality  the  various  questions  proposed  to 
"  its  attention.     His  enquiries  were  always  directed 

VOL.  I.  h 


XXri  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

*'  by  evidence,  and  limited  by  tbe  nature  of  tlie  sub- 
"  jects,  on  which  they  were  engaged.  Through  Hfe 
*'  lie  pursued  truth  with  avidity.  And  having  arrived 
"  at  what  he  deemed  a  satisfactory  conviction  of  it, 
*'  he  was  at  once  firm  in  his  own  opinions,  and  candid 
*'  in  the  allowance  he  made  for  the  different  reason- 
"  ings  of  others.  It  was  still  more  to  his  honour, 
"  that  he  was  a  most  sincere  and  zealous  friend  of 
"  vital  religion,  and  estimated  the  importance  of  re- 
*'  ligious  opinions,  principally  from  their  tendency  to 
"  advance  its  great  and  eternal  interests.  Deeply 
*'  had  he  imbibed  the  genuine  temper  of  his  divine 
*'  Master.  Piety  and  zeal,  compassion  and  benevo- 
"  lence  reigned  in  his  mind,  and  diffused  their  in- 
"  fluence  through  his  whole  behaviour. 

"  In  his  family,  authority  was  so  tempered  with 
*'  friendship,  that  while  its  energy  was  increased,  its 
"  appearance  was  scarcely  to  be  discerned.  The  se- 
*'  rene  piety,  the  cheerful  benevolence,  the  improving 
"  intercourse,  the  generous  hospitality,  wliicli  digni- 
*'  fied  his  favourite  residence  at  Muswell  Hill,  will 
"  dwell  on  the  recollection  of  many  with  melancholy 
"  pleasure.  No  longer  since  than  last  March,  a 
*'  breach  was  made  on  the  happiness  of  his  domestic 
*'  circle  by  the  death  of  Mrs.  Stennett,  an  event  which 
*'  he  felt  as  a  man  of  tender  affections,  but  which  he 
*'  supported  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  Christian. 

"  In  his  social  connections,  he  was  the  wise  adviser, 
"  the  cheerful  companion,  the  instructive  and  affec- 
"  tionate  friend.  To  the  denomination  of  Cln-istians 
"  to  which  he  belonged,  he  was  properly  and  warmly 
"attached J    and  its  interests   not  in  this  kingdom 


AXD  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXIU 

"  only,  but  in  diiferent  parts  of  the  world  engaged 
"  much  of  his  attention.  But  he  was  also  alive  to 
*'  the  general  interests  of  the  Protestant  Dissenters, 
"  and  to  the  cause  of  evangelical  religion  among  all 
"  parties.  Well  did  he  know  how  to  distinguish  be- 
"  tween  the  narrowness  of  bigotry,  which  never  looks 
"  out  of  its  own  contracted  circle,  and  that  cool  in- 
"  difference  to  religious  principles,  which  under  the 
*'  specious  names  of  candour  and  liberality  has  too 
*'  much  prevailed  among  many  modern  Christians. 
*'  His  connections  were  large  and  respectable,  not 
"  only  among  Protestant  dissenters  of  various  descrip- 
*'  tions,  but  with  the  members  of  the  established 
"  church.  All  who  have  been  made  to  drink  into  the 
"  spirit  of  Christ,  he  loved  as  brethren,  however  they 
*'  differed  from  him  in  opinions  respecting  inferior 
*'  matters,  relative  to  doctrine,  worship,  or  discipline. 

"  He  received  his  education  for  the  ministry  under 
"  the  tuition  principally  of  Mr.  Hubbard  at  Stepney, 
"  The  proficiency  which  he  made  in  different  branch- 
"  es  of  literature,  in  those  especially,  which  more  im- 
"  mediately  regarded  the  sacred  profession  he  had  in 
"  view,  was  very  considerable.  His  mind  was  always 
*'  bent  on  improvement,  and  not  only  while  he  was  a 
*'  student  at  the  academy,  but  in  every  succeeding 
*'  stage  of  life  it  received  very  considerable  enlarge- 
"  ment  with  every  year. 

"  During  the  space  of  thirty-seven  years  he  was  the 
*'  affectionate  and  faithful  pastor  of  the  Baptist  church 
*'  in  Little  Wild  Street.  In  this  office  he  was  the  im- 
"  mediate  successor  of  his  father,  having  for  some 
*'  time  before  been  his  assistant  in  the  same  congre- 


XXlV  SO:\IE  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

"  gation.  To  those  who  were  thus  closely  associated 
*'  with  him  he  was  particularly  dear.  His  friends  who 
"  had  advanced  into  life  with  him  felt  their  attach- 
"  ment  to  him  increase  with  their  experience  of  his 
*'  worth.  The  younger  memhers  of  his  church,  and 
"  the  rising  families  of  his  friends,  while  they  reve- 
"  renced  his  superior  wisdom  and  piety,  loved  him  as 
*'  a  most  affectionate  parent.  In  the  puljjit  he  ap- 
"  peared  as  in  his  proper  element.  The  suhjects  on 
"  which  he  addressed  his  auditory  he  had  thoroughly 
"  examined  on  every  side.  The  consequence  was, 
"  his  ideas  were  remarkably  clear  and  distinct,  and 
*'  his  arrangement  calculated  to  assist  the  memory, 
*'  and  to  improve  the  understanding.  Few  preachers 
**  knew  better  than  Dr.  Stennett  how  to  blend  argu- 
"  ment  with  pathos,  how  to  convince  the  judgment, 
"  and  to  touch  the  finest  feelings  of  the  heart ;  his  dis- 
"  courses  were  at  once  rational  and  affectionate — and 
"  what  stamps  on  them  the  highest  character,  they 
**  were  scriptural.  Large  was  his  acquaintance  with 
"  revealed  religion — from  that  hallowed  source  he 
"  had  skill  to  derive  whatever  could  inform,  aAvaken, 
*'  comfort,  and  invigorate.  And  as  he  never  entered 
"  the  pulpit  without  deeply  feeling  the  importance  of 
"  the  work  in  which  he  was  about  to  engage,  so  he 
*'  spoke  from  the  heart.  He  was  evidently  interested 
"  to  a  very  high  degree  in  the  welfare  of  his  hearers, 
*'  and  it  was  his  desire,  his  prayer,  his  labour,  that  they 
"  might  be  saved.  This  inspired  him  with  that  sort 
"  of  eloquence  which  insensibly  wins  on  the  mind — 
*'  In  comforting  the  afflicted,  and  encouraging  the 
*'  weak,  there  was  a  soothing  tenderness,  not  in  his 
"  language  only,  but  in  his  delivery,  which  was  well 
*'  adapted  to  gain  their  attention,  by  convincing  them 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXV 

that  the  preacher  deeply  felt  for  their  happiness  ; 
'  and  though  this  was  perhaps  his  particular  fort,  yet 
'  at  other  times,  when  he  was  reasoning  witli  the  op- 

*  poser  of  religion,   expostulating  with  the  careless 
'  and  indifferent,  and  urging  the  slothful  to  activity 

*  and  diligence,  there  was  an  animation  and  energy  in 
'  his  attitude  and  his  countenance  which  added  grace 

*  to  his  most  forcible  exhortations.     His  brethren  in 

*  the  ministry,  especially  his  younger  brethren,  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  look  up  to  him  as  their  ad- 
viser, and  who  Avere  encouraged  to  converse  with 
him  in  all  the  confidence  of  friendship,  have  sus- 
tained an  irreparable  loss.  Nor  did  he  confine 
these  expressions  of  regard  to  his  own  party.  With 
young  ministers  of  other  denominations  he  convers- 
ed as  freely  as  with  those  of  his  own.  It  is  gi-eatly 
to  his  honour,  that  in  these  priestly  intercourses  he 
constantly  kept  out  of  sight  the  few  subjects  of  a  re- 
ligious nature  on  which  they  had  formed  different 
opinions  from  him.  Never  did  he  make  the  small- 
est effort  to  gain  them  to  his  own  denomination. 
His  generous  mind  scorned  to  take  such  an  advan- 
tage of  the  influence  which  his  knowledge,  charac- 
ter, and  friendship  had  over  them.  The  Avi'iter  of 
this  article  in  a  close  acquaintance,  and,  if  he  may 
presume  to  say  so,  an  intimate  friendship  with  Dr, 
Stennett  for  more  than  twelve  years,  recollects  not 
an  instance  in  which  he  brought  forward  in  conver- 
sation any  of  the  few  subjects  on  which  they  differ- 
ed. But  on  a  variety  of  other  topics,  amusing  and 
instructive,  historical,  political,  religious,  his  con- 
versation was  a  source  of  pleasure  and  profit,  which 
will  not  soon  or  easily  be  erased  from  the  me- 
mory. 


XXVI  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

*'  What  he  was  as  an  author  the  pubUc  liave  long 
"  known.  He  stood  forth  occasionally  as  the  friend 
*'  of  liberty  and  good  order,  and  happy  would  it  have 
*'  been  for  the  world,  had  a  prudence  similar  to  his 
"  prevailed  in  all  parties  of  political  wi-iters. 

*'  Once  he  engaged  in  controversy  on  the  long  agi- 
**  tated  question  of  baptism,  and  certainly  shewed 
"  himself  a  master  of  the  subject — Nor  will  the  praise 
*'  of  perspicuity  and  arrangement,  solidity  of  reason- 
*'  ing,  zeal  in  supporting  the  firm  convictions  of  his 
*'  mind,  or  candour  to  those  whose  sentiments  were 
*'  different  from  his  own,  be  denied  him  by  any  reader, 
*'  whatever  be  his  views  of  the  institution  on  which 
*'  he  wrote. 

"  As  a  practical  writer,  however,  he  was  undoubt- 
"  edly  most  eminent  and  most  useful — Besides  many 
*'  excellent  sermons  on  particular  occasions,  his  two 
*'  volumes  on  Persoiial  Relic/ion,  his  Discourses  on 
*'  Domestic  Duties ^  his  Sermons  mi  the  Parable  of  the 
**  Sower y  and  on  the  Inspiration  of  the  Sc7'iptiireSy 
*'  have  not  only  done  him  great  credit  as  an  author, 
*'  but  what  is  of  infinitely  greater  importance,  have 
"  been  of  unspeakable  service  in  the  world,  and  espe- 
*'  cially  to  the  rising  generation. 

"  Soft  and  tranquil  was  the  evening  of  his  days. 
*'  A  disorder  of  a  few  weeks  continuance  brought  him 
*'  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living — Resignation, 
*'  gratitude,  and  hope  dwelt  in  his  heart — His  family 
"  and  his  church  he  committed  to  him  who  has  said, 
"  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  iciU  preserve  them. 
"  His  immortal    interests  had    long   been   secure — 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXVll 

*'  hx  the  cheerful  expectation  of  immortality,  and 
"  founding  that  expectation  on  the  promises  of  the 
"  gospel,  and  the  sacrifice  of  the  Mediator,  he  ^vaited 
"  with  patience  the  moment  of  his  discharge — that 
"  moment  at  length  arrived — and  his  Aveeping  family 
"  and  his  afflicted  friends,  amidst  all  their  painful 
"  sensations,  could  not  but  feel  the  happy  influence  of 
*'  those  rich  consolations  with  which  Christianity  in 
"  such  scenes  has  furnished  her  votaries.  Absent 
**  fi'om  the  body,  he  is  present  with  the  Lord.  Blessed 
"  is  that  servant^  whom  his  Lord  when  he  cometh  shall 
^^find  so  doing,'* 

It  now  only  remains  to  take  some  notice  of  Dr. 
Stennett  in  the  capacity  of  an  author,  and  of  the  nu^ 
merous  productions  of  his  pen  with  which  he  has  en- 
riched the  churcli  of  God.  But,  so  many  were  his 
excellencies  in  this  respect,  that  it  would  not  be  easy 
for  any  biographer  to  do  him  justice.  *'  His  own 
works  shall  praise  him  iji  the  gates." 

If  we  carefully  examine  his  style  we  shall  find  his 
compositions  characterized  by  the  highest  qualities  of 
good  Avi-iting:  insomuch  that  we  think  it  Avould  be 
difficult  for  a  young  minister  to  select  a  better  model 
for  imitation.  He  was  a  perfect  master  of  the  English 
language,  and  from  his  earliest  appearance  as  an  au- 
thor, had  accustomed  himself  to  such  accuracy  both 
in  preaching  and  writing,  that  he  rarely  allowed  a 
careless,  inelegant,  or  negligent  expression  to  escape 
him  on  any  occasion.  His  mind  was  enriched  with 
a  cojna  verhorum^  and  this  enabled  him  uniformly  to 
clothe  his  ideas  in  the  most  appropriate  terms.  Per- 
spicuity is  a  prominent  feature  in  his  style  of  writing  j 


XXVlll  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

for,  not  only  can  his  meaning  be  understood,  but  it  is 
SO  happily  expressed  upon  every  occasion,  that  it 
would  need  some  pains  to  misunderstand  him.  Yet 
his  language  is  as  remarkable  for  a  chastened  simpli- 
city as  it  is  for  any  other  property.  We  never  find 
Dr.  Stennett  going  in  quest  of  the  sesquipadalia  ver- 
ba ;  there  is  no  affected  strut,  no  deep  imposing 
sound,  no  great  swelling  words  of  vanity  introduced 
into  his  periods  for  the  sake  of  display :  his  prose  is 
the  prose  of  Addison,  and  while  it  is  level  to  the 
capacity  of  the  unlettered  reader,  it  is  never  slovenly 
or  inelegant.  It  is  always  the  best  adapted  to  the 
subject  of  which  he  is  treating,  and  we  should  find  it 
difficult  in  any  instance  to  remove  a  word  and  re- 
place it  with  a  better. 

And  if  from  a  consideration  of  his  style,  we  now 
tm'n  our  attention  to  the  subjects  on  which  his  time 
and  talents  were  employed,  we  shall  find  equal  praise 
due  to  him.  Of  this,  indeed,  we  cannot  want  higher 
proof  than  that  which  is  supplied  by  these  volumes. 
Dr.  Stennett  early  distinguished  himself  as  an  author, 
by  his  Sermons  on  Personal  Religion,  which  first 
made  their  appearance  in  2  vols,  octavo,  about  the 
year  1770>  and  have  often  been  reprinted  both  in 
England  and  Scotland.  The  knowledge  of  the  hu^ 
man  heart,  and  of  the  operations  of  divine  grace  in 
a  sinner's  recovery  to  the  divine  life — -his  renewal 
after  the  image  of  God  in  righteousness  and  holiness 
of  the  truth — his  sanctification — perseverance  in  the 
ways  of  God — his  victory  over  the  world,  and  final 
triumph  over  death  and  the  grave,  are  all  important 
subjects,  and  discussed  by  our  author  with  the  hand 
of  a  master  in  Israel. 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXIX 

Soon  after  the  publication  of  his  Sermons  on  Per- 
sonal Religion,  our  author  was  called  to  engage  in  the 
unpleasant  work  of  controversy,  by  vindicating  his 
own  principles  as  a  Baptist,  and  the  discriminating 
tenets  of  his  denomination  from  an  attack  made  upon 
them  by  the  late  Dr.  Addington.  In  1772>  lit?  pub- 
lished, in  a  duodecimo  volume  of  I70  pages,  "  Re- 
'inarlis  on  the  Christian  Minister's  Reasons  for  admi- 
nistering Raptism  hy  sprinliling  or  pouring  ofivateVy  in 
a  Series  of  Letters  to  a  Friend  ;'^  which  was  followed 
in  about  three  years  afterwards,  by  a  second  volume 
of  300  pages,  entitled,  ^'-  An  Answer  to  the  Christian 
Minister's  Reasons  for  baptizing  Infants,  in  a  Series 
of  Letters  to  a  Friend.'''  As  neither  of  these  treatises 
form  a  part  of  the  present  collection,  it  seems  unne- 
cessary to  enlarge  upon  them,  and  yet,  whatever  may 
be  thought  of  the  controversy  itself,  on  which  the 
disciples  of  Christ,  it  is  to  be  feared,  will  continue  to 
be  divided  in  sentiment,  it  would  be  an  act  of  injus- 
tice to  the  character  of  Dr.  Stennett,  to  pass  them 
over  without  a  few  observations.  The  baptismal  con- 
troversy has  perhaps  been  the  means  of  engendering 
more  heat,  animosity,  and  rancour  of  spirit,  than 
almost  any  other  on  which  Christians  have  differed. 
It  is  highly  to  the  honour  of  Dr.  Stennett,  that  he 
could  go  fully  into  this  controversy,  without  ever  los- 
ing his  temper,  or  descending  from  the  dignified  sta- 
tion of  the  gentleman  and  the  Christian.  On  a 
point  so  honourable  to  him,  Ave  cannot  deny  ourselves 
the  pleasure  of  here  extracting  a  paragraph  from  the 
Preface  to  his  *'  Remarks." 

"  As  to  the  manner,"  says  our  author,  "  in  Avhich 
"  this  controversy  has  been  conducted,  I  am  afraid 


XXX  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

"  both  parties  have  sometimes  failed,  in  regard  of  that 
*'  meekness  and  charity  which  the  gospel  teaches,  if 
"  not  that  good  natm-e  and  decorum  \yhicli  the  laws  of 
*'  humanity  demand.  Such,  it  has  often  been  observ- 
*'  ed,  is  the  unhappy  fate  of  very  many  religious  dis- 
*'  putes.  But,  wherever  the  fault  lies,  I  most  heartily 
*'  agi'ce  with  all  good  men  in  lamenting,  not  excusing 
"  it.  Intemperate  heat  will  naturally  enough  precipi^ 
*'  tate  a  bigot,  and  such  there  are  among  all  denomi- 
*'  nations  of  Christians,  into  these  shameful  mistakes. 
*'  But  how  strange  is  it  that  they  who  mean  we]], 
*'  however  mistaken,  should  suffer  themselves  to  be 
*'  put  out  of  humour  by  the  weakness  of  their  own 
*'  arguments !  A  sensible  observer  will,  in  such  a  case, 
*'  give  a  shrewd  guess  where  the  truth  lies,  without 
**  entering  into  the  debate.  It  ill  becomes  me,  I  own, 
*'  confidently  to  determine  on  which  side  the  weight 
"  of  this  presumptive  kind  of  evidence,  in  the  dis- 
*'  pute  about  Baptism,  preponderates.  If,  however, 
*'  the  Baptists  are  chargeable  with  any  degi-ee  of  that 
"  guilt,  I  hope  it  will  receive  no  addition  to  it  from 
"  this  attempt, 

"  Besides  the  many  considerations  which  the  gos* 
"  pel  suggests,  to  guard  me  against  undue  warmth, 
*'  there  is  one  which  ought  to  have  a  peculiar  effect 
*'  on  my  mind,  and  that  is  the  example  of  a  much  ho- 
"  noured  ancestor,  who  has  not  only  done  singular  jus- 
*'  tice  to  the  argument  itself,  but,  in  the  management 
"  of  it,  has  shewn  a  noble  superiority  to  the  rudest 
*'  and  most  indecent  invectives,  that  were  perhaps 
*'  ever  thrown  out  against  any  set  of  men  professing 
*'  Christianity.  I  mean  not  by  this  to  insinuate,  that 
*'  the  book  to  which  I  reply  bears  a  resemblance  to 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTPIOR.  XXXI 

"  that.  No  :  the  ingenious  author  is  a  man  of  a  very 
"  different  cast  from  Mr.  Russen  :  his  language  is  de- 
*'  cent,  his  manner  pleasing,  and  his  professions  can- 
"  did  and  impartial.  And  I  should  strangely  forget 
"  myself,  if  I  did  not  hold  his  character,  as  a  gentle- 
*'  man,  a  scholar,  and  a  minister,  in  all  due  respect. 
*'  Yet,  if  it  should  he  found  that  expressions  have 
*'  dropt  from  Mr.  Addington's  pen,  that  may  draw 
"  upon  a  body  of  people  reflections  of  a  very  ignomi- 
"  nious  kind,  he  will  not  think  it  strange  that  an  apo- 
"  logist  should  feel  pain  on  theiv  behalf.  Groundless 
*'  as  those  reflections  are,  I  forbear  to  mention  them 
*'  here,  as  I  mean  to  appeal  to  the  judgment  of  the 
"  reader;  not  to  his  passions.  If,  however,  in  the 
"  course  of  these  remarks,  I  should  at  any  time  have 
"  been  so  unhappy  as  to  express  myself  with  too  much 
**  warmth,  I  hope  it  will  be  forgiven  me,  and  that  an 
*'  error  of  this  sort  will  not  be  construed  into  a  design 
*'  of  fixing  the  imputation  of  a  malignant  intention 
*'  on  the  author  to  whom  I  reply,'* 

This  quotation  may  be  sufficient  to  give  the  reader 
some  idea  of  the  temper  and  spirit  in  which  our  author 
managed  this  controversy,  and  his  manner  of  doing  it 
furnishes  a  fine  example  to  those  who  at  any  time  or 
on  any  occasion  may  be  led  into  the  thorny  mazes  of 
polemical  contention.  The  courteous  behaviour,  the 
urbanity  of  a  gentleman  never  forsakes  liim  ;  and  if 
a  regard  to  truth  and  virtue  call  upon  him  to  vindi- 
cate a  divine  institution  from  groundless  presumptions 
and  illiberal  reflections,  it  is  .done  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness,  always  without  loss  of  temper,  though  oc- 
casionally with  an  air  of  pleasantry  excited  by  "  false 
*'  premises  or  lame  conclusions."     It  is  certainly  true, 


XXxii  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

tliat  since  the  time  that  Dr.  Stermett  favoured  tlie 
puhlic  with  his  volumes  on  Baptism,  the  suhject  has 
undergone  a  more  elaborate  discussion,  and  may  by 
some  be  thought  to  be  exhausted  by  Mr.  Booth's 
*'  Psedobaptism  Examined,"  and  his  Reply  to  Dr. 
Williams ;  yet,  it  may  confidently  be  affirmed,  that  to 
such  persons  as  are  capable  of  entering  into  the  merits 
of  the  controversy,  and  appreciating  the  excellencies 
of  Dr.  Stennett's  style,  his  volumes  can  never  be  su- 
perseded :  but  will  continue  to  be  read  with  pleasure 
as  long  as  the  language  in  which  they  are  ^mtten  shall 
endure. 

The  Discourses  on  Domestic  Duties,  were  given 
to  the  world  in  the  year  1783,  and  obtained  for  the 
author  a  large  accession  of  well-earned  reputation 
from  many  persons  in  the  higher  ranks  of  life,  into 
Avhose  hands  they  found  their  way.  It  is,  proba- 
bly, the  most  finished  of  all  Dr.  Stennett's  produc- 
tions— and  is  that  performance  upon  which,  beyond 
any  other,  his  friends  would  be  disposed  to  risk  his 
reputation  as  an  author.  He  was  now  in  the  me- 
ridian of  his  days — ^his  judgment  was  matured  by 
reading  and  study — and  he  evidently  brought  the 
Avhole  force  of  his  mind  to  bear  upon  it.  The  field 
was  not  untrodden  ;  we  had  many  elaborate  treatises 
on  relative  duties,  before  Dr.  Stennett  delivered  his 
Discourses  on  Domestic  Duties,  but  we  know  of  no 
^vi'iter  who  either  before  or  since  has  done  such  am- 
ple justice  to  the  subject  in  all  its  bearings  as  our  au- 
thor. The  Discourses,  or  rather  subjects  of  dis- 
course, are  ordy  twelve  in  number,  but  several  of 
them  are  divided  into  two  or  three  parts,  each  pro- 
bably forming  a  distinct  sermon  when  delivered  from 


AND  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXXIU 

the  pulpit — and  the  whole  series  should  he  read  in 
every  Christian  family  once  a  year.  They  are  cha- 
racterized hy  good  sense,  solid  instruction,  maxims  of 
prudence,  and  are  eminently  calculated  to  teach  pro- 
fessors of  the  religion  of  Christ,  how  they  ought  to 
walk  so  as  to  please  God,  and  adorn  the  doctrine  of 
God  their  Saviour.  In  the  last  discourse,  founded 
on  John  xiv.  2.  the  author  considers  Heaven  as  com- 
posing one  family,  and  descants  upon  the  delightful 
idea  in  the  followinc:  animated  strains : 


'to 


"  At  tlie  evening  of  tlie  day — the  hurrying,  fatiguing,  troublesome 
"  (lay  of  human  life — the  good  man  retires  to  his  home,  his  Father's 
**  house,  the  mansion  xvliich  Christ  his  elder  brother  has  prepared  for 
"  him.  Tliere  he  ceases  from  his  labours,  rests  in  the  bosom  of  liis 
•*  God,  and  lias  no  other  recollection  of  his  past  pains,  disappointments, 
"  and  sorrows,  than  contributes  to  increase  his  hap])iness,  and  heighten 
"  his  joys.  Tiiere  he  finds  himself  instantly  surrounded  with  that 
"  blessed  company  we  have  been  speaking  of;  all  expressing  by  their 
"  cheerfid  smiles  the  satisfaction  they  feel  in  his  liaving  joined  them, 
"  and  all  with  infinite  cordiality  tendering  him  offices  of  love,  too  nu- 
"  nierous  to  be  reckoned,  too  substantial  and  glorious  to  be  described. 
"  And  there,  which  is  the  main  thing  we  have  in  view,  his  intellectual 
**  powers  are  employed,  without  embarrassment  or  weariness,  m  the 
"  contemplation  and  discussion  of  the  most  pleasing,  noble,  and  improv- 
*'  ing  subjects. 

"  Here,  would  our  time  admit,  and  might  imagination  be  allowed  its 
"  full  sco]ie,  with  what  pleasant  scenes  might  Ave  feast  our  eyes,  with 
♦'  what  ravishing  discourse  delight  our  ears !  Methinks  I  see  this  happy 
"  family,  assembled  in  the  fair  and  stately  mansion  their  Father  has 
"  erected  for  their  eternal  abode,  arrayed  in  the  pure  and  splendid  gai'- 
*'  ments  of  immortality,  health,  peace,  and  joy,  blooming  on  their  coun- 
*'  tenances,  their  Friend  and  Saviour  bidding  them  welcome  to  the  rich- 
*'  est  banquet  his  love  could  prepare,  angels  waiting  on  them,  and  the 
"  Master  of  the  house  unveiling  his  gloiies  to  their  view.  Methinks  I 
"  hear  their  discourse.  The  subject  is  immensely  grand— r-the  glories  of 
"  the  ever-blessed  God  displayed  in  his  works.  They  have  powers  for 
"  investigating  the  subject.     Their  attention  is  fixed  with  increasing  de- 


XXXIV  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

*'  light  to  it.  Every  step  they  advance  in  their  enquiries  about  it,  is 
"  marked  with  precision  and  certainty.  The  Iieavenly  vision  glorious 
"  as  it  is  oppresses  not  their  mental  sight :  the  ecstatic  joy  it  affords  dis- 
"  turhs  not  their  perception  of  the  object.  Tlieir  ideas  and  reasonings 
"  are  interchanged  with  unimaginable  swiftness  and  facility.  And  the 
"  pleasures  which  flow  in  one  ])erpetual  stream  from  the  inexhaustible 
"  fountain  of  knowledge,  are  common  to  them  all. 

"  The  tlieme  hatli  infinite  varieties,  each  of  which  is  a  new  source  of 
admiration,  love,  and  delight — Now  they  fix  their  eye  on  the  first 
great  Cause  of  all  things,  whose  nature  the  brightest  intelligences 
cannot  comprehend,  wl)ose  essence  no  created  imagination  can  ex- 
plore. They  gaze  on  his  glories,  which  surprise,  but  do  not  confound: 
inspire  reverence,  but  forbid  fear From  him  they  turn  their  atten- 
tion to  the  works  of  his  hands. — Now  the  skill  of  the  great  arcliitect 
in  the  house  built  for  their  residence,  its  furniture,  and  entertainment, 
employs  their  contemplation :  and  then  the  wonderous  effects  of  his 
wisdom  and  power  in  the  more  remote  provinces  of  his  boundless  em- 
pire  Now  they  dwell  on  the  nature,  capacities,  and  interests  of  the 

various  orders  of  beings  that  hold  a  different  rank  in  the  creation  from 
themselves ;  and  then  on  their  own  nature,  faculties,  laws,  and  ends 
of  existence. — Now  the  scheme  of  Providence  respecting  the  world 
whence  they  came,  occupies  their  minds  ;  states,  kingdoms,  and  em- 
'  pires  passing  in  review  before  their  astonished  eyes :  and  then  the 
'  long,  the  diversified,  the  entertaining  detail  of  each  other's  history  holds 

'  their  attention  with  growing  delight Now  they  call  over  the  seve- 

'  ral  events  that  happened  to  them,  from  the  moment  they  came  into 
'  existence  to  that  of  their  translation  tliither ;  and  all  the  circumstances 
'  that  combined,  under  the  controlling  influence  of  Heaven,  to  bring 
'  about  their  final  felicity :  and  then  they  recollect  with  rapturous  joy 
'  the  intimate  connection  of  these  events  with  tlie  greatest  and  most 
'  sublime  of  all,  their  redemption  by  the  death  of  the  Son  of  God.  On 
'  this  transporting  subject  wherein  he  hath  abounded  towards  us  in  all 
'  wisdom  and  prudence,  they  exert  the  utmost  powers  of  imagination 
'  and  reason.  At  every  step  they  take  new  light  breaks  in  upon  their 
'  minds,  and  new  joys  circulate  around  their  hearts.  So  a  pure  flame 
'  of  ingenuous  gratitude  and  love  is  enkindled  in  their  bosoms,  to  the 
'  Father  of  mercies  who  laid  the  plan  in  the  counsels  of  eternity,  to  the 
'  divine  Jesus  who  carried  it  into  execution,  and  to  the  Holy  Spirit  the 
'  Comforter  who  displays  tlie  glories  of  it  to  their  enraptured  sight. — 
'  Thus  employed  in  contemplating  the  most  glorious  objects,  discussing 
'  tlie  noblest  trutlis,  conversing  about  the  most  interesting  events,  and 


AKD  WRITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOR.  XXXV 

"  intermingling  witli  their  discourse  the  liarinonious  melody  of  the  most 
"  exalted  devotion  and  praise ;  thus  emploj'ed,  I  say,  how  pure,  substan- 
"  tial,  and  satisfying  must  their  pleasures  be ! 

"  Go  into  a  family  of  piety  and  love. — Some  few  such  families  there 
"  are  in  our  world. — Read  the  character  of  each  member  in  his  coiuite- 
"  nance.  Be  a  witness  of  the  tender  offices  of  kindness  they  render 
"  each  other.  Join  their  company.  Make  one  with  them  in  their  par- 
*'  ties  of  innocent  amusement.  Listen  to  their  instructive,  entertaining, 
"  and  endearing  discourse.  Hear  their  pleasant  details  of  interesting' 
"  events.  Enter  into  their  more  serious  reasonings.  And  share  with 
"  them  in  the  comforts  and  joys  of  their  undissembled  and  fervent  devo- 
"  tion.  You  will  say  with  rapture,  Verili/  this  is  the  house  of  God,  it 
''  is  the  gate  of  heaven  !  But  the  pleasures  enjoyed  by  this  little  society, 
"  though  they  may  distantly  resemble  those  of  the  blessed  above,  fall  in- 
"  finitely  short  of  them. 

"  How  commodious  is  the  habitation  in  which  this  infinitely  large 
"  and  noble  society  reside !  No  convenience  is  wanting  to  make  it  plea- 
"  sant  and  delightful  in  the  highest  degree.  There  are  apartments  in 
"  it  for  every  one  of  the  family,  and  Christ  is  gone  before  to  make  them 
"  ready.  How  delicious  is  their  food !  It  is  the  food  of  angels.  How 
"  highly  flavoured  are  their  joys !  They  drink  of  rivers  of  pleasure  that 
"  flow  from  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb.  How  illustrious  the 
"  company !  They  are  all  wise,  holy,  and  good  ;  free  from  eveiy  possi- 
"  ble  taint  of  folly,  imperfection,  and  sin.  Each  one  enjoys  health,  ease, 
'*  and  tranquillity ;  without  abatement  or  interruption.  They  are  upon 
"  terms  of  the  strictest  amity  and  the  most  cordial  friendshij/.  Their 
"  discoiu'se  is  upon  subjects  as  delightful  as  they  are  instructive ;  sub- 
"  jects  that  afford  the  richest  pleasure  to  the  imagination,  and  diffuse  a 
"  sacred  glow  of  divine  affection  through  the  heart.  The  Father  of  the 
"  family  is  present  in  the  midst  of  them,  pouring  upon  them  the  noblest 
"  profusion  of  beneficence  and  love.  Their  elder  Brother  and  Friend, 
"  who  loved  not  his  life  unto  death  for  their  sakes,  unbosoms  his  heart 
"  to  them.  The  Holy  Spirit  not  only  irradiates  their  understandings, 
"  but  in  the  character  of  a  Comforter  possesses  them  of  tlie  richest  con- 
"  solations.  Li  fine,  the  innumerable  hosts  of  angels  who  attend  them, 
"  are  happy  in  contributing  all  in  their  power  to  their  happiness. — What 
"  refined,  what  exalted,  what  divine  pleasures  must  this  family  enjoy ! 

"  The  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  in  the  midst  of  his  labours  Iiere 
"  on  earth,  was  admitted  for  a  few  moments  into  their  company.     And 


XXXVl  SOME  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LIFE 

"  so  enraptured  was  he  with  the  joys  he  there  felt,  that  whether  he  ivos 
*'  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  he  could  not  tell :  it  was  paradise,  and 
"  he  heard  things  lohich  it  is  not  laicfid  for  a  man  to  utter.  Let  us 
*'  check  our  imagination  then  in  its  flight.  We  have  not  senses  capahle 
"  of  sustaining  the  heavenly  vision ;  we  have  not  faculties  at  present 
"  equal  to  the  investigation  of  this  sublime  subject." 

The  Discourses  on  the  Parable  of  the  Sower 
(1787),  was  the  next  in  succession  of  our  author's  puh- 
lications,  and  it  is  a  work  worthy  of  his  pen.  His  first 
discourse,  on  the  use  and  ahuse  of  allegorical  instruc- 
tion, is  superior  to  any  thing  on  the  suhject  with 
which  we  are  acquainted  in  our  language ;  nor  can 
we  doubt  that  it  has  been  eminently  useful  in  checking 
a  species  of  preaching  which  perhaps  was  more,  pre- 
valent in  his  day  than  it  is  at  present,  though  unhap- 
pily we  still  have  too  much  of  it,  since  it  is  a  kind  of 
rant  which  all  sober-minded  Christians  must  unite  in 
condemning  ; — would  we  could  say  that  it  had  put  a 
stop  to  it.  *'  I  do  not  mean,'*  says  our  author,  "  to 
*'  lay  figures,  comparisons,  and  similitudes  under  an 
"  interdict :  they  have  their  use  if  managed  with  dis- 
**  cretion  and  moderation.  But  a  failure  here  is  an 
"  occasion  of  many  great  evils.  An  intemperate  use 
"  of  figures  tends  to  sensualize  the  mind  and  deprave 
*'  the  taste — the  misapplication  of  them  gives  a  false 
**  idea  of  the  objects  they  are  meant  to  represent — 
**  and  the  reasoning  injudiciously  from  them  begets  a 
**  kind  of  faith  that  is  precarious  and  ineffectual.'* 
After  giving  an  able  illustration  of  each  of  these  par- 
ticulars, he  very  judiciously  proceeds  to  notice  the 
evils  attending  declamatory  preaching,  by  which  he 
explains  himself  to  mean,  all  discourses,  whether  al- 
legorical or  not,  that  are  destitute  of  sober  reasoning, 
and  addressed  merely  to  the  passions — "  loose  essays. 


AXD  WHITINGS  OF  THE  AUTHOIt.  XXXVU 

**  or  harangues  on  popular  subjects,  filled  with  trite 
"  observations,  and  set  off  with  witty  conceits  and 
"  trifling  stories,  delivered  in  a  manner  more  suitable 
*'  to  the  stage  than  the  pulpit.  Such  kind  of  preach- 
"  ing  is  by  no  means  adapted  to  instruct  and  edify : 
"  its  tendency  is  extremely  pernicious.  It  begets  con- 
*'  tempt  in  those  who  are  ill-affected  to  religion.  It 
*'  excites  levity  in  those  who  are  indifferent  about  it. 
*'  It  disgusts  sensible  and  serious  Christians.  And  if 
"  any  may  be  supposed  to  be  awakened  by  it,  such 
"  persons  are  in  danger  of  mistaking  impressions  that 
"  are  the  effect  of  a  mere  mechanical  influence  upon 
"  their  passions,  for  the  work  of  God  upon  their  hearts. 
*'  And  should  not  these  evils  be  seriously  considered, 
*'  l^y  all  who  have  unhappily  fallen  into  this  extrava- 
"  gant  manner  of  preaching  ?  These  are  not  trifling 
*'  matters.  The  glory  of  God,  the  honour  of  the  gos- 
*'  pel,  the  welfare  of  immortal  souls,  and  your  own 
*'  reputation,  both  as  men  and  ministers,  are  con- 
"  cerned.  But  alas !  little  is  to  be  expected  from 
*'  these  expostulations  with  weak  and  conceited  peo- 
*'  pie,  and  less  with  those  who  are  governed  in  the 
*'  exercise  of  their  ministry  by  base  and  unworthy 
"  motives.'* These  are  the  words  of  truth  and  so- 
berness, and  they  evince  a  mind  well  instructed  in  the 
things  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven — a  solid  and  pro- 
found judgment  resulting  from  an  enlarged  acquaint- 
ance with  men  and  things. 

The  Discourses  on  the  Divine  Authority  and 
Various  Use  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  (1790),  were 
tlie  last  published  of  all  his  pulpit  addresses,  perhaps 
with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  single  sermons.  The 
author  was  now  advancing  into  the  vale  of  life,  and 

VOL.  I.  c 


XXXViii  SOME  ACCOUNT  OT  THE  LIFE,  8cC. 

consequently  began  to  cultivate,  in  a  more  especial 
manner,  an  experimental  acquaintance  with  the  conso- 
latory truths  of  revelation  which  it  had  been  the  lead- 
ing concern  of  his  life  to  explain  and  inculate  upon 
others.  They  are  distinguished  by  the  same  good 
sense,  pious  feeling,  and  devout  reflection  that  ap- 
pear in  all  his  other  writings,  but  have  probably  less 
of  the  imagination  instamped  upon  them.  The 
first  six  discoiu'ses  are  founded  on  the  same  text, 
2  Tim.  iii.  l6.  "  All  scripture  is  given  by  inspiration 
of  God,  and  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  reproof,  cor- 
rection, and  instruction  in  righteousness,  that  the 
man  of  God  may  be  perfect,  thoroughly  furnislied 
to  every  good  work."  The  last  two  are  on  Col.  iii. 
16.  "Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly  in  all 

wisdom," .     Tlie  various  uses  for  which  the  holy 

Scriptures  were  given,  and  to  which  they  ought  to 
be  applied  in  the  way  of  instruction,  of  reproof  or 
conviction,  of  correction,  and  of  consolation,  are  il- 
lustrated with  the  author's  usual  abilit}\ 

Upox  tiie  whole,  the  Publishers  conceive  tliat  in 
collecting  into  a  body  the  writings  of  Dr.  Samuel 
Stennett,  which  is  now  first  done,  and  presenting 
them  to  the  Public  in  a  form  v/orthy  of  their  intrinsic 
merit,  they  have  been  performing  an  acceptable  ser- 
vice to  the  church  of  Christ.  They  trust  that  their 
enterprise  will  be  duly  appreciated  by  a  liberal  and 
enlightened  Public,  to  whose  patronage  of  the  under- 
tu]:ing  they  look  for  their  reward. 

W.  J. 

Loudon,  March  1st,  1824. 


TO  THE 


CHURCH    OF    CHRIST 

•MEETIXCi 

IN  LITTLE  WILD  STREET, 

lincoln's  inn  fields. 

My  Dear  Friends, 

The  intimate  relation  wliicli  liatli  now  for  many 
years  subsisted  between  you  and  me,  will  not  allow 
me  to  doubt  to  wbom  the  following  discourses  should 
1)6  inscribed.  And,  though  I  mean  not  by  this  ad- 
dress, to  make  you  accountable  for  their  many  de- 
fects, yet  I  am  happy  in  thus  venturing  them  into 
public  view,  through  your  hands,  as  it  gives  me  an 
opportunity  of  expressing  the  sense  I  have  of  your 
candour  and  affection  towards  me,  and  the  concern 
I  feel  for  your  best  interests. 

The  subject,  you  are  sensible,  is  infinitely  mo- 
mentous ;  though,  alas  !  strangely  misunderstood  by 
some,  despised  by  others,  and  neglected  by  most.  I 
cannot  doubt,  therefore,  but  this  attempt,  in  a  de- 
pendence upon  the  divine  blessing,  to  exjdain  the 
nature  and  establish  tlic  authority  of  real  religion,  to 
awaken  the  attention  and  conciliate  the  regards  of 
men  to  it,  and  to  assist  the  Christian  in  the  exjie- 
rience  and  practice  of  it,  will  meet  with  afavoural>le 
reception,  my  Friends,  from  you. 


xl  DEDICATION. 

For  the  connection  of  tlie  discourses,  I  refer  you 
to  tlie  contents,  or  ratlier  to  tlie  close  of  tlie  last 
sermon  of  the  volume,  where  you  will  find  a  brief 
recapitulation  of  the  whole. 

I  HAVE  only  to  add,  that  as  I  trust  you  have  al- 
ready received  some  benefit  from  the  delivery  of 
these  sermons  in  public,  (a  reflection  which  gives 
me  no  small  pleasure,)  so  I  am  not  without  hopes, 
that  they  may  afford  you  some  farther  profit  and  en- 
tertainment in  your  families  and  closets.  To  which 
ends  I  assure  myself  of  the  cheerful  concurrence  of 
your  fervent  prayers  to  God,  with  those  of 

Your  most  affectionate  Friend, 

and  Servant, 

in  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 

SAMUEL  STENNETT. 

Ilation-Gardeji,  \ 
Oct.  30th,  17G9.  j 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


DISCOURSE  I. 

The  Nature  of  Religion. In  Three  Parts. 

1  Cor.  IV.  20. 2'he  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  ivord  but  in  jmwcr.  Page  1 

DISCOURSE  II. 
The  Reality  of  Religion. In  Three  Farts. 

2  Tni.  III.  5. Denying  the  power, 22 

DISCOURSE  III. 

The  Sameness  of  Religion, In  Three  Parts. 

1  Cor.  XII.  13. And  have  been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit,  A!i 

DISCOURSE  IV. 

The  Importance  of  Religion. In  Three  Parts. 

Luke  x.  42. One  thing  is  needful,  63 

DISCOURSE  V. 
The  Difficulties  attending  Religion.  In  Three  Parts. 

Matt.  yiXi.  2i. — Then  said  Jesus  unto  his  disciples,  If  any  man  will  come 
after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  tip  his  cross,  and  follow  me,  &t 

DISCOURSE  VI. 

The  Difficulties  of  Religion  surmounted. In  Three  Paris. 

Matt.  XI.  .30. — For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light,  115 

DISCOURSE  VII. 

The  Pleasantness  of  Religion. In  Three  Parts. 

PrOV.  ni.  n.—Her  tvays  areiuays  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  pence,    14'2 

DISCOURSE  VIII. 

The  Fruits  of  Religion. In  Three  Parts. 

Rom.  VI.  22. Ye  have  yourfruit  unto  holiness, 167 

DISCOURSE  IX, 

The  Divine  Origin  of  Religion. In  Two  Paris. 

JaMF.s  hi.  17. The  wisdom  that  is  from  ubore, 217 


Xlii  COXTE-VTS. 

'  DISCOURSE  X. 

Christ  the  Grand  Medium  of  liPligion. /;;  Tlirec  Parts. 

Eril.  II.  10. Created  in  Christ  Jesus, Page  237 

DISCOURSE  XI. 

Tlie  Means  of  Iinproveiuent  in  Religion. In  Two  Parts. 

2  Pet.  hi.  18. — But  grow  in  grace, 262 

DISCOURSE  XII. 

Improvement  in  Roligion,  the  Fruit  of  a  Divine  Influence. In  Two  Parts. 

IIos.  XIV.  j. — /  wilt  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel,  284 

DISCOURSE  XIII. 

Tho  Use  of  Religion  in  a  Time  of  Affliction. In  Three  Parts. 

PsAl..  xui.  10. — Be  slill,  and  know  Ihat  I  am  God,  -SOI 

DISCOURSE  XIV. 

Porspveranco  in  Religion  the  Christian's  Duty. In  Two  Parts. 

Judges  viii.  i.— Faint,  i/ct  pursuing, 339 

DISCOURSE  XV. 
Religion  an  Abiding  Principle. — — /"«  Two  Parts. 
PniT..  I.  6. — -Ih'ing  Citnjident  of  this  vert/  thing,  that  he  which  hath  begun  a 
gaud  work  in  you,  will  perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ,  361' 

DISCOURSE   XVI. 

The  Use  of  Religion  in  Death. In  Two  Parts. 

PsAT,.  XXIII.  4, —  Yea,  though  I  walkthrough  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
I  wdl  fear  no  evil :  for  thou   art   with  me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  covi' 
fort  me,  '  .392 

DISCOURSE  XVII. 

The  Final  Consummation  of  Religion  in  Heaven. In  Three  Parts. 

Roii.  VI.  22. The  end  everlasting  life,  415 


fitSCOURSE  t 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

1  Cor.  IV.  20. The  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  word,  but  in 

power. 

W  HEREIN  religion  consists,  is  an  enquiry  which  hath  justly 
challenged  the  attention  of  mankind,  in  every  age,  and  in  every 
part  of  the  world.  But  so  various  are  the  opinions  which  have 
obtained  upon  this  important  subject,  that  he  who  hath  not 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  thing  itself,  would  be  almost 
tempted  to  judge  it  impossible  to  ascertain  the  true  nature  of  it, 
with  any  degree  of  clearness  and  precision.  And  yet,  admit- 
tino"  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  religion,  nothing  is  more  evi- 
dent than  that  it  must  be  capable  of  a  full  and  clear  description. 
And  whatever  difficulties  may  be  supposed  to  attend  the  ex- 
planation of  this  point,  yet  if  men  would  but  soberly  listen  to 
the  dictates  of  reason,  together  with  the  concurrent  testimony 
of  scripture  and  experience,  they  would  not  find  it  so  hard  a 
task  as  they  imagine,  to  acquire  at  least  some  general  notions 
about  it.  What  I  propose  therefore  in  this  discourse  is,  to 
give  you  a  brief  description  of  what  I  apprehend  to  be  the  true 
nature  of  religion.  And  whether  we  are,  or  are  not  ourselves 
interested  in  this  divine  blessing ;  yet,  I  persuade  myself,  this 
account  of  it  will  so  far  approve  itself  to  the  judgment  and  con- 
sciences of  men,  as  to  oblige  them  to  acknowledge,  that  it  is  an 
object  most  deserving  of  their  attention.  This  description  then 
I  shall  ground  on  the  passage  now  before  us,  which  at  once 
partakes  of  all  the  beauty  and  variety  of  a  most  expressive 
figure,  and  of  all  the  strength  and  perspicuity  of  the  plainest 
language.  The  kingdom  of  God.  is  not  in  word,  but  in  power. 
The  apostle,  you  will  find  by  looking  back  a  few  verses  be- 
fore the  text,  had  proposed  himself  to  the  Corinthians  as  their 

example,  offering  it  both  as  an  excuse  for  this  freedom,  and  as 

VOL.  I.  A 


2  THE  NATURE  OF  RELICIO^T. 

an  argument  to  conciliate  their  regards,  that  he  was  their  fa- 
ther, having  in  Christ  Jesus  begotten  them  through  the  gospel. 
And  lest,  in  his  ahsence,  the  lively  impression  which  his  doc- 
trine and  manner  of  life  had  made  upon  their  hearts,  should  in 
any  degree  he  erased,  he  tells  them,  he  had  sent  Timothy  to 
remind  them  of  his  ways  in  Christ.  But  they  were  not  from 
hence  to  conclude,  as  some  of  their  false  teachers  had  insinuat- 
ed, that  he  did  not  design  himself  to  come  among  them.  For, 
says  he  in  the  verse  preceding  the  text,  /  iciU  come  unto  you 
shortly,  if  the  Lord  will.  And  he  adds,  I  will  know,  not  the 
speech  of  them  which  are  puffed  up,  bid  the  power.  "  I  will 
judge  of  the  pretensions  of  these  new  apostles,  not  hy  their 
words,  their  confident  talk,  or  their  insinuating  manner  of  ad- 
dress ;  but  by  the  power,  the  miraculous  proofs  they  have  to 
bring  in  vindication  of  their  mission.  For  the  kingdom  of  God 
is  not  in  word,  hut  inpower.  The  Christian  dispensation  owes 
its  existence  and  support,  not  to  human  wit  and  eloquence,  but 
to  the  exertion  of  divine  power  and  grace." 

But  as  the  spirit  and  tendency  of  any  one's  doctrine,  as  well 
as  the  miraculous  powers  he  may  claim,  is  a  very  just  and  na- 
tural criterion,  by  which  to  judge  of  the  pretensions  of  him  who 
publishes  it ;  so  I  see  no  reason  why  this  may  not  be  included 
in  the  passage  before  us.  And  then  the  text,  without  offer- 
ing any  violence  to  it,  may  be  understood,  not  only  as  ex- 
pressive of  the  extraordinary  means  by  wliich  the  Christian 
dispensation  was  first  introduced  and  established,  but  as  de- 
scriptive of  the  nature  and  tendency  of  the  Christian  doctrine 
itself.  The  gospel,  if  received  in  truth  and  love,  produces  ef- 
fects which  are  substantial  and  important.  A  new  kingdom  is 
set  up  in  the  heart  of  the  real  Christian.  And  that  kingdom 
is  not  in  ivord,  it  consists  not  in  mere  notions,  forms,  or  appear- 
ances, but  in  power,  in  the  commanding  influence  of  the  great 
principles  of  religion  on  our  tempers  and  lives.  Our  Saviour 
to  this  purpose  admonishes  us,  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  his  righteousness  a.  And  the  apostle  himself  elsewhere 
affirms,  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and  drink^  hut 
righteousness,  and  peace,  afidjoy  in  the  Holy  Ghost  b. 

a  Matt,  vi,  33.  b  Rom.  xiv.  17. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  3 

Now,  before  I  proceed  to  consider  this  figurative  description 
of  religion,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give  you  some  general  ex- 
planation of  the  term  itself.  And  you  hardly  need  be  told,  it 
is  variously  used,  though  it  always  conveys  an  idea  of  those 
concerns  which  more  immediately  relate  to  God  and  the  soul. 

It  is  often  you  know  put  objectively  for  the  principles  we  pro- 
fess, or  for  that  particular  form  of  worship  to  which  we  are  at- 
tached: so  we  frequently  speak  of  the  Christian  and  the  Pa- 
gan, the  Popish  and  the  Reformed  religion.  But  in  these  dis- 
courses I  shall  consider  it  subjectively,  and  that  chiefly  in  re- 
spect to  the  heart  of  man,  which  is  its  proper  residence,  and 
from  whence  proceed  the  natural  and  genuine  effects  of  it  in  the 
life.  Now  in  this  view  of  it,  it  comprehends  all  those  exercises 
of  the  mind,  by  which  wo  ai'e  first  led  into  an  acquaintance  with 
God,  and  are  afterwards  gradually  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of 
the  heavenly  blessedness.  In  short,  it  is  no  other  than  the  re- 
gards due  from  the  creature  to  him  who  made  him,  and  which 
must  have  their  origin  in  the  heart,  that  being  the  noblest  part, 
and  the  spring  of  all  human  actions.  And  if  it  be  farther  en- 
quired, what  these  regards  are,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  they  must 
be  determined  by  the  spiritual  and  perfect  nature  of  that 
Being,  who  is  the  great  object  of  religion  ;  and  by  the  parti- 
cular capacities  and  circumstances  of  those,  who  are  the  sub- 
jects of  it.  God  is  a  spirit,  possessed  of  every  possible  perfec- 
tion, and  the  constant  source  of  all  the  good  which  creatures 
enjoy.  Religion,  therefore,  must  be  a  spiritual  thing,  consist- 
ing in  the  contemplation  of  God,  a  due  reverence  for  him,  an 
entire  confidence  in  him,  a  supreme  love  of  him,  and  a  cordial 
subjection  of  mind  to  his  whole  will.  This  must  be  the  na- 
ture of  it,  with  regard  to  all  intelligent  creatures,  whatever  be 
the  rank  they  hold  in  the  scale  of  beings,  and  whatever  the  ca- 
pacities they  are  endowed  with.  This  is  the  religion  both  of 
angels  and  of  men.  But  then  it  is  evident,  since  man  is  in  a 
fallen  state,  that  his  religion  must  differ,  and  that  in  some 
very  important  points  of  it,  from  the  religion  of  pure  and  inno- 
cent creatures.  He  must  be  recovered,  at  least  in  some  de- 
gree, from  the  blindness,  stupidity  and  misery  in  which  sin 
hath  plunged  him,  before  he  can  exercise  those  spiritual  affec- 
tions towards   God,  which  were  just  mentioned.     His  heart 

a2 


4>  THK  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

must  be  formecl  into  a  subjection  to  tbat  wise  and  gracious 
scheme,  which  Heaven  hath  appointed  for  the  redemption  and 
salvation  of  sinners  ;  which  subjection  will  express  itself  by  an 
ingenuous  sorrow  for  sin,  and  a  humble  confidence  in  the  divine 
mercy.  And  since  it  is  by  degrees  the  good  man  grows  up 
from  his  first  implantation  in  the  church  of  Christ,  to  the 
likeness  of  the  blessed  God,  he  must  to  this  end,  pass  through 
various  exercises  of  mind,  to  all  which,  both  the  dispensations 
of  providence,  and  the  means  of  grace,  do,  under  a  divine  in- 
fluence, very  happily  and  largely  contribute ;  till  at  length  reli- 
gion, thus  begun  on  earth,  is  consummated  in  eternal  glory  above. 
From  this  general  view  then  of  religion,  let  us  now  proceed 
to  a  more  particular  consideration  of  the  animated  description 
given  us  of  it  in  the  text. 

I.  It  is  the  Kingdom  of  God ;  a  kingdom  which  he  hath 
erected  in  the  hearts  of  men.     And, 

II.  It  consists  not  in  Word,  but  in  Power.  It  is  not  a  mere 
imagination  or  empty  sound,  but  a  substantial  and  important 
reality. 

I.  It  is  the  Kingdom  of  God ;  a  state,  polity,  or  dominion, 
which  he  hath  set  up  in  the  soul  of  man.  So  that  I  am  here 
naturally  led  to  speak  of  the  Sovereign  of  this  kingdom,  the 
subjects  of  it,  the  statutes  and  laws  by  which  it  is  governed, 
the  strength,  order  and  beauty  of  it,  the  privileges  and  im- 
munities with  which  it  is  endowed,  and,  in  one  word,  its  sta- 
bility and  duration. 

1.  Of  this  kingdom  God  is  the  Sovereign.  He  hath  laid 
the  foundations  of  it,  and  he  therefore  of  riglit  presides  over 
it,  commanding  a  ready  obedience  to  his  will,  taking  effectual 
care  of  its  real  interests,  and  administering  all  its  affairs  with 
infinite  wisdom  and  goodness.  To  him  religion,  in  all  the 
various  and  different  expressions  of  it,  pays  its  humble  and 
dutiful  homage.  By  him  only  its  sacred  dictates  are  to  be 
guided,  and  to  him  alone  it  is  accountable  for  all  matters  both 
of  faith  and  practice.  Nor  is  there  any  one  holy  and  devout 
affection  of  the  mind,  but  rises  into  existence,  and  grows  and 
increases  there,  through  that  authority  wliich  he  holds  over  the 
human  heart.  An  authority  the  more  pleasing  to  a  good  man, 
as  he  sees  it  exercised  by  the  just  and  mild  administration  of 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  5 

the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  God  hath  not  only  set  him  king 
over  his  holy  hill  of  Sion,  his  church  in  general,  but  hath  ap- 
pointed him  the  throne  in  the  heart  of  every  believer  in  par- 
ticular.    And  then, 

2.  As  the  heart  is  the  place  where  he  hath  erected  his  throne, 
so  the  powers  of  it,  the  understanding,  will  and  affections,  are 
the  proper  subjects  over  which  he  sways  his  sceptre.  These, 
while  men  remain  strangers  to  religion,  are  in  a  state  of  anarchy 
and  confusion,  like  a  people  who  have  no  head  to  govern  them, 
and  are  torn  to  pieces  with  civil  discords  and  contentions  among 
themselves.  They  are  alienated  from  God,  their  only  lawful 
sovereign,  and  at  continual  war  with  one  another.  But,  when 
the  empire  of  religion  is  restored  to  the  soul,  all  the  various 
powers  and  passions  of  it  flock  in  to  the  standard  which  is  set 
up  there,  and  joyfully  submit  to  its  authority.  The  under- 
standing, before  overpowered  with  ignorance,  doubt  and  scep- 
ticism, is  captivated  to  the  obedience  of  faith.  The  conscience, 
once  blind  and  stupid,  is  struck  with  the  excellence  and  impor- 
tance of  divine  things.  The  will,  ere  this  fully  bent  on  vanity 
and  sin,  is  strongly  inclined  to  holiness  and  goodness.  And 
the  affections,  which  were  wretchedly  bewildered  in  a  fruitless 
pursuit  of  happiness  among  the  creatures  of  sense,  are  now 
united  under  the  banner  of  enlightened  reason,  and  directed  to 
God  as  their  chief  good.     Nor  need  we, 

3.  Be  at  any  loss  to  determine,  what  are  the  means  or  instru- 
7nenfs^  by  which  the  soul  of  man,  thus  restored  to  the  dominion 
of  its  rightful  Sovereign,  is  ruled  and  governed.  Whilst  it 
remained  in  its  former  state,  it  had  no  other  law  to  which  it 
chose  to  submit,  but  its  own  depraved  inclinations.  Reason 
and  conscience  might  indeed  sometimes  interpose  their  autho- 
rity ;  but  alas  !  their  dictates,  like  the  remonstrances  of  good 
Old  Eli  to  his  children, — Mi/  sons,  ivhy  do  ye  such  things  a  ? 
were  weak  and  feeble,  and  scarce  ever  heard  and  obeyed.  But 
now,  these  ancient  vicegerents  of  Heaven  resume  their  original 
power,  and  at  once  assisted  by  the  superior  light  of  divine 
revelation,  and  invested  with  the  mighty  energy  of  divine  grace, 
command  obedience  to  their  precepts.  By  the  sacred  scriptures 
the  man  of  religion  would  have  his  opinions,  affections  and  cou- 

«  1  Sain.  u.  23,  21. 


6  THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

duct,  directed,  governed  and  tried.  To  this  the  statute  law  of 
God,  he  brings  his  heart  and  his  life,  daily  comparing  himself 
with  it,  and  judging  himself  by  it.  For  these  the  venerable 
records  of  heaven,  fully  satisfied  of  their  authority,  he  maintains 
a  sacred  reverence  :  and  from  a  genuine  principle  of  true  loyalty 
to  his  sovereign,  he  labours  to  conform  to  them,  not  wishing  to 
be  released  from  their  commanding  influence.  And  to  this 
cheerful  obedience,  though  alas  !  disgraced  with  mauy  weak- 
nesses and  imperfections,  he  is  sweetly  allured,  and  powerfully 
urged  by  the  generous  motives  the  blessed  gospel  suggests ;  mo- 
tives arising  from  the  unparalleled  love  of  the  Son  of  God  him- 
self, in  laying  down  his  life,  to  restore  the  honours  of  his  broken 
law,  and  to  vindicate  the  rights  of  his  injured  government. 
From  hence  likewise, 

4.  We  are  led  to  contemplate  the  beauty,  order  and  harmony 
of  this  spiritual  kingdom,  which  is  another  idea  the  metaphor 
naturally  conveys.  Sin,  as  hath  been  already  observed,  intro- 
duces into  the  soul  of  man  the  most  horrid  anarchy  and  confu- 
sion. It  raises  a  civil  war  there,  and  sets  all  the  powers  of  the 
heart  at  variance,  not  with  God  only,  but  with  one  another. 
And,  in  these  sad  circumstances,  what  a  miserable  appearance 
does  the  mind  of  man  make  !  How  is  its  beauty  defaced  ;  its 
strength  enervated;  and  its  real  happiness  spoiled  and  destroy- 
ed !  But,  when  God  sets  up  his  kingdom  there,  when  real  re- 
ligion takes  possession  of  the  heart,  the  face  of  things  is  in  some 
good  degree  altered.  This  little  state,  torn  to  pieces  by  intes- 
tine broils,  angry  passions,  and  furious  lusts,  emerges  out  of 
that  disgrace  and  misery,  in  which  it  was  involved,  collects 
somewhat  of  its  former  strength,  and  rises  gradually  into  a 
fair  and  flourishing  empire :  as  the  soul  itself  becomes  again 
subject  to  the  dominion  of  heaven,  so  the  several  powers  of  it, 
no  longer  restlessly  invading  each  other's  province,  retire  to 
their  proper  stations.  Reason  guides  the  judgment,  the  judg- 
ment rules  the  will,  the  will  commands  the  affections,  and  the 
affections  of  the  mind,  under  the  united  conduct  of  the  judg- 
ment and  tlie  will,  restrain  and  regulate  the  inferior  appetites 
of  nature.  And  thus  order  succeeds  confusion,  and  with  it 
that  beauty,  firmness  and  union,  which  were  originally  the 
glory  of  the  human  soul. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  7 

But,  by  all  this  I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate,  that  religion  at 
once  exalts  a  man  to  a  state  of  perfection.  No ;  the  kingdom 
of  God  is  as  yet  in  its  infancy,  and  of  consequence  we  see  it 
struggling,  even  in  the  best  of  men,  with  many  difficulties  and 
dangers.  There  are  still  Canaanites  in  the  laud,  remains  of 
ignorance,  passion,  and  sin,  which  will  prove  the  unhappy  oc- 
casions of  disquietude  and  contention,  if  not  in  some  instances 
of  a  kind  of  mutiny  and  rebellion.  Nevertheless  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  that  in  proportion  to  the  influence  of  religion  on 
the  heart,  so  is  the  beauty,  health,  and  vigour  of  the  mind. 
These  are  the  natural  and  genuine  fruits  of  a  true  knowledge  of 
Christ  and  his  grace,  and  of  a  lively  experience  of  real  and 
substantial  piety.  Hereby  the  man  is  invigorated  and  strength- 
ened, united  to  God  and  himself,  and  possessed  of  a  dignity 
which  will  command  reverence  from  even  wicked  men  themselves. 
And  if  such  be  the  nature  and  tendency  of  religion,  how  great 
may  we  reasonably  suppose, 

5.  Are  the  privileges  and  immunities  annexed  to  this  spiri- 
tual kingdom  !  God  himself,  as  you  have  seen,  is  both  the 
Founder  and  the  Sovereign  of  it ;  and  since  it  receives  its  de- 
nomination and  existence  from  him,  there  can  be  no  just  doubt 
but  he  will  honour  it  with  his  peculiar  favour,  presence  and 
protection.  If  it  be  a  happiness,  as  to  our  outward  concerns,  to 
live  under  the  wise,  just,  and  mild  administration  of  a  worldly 
prince  ;  to  have  our  liberties  and  properties  preserved  entire  :  to 
be  sure  of  the  speedy  and  effectual  redress  of  our  grievances ; 
and,  together  with  peace  and  plenty,  to  possess  a  rich  supply 
of  every  needful  and  desirable  good ;  how  great  must  be  the 
felicity  of  the  Christian,  who  is  entitled  to  these  spiritual  bless- 
ings in  a  much  higher  and  nobler  perfection  !  God  his  king 
reigns  in  truth  and  righteousness,  in  gentleness  and  love :  and 
as  the  humble  heart  is  the  willing  subject  of  his  government,  so 
he  deigns  to  make  it  the  seat  of  his  residence.  There,  where 
he  hath  set  up  the  trophies  of  his  victorious  power,  he  conde- 
scends to  display  the  charms  of  his  beauty  and  grace.  /  ivill 
dwell  in  them^  says  he,  and  I  ivill  walk  in  them,  and  I  will  be 
their  God,  and  they  shall  be  my  people  a.  They  are  the  men 
whom  he  delights  to  honour.  To  him  they  are  al'owed  on 
«  2  Cgr.  vi.  16. 


8  THE  NATURE  OF  KELIGION^. 

every  occasion  to  have  access  with  boldness :  and  whilst  he  gra- 
ciously smiles  upon  them,  he  assures  them,  with  a  generosity 
[  peculiar  to  himself,  that  he  will  supply  all  their  wants  according 
to  his  riches  in  glory  by  Jesus  Christ.  '  His  perfections  are 
each  of  them  interested  in  their  behalf;  his  providence  and 
grace  are  constantly  employed  to  promote  their  real  welfare ; 
and  no  good  thing,  which  either  his  wisdom  judges  fit  for  them, 
or  his  bounty  inclines  him  to  bestow  on  them,  will  he  ever  with- 
hold. To  all  which  I  have  only  to  add  one  circumstance  more, 
to  complete  our  idea  of  this  spiritual  kingdom  ;  and  that  is, 

6.  And  lastly,  Its  stability  and  duration.  It  is  a  kingdom 
that  shall  not  be  moved.  The  foundation  of  it  is  laid  in  the 
purpose  and  grace  of  him  who  wants  neither  means  nor  inclina- 
tion to  support  and  defend  it.  Having  raised  up  to  himself 
this  new  empire  out  of  the  ruins  of  human  apostacy,  whilst  he 
hath  taken  the  administration  of  its  affairs  into  his  own  hands, 
he  hath  condescended  solemnly  to  swear,  and  that  by  two  im- 
mutable things,  in  which  it  is  impossible  for  God  to  lie,  that  the 
gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it.  Thus  dignified  then 
above  the  favourites  of  the  most  powerful  monarch  on  earth,  it 
is  the  peculiar  felicity  of  the  good  man  that  he  holds  his  liber- 
ties and  possessions,  not  on  the  precarious  tenure  of  all  human 
things,  but  on  the  faithfulness  of  a  God,  who  hath  made  with 
him  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered  in  all  things  and  sure  a. 

PART  II. 

From  this  figurative  description  of  religion,  we  now  come  to 
consider  what  is  more  particularly  and  plainly  affirmed  concern- 
iner  it  in  the  text : 

II.  It  is  not  in  word,  hut  in  power.  It  is  not  in  word ;  it 
does  not  consist  in  notions,  professions,  or  external  forms,  things 
v.'hercin  men  are  too  apt  to  place  the  essence  of  it :  but  in 
power ;  it  is  an  inward,  spiritual,  vital  principle,  which  takes 
hold  of  the  heart,  and  diffuses  its  influence  through  the  life. 
So  the  text  is  expounded  by  a  similar  passage :  the  kingdom  of 
God  is  not  meat  and  drink,  it  does  not  consist  in  outward  ob- 
servances ;  but  it  is  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost  b.  These  are  the  very  essence  of  it,  and  constitute  its 
a  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5.  b  Rom.  xiv,  17. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  9 

true  and  proper  nature.  To  the  like  purpose  the  same  inspired 
writer  thus  expresses  himself"  in  another  place  :  He  is  not  a  Jew 
who  is  one  outwardly,  neither  is  that  circumcision,  which  is  out- 
ward in  the  flesh  :  but  he  is  a  Jew  who  is  one  inwardly,  and 
circumcision  is  that  of  the  heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the 
letter,  whose  praise  is  not  of  men,  hut  of  God  a. 

Here  therefore,  agreeably  to  the  order  observed  in  the  text, 
it  will  be  natural  to  inquire  more  particularly, 

First,  What  religion  is  not ;  and, 

Secondly,  What  it  really  is,  or  wherein  the  true  nature  of 
it  does  consist. 

First,  As  to  the  negative  part  of  the  question,  What  reli- 
gion is  not ;  it  is  lamentable  to  reflect  how  much  the  degeneracy 
of  mankind  hath  contributed  to  our  enlargement  on  this  head. 
One  would,  indeed,  at  first  view,  be  ready  to  imagine,  that  a 
general  contemplation  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  God,  and  of  the 
proper  use  of  their  own  intellectual  powers,  should  be  sufficient 
to  secure  men's  understandings,  however  depraved  their  disposi- 
tions might  be,  from  any  very  great  absurdities  here.  But 
alas  !  what  absurdities  can  imagination  devise,  which  have  not 
assumed  the  venerable  name  of  religion,  and  under  that  deno- 
mination claimed  the  serious  attention  of  mankind?  To  enter 
particularly  into  them,  would  be  almost  an  endless  task.  W^e 
must  not,  however,  wholly  pass  them  over  in  silence.  But,  in 
the  mean  while,  it  will  be  of  considerable  use  to  help  us  through 
this  maze,  if  we  take  the  pains  to  look  for  a  moment  into  those 
principles  of  the  human  heart,  which  have  the  main  influence, 
though  perhaps  without  being  observed,  in  forming  the  various 
religious  sentiments  which  commonly  obtain. 

Mankind  are  in  an  apostate  state ;  and  there  are  few  so  stu- 
pid, as  not  to  be  sensible  that  something  is  necessary  to  recom- 
mend them  to  the  Deity.  Now,  Pride  and  Self-indulgence 
being  the  two  prevailing  corruptions  of  the  heart,  that  scheme 
of  religion  will  be  most  acceptable  to  the  generality,  v/hich, 
while  it  flatters  the  one,  can  be  made  tolerably  well  to  consist 
with  the  other.  And  since  the  judgment  is  often  considerably 
influenced  by  the  will,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  men  by  de- 
grees come  to  think  those  opinions  true,  which  exactly  corre- 
a  Rom.  ii.  28,  29. 


10  THE  KATUR.L  OF  RELIGION. 

spond  with  the  very  spirit  of  their  depraved  nature,  though  they 
are  found,  when  stript  of  this  recommendation,  to  be  most  ab- 
surd and  ridiculous.  The  common  herd  of  mankind  will 
greedily  swallow  down  a  religion  which  is  made  thus  palatable 
to  their  taste,  without  troubling  themselves  to  consider  one  mo- 
ment about  it,  whether  it  be  a  reasonable  service.  And  as  to 
those  who  cannot  so  easily  submit  their  understandings  to  a 
glaring  imposition  ;  being  nevertheless  as  strongly  impelled  by 
the  same  corrupt  passions,  they  will  have  recourse  to  innumer- 
able refinements,  to  gild  over  their  fond  conceits  with  the  pleas- 
ing appearance  of  truth.  Upon  these  principles  then,  we  are 
enabled  to  account  for  that  almost  infinite  variety  of  mistaken 
notions,  which  prevail  in  the  world.  To  Pride  and  Sloth,  thus 
either  triumphing  over  the  understanding,  or  else  insensibly 
blinding  it,  they  owe  their  entire  origin  and  support ;  and  these 
depraved  tempers  are  the  grand  characteristics  of  them  all. 
Now,  by  the  help  of  this  clue,  we  shall  soon  find  our  way 
through  that  labyrinth  of  error  and  deception  which  is  before 
us,  and  discover  what  the  apostle  means  by  that  religion,  which 
he  emphatically  describes  as  consistfifg  in  Word  only. 

Under  this  denomination  then  is  to  be  reduced,  in  the  first 
place,  the  religion  of  the  Pagan  world,  which  consisted  in  the 
observance  of  certain  rites,  instituted  by  their  priests  and  law- 
givers, with  little  or  no  foundation  in  reason  or  common  sense. 
Their  beasts  we  see  them  leading  with  great  solemnity  to  their 
temples,  and  there,  amidst  a  crowd  of  unmeaning  ceremonies, 
offering  them  on  their  altars,  to  appease  the  wrath  of  the 
Deity,  and  entitle  themselves  to  his  favour.  Some  we  see 
sacrificing  this  animal,  and  others  that ;  some  bowing  to  a  calf, 
and  others,  more  devout  than  the  rest,  not  sparing  their  very 
children  from  the  flames.  History  will  acquaint  us  with  the 
different  forms  which  obtained  among  them  :  but  though  they 
were  so  various,  and  passed  under  so  many  changes,  yet  they 
were  all  expressive  of  the  same  temper,  and  were  all  adapted 
to  the  same  ends.  To  merit  the  divine  regards,  was  the  grand 
point  they  aimed  at ;  so  gratifying  their  Pride,  while,  by  a 
kind  of  commutation  for  their  vices,  they  enabled  themselves  to 
sin  with  the  less  uneasiness  and  remorse. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  11 

As  to  the  Jews,  in  the  next  place,  it  is  ackno'-vledgcd  that 
the  external  part  of  their  religion,  like  that  of  the  Pagans,  was 
very  showy  and  expensive  ;  though  with  this  material  difference, 
that  it  was  the  appointment  of  Heaven,  and  founded  in  the 
truest  reason,  since  the  whole  of  it  was  figurative  of  the  sub- 
limest  truths,  and  prophetical  of  the  most  interesting  events. 
But  mistaking  the  shadow  for  the  substance,  they  unhappily 
laid  an  undue  stress  upon  these  outward  observances,  making 
real  religion  consist  in  an  exact  conformity  to  them,  even  while 
they  were  expressly  cautioned  against  such  an  abuse  of  it.  So 
that  they  fell  into  the  like  absurd  manner  of  reasoning  with 
the  Heathens,  just  mentioned,  having  only  this  advantage  above 
them,  that  while  they  gratified  the  same  passions  of  Pride  and 
Self-indulgence  as  their  neighbours  did,  they  could  plead  the 
divine  authority  for  those  religious  forms,  behind  which  they 
all  the  while  sheltered  themselves.  They  boasted  of  the  king- 
dom of  God,  as  consisting  in  meats  and  drinks,  not  at  all  per- 
ceiving the  spiritual  intent  of  these  positive  institutions,  and 
wholly  wc^Qctmg  the  iveightier  matters  of  the  law,  such  2,%  judg- 
ment, mercy  and  faith  a. 

The  Papists,  again,  a  set  of  people  which  have  risen  up  in 
the  room  of  Pagans  and  Jews,  have  proceeded  uniformly  on  the 
same  principles  with  these  their  predecessors.  The  divine 
authority  of  the  scriptures  they  have  pressed  into  the  service  of 
depraved  reason ;  and  have  given  full  scope  to  the  favourite  pas- 
sions of  human  nature,  by  moulding  Christianity  into  an  entire 
consistency  witli  them.  Assuming  to  themselves  the  sole  right 
of  explaining  the  sacred  records,  they  have  insolently  dictated 
to  men  the  terms  on  which  they  arc  to  be  accepted  of  God. 
And  these  they  have  taken  care  to  settle  in  such  a  manner,  as 
effectually  to  flatter  the  pride  and  indulge  the  sloth  of  carnal 
minds,  and  at  the  same  time  secure  to  their  church  every  kind 
of  temporal  emolument,  which  their  unbounded  avarice  could 
wish  to  obtain.  To  these  ends  they  have  established  the  doc- 
trine of  iTierit  in  the  strongest  terms.  And  not  content  with 
maintaining  that  good  works  are  meritorious,  they  have,  in  effect, 
taught  men  thus  to  conceive  of  tlieir  bad  works  likewise.  And  so 
by  an  art  peculiar  to  themselves,  they  have  turned  vice  into  vir- 
a  3Iatt.  xxiii.  23. 


i§  THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

tue,  and  made  men  gainers  by  sinning.  Such  is  the  very  genius 
of  their  rehfion ;  and  how  it  hath  operated  to  produce  the  most 
fatal  effects  to  society  in  general,  and  to  individuals  in  particvi- 
lar,  the  history  of  many  ages  hath  fully  and  largely  shewn. 

But,  from  them  let  us  now  turn  our  eyes  to  Protestants,  and 
those  especially  of  our  own  country,  who  enjoy  the  free  use  of 
their   Bibles,   and  have  been  instructed  into  better  principles. 
Here  then  we  may  reasonably  expect  juster  notions  ol  things. 
And  true  it  is,  we  do  speak  with  abhorrence  of  those  fetters  of 
ignorance  and  superstition,  with  which  Paganism  and  Popery 
have  bound  the  coi/sciences  of  men.     We  do  stand  astonished 
at  the  follies  and  absurdities  which  have  so  generally  prevailed, 
and  can  hardly  forbear  mingling  contempt  with  all  the  pity  we 
feel  for  the  wretched  multitude,  who  are  stupid  enough  to  sus- 
pend their  immortal  interests  on  forms  and  pretences  of  so  ab- 
surd and  ridiculous  a  nature.     But,  alas  !    were  the  hearts  of 
the  generality  among  us  to  be  searched  to  the  bottom,  I  fear  we 
should  find  their  real  practical  notions  of  religion  to  be  as  incon- 
sistent with  the  dictates  of  right  reason  and  the  word  of  God, 
as  any  of  those  notions  we  have  been  describing.     For  what,  on 
the  one  hand,  is  their  religion  better  than  ivord  only,  who  con- 
fine their  idea  of  it  to  a  servile  and  superficial  observance  of 
the  common  rules  of  morality,  without  any  regard  to  those  di- 
vine and  evangelical  principles  which  can  alone  soften  the  heart, 
and  mould  it  into  a  cheerful  subjection  to  the  will  of  God? 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  what  fitter  term  than  this  can  be  used  to 
denominate  the  pretended  religion  of  such,  who,  while  they  con- 
fidently boast  of  their  clear  vieivs  of  the  gospel,  and  their  deep 
understanding  in  the  sublime  mysteries  of  it,  neither_/ee/Me  effi- 
cacy of  it  on  their  hearts  to  renew  their  perverse  and  wanton  tem- 
pers, nor  shew  forth  any  of  the  a,\mix3\Aii  fruits  of  it  in  their  lives? 
1.  As  to  the  former.     The  duties  of  morality,  it  is  acknow- 
ledged, are  substantial  and  important  realities.     The  interests 
of  society  depend  upon  a  due  attention  to  them,  and  they  can- 
not with  too  much  earnestness  be  pressed  upon  mankind.     But 
if  the  essence  of  religion  be  placed   in  the  bare  performance  of 
these  duties,  without  any  regard  to  the  principles  whence  they 
flow,  which  it  is  to  be  feared  is  the  sad  case  with  many;  it  will 
bo  no  difficult  matter  to  prove,  that  what  thus  assumes  the  veuer- 


THE  NATURE  OP  RELIGfON.  13^ 

able  name  of  religion,  is,  in  this  point  of  view,  not  only  a  vain 
and  empty  thing^  but  little  better  than  a  gross  impiety.  All  ac- 
tions must  proceed  from  some  principles,  whether  we  do,  or  do 
not  ourselves  regard  them.  These  principles  are  known  to 
God,  and  from  thence  the  conduct  of  men  will  take  its  denomi- 
nation as  either  good  or  bad.  Now,  what  in  the  divine  account 
is  that  sobriety,  honesty,  good  nature,  or  even  devotion  itself, 
which  arises  not  from  a  just  sense  of  the  real  intrinsic  excel- 
lence of  true  holiness,  or  from  any  generous  sentiment  of  grati- 
tude and  love,  but  merely  from  a  servile  fear  of  incurring  'the 
wrath  of  God,  or,  which  is  worse,  from  a  base  expectation  of 
meriting  the  rewards  of  heaven  thereby  ?  Surely  such  a  religion,, 
to  say  the  best  of  it,  is  but  an  empty  sound.  There  is  nothing 
substantial  or  animating  in  it :  nor  are  there  any  considerations 
to  hold  men  to  the  performance  of  the  several  duties  of  it,  but 
such  as  are  of  the  most  precarious  and  uncertain  influence. 

But  this  is  not  all :  it  is  as  impiotts,  we  may  add,  as  it  is  vain. 
For  what  are  men  doing,  all  the  while  they  are  thus  exalting 
morality  into  the  seat  of  religion  ?  They  are  treating  God  a» 
they  would  a  fellow-creature,  who  can  look  no  flirther  than  to 
outward  appearances;  and  under  the  notion  of  rendering  a 
dutiful  obedience  to  his  commands,  they  are  gratifying,  in  a 
very  high  degree,  both  their  pride  and  their  sloth.  The  one 
i\\ey  flatter,  by  offering  incense  to  this  wretched  obedience,  of 
which  they  so  much  boast  as  their  Saviour,  to  the  entire  ne- 
glect, if  not  contempt,  of  Christ  and  his  grace.  And  the  other 
they  soothe,  by  placing  a  few  external  actions  in  the  room  of 
the  more  difficult  and  important  duties  of  restraining  and  sub- 
duing the  corrupt  affections  of  the  heart.  Nay,  we  may  carry 
the  matter  still  farther,  and  affirm,  that  even  his  notions  of  re- 
ligion are  mistaken,  who  while  he  rightly  considers  the  govern- 
ment of  the  passions  as  the  grand  object  of  it,  nevertheless  sets 
about  this  work  on  false  principles,  vainly  presuming  that  he 
can  of  himself  make  a  sacrifice  of  his  depraved  affections  ta 
God,  and  insolently  expecting  that,  when  he  hath  so  done,  he 
shall  have  a  just  claim  upon  him  for  his  favour.  Such  a  tem- 
per stands  directly  opposed  to  the  genuine  spirit  of  evangeli- 
cal piety;  and  a  little  reflection  would  convince  men,  that 
while  it  pretends  to  religion,  it  absolutely  defeats  its  own  pre- 


14.  THE  NATURE  OF  REI IGION. 

tences.  For  in  this  case,  here  is  a  slender  restraint  laid  on 
one  passion,  merely  with  a  view  to  gratify  another.  Tliat, 
therefore,  can  never  be  real  religion,  which  hath  only  the  ex- 
ternal duties  of  morality,  or  even  of  devotion,  for  its  object ; 
nor  that  either,  which,  though  it  may  extend  in  some  sort  to 
the  affections  of  the  mind,  yet  hath  no  other  principle  to  put 
vigour  and  efficacy  into  it,  except  the  dread  of  incurring  the 
wrath  of  God,  or  the  vanity  of  meriting  his  favour.  But  while 
we  are  thus  attempting  to  rescue  the  injured  rights  of  religion 
out  of  their  hands  who  would  reduce  it  to  the  standard  of  mere 
morality,  how  are  we  instantly  seconded,  or  rather  prevented  in 
the  attempt,  by  the  furious  and  licentious  zeal  of  those, 

2.  Who  run  their  notions  into  the  quite  opposite  extreme  ! 
*'  True,"  says  a  man  of  this  character,  enjoying  an  entire  satis- 
faction in  his  own  superior  discernment,  "  a  legal  spirit  is  a 
diabolical  spirit.  Far  be  the  very  shadow  of  it  from  me  !  No 
— religion  consists  in  none  of  these  thing's.  It  is  such  a  clear 
apprehension,  and  such  an  unshaken  belief  of  the  sublime 
truths  of  the  gospel,  as  at  once  sets  the  mind  free  from  all  the 
shackles  of  slavish  doubts  and  fears,  raises  it  above  the 
drudgery  of  duties,  puts  an  end  to  the  fruitless  labour  of 
keeping  the  heart ;  and,  while  it  takes  the  attention  wholly 
off  from  itself,  so  fixes  it  upon  Christ,  as  to  relieve  it  of  all 
dull  anxiety  about  inward  holiness  and  personal  obedience." 
And  thus,  having  discovered  the  grand  secret  how  to  compose 
his  conscience,  amidst  the  violent  fever  of  inward  lusts,  if  not 
the  open  indulgence  of  vice,  he  looks  down  with  a  con- 
temptuous sneer  on  those  who  are  lamenting  the  remainders  of 
indwelling  sin,  and  humbly  aiming  at  a  conformity  to  the  di- 
vine likeness,  as  a  company  of  weak  and  deluded  persons,  if 
not  artful  and  designing  hypocrites. 

But  if  this  be  religion,  it  may  be  truly  said  of  it,  that  it  is  in 
word  only.  It  is,  literally  speaking,  a  vain  and  empty  sound  ; 
of  no  other  use  than  to  puff  up  the  heart  with  pride,  and  to  lay 
the  conscience  gently  asleep  in  sin.  Nay  it  carries,  upon  the 
very  face  of  it,  the  evident  marks  both  of  absurdity  and  im- 
piety. It  is  indeed  true,  that  a  legal  slavish  temper  of  mind 
is  very  unsuitable  to  the  free,  generous,  and  animating  spirit 
of  tlie  gospel.     It  disgraces  that  glorious  scheme  of  salvation 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  15 

wliich  abliors  the  least  approach  to  the  doctrine  of  merit,  and 
which  so  overpowers  tlie  humble  Christian  with  tlie  riches  of 
divine  grace,  as  to  obliirc  liim  to  treat  his  best  attainments  with 
the  utmost  contempt,  in  the  sight  of  an  infinitely  holy  God. 
Chi'ist  is  all,  and  in  all  a.  His  propitiation  is  the  only  ground 
of  a  sinner's  hope  towards  God  b ;  in  him  the  beloved  we  a?'e 
accepted  c  :  and  by  his  obedience  we  are  made  righteous  d. 

But  if  our  regards  to  him  are  to  be  considered  in  no  other 
view,  than  as  a  means  thus  to  relieve  us  of  our  fears,  and  to  make 
US  easy  and  secure  ;  the  grand  business  of  religion  is  overlooked, 
yea,  I  may  add,  the  main  intent  of  it  is  defeated.  For  if  there 
be  such  a  thing,  it  stands  to  reason,  that  the  principal  object  of  it 
must  be  to  recover  men  from  their  apostacy,  wherein  consists  their 
misery.  But  what  are  such  persons  the  better,  yea,  how  much 
are  they  the  worse,  for  a  knowledge  which  teaches  them  to  break 
the  bands  of  duty  and  conscience,  and  for  a  faith  which  enables 
them,  amidst  all  their  affected  expressions  of  humility,  to  riot 
in  pride  and  vvantonness  ?  Nay,  they  are  guilty,  so  deceitful  is 
the  human  heart,  of  the  very  same  thing  they  condemn  in  those 
of  the  opposite  character,  that  is,  of  secretly  building  their  hopes 
on  themselves,  instead  of  Christ.  For  while  the  others  lay  the 
whole  stress  of  their  everlasting  interests  on  their  external  re- 
formation, or  their  zealous  attachment  to  forms,  or  some  slight 
restraint  of  their  more  furious  passions ;  these  lay  the  same 
stress,  though  perhaps  unperceived  by  themselves,  on  the  clear- 
ness of  their  notions,  and  the  imagined  steadiness  of  their 
faith. 

Tlius  have  we  seen,  then,  wherein  consists  the  religion,  which 
our  text  tells  us  is  in  word  only.  And  however  it  may  be  dif- 
ferently modified,  and  assume  various  other  appearances,  besides 
those  which  have  been  mentioned;  yet  the  leading  principles  of 
it  are  every  where  the  same :  and  by  a  diligent  observation  of 
them,  the  imposture,  though  it  be  artfully  concealed,  may,  I 
think,  be  easily  detected. 

PART  III. 

PIaving  thus  shewn  what  religion  is  not,  it  remains  that  we 
now  inquire, 

rt  Col.  Hi.  11.         b  Rom.  iii.  25.  c  Eph.  i.  6.         d  Rom.  v.  19. 


16  THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

Secondly,  What  it  is,  or  wherein  it  does  consist.  And 
the  inference  is  so  natural  from  what  hath  been  already  ob- 
served, that  we  need  be  the  less  particular  here.  It  is  in 
power  ;  a  term  very  fitly  opposed  to  word,  as  it  is  expressive  of 
all  that  vigour  and  intenseness  of  mind,  which  distinguishes  the 
religion  of  the  heart  from  the  mere  notions  of  the  head,  and 
from  the  unanimated  obedience  of  the  life.  As  the  one  may 
not  improperly  be  compared  to  the  lifeless  corpse,  which,  in  his 
discourse  of  the  resurrection,  the  apostle  says,  is  sown  in  iveak- 
ness  ;  so  the  other  bears  a  resemblance,  at  least  in  some  degree, 
to  the  spiritual  body,  which,  adds  he,  using  the  same  word  as 
in  the  text,  is  raised  in  power  a.  There  is  a  strength,  force 
and  vital  energy  in  real  religion,  which  as  much  exceeds  any 
false  pretence  to  it,  as  the  original  does  the  picture.  The  one 
is  the  life  itself,  the  other  only  the  faint  copy. 

But  whilst  the  expression  in  the  text  naturally  leads  us  to 
conceive  of  it  in  the  most  lively  and  animated  point  of  view,  it 
by  no  means  countenances  the  wild  and  dangerous  conceits  of 
enthusiastic  minds.  Conceits,  which  form  a  species  of  religion 
somewhat  different  from  either  of  those  just  mentioned  ;  though 
with  reason  excused  a  place  among  them,  since  the  madness  of 
it  would  not  allow  us  to  describe  it,  as  a  deliberate  sentiment  of 
the  mind.  The  understanding  hath  little  to  do  here;  for 
while  men  of  this  unhappy  cast  place  the  whole  of  their  de- 
votion in  sudden  impulses,  ecstatic  visions,  and  other  wild  re- 
veries of  a  heated  imagination ;  they  Ao  not  leave  themselves 
possessed  of  any  certain  principles,  upon  which  they  can  at  all 
be  reasoned  with.  And  yet,  in  order  to  secure  some  appearance 
of  truth  on  the  side  of  their  delusions,  they  carefully  select 
from  the  scriptures  some  such  phrases  as  those  in  our  text  which 
they  persuade  themselves  do  fully  authorize  them.  But  while 
the  Bible  treats  largely  of  the  mighty  power  of  God  exerted  on 
the  hearts  of  them  who  beheve,  and  of  the  influence  of  the 
blessed  Spirit  to  enlighten,  quicken,  and  comfort  good  men  in 
the  course  of  duty  and  suffering;  it  is  sufficiently  evident,  that 
these  doctrines,  which  the  Christian  with  thankfulness  receives, 
as  some  of  the  most  glorious  discoveries  of  the  grace  of  God, 
are  words  as  well  of  soberness  as  of  truth  and  certainty.  No 
a  1  Cor.  XV.  43.  £v  lvva{/.u. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  17 

such  power  is  exerted  as  subverts  the  original  constitution  of 
our  natures,  and  having  deprived  men  of  their  reason,  leaves 
them  under  the  wretched  infatuation  of  a  deluded  fancy,  and 
enflamed  passions. 

And  yet,  of  religion  it  may  be  truly  said,  in  respect  both  of 
its  divine  origin,  and  of  its  substantial  nature,  that  it  is  in 
power.  How  it  owes  its  rise,  increase,  and  continuance  to  the 
mighty  power  of  God,  we  may  have  occasion  to  consider  more 
particularly  hereafter  ;  at  present  our  concern  is  alone  with  the 
nature  of  it.  It  may,  then,  in  general  be  described,  as  a  prm- 
ciple  of  divine  and  spiritual  life;  a  phrase  this  I  the  rather 
choose,  as  it  seems  the  fittest  to  convey  the  sense  of  the  text. 
It  is  the  vis  vit(S,  the  spring  of  life  and  action.  Its  nature,  like 
all  first  principles,  is  simple ;  though  it  expresses  itself  in  va- 
rious ways,  and  can  only  be  intelligibly  explained  by  its  opera- 
tion and  effects.  As  therefore,  when  we  speak  of  a  principle  of 
honesty  in  any  man,  we  mean  such  a  sentiment  of  truth  and 
uprightness,  as  being  fixed  and  established  in  his  heart,  regu- 
larly influences  his  conduct ;  so  of  a  principle  of  religion,  it  is 
such  a  perception  or  faith  of  the  grand  truths  of  it,  as  being 
deeply  rooted  in  the  mind,  produces  correspondent  fruits  in  the 
temper  and  life.  This  surely  is  what  is  meant  by  the  general 
terms  of  ^/<e  knowledge  and  fear  of  the  Lord,  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment; and  by  those  offaithf  hope,  love,  and  the  grace  of  God, 
in  the  New. 

To  learn,  then,  wherein  religion  consists,  we  need  only  con- 
template the  influence  of  this  principle  on  the  several  powers  of 
the  mind,  and  of  consequence  on  the  external  conduct.  If  it 
be  considered  in  reference  to  the  understanding,  it  expresses  it- 
self in  our  perceptions,  reasonings,  and  reflections  about  spi- 
ritual objects;  if  in  regard  to  the  conscience,  in  a  lively  impres- 
sion of  the  truth  and  importance  of  divine  things ;  if  as  respect- 
ing the  judgment,  in  an  approbation  of  the  things  which  are 
excellent;  if  the  will,  in  a  concurrence  with  whatever  appears 
to  be  the  pleasure  of  God ;  in  fine,  if  it  be  considered  in  refer- 
ence to  the  affections,  it  consists  in  the  direction  of  them  to 
their  proper  objects.  The  result  of  all  which  will  be  such  a 
course  of  behaviour,  as  is  in  the  general  answerable  to  tliis  state 
of  tlie  mind.     Now,  this  view  of  religion,  you  easily  see,  affords 

VOL.  I.  B 


18  THE  NATuni:  of  religion. 

an  almost  infinite  variet}'^  of  matter  for  description  :  for  as  is  the 
quality  of  those  objects  which  present  themselves  to  the  mind, 
so  will  be  the  dispositioiis  and  affections  of  the  heart  towards 
them.  By  tracing,  however,  in  a  few  words,  the  operations  of 
the  mind,  in  respect  of  the  principal  objects  of  religion,  we  shall 
collect  some  idea  of  what  is  the  proper  character  of  the  real 
Christian. 

1.  Is  the  blessed  God  the  object  of  his  contemplation?  Ap- 
prehending him  present,  he  falls  down  before  him,  struck  with 
solemn,  but  pleasing  sentiments  of  his  greatness  and  glory,  and 
filled  with  a  cheerful  but  venerable  idea  of  his  goodness  and 
mercy.  Incircled  in  his  full  orb  of  perfections  he  chooses  to 
behold  him,  mingling  the  awful  splendours  of  his  justice  and 
holiness,  with  the  softer  rays  of  his  tender  compassion  and  love. 
So  the  God  appears  in  the  face  of  the  man  Christ  Jesus ;  and 
thus  viewing  him,  the  Christian  fears,  hopes,  and  loves.  O 
God,  hoiv  excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the  earth  !  Thou  hast  set 
thy  glory  above  the  heavens  a.  Justice  and  judgment  are  the 
habitation  of  thy  tlirone :  mercy  and  truth  go  before  thy  face  b. 
Thee  will  I  dread — thee  will  I  adore — in  thee  will  I  trust. 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  There  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  besides  thee  c. 

2.  Are  his  eyes  turned  inward  on  himself?  The  scene  just 
beheld  is  now  awfully  reversed.  Instead  of  greatness,  purity, 
and  perfection,  he  beholds  frailty,  guilt,  and  misery.  Conscious 
he  is  indeed  of  an  immortal  nature,  capable  of  the  likeness  and 
fruition  of  God,  but  is  conscious  that  it  is  in  fallen,  ruined,  and 
wretched  circumstances.  With  a  passionate  exclamation,  there- 
i'ore,  the  natural  fruit  of  such  a  conviction,  he  cries  out.  Depart 
from  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man  d.  But  recovering 
himself,  he  adds.  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  const  mahe  me 
clean  e.  So,  oppressed  with  grief,  he  deplores  his  manifold 
sins ;  covered  with  shame,  he  bewails  the  sad  degeneracy  of  his 
heart ;  and,  for  ever  despairing  of  salvation  in  himself,  he  re- 
nounces all  confidence  in  his  own  merit  or  strength. 

3.  Is  the  blessed  Jesus  presented  to  the  view  of  his  faith? 
His  hope,   desire,  and  gratitude  kindle  at   the  sight.     With 

a  r.sal.  viii.   I.  b  Psal.  Ixxxix.   1-i.  c  Psal.  Ixxiii.  25. 

d  LuUt;  V.  3.  e  Matt.  viii.  2. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  19 

j)leasure  he  contemplates  the  person,  character,  sacrifice  and 
righteousness  of  the  Son  of  God.  Thankfully  he  receives  this 
provision  of  the  divine  mercy  for  the  most  unworthy,  firmly  he 
relies  on  it;  and  thence  alone  derives  his  hope  of  being  acquit- 
ted and  accepted  before  God.  To  his  instructions,  as  the  great 
Prophet  of  the  church,  allured  with  that  divine  wisdom  and 
grace  which  is  poured  into  his  lips,  he  readily  listens.  In  his 
mediation  as  the  great  High-priest  of  the  church,  encouraged 
by  his  faithfulness  and  compassion,  he  humbly  confides. 
And  at  the  foot  of  his  throne,  as  the  great  King  of  the 
church,  struck  with  the  majesty  and  mildness  of  his  pre- 
sence, he  cheerfully  pays  his  homage.  So,  in  the  language 
of  the  Bible,  he  looks  to  Christ,  believes  in  him,  and  obeys 
him. 

4.  Is  sin  the  object  of  his  attention  ?  With  detestation  he 
views  the  monster,  in  all  its  hideous  forms,  trembles  while  he 
surveys  the  features  of  shame  and  misery  in  its  countenance, 
and  fears  lest  he  should  be  overcome  by  the  subtle  arts  it  prac- 
tises. Urged,  nevertheless,  by  the  powerful  motives  both  of  in- 
terest and  love,  he  boldly  wages  war  with  this  mighty  enemy  in 
every  part  of  his  dominion,  resolving,  by  the  help  of  God,  to 
maintain  the  struggle  to  the  last,  and  expecting  the  victory  then 
through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  When,  O  when,  says  he, 
shall  this  foe  of  God  and  man,  this  restless  disturber  of  my  peace, 
this  cruel  incendiary  of  all  my  hopes  and  joys,  be  totally  van- 
quished and  destroyed  ! 

5.  Does  he  turn  the  eye  of  faith  on  the  icorld?  Though, 
alas  !  his  foolish  passions  are  too  often  elated  with  its  smiles, 
and  too  often  depressed  with  its  frowns  ;  yet  it  is  the  deliberate 
sentiment  of  his  judgment,  that  nought  beneath  his  God  can 
make  him  happy,  and  the  firm  resolution  of  his  heart,  that 
nought  beneath  him  shall  be  the  main  object  of  his  pursuit.  To 
acquiesce  cheerfully  in  all  the  pleasure  of  heaven,  he  considers 
as  the  noblest  attainment  of  the  divine  life  :  and  therefore,  at  the 
least,  aims  at  it  with  ardent  affection.  Nay,  glorying  in  the 
cross  of  Christ,  he  feels  himself,  in  a  degree  however,  thereby 
crucified  to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  him  a.     The  death  is 

a  Gal.  vi.  H. 
B  2 


20  THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION. 

gradual  and  lingering;    but  with  every  power  of  his  soul  he 
prays  it  may  be  sure  and  effectual. 

6.  Are  his  present  connections,  farther,  the  subject  of  his  se- 
rious contemplation  ?  His  heart  expands  with  benevolence  to  all 
mankind,  but  especially  to  those  with  whom  friendship  and  nature 
have  united  him.  A  cornpass-ionate  tear  he  drops  over  the  sin- 
ner, who  is  laying  violent  hands  on  himself:  and  the  humble 
convert,  whose  face  is  set  towards  the  New  Jerusalem,  he  con- 
gratulates. The  good  man,  whatever  be  his  complexion  as  to 
other  things,  he  cordially  embraces  in  the  armiS  of  his  love:  and 
to  the  man  who  hath  injured  him  he  hath  no  other  return  to 
make,  but  pity  and  forgiveness.     In  one  word, 

7.  Does  faith  bring  heaven  near  to  the  view  of  his  mind  ? 
That  idea  of  it  which  brightens  the  prospect,  and  affords  the 
most  animating  pleasure  to  his  heart,  is  the  united  perfection 
of  purity  and  bliss  which  shall  be  there  enjoyed.  O  happy 
place  !  where  God  is  all  in  all ;  whence  sin  as  well  as  sorrow 
shall  be  for  ever  excluded ;  and  where  holiness,  arrayed  in  all 
the  charms  of  divine  love  and  joy,  shall  reign  universal  and  with- 
out end.  When  I  awake  from  the  dust  of  death,  may  /  behold  his 
face  in  righteousness,  and  be  for  ever  satisfied  with  his  likeness  a. 

Thus  have  you  a  general  view  of  the  nature,  spirit  and  ten- 
dency of  true  religion.  And  now,  to  close  what  hath  been  said, 
with  how  much  reason  may  we, 

1.  Appeal  to  the  judgments  and  consciences  of  all  men, 
whether  there  is  not  a  real  excellency  in  what  we  have  thus 
been  describing.  Could  men  but  be  persuaded  to  divest  them- 
selves for  a  while  of  their  prejudices,  and  to  listen  to  the  sober 
dictates  of  their  understanding,  if  they  were  honest,  they  would, 
they  must  say,  that  it  is  the  most  amiable  object  which  can  be 
presented  to  the  human  mind.  It  is  not  that  cold,  dry,  lifeless 
business  which  the  formal  moralist  would  make  it :  nor  is  it  that 
wild,  rapturous,  unmeaning  thing,  which  tlie  mad  enthusiast 
would  represent  it.  It  is  a  rational,  a  substantial,  a  heavenly 
blessing;  an  emanation  from  the  Deity,  a  spark  of  fire  kindled 
in  the  soul  by  God,  and  a  well  oficater  in  tlse  heart  springing 
up  into  everlasting  life  b.  Nor  let  men,  because  they  are  them- 
selves wholly  estranged  from  the  knowledge  and  fear  of  God, 

rt  Psal.  xvii.  15.  b  John  iv.  14. 


THE  NATURE  OF  RELIGION.  21 

01"  because  they  can  point  out  imperfections,  follies  and  sins  iu 
the  characters  of  the  best  Christians,  from  tlience  hastily  con- 
clude, that  this  account  of  religion  is  mere  ideal  or  imaginary. 
For,  besides  the  professions  of  the  worthiest  men,  and  the  tes- 
timony of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  there  is  the  highest  reason  to 
suppose,  from  the  account  itself,  that  what  is  in  its  own  nature 
so  desirable  may  possibly  have  an  existence.  How  much  then, 
2.  Is  it  to  be  lamented  that  so  little  of  real  rehgion  is  to  be 
found  in  our  world  !  No  subject  perhaps  hath  more  generally 
employed  the  attention  of  mankind,  and  yet  none  hath  been 
more  shamefully  mistaken,  perverted  and  abused.  Som.e  have 
so  curiously  refined  upon  it,  and  others  have  talked  so  much 
and  so  loudly  about  the  circumstances  of  it,  that  the  thing  itself 
hath  been  overlooked,  forgot,  and  very  nigh  lost.  Can  the 
good  man  forbear  weeping,  whilst  he  beholds  this  ?  O  sad  sight 
indeed  ! — the  greatest  part  of  the  world  by  far,  amidst  their 
ready  acknowledgments  of  the  truth  of  religion,  bidding  open 
defiance  to  it !  and  the  rest,  most  of  them,  by  their  very  talk 
about  it,  hardened  into  a  state  of  absolute  insensibility  to  it  ! 
The  plainest  thing  made  a  problem  by  dispute  !  and  a  matter 
the  most  substantial  and  important  evaporating  into  mere  air 
and  smoke  !  Lament  it,  sincerely  and  heartily  lament  it,  Chris- 
tian ;  and  with  your  tears  mingle  your  fervent  prayers  to  God, 
again  to  revive  the  dying  interests  of  his  kingdom  in  the  world, 
and  to  spread  the  honours  and  triumphs  of  it  far  and  wide. 
To  close  the  whole, 

3.  Of  what  importance  is  it,  that  we  each  of  us  seriously 
examine  ourselves,  upon  this  question,  whether  God  hath  erect- 
ed his  kingdom  in  our  hearts,  and  in  what  it  consists,  whether 
in  ivord,  or  in  power  !  Are  we  the  bold  opposers  of  religion  ? 
the  nominal  professors  of  it  only  ?  or  the  real  partakers  of  the 
true  spirit  and  temper  of  it  ?  Unhappy  man  who  ranks  under 
either  of  the  former  characters  !  Remaining  in  this  sad  state 
to  the  last,  he  must  endure  the  weight  of  his  iron  rod,  whose 
mild  and  gracious  sceptre  he  hath  rejected  and  despised.  But 
happy,  thrice  happy  he,  who,  amidst  all  the  remains  of  weak- 
ness and  sin  which  attend  him,  can  from  his  own  experience 
attest  the  reality  of  religion,  and  to  whom  others  vvill  bear  this 
honourable  testimony,  that  God  is  in  him  of  a  truth. 


DISCOURSE  II. 

THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 
2  Tim.  hi.  5. Denying  the  power. 


JL  HE  nature  of  serious  religion  having  been  considered  in  the 
former  discourse,  let  us  now  enter  into  a  full  and  particular  proof 
of  its  reality.  At  first  view  indeed,  it  may  seem  unnecessary  to 
prove  a  point,  which  carries  its  own  evidence  with  it,  and  to  the 
truth  of  which  there  is  in  the  consciences  of  most  men,  I  think  I 
may  say  all,  a  very  strong  presumptive  testimony.  But  since  it  is 
to  be  feared  there  are  some,  who  would  fain  persuade  themselves 
to  question  the  reality  of  religion,  and  since  it  is  notorious  that 
the  generality  of  mankind  think  very  lightly  about  it ;  it  cannot 
but  be  of  considerable  use  to  set  the  argument,  plain  as  it  is,  in 
every  light  it  will  admit  of,  thereby  to  awaken  our  attention  to 
the  thing  itself,  as  well  as  to  remove  every  shadow  of  objection 
which  may  be  urged  against  it. 

It  might  then  be  very  naturally  expected,  that  our  reasoning 
on  this  subject  should  be  deduced  from  some  short  proposition, 
which  is  directly  and  fully  to  our  purpose :  but  as  Scripture 
for  the  most  part  takes  it  for  granted,  that  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  religion,  so  it  is  chiefly  employed  rather  in  a  diffusive  de- 
scription of  the  nature  of  it,  than  in  a  concise  and  express  affir- 
mation of  its  reality.  We  are  therefore  obliged  to  ground  our 
present  enquiry  on  the  passage  just  read,  which,  though  it  does 
not  directly  assert  what  we  would  prove,  yet  immediately  leads 
•us  into  the  unhappy  occasions  of  that  scepticism  and  dissipation 
of  mind,  which  too  generally  prevail ;  and  so  opens  our  way  to 
the  positive  evidence  we  have  of  the  truth  of  religion  itself. 

The  apostle  had  been  speaking  in  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  of  the  last  days.  A  phrase  which  some  interpret  of 
the  age  immediately  succeeding  that  of  the  first  establishment 
of  Christianity ;  and  which  others  refer  to  a  more  distant  period 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  23 

of  the  church.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  he  tells  us  that  in  these 
days  there  would  be  perilous  times.  Times  in  which  persecu- 
tion on  the  one  hand,  and  a  general  dissoluteness  of  manners 
on  the  other,  would  prevail  to  such  a  degree,  as  very  greatly  to 
try  the  faith  and  constancy  of  all  the  real  professors  of  religion. 
From  whence  he  goes  on  to  give  us  the  character  of  these  last 
days.  Me7i  shall  be  lovers  of  their  ownselves,  covetous,  boast- 
ers, proud,  blasphemers,  disobedient  to  parents,  imthanhfid,  mi- 
hohj,  without  natural  affection,  truce-breakers,  false  accusers^ 
incontinent,  fierce,  despisers  of  those  that  are  good,  traitors^ 
heady,  high-minded,  and  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of 
God.  To  all  which  he  subjoins  the  sad  and  striking  descrip- 
tion in  our  text :  Having  a  form  of  godliness,  but  denying  the 
power  thereof.  One  would  indeed  have  thought,  that  when 
men  were  arrived  to  such  a  pitch  of  wickedness  as  had  been 
just  represented,  there  could  hardly  have  been  any  circum- 
stance added,  still  farther  to  blacken  their  character.  But  there 
was  yet  one,  hypocrisy,  that  put  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
whole.  Amidst  these  bold  impieties,  so  contrary  to  the  dictates 
of  reason,  as  well  as  of  divine  revelation,  they  dare  to  call  them- 
selves men  of  God  and  religion  ;  and  under  the  mask  of  ex- 
ternal observances,  they  securely  indulge  the  most  diabolical 
passions,  and  with  little  or  no  remorse  perpetrate  the  most 
horrid  and  shameful  actions.  So  by  their  temper  and  conduct 
they  deny,  or  contradict,  the  true  spirit  and  power  of  that  re- 
ligion, the  external  appearance  of  which  they  fondly  assimie. 

The  language  of  the  text  is  so  expressive,  and  the  uses  to 
which  we  shall  apply  it  so  important,  that  it  will  be  necessary 
to  enquire  a  little  more  particularly,  what  is  meant  by  Godliness 
— what  by  the  Form  and  the  Power  of  it — and  who  they  are 
who  having  the  one,  do  yet  deny  the  other.     And, 

First,  As  to  Godliness.  The  term  properly  signifies  right 
or  acceptable  worship  a :  so  that  in  the  primary  sense  of  it,  it 
is  to  be  restrained  to  acts  of  devotion,  such  as  prayer  and  praise. 
Nevertheless  it  is  commonly  used  to  denote  all  that  part  of  re- 
ligion, which  respects  our  temper  and  conduct  towards  God. 
Thus  it  is  to  be  understood  here,  and  thus  it  stands  distin- 
guished from  the  duties  of  temperance  and  justice  in  that  pass- 


24  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

age  where  the  apostle  exhorts  us  to  live  soberly,  righteously  and 
godly  in  the  present  world  a.  Wherefore  godliness  compre- 
hends in  it  all  the  regards,  which  as  creatures  we  owe  to  him 
who  hath  made  us.  And  since  by  sin  we  are  reduced  to  an 
apostate  and  depraved  state,  and  God  hath  thought  fit  to  give 
us  an  extraordinary  revelation  of  his  will ;  it  follows,  that  there 
must  of  necessity  be  a  change  in  some  of  the  material  expres- 
sions of  our  obedience,  and  in  the  manner  it  is  to  be  performed. 
Faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  Repentance  towards  God, 
are  indispensably  necessary  to  form  the  character  of  the  godly. 
The'man  therefore  who  answers  to  this  description,  in  the  sense 
of  the  sacred  Scriptures,  is  he  who,  being  restored  to  the  know- 
ledge and  favour  of  God,  converses  with  him  in  his  duties,  imi- 
tates him  in  his  practice,  and  hopes  for  ever  to  enjoy  him  in 
heaven  ;  who,  sensible  that  he  hath  forfeited  the  divine  favour, 
considers  his  restoration  to  it  as  the  fruit  alone  of  the  mediation 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and,  on  this  principle,  humbly  fears 
to  offend  him,  and  cheerfully  aims  to  please  him.  Such  is 
godliness  or  internal  religion,  the  nature  of  which  hath  in  the 
former  discourse  been  fully  considered.      Now, 

Secondly,  As  to  the  Form  and  the  Tower  of  it.  These  are 
terms  which  require  very  little  explanation.  Some  indeed  in- 
terpret \!^c  form  of  godliness  in  this  place,  of  that  rule  or  direc- 
tory given  us  concerning  it  in  the  book  of  God,  and  which  the 
apostle  elsewhere  calls  \\\Qform  of  sound  words  b.  And  this 
many  have  in  their  hands,  who  it  is  to  be  feared  are  perfect 
strangers  to  the  thing  itself.  Nay,  too  many  there  are,  who, 
while  they  profess  a  regard  to  the  letter  of  the  Bible,  take  no 
small  pains  to  explain  away  the  spirit  of  it.  But  the  phrase  is 
rather  to  be  understood  of  the  external  observances  of  religion, 
such  as  the  assembling  together  for  the  worship  of  God,  and 
for  the  celebration  of  the  two  solemn  institutions  of  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation,  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper.  These  are 
t\iefo7'ms  of  godliness,  the  outward,  natural,  and  just  expres- 
sions of  it.  Now  to  these  are  opposed  the  power  of  it,  that  is, 
the  inward  sense,  feeling  and  experience  of  it ;  that  principle, 
spirit  or  temper,  which  animates  a  truly  Christian  man,  just  as 
the  soul  does  the  body.     Such  distinction  the  apostle  frequent- 

a  Tit.  ii.  12.  b  2  Tim.  i.  13. 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  23 

ly  makes :  as  when  he  says  to  the  Thessaloniaiis,  Our  gospel 
came  not  unto  you  in  ivord  only^  hut  also  in  power  a  :  and  to 
Timothy,  Bodily  exercise  profiteth  little,  but  godliness  is  pro- 
fitable unto  all  things  b.  Not  that  the  form  of  reH<rion  and 
\)iXQ  power  of  it  are  at  variance  :  no,  the  one,  as  was  just  observ- 
ed, is  the  natural  expression  of  the  other.  And  so  far  is  the 
word  of  God  from  treating  the  externals  of  rehgion  with  in- 
difference, that  it  exhorts  us  with  great  earnestness  to  pay  a 
serious  attention  to  them,  as  the  proper  means,  with  a  divine 
blessing,  of  begetting,  maintaining,  and  promoting  the  true 
spirit  of  godliness.  And  most  certain  it  is,  that  though  there 
may  be  theybnw,  where  there  is  not  the  reality  of  religion  ;  yet 
there  cannot  be  the  reality  of  religion,  where  there  is  not  the 
form  of  it.  But  the  latter  is  liere  opposed  to  the  former,  to 
intimate,  that  the  one  is  a  vain,  unacceptable,  useless  thing 
without  the  other.  And  from  hence  v/e  may  now  easily  collect. 
Thirdly,  The  true  character  of  those  who  are  said  in  our  text 
to  have  the  form  of  godliness,  but  at  the  same  time  to  deny  the 
power  of  it.  They  are  cither  such  who  rest  in  the  one,  with- 
out any  regard  to  the  other ;  or  such  who  assume  the  one,  with 
an  hypocritical  view  of  being  accounted  the  real  possessors  of 
the  other.  As  to  the  first  of  these,  few  words  are  necessary  to 
give  us  a  just  idea  of  their  character.  They  place  the  whole 
of  their  religion  in  external  rites  and  ceremonies,  vainly  ima- 
gining that  positive  observances  will  make  them  acceptable  to 
God  ;  while  they  pay  no  sort  of  attention  to  the  prevailing  tem- 
per of  their  hearts,  and  can  perhaps  allow  themselves  in  some 
practices,  which  are  absolutely  immoral  and  criminal.  Such 
there  have  been,  and  such  it  is  to  be  feared  there  now  are  :  nor 
is  it  to  be  doubted  that  they  come  within  the  description  in 
the  text.  They  have  no  true  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  spi- 
ritual religion,  and  have  no  just  sense  of  the  importance  of  it, 
if  they  do  not  even  in  speculation  deny  it.  And  then,  as  to 
those  who  hypocritically  assume  the  form  of  religion,  in  order 
to  gain  the  applause  of  men  :  however  they  may  talk  much  of 
their  regards  to  the  power  of  godliness,  it  is  as  evident  they  can 
have  no  firm  faith  of  its  truth  impressed  on  their  hearts.  Nay, 
their  behaviour  being  in  many  instances  wholly  inconsistent 
a  1  Thess.  i.  5.  6  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 


%G  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

with  their  profession,  men  of  atheistical  and  profane  minds  take 
occasion  from  hence  to  dispute  the  reality  of  what  we  would 
now  prove.  Thus  you  see  how  persons  of  both  these  charac- 
ters, do  either  absolutely  or  in  effect  deni/  the  grand  thing, 
which  in  appearance  they  may  seem  to  acknowledge.  And  in 
much  the  same  sense  the  word  is  to  be  understood,  where  the 
apostle  declares,  that  he  who  provides  not  for  his  own,  and  espe- 
cially those  of  his  own  house,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse 
than  an  infidel  a. 

From  this  general  view  of  the  words,  which  we  find  exem- 
plified in  many  sad  instances  before  our  own  eyes,  there  appears 
then  the  highest  reason  for  a  particular  consideration  of  the 
grand  question  proposed  in  this  discourse.  But  in  the  mean- 
while, it  will  be  of  use  to  inquire  briefly  into  the  principal 
sources  of  all  that  doubt  and  scepticism,  which  so  much  prevail 
in  the  world,  with  regard  to  the  reality  of  internal  and  spiritual 
religion.  And  these  are,  the  enthusiasm  of  some  who  call  them- 
selves Christians ;  the  manifest  hypocrisy  of  others  who  as- 
sume this  venerable  character ;  and  the  averseness  of  the  de- 
praved hearts  of  men  in  general  to  the  thing  itself,  which  is  in- 
deed the  main  cause  of  infidelity. 

1.  Prejudices  against  it  have  doubtless  been  confirmed,  if 
not  originally  excited,  by  the  enthusiasm  of  some  mad  pretenders 
to  religion.  Admitting  that  religion  is  a  spiritual  thing,  it  is 
easy  to  see  how  tliis  view  of  it  may  give  an  opportunity  to  per- 
sons of  a  lively  fancy,  weak  judgment,  and  heated  passions,  to 
ingraft  that  into  it  which  does  not  belong  to  it;  such  as  visions, 
dreams,  ecstacies,  and  other  whims  which  are  the  fruit  of  a  dis- 
tempered imagination.  So  its  real  appearance  is  changed,  and 
the  true  end  of  it  defeated.  And  thus  assuming  a  monstrous 
form,  it  terrifies  some  into  a  kind  of  obedience  to  it,  while  by 
its  absurdities  it  begets  a  hasty  notion  in  others  that  it  is  all  a 
delusion.  In  such  manner,  even  good  men  of  an  enthusiastic 
turn  of  mind,  have  by  overacting  their  part,  undesignedly  dis- 
graced religion,  and  made  many  around  them  rather  enemies 
than  friends  to  what  they  would  wish  to  promote.  This,  it  is 
not  to  be  doubted,  is  an  engine  of  Satan's  contrivance,  and 
hath  done  infinite  mischief  in  the  world.  Yet,  whatever  may 
a  1  Tim.  v.  9. 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  21 

have  been  the  reveries  of  some  well-meaning  Christians,  they 
will  by  no  means  authorize  the  conclusions  of  atheists  and  infi- 
dels; but  if  rightly  considered,  will  rather  furnish  a  probable 
testimony  in  favour  of  the  truth  of  religion.     So  likewise, 

2.  The  hypocrisy^  or  the  ill  lives  of  some  men  who  wear  the 
mask  of  religion,  is  a  common  objection  with  vast  numbers  of 
people  to  the  reality  of  it.  And  indeed  at  first  view  there  seems 
something  very  plausible  and  natural  in  their  usual  way  of  rea- 
soning on  this  sad  circumstance.  "  Here  are  men,  say  they, 
who  profess  a  high  veneration  for  the  scriptures,  are  very  zeal- 
ous in  their  attachment  to  positive  institutions,  affect  the  ut- 
most preciseness  and  singularity  in  their  appearance,  and  talk 
much  of  what  they  know,  feel,  and  enjoy;  and  yet  are  guilty 
of  the  most  shameful  immoralities,  such  as  covetousness,  deceit, 
oppression,  and  dishonesty.  What  shall  we  say  to  this  ?  If 
religion  will  not  restrain  its  warmest  advocates  from  vices  the 
most  hurtful  to  society,  there  surely  can  be  no  truth  in  it." 

But  the  objection,  however  plausible  at  first  view,  is  not 
fairly  urged.  The  conduct  of  particular  persons  will  not  admit 
of  so  general  an  inference.  The  conclusion  is  just,  that  their 
behaviour  gives  the  lie  to  their  profession,  and  that  they  are 
themselves  hypocrites  and  deceivers  :  but  it  doth  not  thence 
follow  that  religion  itself  is  a  delusion ;  unless  it  can  be 
proved  that  it  authorizes  or  countenances  such  a  conduct.  On 
the  contrary,  their  assuming  this  sacred  appearance,  that  they 
may  the  more  easily  impose  upon  others,  and  the  more  effec- 
tually compass  their  base  designs,  should  rather  lead  us  to  con- 
clude, as  will  hereafter  more  fully  appear,  that  there  probably 
is  a  reality  in  religion ;  since  they  act  upon  this  very  principle, 
that  religion  is  generally  supposed  to  make  men  good  members 
of  society,  and  that  therefore  wearing  this  habit,  they  shall  be 
the  less  suspected  of  the  evil  they  have  in  view.  Nay,  if  there 
were  not  a  notorious  inconsistency  between  the  professions 
and  practices  of  such  persons,  they  could  not  be  justly  deemed 
hypocrites,  nor  could  there  be  any  ground  for  the  charge  of  de- 
ception. Which  being  the  case,  the  objection  ceases  to  have 
any  real  force  in  it.  We  see,  however,  from  hence,  the  great 
importance  of  a  Christiiin^s  conducting  himself  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  preclude,  if  possible,  all  occasion  for  a  kind  of  reasoning  so 


28  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

absurd  in  itself,  and  so  dangerous  in  its  tendecy.  But  that  which 
hath  the  chief  influence  to  beget  and  promote  a  sceptical  temper  is, 

3.  The  averseness  which  prevails  in  every  deprr^ved  mind  to 
real  godliness.  Religion,  as  we  have  represented  it,  is  a  spiri- 
tual thing.  It  respects  objects  that  are  future  and  invisible. 
It  forbids  an  immoderate  attachment  to  sensible  enjoyments. 
It  lays  a  restraint  on  the  propensities  of  nature.  And  it 
thv/arts  and  opposes  the  most  violent  passions  of  tlie  human 
heart.  And  thence,  notwithstanding  all  the  real  and  important 
blessings  it  proposes,  it  is  disagreeable  to  an  unrenewed  mind. 
Now  we  know  from  frequent  experience,  that  the  will  hath  a 
considerable  influence  on  the  judgment ;  and  that  what  we  are 
not  disposed  to  believe,  we  quickly  find  out  various  ways  to 
persuade  ourselves  is  not  true.  Here  therefore  we  have  the 
principal  cause  of  all  the  doubt  there  is  in  the  world  concerning 
the  reality  of  spiritual  religion.  Men  do  not  like  it ;  and  so 
would  fain  rid  themselves  of  the  uneasiness,  which  the  supposi- 
tion of  its  truth  occasions.  This  puts  them  upon  having  re- 
course to  every  little  art  their  restless  and  depraved  wits  can 
devise,  to  weaken  and  obscure  the  evidence  of  what  is  thus  so 
extremely  irksome  to  them  ;  till  at  length,  having  silenced  the  re- 
peated clamours  of  conscience,  and  then  very  nearly  put  out 
the  eye  of  reason  itself,  they  dare,  stupid  and  ignorant  as  they 
are,  impudently  to  pronounce  it  all  a  lie. 

For  the  conviction  therefore  of  such  persons  if  possible,  or 
however  to  rouse  the  attention  of  the  thoughtless,  and  to  con- 
firm the  faith  of  the  Christian,  I  shall  endeavour  to  prove  from 
a  few  plain  topics  the  truth  of  serious  religion;  or  in  other 
words,  that  there  is  dL  reality  as  well  in  the  poiveVi  as  in  the 
form  of  godliness. 

PART  II. 

The  reality  of  religion;  which  is  the  point  we  have  now  to 
prove,  may  be  argued, 

I.  From  the  reason  and  nature  of  the  thing; 
'  II.  From  the  express  testimony  of  scripture  ;  and, 

III.  From  the  general  consent  of  all  mankind. 

I.  We  begin  with  the  reason  and  nature  of  the  thing.  What 
I  here  mean  is,  that  certain  principles  being  admitted,  which  are 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  29 

either  self-evident  or  are  capable  of  a  kind  of  proof  which  is  no 
less  satisfactory ;  it  will  clearly  follow  upon  the  most  sound  rea- 
soning, that  there  must  be  a  reality  in  spiritual  and  internal  re- 
ligion. 

].  As  to  those  principles  which  the  light  of  nature  teacheth,  and 
which  may  be  styled  self-evident,  as  being  generally  acknow- 
ledged; a  short  review  of  these  will  enable  us  to  describe  the 
outlines  of  religion,  and  so  to  ascertain  its  truth.  It  will  then 
be  readily  granted,  that  there  is  a  God;  that  he  is  a  spirit; 
that  all  perfection  is  to  be  ascribed  to  him  ;  that  we  receive  our 
beings,  capacities,  and  every  support  and  enjoyment  from  him  ; 
that  he  hath  a  right  to  our  homage  and  obedience  ;  that  our 
chief  happiness  consists  in  his  favour;  that  as  rational  creatures 
we  are  capable  of  knowing  him,  and  conversing  with  him ;  and 
that  he  being  an  all-perfect  spirit  hath  intimate  access  to  our  spi- 
rits. These  are  principles  which  need  not  be  proved.  And 
being  admitted,  the  consequence  is  most  obvious  and  necessary, 
that  if  the  proper  end  of  our  existence  be  attained,  there  must 
be  such  a  thing  as  contemplating  the  greatness  and  glory  of 
God,  fearing  and  loving  him,  trusting  and  delighting  in  him, 
submitting  ourselves  entirely  to  him,  and  at  once  imitating  and 
obeying  him.  This  is  religion  in  its  pure  and  primitive  state; 
and  these  arc  the  natural  and  genuine  expressions  of  it,  as  it  is 
felt  and  enjoyed  by  the  blessed  spirits  above,  in  the  highest  per- 
fection. 

Now,  as  it  is  reasonable  to  expect,  that  a  degree  of  this  di- 
vine and  heavenly  attainment  should  be  communicated  to  those, 
who,  as  will  hereafter  appear,  are  designed  for  that  blissful 
world ;  so  you  clearly  see  that  the  chief  business  of  it  must  re- 
spect the  inward  temper  and  disposition  cif'  the  heart.  Nay,  such 
is  our  original  frame  and  construction,  that  there  is  not  one 
power  of  the  human  soul  which  is  not  capfcble  of  some  one  reli- 
gious affection,  and  which  is  not  the  proper  seat  of  it.  So  far 
then  the  idea  of  religion,  as  opposed  to  mere  external  form  and 
appearance,  stands  approved  by  the  plain  dictates  of  reason  and 
common  sense.  Men  must  renounce  their  reason,  and  become 
downright  atheists,  if  they  will  affirm  that  it  hath  nothing  to  do 
with  the  heart  of  man,  and  respects  only  his  outward  behaviour. 
But  since  it  is  a  further  dictate  of  reason,  that  whatever  dis- 


30  THE  REALITY  OF  HELIGION* 

coveries  God  is  pleased  to  make  of  his  will,  they  are  all  the 
proper  objects  of  religion,  and  demand  such  dispositions  and  af- 
fections as  are  answerable  to  their  nature  ;  let  us  now  go  on, 

2.  To  those  other  notices  which  he  hath  actually  given  us  of 
himself,  and  of  our  condition  both  here  and  hereafter.  The 
proofs  indeed  of  their  authenticity  must  be  referred  to  the  next 
head  of  discourse ;  but  it  is  necessary  that  we  here  in  general 
mention  them,  to  complete  our  idea  of  religion,  and  to  enable  us 
from  thence  to  argue  its  pure  and  spiritual  nature.  If  it  be  a 
fact,  then,  that  the  soul  of  man  is  immortal,  and  will  exist  for 
ever  in  a  future  state  either  of  happiness  or  of  misery,  that  we 
are  all  guilty  before  God,  and  so  all  liable  to  his  wrath  ;  and  that 
we  are  all  through  sin  become  unlike  him,  and  so  incapable 
while  in  an  unrenewed  state,  of  truly  enjoying  and  serving  him  : 
if  it  be  a  foct,  that  God  hath  set  forth  Jesus  his  Son  to  be  a 
propitiation  for  sin,  and  hath  exhibited  him  in  a  great  variety  of 
other  views,  the  most  important  to  our  present  and  future  in- 
terests;  and,  in  a  word,  if  it  be  a  fact,  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
the  author  of  all  divine  and  heavenly  grace,  and  that  through  his 
effectual  influence  the  depraved  nature  is  formed  into  the  like- 
ness of  God,  and  fitted  for  the  everlasting  fruition  of  him  :  it 
follows,  then,  from  the  reason  and  nature  of  the  thing,  that  re- 
ligion must  be  that  internal  spiritual  concern,  it  hath  been  re- 
presented in  the  preceding  discourse. 

The  universal  apostacy  of  mankind  from  God  being  acknow- 
ledged, it  is  a  necessary  consequence  that  we  can  have  no  inter- 
course again  with  heaven,  without  contrition  and  humiliation  of 
heart ;  and  that  we  cannot  be  saved  and  become  happy,  without 
being  renewed  in  the  spirit  and  temper  of  our  minds.  Now 
the  very  expressions  of  repentance  and  renovation,  instantly 
convey  a  clear  idea  of  what  we  would  prove.  So  that  these 
exercises  of  the  soul  are  not  the  wild  flights  of  enthusiasm,  but 
real,  substantial,  rational  religion.  In  like  manner,  the  sacrifice 
and  mediation  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  being  admitted,  as  the 
only  ground  of  a  sinner's  reconciliation  and  acceptance  with 
God,  we  at  once  see  how  faith,  hope,  love,  and  joy,  enter 
deeply  into  the  experience  of  the  Christian,  and  become  the 
main  springs  of  that  new  life  he  lives,  and  of  that  new  obe- 
dience he  yields  to  the  commands    of  God.     The  same  also 


THE  REALITY  OF  IlELIGION.  31 

may  be  said  with  respect  to  the  influence  and  operation  of  the 
blessed  Spirit,  the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  of 
the  Bible,  and  the  glorious  realities  of  a  future  world.  Such 
is  the  nature  of  these  doctrines  that,  if  we  assent  to  them  as 
true,  we  must  be  sensible  that  they  are  adapted  to  strike  the 
heart  and  conscience,  and  to  influence  all  the  dispositions  and 
affections  of  the  soul ;  and  that  therefore  there  is  a  reality  as 
well  in  the  power  as  the  form  of  godliness.  If  God  be  a  per- 
fect and  spiritual  Being,  the  rational  and  spiritual  natures  with 
which  he  hath  endowed  us,  must  be  employed  in  his  service. 
If  we  are  sinners  and  reconciled  to  him,  the  notion  of  our 
guilt  and  his  mercy  teaches  us  our  obligations  to  faith  and  re- 
pentance. If  the  Son  of  God  be  set  before  us  as  our  Mediator 
and  Saviour,  the  Holy  Spirit  as  our  Guide  and  Comforter,  and 
the  joys  of  heaven  as  our  everlasting  portion  ;  there  must  be  ex- 
cited in  our  breasts  affections  suited  to  these  discoveries,  such 
as  hope,  confidence,  delight,  submission  and  obedience. 

But  it  will  be  said,  whence  does  the  reality  of  all  these  sup- 
posed objects  of  religion  appear?  For  an  answer  to  this  inquiry, 
we  shall  therefore  now  immediately  hasten  to  the 

II.  General  head  of  argument,  the  express  testimony  of  scrip- 
ture. And  here  we  will  in  a  few  words  shew — that  the  disco- 
veries which  have  been  just  mentioned,  as  the  principal  grounds 
of  religion,  arc  the  plain  dictates  of  the  Bible — that  this  sacred 
book  doth  thence  expressly  infer  the  reality  of  spiritual  and  in- 
ternal religion — and  then,  that  the  book  itself  comes  supported 
with  all  the  evidence  of  divine  testimony,  which  can  be  reason- 
ably desired. 

I.  It  can  hardly  be  questioned  that  what  hath  been  affirmed 
of  the  soul  of  man,  of  his  present  fallen  condition,  and  of  the 
method  of  his  recovery  to  the  favour  and  likeness  of  God,  is 
the  plain  language  of  the  Bible.  As  to  the  soul,  it  assures  us 
that  its  nature  is  spiritual  and  immortal;  that  however  men 
may  kill  the  body,  they  have  not  this  power  over  the  conscious 
spirit  within  a  ;  and  that  immediately  on  its  departure  hence, 
it  is  either  happy,  to  use  the  figurative  language  of  our  Saviour, 
in  the  bosom  of  Abraham^  or  being  in  hell,  lifts  np  its  eyes  in 
torment  b.  As  to  the  present  state  of  mankind,  it  is  declared 
a  Matt.  X.  28.  h  Luke  xvi.  23. 


32  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

to  be  depraved  and  ajDostate ;  that  wliercas  God  made  man  up- 
right^ he  hath  sought  out  many  inventio7is  a. ,-  and  that  there  is 
none  that  doeth  good,  no  not  one  h.  Ho  that  the  whole  world 
being  guilty^  he  hath  concluded  all  under  sin  c  ,-  and  if  he  ivere 
strict  to  mark  iniquity  no  one  could  statid  in  his  sight  d.  As  to 
our  recovery  from  these  guilty  and  degenerate  circumstances,  it 
is  expressly  declared  to  be  by  the  mediation,  sacrifice  and  righ- 
teousness of  Emmanuel,  God  with  us :  that  in  him,  the  beloved, 
we  are  accepted  e  ,-  that  through  his  blood  we  have  remission  of 
sinf;  and  that  by  his  obedience  many  are  made  righteous  g. 
And  in  a  word,  as  to  the  application  of  the  blessings  of  the  new 
covenant  to  the  hearts  of  men,  we  are  assured  it  is  by  the  in- 
fluence and  operation  of  the  Divine  Spirit :  so  we  are  said  to  be 
born  of  the  Spirit  h,  who  is  given  unto  us  i  ,-  and  divelleth  in 
us  k  ;  and  saved  by  the  washing  of  regeneration,  and  renewing 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  I.  Thus,  as  sin  hath  reigned  unto  deaths 
grace  reigneth  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life  by  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord  m.  Thus,  through  Christ  we  have  access  by 
faith  into  the  grace  wherein  loe  stand  n.  And  thus  we  rejoice 
in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God,  having  his  love  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  unto  us  o.  Such  are 
some  of  the  main  doctrines  which  Divine  revelation  teaches,  in- 
terspersed through  almost  every  page  of  sacred  writ,  and  illus- 
trated by  a  variety  and  copiousness  of  expression,  which  will  not 
admit  of  a  particular  recital  in  this  place.     And  now, 

2.  What  are  the  inferences  which  the  Scriptures  hence 
draw  as  to  the  nature  of  religion  ?  They  are  such  as  plainly 
shew  it  to  be  that  rational,  spiritual  and  practical  exercise  of 
the  mind  and  heart,  which  hath  been  already  so  fully  repre- 
sented. God  is  a  spirit,  and  they  that  worship  him  tnust  wor- 
ship him  in  spirit  and  in  truth  p.  He  desireth  truth  in  the  in- 
ward pai'ts  q,  and  looketh  not  on  the  outward  appearance,  but  on 
the  heart  r  ,-  wherefore  icith  the  mind  we  must  serve  the  Lord  s. 

a  Eecl.  vii.  2f>.  b  Rom.  iii.  12.  c  Rom.  iii.  19.  Gal.  iii.  22. 

d  Psal,  cxxx.  3.  e  Eph.  i.  6.  /  Matt.  xxvi.  28. 

g  Rom.  V.  19.  h  Johu  iii.  6.  i  Rom.  v.  5. 

k  1  Cor.  iii.  13.  I  Tit.  iii.  5.  vi  Rom.  v.  21. 

M  Rom.  V.  2.  o  Rom.  v.  5.  ]>  Jolm  iv.  24". 

q  Psal.  li,  6.  r  \  Sam.  xvj.  7.  s  Rom.  vii.  25. 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  33 

His  kingdom  is  not  in  word  but  in  power  a  :  it  is  7iot  meat  and 
drink  ;  hut  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost  h  : 
it  conieth  not  with  external  shew  and  observation^  but  is  within 
us  c.  We  are,  if  good  men,  the  temples  of  the  living  God  d, 
his  habitation  through  the  Spirit  e,  enlightened  by  his  pure 
word,  and  perfumed  with  the  sweet  incense  of  his  grace.  He 
dwells  in  us  and  walks  in  us  f.  His  grace  is  the  anointing 
which  we  have  received  of  God,  and  which  ahidcth  in  us  g. 
The  good  seed  which  he  hath  sown  in  the  heart,  and  which 
remaineth  there  h.  And  the  water  of  life  ichicJt  he  hath  given 
utifo  lis,  and  which  is  in  us  a  well  of  wafer  sp?'ingi7ig  up  unto 
everlasting  life  i.  It  is  the  hidden  nian  of  the  heart,  and  that 
apparel  which  is  not  corruptible,  and  which  is  in  the  sight  of 
God  of  great  price  k.  In  short,  the  fruits  of  it  are  love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gerdleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness  and 
temperance  I.  So  that  he  is  not  a  Jew,  that  is,  a  man  of  real 
religion,  ivho  is  one  outicardly ;  neither  is  that  circumcision 
which  is  outward  in  the  flesh  :  but  he  is  a  Jew  who  is  one  in- 
wardly -,  and  circumcision  is  that  of  tJte  heart,  in  the  spirit,  and 
not  in  the  letter,  ivhose  praise  is  not  of  men  but  of  God  m. 

Thus  do  the  sacred  records  every  where  describe  the  nature, 
and  assert  the  reality  of  serious  religion,  assuring  us  that  the 
heart  is  the  grand  seat  of  it,  and  exemplifying  the  genuine 
effects  of  it,  with  the  various  weaknesses  and  imperfections 
which  attend  it,  in  the  writings  and  lives  of  the  most  eminent 
patriarchs,  prophets,  and  apostles,  who  have  flourished  in  the 
church  of  God.     And  if, 

3.  The  scriptures,  which  thus  ascertain  the  grounds  of  reli- 
gion, and  from  thence  infer  the  spiritual  and  practical  nature  of 
it,  shall  clearly  appear  to  be  a  book  divinely  inspired,  and  truly 
containing  the  mind  and  will  of  God,  the  grand  point  to  be 
proved  will  surely  be  established  by  the  fullest  and  best  evi- 
dence. And  who  can  with  any  pretence  of  reason  c|uestion  the 
divinity  of  this  book,  while  he  reflects  on  the  character  of  the 
writers  of  it?    Men  wlio,  as  they  affirmed  they  were  inspired  of 

a  1  Cor.  iv.  20,  b  Rom.  xiv.  17.  c  Lukexvii.  20,  21. 

d  2  Cor.  vi.  IG.  e  Eph.  ii.  2i.  /2  Coi.  vi.  16. 

g  I  John  ii.  27.  //  I  John  iii.  9.  i  John  iv.  11. 

k  1  Pet.  iii.  k  I  Gal.  v.  22,  23.  m  Rom.  ii.  28,  29, 
VOL.  I.                                                  G 


34  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

God,  SO  appear,  by  their  plain  aud  nervous  manner  of  writing, 
to  have  been  no  enthusiasts,  on  the  one  hand ;  and,  by  their  up- 
rio-ht  and  unblameable  lives,  to  have  been  no  impostors,  on  the 
other.  Men  who  boldly  withstood  the  prevailing  passions  and 
prejudices  of  mankind,  exposed  themselves  hereby  to  the  great- 
est inconveniences  and  sufi'eriugs,  and  many  of  them  actually 
laid  down  their  lives  in  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  they  taught. 
Who  can  admit  a  suspicion  of  the  truth  of  this  book,  while  he 
duly  considers  the  antiquity  and  simplicity  of  it ;  the  purity, 
excellence  and  sublimity  of  the  discoveries  it  makes ;  and  the 
many  wonderful  facts  it  relates,  especially  the  miracles,  death, 
resurrection  and  ascension  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  all  which 
are  supported  by  the  most  natural  and  convincing  testimony? 
Who  can  doubt  of  this,  while  he  farther  takes  into  his  account 
the  various  prophecies  therein  contained,  the  exact  accomplish- 
ment of  some  of  them  in  former  ages,  as  appears  by  profane  as 
well  as  sacred  history,  and  the  fulfilment  of  others  in  our  own 
times,  particularly  those  respecting  the  present  state  of  Judaism^ 
Popery  and  Mahometanism  ?  To  which  must  be  added  the 
amazincf  success  and  spread  of  the  gospel  upon  the  first  publica- 
tion of  it,  and  the  admirable  fruits  it  hath  uniformly  produced 
in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  men,  wherever  it  hath  been  dispensed 
in  its  native  and  genuine  simplicity.  Nor  have  we  any  reason 
to  doubt  that  the  Bible  hath  been  truly  conveyed  down  to  us ; 
since,  besides  all  the  other  evident  marks  of  authenticity  which 
are  clearly  to  be  seen  upon  it,  the  New  Testament,  with  which 
the  Old  stands  intimately  and  necessarily  connected,  is  suffi- 
ciently proved  to  be  incorrupt,  by  the  many  versions  it  very 
early  received  into  various  different  languages,  and  by  the  nu- 
merous citations  made  from  it  by  some  of  its  bitterest  ene- 
mies. 

The  principles  of  religion  being  thus  laid  down,  and  the  spi- 
ritual nature  of  it  thence  expressly  inferred,  in  a  book  vihich 
tlius  evidently  appears  to  have  come  from  God,  the  point  to  be 
proved  is,  you  see,  established  by  divine  authority.  We  are  as- 
sured, as  if  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  that  godliness  is  not  a  mere 
form,  but  that  there  is  a  real,  substantial,  vital  energy  in  it,  and 
that  it  is  in  truth,  the  word  of  God,  which  effectually  ivorheth  in 
all  them  that  believe. 


V  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  '35 

PART  III. 

It  now  remains  that  we  complete  the  evidence  wliich  hath 
been  adduced,  by  adding, 

III.  The  consent  of  mankind  iti  general,  at  some  season  or 
other  of  their  Hves,  to  this  important  truth.  And  however 
sceptical  or  unbelieving  some  men  may  be,  and  however  the 
conduct  of  others  may  contradict  their  profession ;  yet  we  may 
be  bold  to  affirm,  that  this  hath  been,  and  still'is  the  case. 

I.  Let  tlie  man  of  a  dissolute  and  profane  character  stand 
forth  and  say,  whether,  amidst  all  his  ignorance,  folly  and  im- 
piety, he  hath  not,  on  some  occasion  at  least,  felt  an  alarming  at- 
testation in  his  breast  to  the  divinity  of  religion.  There  is  such 
a  thing  surely  as  conscience.  And  that,  like  a  faithful  monitor, 
hath  in  a  thousand  instances  been  heard  to  say,  "  Verily  there 
is  a  reward  for  the  righteous,  there  is  a  God  ivho  judgeth  in  the 
earth.  His  eye  is  upon  thee  ;  and  all  thy  thoughts,  disposi- 
tions and  resolutions,  as  well  as  all  thine  outward  actions,  he 
ivill  one  day  bring  into  judgment."  Yea  conscience  hath  as- 
sumed the  character  of  a  judge,  as  well  as  a  monitor,  arraigned 
the  sinner  at  its  awful  tribunal,  entered  into  the  secrets  of  his 
heart,  and  having  accused,  convicted  and  condemned  him,  hath 
as  it  were  ordered  him  forth  to  execution.  And  Oh  !  the  ex- 
treme anguish  of  the  wicked,  while  they  have  thus  heard  the 
just  sentence  of  divine  wrath  pronounced  in  their  ears ;  and 
have  felt  the  beginnings  of  future  misery,  in  all  the  fear,  shame 
and  confusion  which  the  present  apprehension  of  it  excites. 
How  have  their  countenances  changed,  like  Belshazzar's  at  the 
siffht  of  the  finjTer  against  the  wall !  And  how  have  their 
thoughts  troubled  them,  so  that  the  joints  of  their  loins  have 
been  loosed,  and  their  hnees  have  smote  one  against  another ! 
To  such  checks,  such  starts,  such  fits  of  melancholy,  or  what- 
ever other  name  may  be  given  it,  few  wicked  men  are  perfect 
strangers.  And  though,  when  the  paroxysm  is  ovei",  and  the  vio- 
lence of  their  fears  is  somev»hat  abated,  they  may  take  pains  to 
persuade  themselves  out  of  a  belief  of  the  just  and  natural  con- 
sequence of  these  convictions,  by  fond  conceits  of  superstition, 
imagination  and  bodily  disorder;  yet  surely  they  cannot  coolly 
reflect  on  what  hath  passed,  without  shrewdly  suspecting  that 

c  2 


S6  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGIOlSr. 

there  Is  such  a  thing  as  religion,  and  that  conscience  is  the 
counterpart  of  God's  holy  word.  Such  then  are  the  feelings  of 
the  profligate. 

And,  admitting  that  there  are  some  few  of  this  character, 
who  in  the  midst  of  life  and  health  have  the  happiness,  as  they 
judge  it,  to  escape  these  tempests  within  ;  there  are  neverthe- 
less innumerable  instances  of  bad  men,  who,  in  the  immediate 
view  of  an  eternal  world,  have  been  obliged  to  join  issue  with 
the  Bible,  and  to  acknowledge  in  the  presence  of  surrounding 
spectators,  that  this  is  no  mmiingly  devised  fable,  but  a  most  im- 
portant reality.  And  hovv'ever  even  the  soberer  part  of  man- 
kind may,  too  many  of  them,  think  lightly  of  the  inward  power 
o^  godliness  ;  yet,  when  the  interesting  scenes  of  a  future  state 
are  very  nearly  before  their  eyes,  there  are  few  of  them  but  do 
acknowledge,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  that  something  more 
is  necessary  to  make  them  meet  for  the  enjoyment  of  God, 
than  that  general  decency  of  external  conduct  in  which  they 
have  unhappily  placed  the  essence  of  religion.  Thus  you  see 
the  men  wlio  deny  the  power  of  godliness,  whether  we  take 
them  from  among  the  openly  profane,  or  those  of  only  a  mere 
moral  behaviour,  tliey  are  all  obliged,  at  some  time  or  other  of 
their  lives,  to  fall  in  with  the  convictions  of  conscience,  and  to 
submit  to  the  mighty  force  of  truth.  But  to  their  testimony 
may  be  added, 

2.  That  of  hypocrisy  itself.  A  kind  of  proof  this  which, 
however  unnatural  it  may  seem  at  first  view,  will  on  examina- 
tion appear  no  less  rational  and  convincing  than  that  just  men- 
tioned. Hypocrites,  it  is  well  known,  freely  and  openly  de- 
clare their  firm  faith  of  the  truth  of  serious  religion.  But  it 
is  not  to  their  professions,  however  positive  and  clamorous,  that 
any  regard  is  here  paid,  since  it  is  agreed  on  all  hands  that  they 
are  bad  men,  and  that  therefore  their  word  is  not  to  be  credit- 
ed, especially  in  a  matter  wherein  it  is  their  interest  to  deceive. 
They  have  not  put  off  the  old  man,  as  some  one  expresses  it, 
but  only  put  the  neiv  upon  it.  Yet,  from  a  contemplation  of 
the  entire  character,  motives  and  conduct  of  such  persons,  an 
inference  may  be  drawn,  which  amounts  to  at  least  a  very 
strong  presumptive  proof  of  the  grand  point  in  question.  A 
hypocrite  is  one  v/ho  assumes  a  character  which  docs  not  belong 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  37 

to  him,  in  order  thereby  to  impose  upon  others,  and  so  gain 
some  advantage  to  himself.  Now  the  character  he  assumes 
must  itself  have  something  excellent  and  pleasing  in  it,  and 
must  be  supposed  to  have  a  real  existence  somewhere,  other- 
wise his  assuming  it  could  be  of  no  advantage  to  him  at  all. 
No  designing  man  would,  in  order  to  gain  the  confidence  and 
€steem  of  another,  put  on  an  appearance  which  is  unfavourable 
and  very  generally  disapproved;  or  pretend  to  that  which  is  in 
its  own  nature  impossible,  or  however  most  unlikely  to  be 
deemed  true. 

To  apply  this  then  to  matters  of  religion.  Here  is  one  who 
confidently  affirms  he  is  what  a  man  of  godliness  hath  been  re- 
presented to  be.  It  is  admitted  that  he  is  not  such  a  person, 
that  he  aims  to  deceive,  and  that  he  expects  to  acquire  some 
worldly  emolument  thereby.  But  does  it  hence  follow,  that 
godliness,  the  appearance  of  which  he  hath  thus  drawn  like  a 
vail  over  his  iniquity,  is  itself  a  delusion  ?  No  surely.  There 
rather  hence  arises  a  very  strong  presumption  in  favour  of  the 
truth  of  it.  For  if  this  man  be  artful,  as  most  hypocrites  are, 
it  is  hardly  imaginable  that  he  would  set  up  a  claim  to  what  has 
no  foundation  at  all,  either  in  excellency  or  in  truth.  It  is 
therefore,  on  the  contrary,  the  plain  language  of  his  conduct, 
that  the  character  he  mimics  is  a  possible  and  probable  one, 
that  it  is  truly  excellent  and  venerable,  and  moreover  that  wise 
and  good  men  have  actually  professed  it,  and  been  generally  sup- 
posed to  be  endowed  with  it.  For  if  thus  much  be  not  admit- 
ted, hypocrisy  would  be  a  mighty  harmless  thing,  and  the  pre- 
tender to  religion  would  rather  deserve  the  name  of  an  enthu- 
siast than  a  deceiver. 

To  the  resentment  then  which  mankind  commonly  feel  at  the 
very  name  of  a  hypocrite  we  may  appeal,  for  at  least  the  high 
probability  of  the  truth  of  religion.  There  cannot  be  a  sem- 
blance without  a  reality,  a  shadow  without  a  substance,  a  picture 
without  an  original.  Wherever  therefore  we  see  a  hypocrite, 
we  have  a  clear  and  undeniable  proof  before  our  eyes,  that  some 
worthy  persons  do  profess  religion,  and  likewise  a  strong  pre- 
sumptive evidence  that  what  they  thus  profess  is  true.  Thus 
one  of  the  sharpest  and  most  successful  weapons,  which  hath 
ever  been  employed  in  the  service  of  infidelity,  may  with  a  very 


38  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

little  reflection,  be  wrested  out  of  its  hands,  and  turned  with 
double  fury  on  itself.  And  thus,  a  vice  the  most  detestable  of 
all  others,  may  in  some  sort  atone  for  the  infinite  mischief  it 
hath  done  in  the  world,  by  becoming  an  able  advocate  for  the 
truth  it  once  persecuted  and  abused.  But  there  are  other  wit- 
nesses to  be  examined  on  this  important  question,  who,  though 
they  may  be  prejudiced  in  favour  of  the  fact  they  attest,  yet 
justly  merit  an  impariial  hearing.     These  are, 

3.  Good  men.  By  good  men  we  here  mean  those  who  arc 
generally  acknowledged  to  be  such,  who,  whether  religion  be 
or  be  not  true,  are  amiable  patterns  of  virtue,  and  useful  mem- 
bers of  society.  Now  if  persons  of  this  character  do  most,  if 
not  all  of  them,  profess  a  regard  to  the  power  of  godliness ;  if 
what  they  profess  hath  in  its  own  nature  a  tendency  to  excite 
them  to  a  conduct  thus  excellent  and  praise-worthy ;  if  they 
assure  us  that  it  is  this  sense  of  religion  upon  their  spirits  which 
disposes  them  to  behave  in  this  manner;  if  they  adhere  to  their 
profession  amidst  all  opposition;  and,  in  a  word,  if  they  ex- 
press their  satisfaction  as  to  the  truth  and  importance  of  reli- 
gion, when  in  the  immediate  views  of  death ;  their  testimony, 
added  to  the  proofs  already  brought,  must  surely  set  this  matter 
with  every  impartial  mind,  beyond  a  doubt. 

It  is  indeed  acknowledged  that  there  may  be  persons  of  an 
external  good  behaviour,  whose  motives  rise  no  higher  than 
mere  principles  of  humanity  and  good  nature.  But  it  is  a  fact 
not  to  be  disputed,  that  the  most  respectable  and  worthy  charac- 
ters which  have  adorned  the  world,  and  to  which  even  infidels 
themselves  have  borne  an  honourable  testimony,  have  been 
found  among  the  friends  of  serious  religion.  Integrity,  meek- 
ness, benevolence,  and  the  other  social  virtues,  have  ever  been 
the  offspring  of  a  lively  faith  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  2 he  grace 
of  God,  which  bringeth  salvation,  teacheth  men  to  deny  all  un- 
godliness and  worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  righteously,  and  soberly, 
and  godly  in  the  present  evil  world  a.  Such  is  the  very  spirit 
of  the  Christian  institution.  When  therefore  the  good  man 
declares  that  it  thus  operates  on  his  heart,  his  declaration,  so 
entirely  consonant  to  every  dictate  of  sound  reason,  and  so  well 
supported  by  the  general  course  of  his  life,  may  justly  demand 
a  Tit.  ii.  IJ,  12. 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  39 

our  credit;  especially  when  we  see  him  persisting  in  tliis  his 
profession,  amidst  all  the  contempt  and  obloquy  cast  upon  him 
by  a  profane  world,  and  even  in  the  extreme  moments  of  life, 
when  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  the  most  refined  hypocrisy  to 
conceal  the  genuine  sentiments  of  the  heart. 

Let  us  figure  to  ourselves,  then,  the  man  of  religion  in  his 
real  and  proper  character,  and  say  whether  a  strong  presump- 
tive evidence  of  the  truth  of  godliness  does  not  hence  force 
itself  on  our  consciences.  Nor  will  we  exalt  the  Christian 
above  humanity,  or  dress  him  in  the  fair  habit  which  flattery 
may  have  too  often  given  him :  but  we  will  view  him  as  he  is, 
a  frail,  imperfect  sinful  man ;  yet  behaving  under  the  command- 
ing influence  of  those  divine  truths  he  professes,  and  labouring 
to  adorn  them  by  a  holy  and  unblameable  conversation.  Behold 
him,  then,  honest  in  his  dealings,  faithful  to  his  engagements, 
and  chaste  in  his  connections ;  daily  lamenting  innumerable 
mistakes,  yet  afraid  of  sin  and  of  every  distant  approach  to  it ; 
using  the  world  to  the  purposes  of  cheerfulness  and  benevolence, 
yet  not  abusing  it  to  covetousness  or  profligacy ;  fearful  of  temp- 
tation, yet  resolutely  opposing  it ;  feeling  his  afHictions,  yet  not 

daring  to  murmur  at  them  ;  aiminjj  to  do  ffood,  thoueh  often  dis- 
co ^  &  Ci  ^  G 

appointed  in  his  attempts:  in  fine,  a  lover  of  good  men,  a  friend 
of  society,  and  a  blessing  to  all  around  him.  And  now  hear  him, 
his  character  thus  established,  pronouncing  religion  in  the  light 
it  hath  been  represented,  a  substantial  and  important  truth, 
openly  professing  it  in  the  face  of  the  whole  v/orld,  and  renoun- 
cing his  temporal  interests  for  the  sake  of  it.  Hear  all  this 
and  say,  whether  a  testimony,  thus  authenticated,  ought  not, 
will  not  have  weight  with  every  thoughtful  mind. 

But  if  this  does  not  satisfy,  if  a  secret  dislike  of  religion  still 
forces  on  the  mind  a  doubt  of  the  good  man's  sincerity,  follow 
him  to  his  dying  bed,  see  him  lying  thereon,  with  a  cheerful 
composure  of  mind,  and  take  from  his  own  lips  the  evidence  he 
faithfully  gives  in  favour  of  what  he  hath  dared  to  profess,  and 
what  hath  been  the  governing  principle  of  his  life.  "  J'erihj, 
says  he,  there  is  a  reward  for  the  righteous,  there  is  a  God  who 
judgeth  in  the  earth.  This  hath  been  ray  firm  faith,  and  is  now 
the  joy  of  my  heart.  Religion  is  a  reality ;  its  power  I  feel,  its 
supports  I  enjoy.     In  God  I  have  put  my  trust,  and  he  is  faith- 


40  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

ful  and  good.  To  Christ  I  have  committed  my  everlasting  in- 
terests, and  he  is  able  to  keep  them  against  that  day.  Heaven, 
unworthy  as  I  am,  I  hope  shortly  to  possess,  and  to  possess  it  as 
the  free  cfift  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord.  O  how 
my  heart  aspires  to  that  pure  and  exalted  state  !  Thanks  be  to 
the  good  Spirit  of  God,  who  hath  wrought  me  for  this  self-same 
thing.  I  have  iraited,  O  Lord,  for  thy  salvation — I  have  seen 
it — let  me  notv  depart  in  peace — into  thy  hands  I  resign  my 
spirit."  The  force  of  such  evidence  is  hardly  to  be  withstood 
— the  heart  feels  it — the  conscience  yields  to  it.  And  that  this 
bath  been  the  fact  in  many  pleasing  instances,  is  not  to  be  ques- 
tioned. 

Thus  we  have,  I  hope,  fully  proved  the  truth  of  internal  re- 
ligion, from  the  reason  aiid  nature  of  the  thing,  from  the  express 
testimony  of  Scripture,  and  from  the  general  consent  of  mankind. 
What  remains  now,  but  that  we  spend  a  few  moments — in  ex- 
postulating with  the  unbeliever  on  his  folly  and  madness — in  re- 
proaching the  disingenuity  and  baseness  of  the  hypocrite — and 
in  congratulating  the  Christian  on  the  real  happiness  he  pos- 
sesses? 

1.  Is  there  a  man,  who,  after  what  hath  been  said,  can  lay 
his  hand  upon  his  breast,  and  say  he  firmly  believes  that  the  re- 
ligion of  the  heart  is  all  a  fable  ?  One  should  imagine  it  is  im- 
possible. But  if  such  an  instance  is  to  be  found,  we  may  be 
bold  to  affirm,  and  that  without  any  breach  of  charity,  that  a  sen- 
tence thus  pronounced  in  favour  of  vice  and  sin,  can  never  be 
the  genuine  dictate  of  the  conscience.  To  believe  that  religion 
is  all  a  lie,  is  a  kind  of  faith  which  one  should  suspect,  is  too 
hard  to  be  attained  by  a  human  mind  :  a  mystery,  I  had  just 
said,  beyond  any  thing  the  Bible  reveals.  No.  Unbelief  is 
the  proper  offspring  of  a  judgment  unnaturally  overpowered  and 
prostituted  by  sense. 

Say  not  then  that  you  have  reason  on  your  side  :  no  one  sober 
dictate  of  it  can  support  you  in  your  infidelity.  While,  there- 
fore, you  treat  this  great  object  with  contempt  and  ridicule,  you 
betray  a  weakness  and  folly,  which  will  be  an  eternal  reproach 
to  your  understanding ;  and  a  bitterness  and  enmity  of  heart, 
which  will  one  day  bring  upon  you  inexpressible  misery.  What 
if  all  you  have  heard  should  happen  to  prove  true  ?  how  great 


THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION.  41 

w  ill  be  your  confusion  in  the  hour  of  death  !  and  how  great 
your  surprise  the  instant  you  lauiicli  into  eternity  !  How 
will  you  lift  up  your  eyes  before  the  tribunal  of  that  God,  Vvhose 
revealed  will  you  have  trampled  under  foot,  and  whose  reason- 
ings by  the  voice  of  conscience  itself  you  have  rejected  and  de- 
spised !  O  consider  these  things,  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  he 
tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver  a.    But  to  iKisten, 

2.  If  the  condemnation  of  the  infidel  will  be  dreadful,  how 
much  rdore  that  of  the  hypocrite  ! — the  man  who,  in  order  to 
answer  some  secular  purposes  to  himself,  puts  on  the  form  of 
godliness,  while  he  inwardly  denies  the  power  of  it,  and  laughs 
at  the  whole  as  a  cheat.  A  more  unnatural,  base,  and  detest- 
able character  than  this  cannot  be  imagined.  It  exposes  a  per- 
son to  the  resentments  both  of  the  good  and  the  bad,  and  be- 
trays a  meanness  which  renders  him  absolutely  unworthy  of  so- 
ciety. Whether  religion  be  or  be  not  true,  such  a  man  must  in 
the  end  be  a  loser.  If  it  be  not  true,  though  he  escapes  future 
misery,  yet  it  is  a  thousand  to  one,  but  his  hypocrisy  is  sus- 
pected, and  of  consequence  his  schemes  defeated  ;  however,  it 
is  certain  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  must  sink  into  contempt  in 
the  opinion  of  all  around  him. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  religion  should  prove  true,  what 
tenfold  vengeance  will  fall  on  the  guilty  head  of  this  wretched 
man,  in  the  great  day  of  accoxint ! — that  day  when  the  secrets 
of  all  hearts  shall  be  laid  open,  and  the  God  of  truth  shall,  with 
the  loud  applause  of  angels  and  men,  and  indeed  the  full  ap- 
probation of  the  condemned  himself,  frown  him  from  his  pre- 
sence into  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  which  burnetii  for  ever- 
more. No  excuse  can  be  offered  for  him,  and  every  circumstance 
which  can  be  imagined  will  crowd  upon  him  to  aggravate  his 
guilt  and  heighten  his  misery.  Bethink  yourself,  O  man,  in 
time.  Religion  is  true.  Ask  your  conscience,  and  it  will  tell 
you  so.  Increase  not  then  your  guilt  by  your  hypocrisy.  Nei- 
ther in  this  way  bring  the  blood  of  any  oth.ers  around  you  on 
your  own  head.  But  throw  the  mask  aside.  Acknowledge 
your  sin,  and  pray  God,  if  perhaps  the  thought  of  your  heart 
may  be  forgiven  you  b.     To  close  the  whole, 

a  Psal.  L  22.  Acts  viii.  22. 


42  THE  REALITY  OF  RELIGION. 

3.  And  lastly,  How  great,  Christian,  is  your  felicity  !  You 
have  believed  religion  to  be  a  reality,  and  have  found  it  to  be  so 
in  your  own  experience.  You  have  the  witness  in  yourself^  and 
you  have  the  pleasure  to  see  every  other  kind  of  testimony  con- 
curring with  this  of  your  own  mind  and  conscience.  Few,  in- 
deed, around  you  are  duly  affected  with  this  great  concern ;  yet 
few  dare  look  you  in  the  face  and  say  it  is  all  a  deception.  But 
though  the  whole  world  did  think  differently  from  you,  if,  never- 
theless, you  have  the  Bible,  and  the  feelings  of  your  own  heart, 
on  your  side,  what  will  it  signify?  And  though  in  the  end  you 
should  be  mistaken,  yet  you  will  have  no  cause  to  repent  that 
you  have  given  firm  credit  to  such  matters  as  have  tended  to 
make  you  a  happier  and  better  man,  and  a  more  cheerful  and 
useful  member  of  society.  But  the  truth  is  great,  and  it  will 
prevail.  Religion  is  a  reality,  and  built  on  such  principles  as 
cannot  deceive.  Rejoice  then,  O  believer,  amidst  all  the  con- 
tempt that  is  cast  upon  you  by  a  profane  and  wicked  world. 
Rejoice  in  the  truth.  Place  a  firm  confidence  in  Christ  as  your 
Saviour,  and  '  give  all  diligence  to  make  your  calling  and  elec- 
tion sure.'  Be  confirmed  in  the  grounds  of  your  faith,  and  pray 
to  God  that  the  fruits  of  it  may  so  appear  in  your  heart  and  life, 
as  to  put  the  truth  of  religion  itself,  and  your  own  interest  in  it, 
beyond  all  dispute.  And  look  forward  with  pleasure  and  triumph 
to  that  day,  when  all  doubt  and  scepticism  shall  be  for  ever  ab- 
sorbed and  lost,  in  the  brightness  and  certainty  of  the  heavenly 
world. 


DISCOURSE  III. 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

1  Cor.  xii.  13. — And  have  been  all  made  to  drink  into  one 

spirit. 

XT  is  a  reflection  highly  pleasing  to  a  serious  mind,  that  reli- 
gion, the  nature  and  reality  of  which  we  have  explained  and 


THE  SAMENESS  Ot  RELIGION.  43 

proved,  is  one  and  the  same  thing  in  every  good  man.  Nor  is 
there  in  this  argument  entertainment  only,  but  the  most  impor- 
tant use;  for,  on  the  one  hand,  it  tends  to  obviate  a  very  plau- 
sible objection,  which  hath  often  been  urged  against  thd  truth 
of  religion,  as  if  it  were  not  of  divine  original,  because  it  hath, 
and  doth  assume  such  various  external  appearances;  and,  on 
the  other,  it  happily  tends  to  promote  a  firm  union  and  a  cordial 
affection  among  all  those  who  are  interested  in  this  heavenly 
blessing.  Nor  could  fitter  language  be  used  to  convey  this 
cheerful  and  improving  idea  of  real  godliness,  than  that  in  our 
text ;  whether  we  be  Jews  or  Gentiles,  bond  or  free,  if  we  truly 
fear  God,  we  have  been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit. 

The  apostle  had  been  discoursing  at  large  concerning  spiritual 
gifts,  of  which  he  tells  the  Corinthians,  there  was  a  very  great 
diversity  in  the  church  of  God.  But  reflecting  how  mucii  they 
were  disposed  to  animosities  and  divisions,  which  was  indeed 
the  principal  occasion  of  his  writing  this  epistle,  he  reminds 
them,  that  whatever  variety  of  gifts  there  might  be  among  them, 
there  was  but  one  Spirit  whence  they  all  proceeded ;  and  that 
the  great  end  for  which  they  were  given  was  likewise  but  one, 
even  the  general  edification  of  the  whole.  This  leads  him  into 
a  very  apt  and  familiar  comparison  of  the  church  with  the  na- 
tural body.  As  the  body^  says  he  in  the  preceding  verse,  is  one, 
and  hath  many  members,  and  all  the  members  of  that  one  body, 
being  many,  are  one  body :  so  also  is  Christ.  "  As  the  natural 
body,  though  composed  of  many  members,  whose  situation, 
strength,  use,  and  beauty  are  various,  is  but  one  body;  so  the 
church  of  Christ,  though  it  consists  of  many  individuals,  whose 
stations,  abilities,  and  usefulness,  may  be  various,  is  likewise 
but  one  body,  of  which  Jesus  Christ  is  the  head."  Fo?',  adds 
he,  by  one  spirit  we  are  all  baptized  into  one  body,  whether  we 
he  Jews  or  Gentiles,  whether  we  be  bond  or  free  •  and  have 
been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit.  A  manifest  allusion 
there  is  here  to  the  two  institutions,  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's 
supper.  By  the  former,  which  is  an  emblem  of  regeneration, 
we  are  initiated  into  the  church,  incorporated  and  joined  toge- 
ther, declared  to  be  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  and  so  to  make  one 
body.  And  by  the  latter,  which  exhibits  a  lively  representation 
of  the  doctrine  and  grace  of  Christ,  we  profess  to  drink  into  one 


44  THK  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

spirit^  to  have  the  same  divine  temper  diffused  through  all  our 
hearts,  and  to  be  knit  together  in  affection  and  love.  To  much 
the  same  purpose  he  expresses  himself  in  another  place,  where 
he  is  professedly  speaking  of  this  sacred  rite,  *  We  being  many 
are  one  bread  a.' 

Now  by  this  figurative  mode  of  speech  in  the  text,  the  apostle 
would  further  instruct  us,  not  only  that  the  many  members 
which  compose  the  church  of  Christ,  do  in  fact  make  one  body  ; 
but  likewise  that  there  is  a  sameness  in  the  religion  itself,  as  it 
hath  been  already  explained,  which  thus  unites  them  to  one  an- 
other. This  is  admirably  illustrated  by  the  distinction  he  ob- 
serves between  the  soul  and  body,  and  their  union  in  one  per- 
son. The  body  and  soul  are  the  two  parts  which  constitute  a 
man.  As  the  body,  with  all  its  members,  is  but  one ;  so  the 
soul,  with  all  its  various  powers  and  affections,  is  but  one  like- 
wise :  and  these  two  united  make  but  one  man.  In  like  man- 
ner, as  the  several  individuals  which  compose  the  church  of 
God,  however  scattered  through  the  world,  and  however  diffe- 
rent in  their  external  aspect  and  appearance,  make  but  one 
body ;  so  this  body  is  inhabited  and  quickened  by  one  spirit. 
It  is  in  a  sense  one  soul,  one  mind,  one  temper,  which  possesses 
all  good  men.  At  the  table  of  our  Lord  we  all  drink  of  one 
cup ;  and  thus  in  the  great  business  of  religion  we  all  drink  into 
otie  spirit :  we  are  of  the  same  nature,  and  make  as  it  were  one 
person. 

But  if  we  consider  the  words  detached  from  either  of  these 
allusions,  the  sense  will  very  well  agree  with  other  metaphorical 
descriptions  of  religion  in  the  book  of  God,  and  upon  the  whole 
amount  to  the  same  thing.  We  often  read  of  water,  of  living 
tvatcr,  of  drawing  ivater  out  of  the  wells  of  salvation,  and  of 
thirsting  and  drinking  b.  By  %vhich  expressions  are  undoubtedly 
meant  the  inward  spirit  and  experience  of  religion,  with  the 
many  comforts  and  blessings  of  it.  Now,  says  the  apostle, 
whatever  be  our  character  or  circumstances  in  other  respects, 
yet  having  felt  the  renewing  influence  of  the  grace  of  God,  we 
have  been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit.  We  have  all  hun- 
gered and  thirsted  after  righteousness,  have  all  been  led  to  the 
same  fountain-head,  and  have  all,  in  our  different  proportion, 
a  1  Cor.  X.  17.  b  John  iv.  14<.  vU.  38.- — Isa.  xii.  3. 


TtfE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGIOI?.  45 

drank  of  the  same  divine  blessings  which  freely  and  largely 
flow  thence.  So  he  expresses  himself,  speaking  of  the  fathers 
of  the  Old  Testament  church,  They  did  all  eat  the  same  spi- 
ritual meat,  and  did  all  drink  the  same  spiritual  drink  :  /or 
they  drank  of  that  spiritual  rock  which  followed  them ;  and 
that  rock  was  Christ  a. 

Upon  the  whole  then,  the  sense  of  the  words  is  manifestly 
this,  that  religion,  in  regard  of  the  internal,  spiritual  and  prac- 
tical part  of  it,  is  uniformly  the  same  in  every  good  man.  Now, 
in  order  to  the  right  improvement  of  this  proposition,  we  will, 

I.  Briefly  descant  on  that  diversity  of  natural  and  external 
circumstances,  which  often  attends  the  experience  and  practice 
of  religion. 

II.  Inquire  wherein  consists  that  uniformity,  which  the 
text  assures  us  there  is  in  religion  itself.     And  then, 

III.  Point  out  the  grounds  and  reasons  of  this,  which  will 
serve  to  prove  the  truth  of  the  observation,  and  still  farther  to 
explain  and  illustrate  it. 

I.  As  to  that  diversity  of  natural  and  external  circumstances 
which  attends  the  profession  of  religion ;  it  will  be  necessary  to 
take  a  general  view  of  it,  in  order  to  set  the  contrast  in  the 
stronger  light,  and  especially  as  the  apostle  himself  directs  us 
to  it  in  the  very  text.     And, 

1.  It  is  obvious  to  every  one,  that  there  is  a  wide  difference 
among  those  who  fear  God,  in  respect  of  their  outward  and 
worldly  circumstances.  Religion  is  not  conflned  to  any  particu- 
lar nation  or  age  of  the  world,  nor  to  any  particular  rank  or 
condition  of  men.  It  is  not  a  blessing  peculiar  to  the  Christian 
sera,  to  this  country,  or  to  the  poor  only.  One  may  be  a  Greek, 
and  another  a  Jew  ;  one  a  Barbarian,  and  another  a  Scythian; 
one  bond,  and  another  free.  The  water  of  life,  like  the  river 
of  paradise,  spreads  itself  through  various  and  distinct  parts  of 
the  eartli ;  and  sometimes  springs  up  in  hearts  where  we  little 
expect  to  find  it,  and  without  any  external  or  visible  means  of 
communication.  The  young  and  the  old,  the  rich  and  the  poor, 
the  honourable  and  the  despised,  have  all  of  them,  that  is,  some 
of  each  condition,  drank  into  the  same  spirit.  Here  we  shall 
see  one  clothed  in  rags,  whose  inner  man  is  nevertliclcss  adorn- 
a  1  Cor.  X.  3,  4-. 


4.6  TPIE  SAJIENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

ed  with  that  apparel  which  is  incorruptible,  and  in  the  sight  of 
God  of  great  price.  And  there  again  another  in  affluent  cir- 
cumstances, and  in  an  exalted  station  of  life,  who  is  neverthe- 
less poor  in  spirit,  and  judges  it  his  chief  honour  that  he  ranks 
among  the  humble  disciples  of  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  :  a 
prince  on  a  throne,  and  a  peasant  in  a  cottage ;  a  Job  and  a 
Solomon,  a  Lazarus  and  a  Daniel.  No  uniformity  is  necessary 
in  regard  of  these  things.     In  like  manner, 

2.  There  is  a  remarkable  difference  among  good  men  as  to  their 
intellectual  capacities,  and  their  natural  tempers.  These,  be 
they  what  they  may,  are  not  the  tests  by  which  the  characters 
of  the  disciples  of  Jesus  are  to  be  decisively  determined.  That 
is  to  say,  the  man  who  in  respect  of  natural  endowments  is  a 
fool,  or  but  one  remove  from  that  denomination,  may  yet  be  en- 
riched with  divine  wisdom.  And  he  who  was  born  with  a  rug- 
gedness  of  disposition,  which  is  not  to  be  entirely  mastered  in 
the  present  life,  may  yet  have  his  heart  in  the  main  right  to- 
wards God.  And  so,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  very  per- 
verse to  suppose,  that  either  good  sense,  or  good  nature,  are 
any  real  obstructions  to  true  religion.  Fact  sufficiently  confirms 
the  justness  of  these  observations. 

Many  serious  Christians  we  perhaps  daily  converse  with,  who 
hardly  know  how  to  reason  upon  the  plainest  point ;  while  some 
here  and  there  are  possessed  of  powers  so  refined  and  exalted, 
as  to  render  them  capable  of  the  closest  thought,  and  of  the 
most  curious  and  abstruse  speculations.  And  so  as  to  natural 
temper ;  how  soft,  mild  and  gentle  is  the  disposition  of  some  ! 
and  how  sharp,  perverse  and  unyielding  that  of  others  !  The 
apostles  Peter  and  John  are  remarkable  instances  of  this  variety 
in  the  temperament,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  of  their  animal 
spirits.  The  one  is  hot,  bold  and  precipitate,  the  other  soft, 
tender  and  affectionate.  And  it  is,  I  imagine,  this  difference 
of  natural  constitution,  which  gives  rise  to  those  various  appear- 
ances we  see  relimon  often  assume.  The  weakness  of  their  in- 
tellects  will  not  allow  some  Christians  to  discern,  with  that  clear- 
ness that  might  be  wished,  the  consistency  of  divine  truths,  and 
their  mutual  dependence  on  each  other.  And  the  sharpness 
of"  their  vvits  is  mighty  apt  to  tempt  others  into  refinements, 
which  are  of  a  very  trifling  nature,  if  not  of  a  hurtful  tendency. 


THE  SAMENESS  OP  RELIGION.  4^ 

Hence  that  variety  of  sentiment  among  even  good  men  them- 
selves, about  those  matters  which  affect  not  the  vitals  of  religion. 
But  most  of  the  dissensions  which  prevail  in  the  Christian 
church,  are  rather  owing  to  some  unhappy  defect  in  men's  tem- 
pers than  in  their  judgments.  It  is  not  their  religion  which 
makes  them  at  all  unkind  and  severe,  and  so  alienates  and  di- 
vides them.  Religion  does,  in  a  good  degree,  cure  these  dis- 
orders of  the  mind,  and  prevent  the  ill  effects  of  them.  Allow- 
ance is  however  to  be  made  for  the  consideration,  that  nature 
hath  not  cast  them  all  in  the  same  mould;  while  at  the  same 
time  we  admit  that  the  grace  of  God  '  hath  made  them  all 
drink  into  the  same  spirit.'     Again, 

3.  The  difference  may  be  considerable  in  respect  of  the  par- 
ticular dispensations,  Jbrfiis  and  means  of  religion  they  may  be 
under.  The  same  degree  of  light  hath  not  been  enjoyed,  nor 
hath  the  same  mode  of  worship  obtained  from  the  beginning. 
The  knowledge  of  the  Messiah  was  gradually  increasing  through 
the  Antediluvian,  the  Patriarchal  and  the  Mosaic,  to  the  Chris- 
tian age.  And  as  one  dispensation  by  divine  appointment  suc- 
ceeded another,  so  each  produced  a  change  in  the  means  of 
religion,  which  grew  more  and  more  instructive  and  animating, 
the  nearer  they  advanced  to  the  simplicity  and  spirituality  of 
the  gospel  state.  But  this  produced  no  alteration  in  religion 
itself:  that  remained  immutably  the  same.  The  men  of  God 
before  the  flood,  drank  into  the  same  spirit  with  those  who 
flourished  in  the  time  of  the  prophets:  and  these  again  were 
saved  in  the  very  same  way,  and  shared  in  the  same  divine  tem- 
per, with  those  whose  happy  lot  hath  fallen  under  the  clear  light 
of  the  Christian  dispensation.  '  The  gospel  was  preached  unto 
the  fathers  as  well  as  unto  us :  and  they  all  did  eat  of  the  same 
spiritual  meat,  and  did  all  drink  of  the  same  spiritual  drink,  even 
of  the  rock  that  followed  them,  which  rock  was  Christ  a.* 
The  immediate  disciples  of  Jesus  were  men  of  true  religion, 
as  well  amidst  the  darkness  which  veiled  their  apprehensions 
during  his  ministry  on  earth,  as  amidst  that  divine  light,  which 
shone  around  them  on  the  day  of  Pentecost.  The  .Tews  wor- 
shipped God  in  a  manner  verv  different  fi-fem  us;  but  their  forms, 
I  mean  as  used  by  good  men,  were  animated  with  the  same 
a  Heb.  iv.  2. — 1  Cor.  x.  3,  k 


48  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

spirit,  which  is  the  life  and  glory  of  those  fewer  and  plainer  in- 
stitutions in  use  among  us.  And  though  some  of  the  wisest  and 
best  men  of  this  and  the  preceding  ages,  have  differed  in  their 
opinions  concerning  the  circumstantials  both  of  the  doctrine  and 
discipline  of  the  Christian  church ;  yet  it  would  be  the  height 
of  madness,  and  I  will  add  impiety  too,  to  question  their  uni- 
formity in  the  great  business  of  religion  itself.  And  however 
some  Christians  stand  distinguished  from  others  in  regard  of 
the  excellency,  purity  and  spirituality  of  those  means  they  en- 
joy; yet  their  experiences  of  divine  things  most  certainly  are, 
and  indeed  necessarily  must  be,  similar.     So  again, 

4.  The  diversity  there  is  of  spiritual  gifts  infers  no  real  diver- 
sity as  to  religion  itself.  A  circumstance  I  the  rather  mention, 
as  the  apostle  so  largely  insists  on  it  in  this  context.  *  There 
are  differences,'  says  he,  '  of  administrations,  but  the  same 
Lord.  And  there  are  diversities  of  operations,  but  it  is  the 
same  God  which  worketh  all  in  all.  To  one  is  given  the  word 
of  wisdom;  to  another  the  word  of  knowledge;  to  another 
faith ;  to  another  the  gifts  of  healing  ;  to  another  the  working 
of  miracles;  to  another  propliecy;  to  another  discerning  of 
srjirits ;  to  another  divers  kinds  of  tongues  ;  to  another  the  in- 
terpretation of  tongues;  but  all  is  of  one  God,  who  dividcth 
to  every  man,  severally  as  he  will  a  ,•'  and  every  man,  however 
characterized  or  distinguished  by  these  gifts,  if  he  be  a  Chris- 
tian indeed,  '  hath  been  made  to  drink  into  the  same  spirit.' 
Miracles,  it  is  true,  are  now  ceased;  yet  the  observation,  so  far 
as  it  respects  that  variety  of  talents  for  usefulness  with  which 
one  Christian  is  distinguished  from  another,  is  equally  applica- 
ble to  the  present  times.  Whatever  these  may  be,  whether 
for  public  rule  and  instruction  in  the  church  of  God,  or  for  pri- 
vate counsel  and  edification,  they  very  well  consist,  and  indeed 
are  only  truly  amiable,  v.hen  connected  with  that  charity,  divine 
love,  or  spiritual  religion,  without  which  the  apostle  assures  us 
in  the  very  ncx'^  chapter  after  the  text,  they  are  all  nothing. 
To  which  it  is  to  be  added  once  more, 

5.  That  there  may  be,  and  often  is  a  difference  as  to  the 
degree  of  religion,  though  it  retains  the  same  nature.  An  ob- 
servation this  so  common,   that  it  needs  little  or  no  illustration. 

«  1  Cor.  xii.  o,  f),  8,  9,  10. 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION.  49 

There  are,  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  babes,  young  men,  and 
fathers  in  Christ;  some  weak,  and  others  strong  in  faith;  some 
eminent  for  the  purity  of  their  devotion,  the  warmth  of  their 
love,  and  the  cheerfuhiess  of  their  obedience  ;  and  others  in 
whose  hearts  are  to  be  seen  the  sparks  only  of  this  divine  fire. 
And  yet  Christians  are  all  children  of  the  same  Father,  par- 
takers of  the  same  nature,  and  initiated  into  the  same  religion. 
Such  then  is  the  diversity  of  natural  and  external  circum- 
stances, which  often  attend  the  experience  and  profession  of 
relimon. 

PART  II. 

Let  us  now  then  turn  our  eyes  from  these  circumstances  to 
the  thing  itself,  and  enquire, 

II.  Wherein  consists  that  uniformity  in  religion,  which  our 
text  mentions  as  a  peculiar  commendation  of  its  real  and  intrin- 
sic excellency. 

By  the  sameness  of  religion  is  here  meant,  the  exact  simila- 
rity there  is  in  the  spirit  and  temper  of  all  good  men.  As  the 
several  individuals  of  mankind  are  all  made  of  one  blood,  and  as 
the  same  faculty  of  reason,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  is  com- 
mon to  each  of  the  human  species;  so  what  the  Scripture 
calls  '  a  new  creature  a,'  is  one  divine  or  spiritual  nature  com- 
mon to  all  the  people  of  God.  And  this  is  precisely  the  same 
now  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  and  will  indeed  ever  continue 
immutably  the  same  in  every  age,  in  every  part  of  the  world, 
and  in  every  heart  which  is  renewed  by  the  grace  of  God.  It 
is  what  our  Saviour  calls  the  one  thing  needful  b.  Here  then 
our  business  is  not  immediately  with  the  doctrines  of  religion, 
these  being  rather  the  objects  of  it,  than  the  thing  itself.  Though 
it  is  most  certain,  that  as  truth  can  be  but  one,  so  the  apprehen- 
sions of  all  good  men  concerning  it,  must  exactly  correspond  in 
regard  of  those  particulars  of  it,  which  do  immediately  affect  the 
existence  of  the  new  nature  in  the  heart.  Nor  can  we  speak  of 
inward  piety,  without  keeping  in  view  the  grand  objects  of  it, 
which  have  been  more  or  less  clearly  revealed  to  the  minds  of 
men,  according  as  the  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God 
have  judged  most  fit  and  necessary. 

a  2  Cor.  v.  17.  h  Luke  x.  42. 

VOL.  I.  D 


50  THE  SAMEXESS  OF  RELIGION. 

Now  tlie  main  expressions  of  inward  religion  may  be  com- 
prised in  this  short  account  of  it.  It  first  humbles  the  heart  of 
man — then  inspires  it  with  divine  hopes  and  Joys — by  this  means 
refines  and  sanctijies  it — and  so  makes  it  capable  of  pure  love  and 
exalted  friendship.  And  in  respect  of  each  of  these  particulars 
there  is  an  exact  nniformitt/,  at  least  in  a  degree,  among  all  the 
people  of  God.  They  have  all  been  made  to  drink  into  the  same 
spirit. 

1.  Religion  humbles  and  abases  the  heart  before  God. 
Where  is  the  good  man  to  be  found,  who  hath  not  been  struck 
with  an  awful  apprehension  of  the  truth  and  dignity  of  the  di- 
vine perfections,  and  with  a  deep  sense  of  his  own  vileness  and 
unworthiness  ?  While  faith  presents  the  blessed  God  to  our 
view  in  his  infinite  omniscience,  his  spotless  purity,  his  almighty 
power,  and  his  transcendent  glory,  we  vanish  into  nothing  be- 
fore him.  The  lively  display  of  these  his  attributes  in  the  works 
of  nature  and  providence,  in  the  righteous  dictates  of  his  holy 
law,  and  the  propitiatory  sufferings  of  his  own  Son,  commands 
our  homage  and  dread.  We  admire  and  wonder,  adore  and 
tremble.  And  so  turning  our  eyes  inward  on  ourselves,  travers- 
ino-  our  hearts  through  the  various  and  secret  mazes  of  vanity 
and  sin,  observing  how  unlike  we  are  to  the  pure  and  perfect 
God,  and  how  sbort  we  come  of  our  obligations  to  his  holy  law, 
reflecting  on  the  pollution  of  our  natures,  and  the  aggravated 
guilt  of  our  lives ;  we  are  covered  with  shame  at  this  sad  scene, 
and  readily  acknowledge  ourselves  the  chief  of  sinners.  And 
then,  conceiving  some  hope  of  the  mercy  of  God,  through  the 
great  atonement  he  hath  appointed,  we  feel  the  relentings  of  a 
broken  heart  for  all  our  ingratitude,  and  the  sensations  of  real 
orief  for  all  our  folly  and  sin. 

Now  these  experiences,  which  are  the  beginning  of  religion, 
and  which  accompany  the  Christian  all  his  way  through  life, 
are  the  feelings  of  every  good  man.  There  is  an  entire  simila- 
rity here.  The  myriads  of  sinners  who  have  been  saved,  from 
the  beginning  of  time  to  the  present  moment,  of  whatever  na- 
tion, kindred  or  tongue,  have  all  been  inspired  with  these  sen- 
timents, and  all  been  affected  with  these  sensations.  If  we  go 
back  to  Patriarchal  times,  and  ask  the  faithfvd  in  those  days, 
what  they  thought  of  God  and  themselves ;  their  auswet  will 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION.  51 

Correspond  exactly  with  the  account  we  have  just  given.  Good 
old  Jacob  will  tell  us,  that  when  the  Lord  appeared  to  him, 
such  an  awful  reverence  of  the  great  God  was  impressed  upon 
his  spirits,  as  obliged  him  to  cry  out,  How  dreadful  is  this 
place  a  !  And  will  add,  that  when  he  contemplated  his  own  na- 
ture, with  the  frailty  and  guilt  that  attended  it,  he  judged 
himself  unworthy  of  the  least  of  God's  mercies  b.  With  him 
Job,  that  upright  and  perfect  man,  will  agree,  assuring  us,  that 
having  not  only  heard  of  the  Lord  with  the  hearing  of  the  ear, 
but  with  the  eye  seen  him,  he  abhorred  himself  and  repented  in 
dust  and  ashes  c.  Isaiah,  in  after  times,  will  talk  the  same 
language :  Wo  is  me,  for  I  am  undone,  because  I  am  a  man  of 
unclean  lips  d.  Daniel  in  the  court  of  Belshazzar,  amidst  all 
the  honours  conferred  on  him,  will  tremble  before  the  great 
God,  and  acknowledge  that  to  him  belonged  shame  and  coi fu- 
sion of  face  e.  And  in  just  the  same  temper  shall  we  find  the 
apostles  and  disciples  of  Jesus :  Peter  crying  out  with  an  asto- 
nishment, the  genuine  fruit  of  his  humiliation  and  abasement  of 
heart,  Depart  from  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful  manf;  and 
the  great  apostle,  amidst  all  his  attainments,  both  natural  and 
spiritual,  confessing  himself  the  very  chief  of  sinners  g,  and 
freely  acknowledging.  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  ichat  I  am  h. 
In  short,  this  feature  I  have  been  describing,  is  strongly  ex- 
pressed in  every  religious  character  the  Scriptures  have  given 
us ;  and  fixes  an  exa,ct  resemblance  between  all  the  men  of  God, 
whose  histories  are  there  recorded.  Patriarchs,  prophets,  and 
apostles,  all  unite  in  loudly  adoring  the  grace  of  God,  and 
humbly  deploring  their  own  unworthiness;  in  freely  renouncing 
every  pretence  of  merit  on  their  part,  and  cheerfully  ascribing 
their  salvation  to  the  divine  m.ercy  alone. 

And  such  is  the  temper  of  good  men  of  every  country,  of 
every  age,  and  of  every  rank  and  condition.  Princes,  who  fear 
God,  we  shall  see  smiting  upon  their  breasts,  and  with  the 
same  lowliness  of  mind  as  the  meanest  publican,  crying  out, 
God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  i.  Neither  wit,  nor  learning, 
nor  honour,  nor  wealth,  nor  any  other  temporal  emolument, 

a  Gen.  xxviii.  17.  b  Gen.  xxxii.  10.  c  Job  xlii.  3,  6. 

d  Isa.  vi.  3.  e  Dan.  ix.  7.  /Luke  v.  8. 

g  1  Tim.  i.  15.  h  1  Cor.  xv.  10.  %  Luke  xviii.  13. 

jd2 


5^  '  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

should  they  fall  to  the  share  of  the  Christian,  will  hy  any 
means  excuse  him,  nor  does  he  wish  they  should,  from  these 
the  genuine  expressions  of  true  religion.  Such  an  exact  uni- 
formity is  there  in  that  divine  temper,  which  possesses  the  hearts 
of  all  the  people  of  God  !  Nay  of  their  very  afflictions  them- 
selves, I  mean  their  douhts  and  fears,  and  their  hours  of  me- 
lanciioly  and  desertion,  it  may  with  truth  be  affirmed,  that  as 
they  are  all  or  much  the  same  kind,  so  they  are  all  adapted 
to  this,  the  same  end,  to  humble  and  abase  their  hearts 
before  God,  and  to  promote  their  reverence  for  the  divine 
majesty  and  glory.  This  similarity  is  likewise  farther  remark- 
able, 

2.  In  regard  of  their  hopes  awAjoys ;  not  indeed  as  to  the  de- 
gree of  them,  but  their  nature  and  tendency.  The  grand  ob- 
jects of  them  are  the  same,  such  as  the  pardon  of  sin,  the  fa- 
vour of  God,  the  presence  and  blessing  of  his  Spirit,  the  gui- 
dance and  protection  of  his  providence,  deliverance  from  sin 
with  all  its  wretched  consequences,  and  the  perfect  fruition  of 
endless  happiness  in  the  world  above.  The  source  whence 
they  are  derived  is  the  same,  even  the  mercy  and  grace  of  God 
through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  means  by  which  they 
are  communicated  are  also  the  same,  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
other  appointments  of  religion,  such  as  r/.editation,  prayer  and 
an  attendance  on  public  worship.  So  likewise  the  influence 
by  which  they  are  excited  is  the  same,  the  seasonable  and  gra- 
cious operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  And  after  much  the  same 
manner  do  they  take  their  rise  in  the  heart,  usually  following 
upon  a  deep  and  humbling  sense  of  their  ovvn  unworthiness, 
accompanied  perhaps  with  many  doubts  and  fears,  and  with 
many  debates  and  questionings  as  to  their  state  before  God. 
Tiuis  divine  wisdom  and  grace  pursues  the  same  measures 
with  them  all,  first  wounds  and  then  heals,  first  humbles 
and  then  exalts.  And  in  like  manner,  these  hopes  and  joys 
are  every  where  similar  in  their  nature  and  tendency.  They 
refresh  the  hearts,  and  strengthen  the  hands  of  all  who  enjoy 
them. 

Now,  whoever  these  happy  persons  are,  whether  distinguished 
by  the  honours  and  pleasures,  or  by  the  disappointments  and 
sorrows  of  the  present  life,  it  is  equally  true  of  them  all,  that 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION".  SS 

they  place  a  higher  value  on  these  divine  and  heavenly  blessings 
than  any  other.  The  good  man  who  is  elevated  to  the  very 
pinnacle  of  worldly  grandeur,  if  such  an  one  there  be,  considers 
the  favour  of  his  God  as  an  acquisition  infinitely  more  resplen- 
dent and  dignifying  than  all  the  envied  pomp  he  possesses. 
And  the  good  man,  on  the  other  hand,  who  is  reduced  to  out- 
ward circumstances  the  most  abject  and  distresshig,  covets 
these  emoluments  of  a  spiritual  kind,  far  beyond  all  the  ease 
and  affluence  of  a  temporal  nature,  which  Providence  hath 
tliought  fit  to  deny  him.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ? 
and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  thee  «,  was 
the  language  of  a  prophet  who  held  no  inconsiderable  rank  in 
the  church  of  God,  when  its  outward  condition  was  prosperous 
and  flourishing.  And  it  was  the  prayer  of  a  great  and  mighty 
prince,  who  had  shared  largely  of  the  honours  of  victory,  and 
the  gratifications  of  popular  applause.  Lord,  lift  thou  up  tJie 
light  of  thy  countenance  upon  me  b.  Nay,  in  latter  times,  an 
apostle  who  had  been  bred  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  and  could 
boast  perhaps  of  superior  advantages  of  genius,  learning  and 
reputation,  to  most  others,  solemnly  declares,  that  he  counted 
all  these  things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ  his  Lord,  and  as  no  better  than  dwig,  when  com- 
pared with  the  exalted  honour  and  privilege  of  an  interest  in  his 
favour  and  love  c. 

Thus  uniformly  do  all  good  men  agree  in  their  judgment,  as 
to  the  refined  and  satisfying  nature  of  religious  pleasures,  and 
thus  eagerly  do  they  all  thirst  after  the  enjoyment  of  them ; 
iever  cheerful  and  happy  whilst  they  are  in  the  possession  of 
them,  and  ever  gloomy  and  disconsolate  whilst  they  are  inter- 
dicted or  withheld.  Thus  have  they  all  the  same  refined  and 
exalted  taste,  and  thus  are  they  all,  in  their  measure,  alike  be- 
nefited by  the  gratifications  of  it ;  it  being  the  universal  and  ge- 
nuine effect  of  these  joys  to  moderate  the  affections  to  the 
world,  to  elevate  the  mind  to  God,  to  make  the  heart  courageous 
in  its  opposition  to  sin,  and  to  inspire  the  whole  soul  with  gra- 
titude and  praise.  Surely  then,  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  they 
have  all  drank  into  the  same  spirit. 

And  were  I  here  to  recite  at  large  the  experiences  of  all  the 
a  Psal.  Ixxiii.  25.  b  TsaK  iv.  6.  c  Phil.  iii.  8. 


54  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

people  of  God  recorded  in  the  Bible,  those  of  ancient  and  of 
later  times,  those  of  distinguished  and  of  inferior  abilities,  those 
who  enjoyed  the  honours  and  emoluments  of  the  Jewish  dis- 
pensation, and  those  who  endured  the  disgrace  and  persecution 
that  attended  the  introduction  of  the  Christian ;  were  I  to  pre- 
sent to  your  view,  an  Abraham,  a  Moses  and  a  David,  amidst 
their  wealth,  power  and  wisdom,  and  a  Peter,  James  and  John, 
amidst  their  poverty,  weakness  and  simplicity ;  you  would  find 
them  all  giving  the  same  account  of  the  hopes  and  joys  of  re- 
ligion, and  all  joining  issue  in  this  testimony  concerning  them, 
that  the  ways  of  Wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all 
her  paths  peace  a.  And  from  hence  it  is  natural  farther  to  ob- 
serve, 

3.  That  there  must  be  the  like  uniformity,  in  respect  o^  the 
pure  and  spiritual  tendency  it  gives  to  the  desires  and  affections. 
If  there  be  such  a  thing  as  religion,  it  is  evident  to  a  demonstra- 
tion, that  it  can  have  nothing  short  of  our  restoration  to  the 
divine  likeness  for  its  main  object.  Since  then  it  is  sin  which 
alienates  us  from  God,  destroys  our  peace,  lays  waste  our  joys, 
disgraces  our  natures,  and  brings  rwin  on  our  souls  ;  this  anti- 
dote which  divine  grace  hath  provided  against  it,  must  take 
effect  by  gradually  expelling  the  deadly  poison  from  the  heart, 
and  so  restoring  the  immortal  spirit  to  a  vigorous  and  healthful 
state.  Nor  yet  is  this  malignant  disease  at  once  cured  :  the  pro- 
cess is  gradual,  and  it  may  be  painful ;  but  there  can  be  no  rea- 
sonable doubt  that  in  the  issue  it  will  be  effectual.  In  the  mean 
while,  however,  it  is  natural  to  expect,  not  only  the  most  perfect 
simplicity  in  the  remedy  itself,  but  likewise  an  exact  similarity 
in  the  manner  of  its  operation  on  every  heart,  to  which  by  the 
grace  of  God  it  is  communicated.  Nor  is  it  to  be  questioned, 
could  we  have  access  to  the  minds  of  good  men,  so  as  to  know 
distinctly  what  passes  there,  but  we  should  find  this  to  be  the 
case. 

Large  hath  been  the  number  of  truly  pious  men  who  have 
existed  on  this  earth,  though  small  in  comparison  with  those 
of  the  contrary  character.  But  their  experiences  being  laid 
open  to  our  view,  we  should  at  once  discern  an  exact  correspon- 
dence in  the  principal  characters  and  leading  expressions  of 
a  Prov.  iii,  17. 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION.  55 

them  all ;  in  the  fears,  complaints  and  conflicts  of  their  breasts, 
and  in  the  tendencies,  desires  and  resolutions  of  their  hearts. 
How  should  we  find  them  all,  as  one  man,  struggling  for  the 
mastery  over  this  and  the  other  corruption,  such  as  pride,  envy, 
passion,  impatience,  sensuality,  love  of  the  world,  and  the  like  ! 
How  should  we  see  them  all  in  the  bitterness  of  their  spirits 
bewailing  the  frowardness  of  their  foolish  hearts,  and  with  deep 
contrition  lamenting  every  little  advantage,  which  sin  may  at 
any  time  have  gained  against  them  !  And  how  should  we  hear 
them  all,  as  with  one  voice,  though  perhaps  interrupted  with 
many  broken  sighs,  pouring  out  their  fervent  prayers  at  the  feet 
of  Divuie  mercy,  to  be  delivered  from  the  dominion  of  their 
lusts,  and  to  be  formed  for  the  refined  and  spiritual  exercises  of 
the  heavenly  world  ! 

It  hath  often  with  great  truth  been  observed,  that  real  Chris- 
tians do  in  nothing  so  exactly  agree  as  in  their  prayers;  I  mean 
not  in  the  fervency  only,  but  in  the  general  drift  and  tenor  of 
them.  Though  they  may  differ  in  their  apprehensions  about 
some  lesser  matters,  or  may  through  various  causes  misunder- 
stand each  other's  explanation  of  them  ;  yet,  when  they  present 
their  addresses  to  God  their  common  Father,  they  all  talk  one 
plain,  simple  and  intelligible  language.  And  the  reason  may 
be  very  readily  assigned.  Prayer  is  no  other  than  the  offering 
our  desires  to  God  :  it  being  then  the  grand  object  of  every 
good  man's  desire  to  resemble  God,  a  wish  which  includes  in  it 
every  spiritual  and  heavenly  blessing,  it  follows  of  consequence 
that  there  must  be  an  uvifonnity  in  their  prayers.  This  clearly 
shews  therefore  the  perfect  agreement  there  is  among  them  all, 
in  that  great  and  essential  branch  of  true  religion,  which  we 
are  treating  of  under  this  particular. 

And  were  it  necessary,  we  .might  here,  as  well  as  in  the 
former  instances,  cite  the  numerous  testimonies  of  sacred  writ 
in  confirmation  of  this  pleasing  truth  :  for  the  examples  of  the 
Bible,  in  all  the  artless  and  undisguised  forms  in  which  they 
are  drawn  out  to  our  view,  do  no  less  recommend  purity  of  heart 
and  life,  than  do  its  doctrines  and  precepts.  But  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  appeal  to  the  sensations  of  every  serious  Christian, 
and  to  the  acknowledgments  of  even  those,  who  pretend  not 
themselves  to  that  sacred  character.     Let  all  then  who  arc  iH 


56  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

earnest  about  religion  say,  whether  on  the  one  hand  remains  of 
indwelling  sin,  that  is,  in  other  words,  the  irregular  tendencies 
of  the  heart,  are  not  the  principal  burden  they  groan  under ; 
and  whether  on  the  other  hand,  the  prospect  of  being  wholly 
freed  from  these  sad  complaints,  and  so  being  assimilated  into 
the  spiritual  likeness  of  God,  is  not  the  most  pleasant  cordial 
which  can  be  administered  unto  their  spirits?  To  this  question 
they  will  instantly  reply  in  the  affirmative ;  and  I  may  add,  will 
express  themselves  with  a  vehemence  and  cheerfulness  on  this 
point,  which  will  shew  them  all  to  be  as  it  were  one  soul.  And 
as  to  those  who  have  no  real  sense  of  religion  upon  their  hearts, 
we  shall  find  even  their  apprehensions  of  it,  however  confined 
and  mistaken  in  other  respects,  including  in  them  the  general 
ideas  of  holiness  and  goodness.  Such  they  take  to  be  the 
meaning  of  religion,  or  they  could  not  with  any  appearance  of 
reason  ridicule  those,  who,  while  they  pretend  to  it,  are  wholly 
destitute  of  either  of  these  qualities.  So  that  we  have  the 
consent  both  of  good  and  bad  men  upon  this  argument,  that  if 
there  be  such  a  thing  as  religion,  its  tendency  to  promote  holi- 
ness must  be  uniformly  the  same  in  all  who  profess  it.  And 
from  hence  the  transition  is  very  natural, 

4.  To  that  spirit  of  real  charity  and  friendship,  which  is  the 
genuine  fruit  of  evangelical  purity.  That  love  must  needs  enter 
deeply  into  the  very  principles  and  genius  of  religion,  is  me- 
thinks  sufficiently  evident  from  the  nature  of  God,  the  great  ob- 
ject of  it — God  is  love  a  ;  from  the  unparalleled  love  of  the 
blessed  Jesus,  the  grand  medium  of  it — it  passeth  knowledge  b  ; 
and  from  the  indispensable  importance  of  it  to  our  happiness  and 
usefulness — it  is  the  bond  of  perfection  c,  the  fulfilling  of  the 
law  d,  the  chief  attainment  of  the  divine  life,  and  that  which 
reflects  the  most  pleasing  lustre  on  all  the  other  graces  and  du- 
ties of  it.  Love  softens  the  heart,  meliorates  the  affections,  be- 
gets peace  and  union  in  the  mind,  and  diffuses  joy  and  pleasure 
through  it.  Love  is  the  main  spring  of  acceptable  obedience  : 
it  unites  us  to  God,  and  so  conciliates  our  will  to  his ;  it  unites 
us  to  one  another,  and  so  inclines  us  to  acts  of  generosity  and 
goodness.     It  uispires  us  with  benevolent  dispositions  towards 

a  1  John  iv.  16.         b  Eph.  iii.  19.  c  Col.  iii.  U.        d  Rom.  xiii.  10. 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGIOK.  5T 

mankind  in  general,  with  a  tender  sympathy  tow;  rds  the  dis- 
tressed, and  with  a  cordial  esteem  for  all  good  men. 

Now  this  being  the  case,  no  man  can  become  a  neic  creature 
without  partaking  of"  this  divine  temper.  It  is  interwoven  with 
his  very  nature,  and  is  a  feature  so  fully  expressed  in  the  coun- 
tenance of  every  branch  of  this  numerous  family,  that  we  are 
\\'arranted  to  put  the  trial  of  our  new  birth  on  this  issue. 
Where  is  the  man  of  religion  who  is  not  a  lover  of  God  ?  who 
does  not  admire  his  transcendent  excellencies,  as  displayed  in 
the  various  works  of  his  hands?  who  does  not  feel  a  grateful 
sense  of  the  rich  profusion  of  goodness  he  is  continually  pour- 
ing upon  him  ?  and  who  does  not  consider  him  as  his  chief  por- 
tion, and  the  only  source  of  his  most  substantial  felicity?  Where 
is  the  pious  soul  who  is  not  a  lover  of  the  adorable  Jesus  ?  who 
does  not  reverence  him,  as  the  most  amiable  of  all  objects,  while 
by  faith  he  contemplates  the  unspeakable  glories  of  his  divinity, 
shining  through  the  veil  of  his  humanity?  and  who  does  not 
feel  a  pure  flame  of  heavenly  affection  kindled  in  his  breast  to- 
wards him,  while  he  dwells  on  the  matchless  wonders  of  that 
grace  he  hath  displayed,  in  yielding  his  life  to  death  for  the 
most  unworthy  ?  And  where,  in  one  word,  is  the  good  man, 
who  is  not  a  lover  of  good  men,  whose  heart  is  not  susceptible 
of  lively  impressions,  from  a  contemplation  of  the  divine  image 
on  whatever  mind  he  sees  it  drawn ;  and  who  is  not,  by  this 
pleasing  band  of  friendship  and  love,  firmly  attached  to  his  Chris- 
tian brother,  however  despicable  he  may  be  in  other  respects? 

Love  then,  pure,  spiritual,  heavenly  love,  is  an  essential  pro- 
perty of  real  religion,  necessary  to  form  the  character  of  every 
good  man,  and  of  consequence  an  endowment  common  to  all  the 
children  of  God.  This  was  the  temper  of  the  antediluvian 
saints,  of  those  who  flourished  under  the  Jewish  dispensation, 
and  of  those  who  sprung  into  existence  amidst  the  more  bright 
discoveries  of  the  gospel ;  the  temper  of  Noah,  of  David,  and 
of  John.  It  was  love  that  tuned  the  harp  of  the  sweet  singer 
of  Israel,  and  love  that  guided  the  pen  of  the  beloved  disciple 
of  Christ.  How  does  this  divine  •  passion  towards  the  blessed 
God,  and  all  who  bear  his  image,  diffuse  itself  through  the  de- 
vout psalms  of  the  one,  and  the  affectionate  epistles  of  the  other  ! 
What  shall  I  say  ?  not  a  Christian  breathes,  whose  heart  is  un- 


58  THE  SAMENESS  OF  KELIGION. 

touched  with  this  hallowed  fire  which  comes  down  from  heaven. 
It  communicates  itself  to  every  living  temple,  which  tlie  divine 
Spirit  hath  consecrated  for  his  residence ;  and  though,  through 
various  causes,  the  warmth  and  ardour  of  it  may  sometimes 
abate,  it  shall  not,  it  cannot  be  totally  extinguished.  O  happy 
woHd,  where  it  shall  never  any  more  languish ;  but,  rising  into 
one  bright  and  pure  flame,  shall  shed  light  and  heat  far  and 
wide,  and  dissolve  every  heart  into  gratitude  and  praise  ! 

Thus  have  we  seen  what  are  the  principal  expressions  of  real 
relio-ion,  wherein  good  men,  however  they  may  be  circum- 
stanced in  other  respects,  are  universally  agreed.  They  have 
been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit.  The  grace  of  God  first 
humbles  and  abases  the  heart  of  man ;  then  possesses  it  of  di- 
vine hopes  and  joys  .-  hereby  new-models  and  refines  its  prevail- 
ing tendencies  and  desires ;  and  so  makes  it  capable  of  what  is 
the  perfection  of  religion,  even  pure  love  and  exalted  friendship. 

PART  III. 

Having  described  the  several  leading  expressions  of  religion, 
which  form  an  exact  similarity  in  the  characters  of  all  the  people 
of  God,  I  am  now, 

III.  In  a  few  words  to  point  out  the  gronnds  or  reasons  of 
this  uniformity,  which  will  serve  at  once  both  to  confirm  the 
observation  in  the  text,  and  still  further  to  elucidate  and  explain 
it.  And  here,  amidst  the  many  considerations  that  might  be 
offered,  we  shall  confine  ourselves  to  those  only  which  are  so 
plain  and  simple,  that  they  must  needs  be  obvious  at  first  view 
to  every  truly  serious  mind.  As  first,  that  the  subjects  of  re- 
ligion are  all  of  the  same  nature.  Secondly,  that  they  all  de- 
rive this  divine  blessing  from  the  same  origin.  And  thirdly, 
that  it  is  uniformly  adapted  to  the  same  great  and  important 
ends. 

I.  They  are  all  of  the  same  nature.  Were  they  indeed  each 
a  different  species  of  creatures,  formed  after  a  different  manner, 
and  upon  a  different  foundation  as  to  their  acceptance  with  God; 
it  would  follow  that  there  would  be  a  diversity  in  some  of  the 
piain  expressions  of  their  religion.  Faculties  essentially  vary- 
ing from  each  other,  would  require  a  various  kind  of  treatment, 
and  he  who  had  preserved  his  innocence  and  perfection  as  in  the 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION.  59 

beginning,  would  not  need  that  repentance  and  renovation  of 
lieart,  which  are  necessary  to  the  recovery  of  a  guilty  and  de- 
praved creature.  But  this  is  not  the  case  here.  We  arc  all 
made  of  one  blood,  all  endowed  with  the  like  faculties,  all  pos- 
sessed of  the  same  passions,  and  all  the  unhappy  partakers  of 
the  same  depraved  nature.  It  is  acknowledged,  indeed,  that 
there  is  a  strength  of  genius,  and  a  softness  of  natural  temper 
in  some,  which  renders  them  more  amiable  than  others  ;  yet  the 
principal  outlines  of  human  apostacy  are  much  the  same  in  all. 

From  hence  therefore  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  in  respect  of  the 
grand  concerns  of  religion,  the  perceptions  and  reasonings  of 
every  enlightened  mind,  and  the  sensations  and  feelings  of  every 
renewed  heart,  must  be  very  nearly  similar.  The  guilty  must 
be  humbled,  and  made  truly  penitent ;  the  condemned  must  be 
justified,  and  so  become,  in  a  degree  at  least,  cheerful  and  hap- 
py ;  the  depraved  must  be  renewed,  and  as  to  their  prevailing 
disposition  made  holy ;  and  they  who  are  at  variance  with  God 
and  one  another,  must  be  made  capable  of  divine  love  and  friend- 
ship. The  former,  therefore,  having  been  the  true  state  of 
every  good  man,  the  latter  must  of  consequence  be  the  sum  and 
substance  of  the  religion  of  each  one  of  them.  And  since,  in 
every  subject  of  the  grace  of  God,  there  are  thus  the  same  ma- 
terials to  be  wrought  upon,  the  same  passions  and  prejudices  to 
be  overcome,  and  the  stime  change  to  be  effected  ;  it  follows, 
likewise,  that  this  great  concern,  in  its  rise,  progress,  and  final 
consummation,  must  be  conducted  in  every  heart  after  much  the 
same  manner.  All  which  I  think  fully  accounts  for  that  simila- 
rity of  experience  in  good  men,  which  hath  been  so  particularly 
delineated.  This  inference  is  likewise,  with  the  same  force  of 
reason,  to  be  drawn  from  a  contemplation, 

2.  Of  the  one  grand  source  or  origin  whence  religion  is  de- 
rived. It  lafrom  abovCy  the  offspring  of  God,  and  the  genuine 
fruit  of  the  influence  and  operation  of  his  Spirit.  From  this 
one  fountain  the  water  of  life  flows  ;  and  how  various  soever  the 
channels  may  be  through  which  it  runs,  the  many  pure  and 
pleasant  streams  of  it  may  all  be  traced  back  to  this  their  com- 
mon head.  What  is  affirmed  in  this  context,  of  the  miraculous 
gifts  peculiar  to  the  primitive  church,  may,  with  the  like  reason, 
be  applied  to  the  better  blessings  of  religion,  or  of  the  grace  of 


60  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

God,  that  the  same  Spirit  divideth  to  every  man  severally  as  ht 
tcill  a.  It  is  he  who  irradiates  the  dark  mind,  comforts  the  af- 
flicted heart,  new  models  the  perverse  will,  and  sanctifies  the 
jiolliited  affections. 

Now,  as  no  fountain  can  send  forth  at  the  same  place,  sweet 
water  and  bitter  b  ,•  so  we  may  be  very  sure,  that  what  is  the 
effect  of  a  divine  influence  on  the  fiouls  of  men,  must  be  of  the 
same  pure  and  spiritual  nature  and  tendency.  And  for  the 
like  reason  we  may  safely  conclude  in  the  general,  that  how- 
ever the  circumstances  of  particular  persons  may  in  some  re- 
spects differ,  yet  the  manner  of  the  divine  operation  on  the 
hearts  of  men  is  much  the  same.  Religion  will  begin  then  in 
our  humiliation,  and  advance  through  various  degrees  of  sancti- 
fication,  till  it  rises  to  a  perfection  of  happiness  and  glory  in 
the  heavenly  world.     To  all  which  I  shall  only  add, 

3.  That  the  great  and  important  ends  which  religion  proposes, 
clearly  evince  the  simplicity  and  uniformity  of  it.  The  glory 
of  God,  our  own  happiness,  and  the  welfare  of  society,  are  ac- 
knowledged to  be  the  principal  objects  of  this  great  concern. 
And  if  we  take  our  estimate  of  it  by  these  measures,  as  we  shall 
hereby  be  secured  from  any  very  gross  and  absurd  apprehen- 
sions about  it ;  so  we  shall  be  obliged  to  join  issue  with  the  text, 
in  tlie  testimony  it  gives  concerning  its  sameness.  The  lines 
from  the  circumference  to  the  centre,  having  an  immediate  di- 
rection to  that  point,  must  advance  towards  it  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  be  exactly  similar  to  each  other.  In  like  manner, 
there  is  not  one  of  the  particulars  in  which  we  have  made  reli- 
gion to  consist,  but  will  be  found  on  reflection  to  have  the  great 
objects  just  mentioned  immediately  in  view;  nay,  if  either  of 
them  be  excluded,  our  idea  of  religion  must  be  imperfect,  if  not 
the  grand  ends  of  it  absolutely  defeated.  Can  the  true  God 
be  glorified,  or  his  perfections  be  held  in  due  veneration  by  him, 
who  in  effect  exalts  himself  into  a  deity,  and  impiously  offers 
sacrifice  to  his  own  merit  and  sufiiciency  ?  Can  a  man  be  ration- 
ally cheerful  and  substantially  happy,  while  he  stands  exposed 
to  the  wrath  of  God,  and  remains  a  wretched  slave  to  his  lusts  ? 
Or  can  the  prosperity  of  particular  communities,  and  the  welfare 
of  society  in  general,  be  maintained  and  promoted,  while  the 
a  1  Cor.  xii.  II.  b  James  iii.  II. 


THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION.  61 

turbulent  passions  of  depraved  nature  are  unrestrained  and  un- 
subdued? But,  on  the  other  hand,  how  amiable  an  appearance 
does  true  religion  make,  when  unaftccted  humility,  divine  hope, 
pure  desire,  and  fervent  love,  form  the  chief  expressions  of  it ! 
These  are  graces  which  manifestly  tend  to  exalt  the  glory  of 
God,  and  promote  the  happiness  of  men.  And  since  there  is 
apparently  such  an  unity  of  design  in  this  great  concern,  it  ne- 
cessarily follows,  that  if  we  are  the  children  of  God,  and  the 
dii:eiples  of  Jesus,  we  have  been  all  made  to  drink  into  one  spirit. 
Having  thus  illustrated  and  confirmed  the  argument  in  the 
text,  we  shall  close  what  hath  been  said,  with  briefly  applying 
it  to  the  uses  mentioned  in  the  beginning  of  this  discourse. 
And, 

1.  It  fully  obviates  a  very  popular,  and  indeed  a  very  plau- 
sible objection  to  the  truth  of  religion.  "  There  are  so  many 
different  notions  and  professions  in  the  world,  says  the  man  of 
infidelity,  that  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  determine  which  is  right. 
The  natural  inference  therefore  from  this  variety  of  sentiment 
is,  that  all  religions  are  doubtful  and  defective  of  that  degree  of 
evidence  which  is  necessary  to  satisfy  an  inquisitive  mind." 
But  the  light  in  which  this  matter  hath  been  placed,  clearly 
shews  the  objection  to  be  fallacious,  and  the  conclusion  most  ir- 
rational and  absurd. 

That  men  do  reason  very  differently,  and  that  too  upon  the 
essential  points  of  divine  revelation,  is  acknowledged  ;  and  that 
many  do  make  religion  to  consist  in  what  does  not  really  belong 
to  it,  and  profess  themselves  to  be  what  they  are  not,  is  likewise 
as  certain.  But  it  does  not  follow  from  these  abuses  of  re- 
ligion, that  it  is  itself  a  vague,  loose  and  uncertain  things 
There  is  but  one  way  to  heaven,  and  however  the  apprehen- 
sions of  good  men  themselves  as  to  some  lesser  things,  may  not 
be  alike  clear,  and  their  external  forms  of  profession  may  in 
many  respects  differ ;  yet  the  leading  principles  of  their  judg- 
ment, and  the  main  feelings  and  experiences  of  their  hearts,  are 
strictly  analogous  and  similar.  And  we  may  venture  to  appeal 
to  every  one,  who  hath  entered  into  the  spirit  of  these  great 
and  important  matters,  for  the  truth  of  wiiat  we  have  affirmed. 
Be  not  fihocked  therefore  at  the  different  appearances  religion 
may  assume.     Tlioy  arc  easily  to  be  accounted  for,  upon  this 


62  THE  SAMENESS  OF  RELIGION. 

plain  and  acknowledged  principle,  that  at  present  we  know  in 
part,  and  prophesy  in  part,  and  that  the  best  of  us  are  subject 
to  prejudices,  which  through  various  causes  are  almost  uncon- 
querable. Religion  is  however  but  one  thing  ;  and  if  you  are 
so  happy  as  really  to  know  and  feel  what  it  is,  you  will  have 
the  testimony  of  all  good  men,  of  every  age,  kindred,  nation 
and  tongue,  to  join  you  in  your  humble  and  cheerful  profession 
of  it.     This  argument  also, 

2.  Furnishes  a  powerful  motive  to  the  cultivation  of  intimate 
union  and  cordial  ?fFection,  among  all  the  people  of  God.  Is 
religion  owe  thing?  Then  they  who  are  partakers  of  this  one 
comrhon  blessing,  should  also  be  the  partakers  of  each  other's 
esteem  and  love.  I  mean  not  from  hence  to  infer  the  least  indif- 
ference to  any  divine  truth,  which  proposes  itself  to  the  faith  of 
a  Christian.  As  truth  can  be  but  one,  so  no  discovery  which 
infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  have  thought  fit  to  make,  is  by 
any  means  to  be  considered  as  indifferent  in  itself,  and  of  little 
or  no  use.  Thus  to  treat  any  of  the  sacred  doctrines  or  insti- 
tutions of  the  Bible,  is,  in  proportion  to  their  importance,  to 
sap  the  very  foundation  of  that  love  and  union  we  wish  to  re- 
commend. That  integrity  which  arises  out  of  the  nature  of  re- 
ligion, demands  a  firm  and  unshaken  attachment  to  whatever 
appears  to  be  of  divine  authority.  And  that  pure  concern  which 
it  excites  in  the  breast,  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of 
mankind,  not  only  excuses  but  warrants  a  becoming  zeal  in  the 
defence  of  the  truth. 

But  surely,  as  we  ought  all  to  contend  earnestly  for  the  faith 
once  delivered  to  the  saints ,-  so  we  are  obliged  by  the  simplicity 
and  sameness  of  that  divine  spirit  and  temper,  which  hath  been 
infused  into  our  hearts,  most  sincerely  and  affectionately  to  love 
one  another.  If  the  laws  of  humanity  constrain  us  to  express 
a  tender  regard  tovvard  mankind  in  general,  purely  upon  this 
principle  that  they  partake  of  the  same  nature  with  ourselves; 
the  argument  must  receive  additional  strength,  when  it  comes 
clothed  with  all  the  native  dignity  and  generosity  which  reli- 
gion gives  it,  at  the  same  time  presenting  to  our  view  the  good 
man  who  is  born  from  above,  as  the  object  of  this  our  esteem 
and  affection.  Can  we  believe  him  to  be  the  offspring  of  God, 
the  brother  of  Jesus,  and  a  partaker  of  the  same  nature  with 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RKLTGION.  63 

ourselves,  and  not  embrace  him  with  the  utmost  cordiahty  in 
the  arms  of  Cln-istian  charity?  God  forbid  that  we  should  be 
insensible  to  such  divine  impressions  !  Beloved,  let  t(s  love  one 
another,  for  love  is  of  God  ,•  and  every  one  that  loveth,  is  born 
of  God,  and  knoiceth  God.  He  that  loveth  not,  knoweth  not 
God ;  for  God  is  love  a.  May  this  temper  live  and  increase 
in  each  of  our  hearts,  so  provincj  us  to  be  the  disciples  of  Jesus; 
till  at  length  it  shall  arrive  at  its  utmost  perfection,  in  the 
realms  of  light  and  glory  above  ! 


DISCOURSE  IV. 

THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 
Luke  x.  42. One  thing  is  needful. 

X  HAT  religion  is  a  concern  of  infinite  importance  to  mankind, 
every  one  will  acknowledge  who  admits  that  there  really  is 
such  a  thing.  And  yet,  alas  !  there  are  few  only  who  have  a 
deep  operative,  abiding  sense  of  this  impressed  Upon  their  hearts. 
To  excite  therefore  your  attention  to  this  one  grand  concern, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  persuade  you  to  a  vigorous  and 
persevering  pursuit  of  it  is  the  object  of  this  discourse.  Nor  can, 
methinks,  any  one  among  us  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  this  argument, 
while  he  duly  reflects,  that  it  is  not  only  the  most  interesting 
which  was  ever  proposed  to  his  attention,  but  that  it  stands  thus 
distinguished  in  our  text,  by  the  decisive  sentence  of  the  Son  of 
God  himself. 

What  led  our  Saviour  to  discourse  on  this  subject,  is  par- 
ticularly mentioned  in  the  preceding  verses.  Entering  it  seems 
into  a  certain  village,  he  was  invited  to  the  house  of  a  woman 
named  Martha,  who  had  a  sister  called  Mary.  This  village,  it 
is  highly  probable,  was  Bethany,  a  place  not  fir  from  Jerusa- 
lem ;  and  these  two  women,  the  same  of  wliom  the  Evangelist 

a  1  John  iv.  7,  8. 


64  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RET.IGION. 

Johu  speaks  a,  and  whose  brother  Lazarus  had  been  raised 
from  the  dead.  They  appear  both  of  them  to  have  been  the 
friends  of  Jesus,  and  of  religion  ;  though,  in  the  course  of  the 
story,  the  preference,  in  regard  of  piety,  is  manifestly  given  to 
Mary  above  Martha. 

As  to  Mary,  she  sat  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  arid  heard  his  wordb. 
Her  attention  was  almost  wholly  taken  up  with  the  things  of 
God;  so  that  she  gladly  embraced  every  opportunity  of  hearing 
our  Saviour's  doctrine,  and  profiting  by  his  instructions.  But 
as  to  Martha,  she  was  cumbered  about  imich  serving  c.  Indeed 
her  much  serving  was  the  effect  of  her  hospitality,  and  an  expres- 
sion of  her  love  to  Christ,  and  was  therefore,  in  these  views  of 
it,  highly  commendable.  But  her  active  and  impetuous  temper 
had  hurried  her  into  too  great  anxiety  about  worldly  things,  and 
so  was  likely  to  prove  hurtful  to  her  best  interests.  Yea,  one 
ill  effect  of  it  remarkably  appeared,  in  the  indecent  fretfulness 
she  betrayed  on  the  present  occasion.  For,  in  the  midst  of  her 
busy  care  to  provide  for  our  Saviour's  entertainment,  observing 
her  sister  wholly  taken  up  with  his  company  and  conversation, 
she  petulantly  complains  of  her  inattention  to  the  affairs  of  the 
family,  and  prays  that  she  might  be  dismissed  to  assist  her  there- 
in. To  which  our  Lord  immediately  makes  answer  in  the  verse 
preceding  the  text  :  Martha,  Martha,  thou  art  careful  and 
troubled,  about  many  things.  "  The  anxiety  you  express  upon 
this  occasion  is  unbecoming  and  sinful.  How  fond  soever 
you  may  be  of  shewing  me  respect,  yet  there  is  a  mixture  of 
vanity  with  your  hospitality,  and  of  worldly  mindedness  with 
your  care  and  industry.  You  are  too  busy  about  these  matters. 
The  affairs  of  your  family,  though  they  ought  to  be  prudently 
attended  to,  yet  should  not  shut  out  the  grand  concern  of  God 
and  religion.  This  is  the  one  thing  needful.  Be  persuaded 
therefore  to  transfer  your  needless  anxieties,  from  these  many 
trifling  matters,  to  that  which  is  of  indispensable  importance. 
There  is  a  necessity  of  erne  thing  d.  And  instead  of  censuring 
your  sister  Mary  as  if  she  were  too  religious,  rather  consider  her 
conduct  as  a  proper  pattern  for  your  imitation ;  for  she  hath 
chosen  that  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
herr 

a  John  xi.  h  Luke  x.  39.  c  Ver.  40.  d  'E»<^  Si  i?i  xi^'"' 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  65 

And  now,  methinks,  little  pains  need  be  taken  to  prove,  that 
this  reproof  of  our  Saviour's  is  of  more  general  use  than  in  the 
particular  instance  before  us,  and  that  he  himself  so  designed  it. 
Dismissing  therefore  any  farther  concern  with  Martha,  let  us 
consider  this  most  important  and  salutary  admonition  as  ad- 
dressed immediately  to  ourselves.  There  is  a  strong  propensity 
in  each  of  us  to  an  undue  solicitude  about  the  affairs  of  the  pre- 
sent life.  But  what  says  Christ  to  us  amidst  all  our  vain  pur- 
suits?— "  Be  not  careful  and  troubled  about  these  many  things. 
There  is  need  of  one  thing  only  :  let  that  therefore  be  the  main 
object  of  your  attention." 

If  it  be  asked  what  this  one  thing  is  ?  the  answer  is  ready, 
It  is  religion,  or  a  principle  of  divine  life  implanted  in  the  heart 
by  the  grace  of  God ;  the  main  expressions  of  which  are,  faith 
in  Christ,  and  repentance  towards  God.  By  the  prophets  it  is 
usually  styled,  the  fear  of  the  Lord  a,  and  a  new  heart  b  ;  and 
by  the  apostles,  the  new  creature  c,  the  incorruptible  seed  d,  and 
the  wisdom  that  is  from  above  e.  It  includes  in  it  an  interest 
in  the  mediation  of  Christ  and  all  the  blessings  of  salvation,  as 
its  privilege ;  and  the  right  government  of  the  temper  and  life, 
as  its  duty.  My  present  design  is  not  to  enter  into  a  particular 
explanation  of  the  nature  of  religion,  that  having  been  attempt- 
ed already ;  but  to  confine  myself  entirely  to  the  importance  of 
it.  It  is  of  all  things  most  necessary,  and  that  without  which, 
we  cannot  fail  of  being  exposed  to  the  utmost  misery  and  dan- 
ger. In  order  therefore  to  set  this  argument  in  the  strongest 
light,  we  shall, 

I.  Compare  the  one  thing  needful  with  the  many  other  things 
of  the  present  life,  about  which  we  are  apt  to  be  careful  and 
troubled. 

II.  Shew  more  directly  wherein  the  Importance  of  it  consists  ; 
and  then, 

III.  Confirm  this  view  of  it  by  some  plain  reflections  on  the 
nature  of  religion,  as  it  hath  been  already  in  general  explained. 

If  we  compare  serious  religion  with  the  most  important  and 
interesting  concerns  of  human  life,  it  will  clearly  appear  to  have 
the  precedence  of  them  all.     Knowledge,  reputation,  friendship^ 

a  Jer.  xxxii.  40,  &c.  b  Ezek.  xvili.  31.        c  2  Cor.  v.  17 Gal.  vi.  15. 

d  1  John  iii.  9.— 1  Fet.  i.  23.  e  Jam.  iii.  17. 

VOL.  I.  E 


66  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

subsistence  and  health,  will  I  imagine  include  in  tliem  every 
thing,  which  mankind  hath  been  used  to  account  needful. 

1.  Knowledge  we  will  mention  first,  as  it  is  what  men  in  ge- 
neral deem  the  least  necessary,  though  it  be  an  excellent  accom- 
plishment, and  in  some  respects  superior  to  any  of  the  blessings 
just  mentioned.  An  acquaintance  with  human  nature,  with  the 
history  of  the  world,  with  the  various  interests,  of  mankind,  and 
with  the  connections  and  dependencies  of  all  things  around  us, 
is  a  very  desirable  attainment.  Nor  is  the  utility  of  it  incon- 
siderable, since  it  not  only  affords  a  rational  pleasure  to  the 
mind,  but  is  of  great  importance  to  direct  our  conduct  in  most 
of  the  affairs  of  life.  So  that  we  are  highly  indebted  to  those 
M'ho,  at  the  expence  of  much  time  and  unwearied  labour,  have 
generously  contributed  to  the  interests  of  learning  and  know- 
ledge. 

But  notwithstanding  this,  human  science,  whatever  be  the 
benefits  resulting  from  it,  cannot  be  styled,  the  one  thing  need- 
ful;  no,  not  absolutely  so,  even  in  regard  of  our  well-being  in 
the  present  life.  A  man  may  be  wholly  rude  and  uncultivated 
as  to  any  accomplishment  of  this  sort,  and  yet  be  both  a  good 
and  a  happy  man,  an  useful  member  of  society,  and  a  joyful  ex- 
pectant of  future  felicity  and  glory.  Not  a  few  instances  of  this 
sort  we  have  frequently  before  our  eyes.  Nay  it  is  possible, 
and  it  too  often  happens,  that  persons  of  distinguished  abilities, 
and  of  extraordinary  attainments  in  respect  of  these  things,  may 
be  destitute,  not  only  of  the  grace  of  God,  but  of  a  common 
principle  of  honesty;  and  so  be  rather  the  enemies  than  the 
friends  of  mankind,  the  pests  rather  than  the  ornaments  of  so- 
ciety, and  instruments  of  the  greatest  evil,  rather  than  of  any 
good  to  their  fellow  creatures.  Human  knowledge  therefore, 
however  useful,  is  not  so  necessary  but  it  may  be  dispensed  with, 
especially  when  laid  in  the  balance  with  the  grand  concerns  of 
religion.  Whatever  rational  pleasure  it  may  afford  the  mind, 
it  will  not  give  peace  to  the  conscience.  However  it  may  direct 
our  conduct  in  the  civil  affairs  of  life,  it  will  not  guide  our  feet 
to  heaven.  And  though  it  may  secure  us  from  many  temporary 
evils  and  inconveniences,  it  will  not  effectually  give  us  the 
conquest  over  ourselves,  and  make  us  meet  for  a  better  world. 

2.  Reputation  is  a  desirable  blessing ;  and  when  considered 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  67 

in  reference  to  probity  and  virtue,  is  certainly  of  far  greater  im- 
portance to  our  happiness,  even  in  the  present  life,  than  the 
most  considerable  improvements  in  human  science.  It  is  natu- 
ral for  men  to  wish  to  please.  A  generous  mind  feels  a  satis- 
faction in  being  approved  by  the  wise  and  good.  But  this 
passion,  carried  beyond  its  due  bounds,  hurries  men  into  an 
immoderate  and  sinful  pursuit  of  honour  and  applause  ;  and 
that  often  upon  the  footing,  not  of  real,  but  of  supposed  merit. 
To  be  elevated  above  the  common  level  of  mankind,  and  to  be 
deemed  great,  prudent,  and  honourable  by  the  men  of  the 
world,  this  too  many  account  their  chief  happiness,  and  eagerly 
grasp  at,  as  the  one  thmg  needful. 

But,  alas  !  how  sad  the  deception !  What  vain  shadows, 
what  empty  bubbles,  are  all  the  honours  of  this  transitory 
world  !  They  will  not  satisfy  an  immortal  mind ;  nor  will  they 
always  add  ease  and  security  to  our  outward  circumstances.  So 
far  from  it,  that  they  frequently  prove  the  occasions  of  many 
anxious  cares,  and  restless  disappointments.  Yea,  even  the 
just  respect  and  esteem  of  his  fellow-creatures,  is  not  essen- 
tially necessary  to  a  man's  real  felicity;  nor  will  it  certainly  se- 
cure him  from  the  many  other  evils  of  human  life,  to  which 
he  stands  exposed  in  common  with  the  rest  of  mankind.  And 
however  a  good  name^  or  a  character  for  sobriety  and  integrity 
is  better  than  pi'ecious  ointment^  and  far  more  fragrant  to  a  vir- 
tuous mind  than  the  sweetest  perfumes  to  the  senses  :  yet  it 
is  not  the  one  thing  needful.  This  invaluable  blessing  a  man 
may  fully  possess,  and  yet  on  many  accounts  be  extremely  un- 
happy. And  though,  on  the  other  hand,  it  be  invidiously 
and  cruelly  denied  him,  yet  he  may  enjoy  the  most  agreeable 
peace  and  composure  within.  But  if  neither  knowledge  nor 
reputation  come  within  this  description ;  may  it  not  be  applied, 

3.  "^Yo friendship'?  I  had  almost  said,  Yes:  For  so  inesti- 
mable is  the  blessing,  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  exceed  in  the . 
commendation  of  it.  It  is  one  of  the  chief  felicities  of  the  " 
present  life.  We  were  made  for  society.  We  could  not  live 
without  it.  The  happiness  of  heaven  consists  in  the  perfection 
of  it.  Friendship  is  a  firm  barrier  against  many  of  the  evils 
and  dangers  of  life ;  a  reviving  cordial  to  the  heart  amidst  most 
of  the  sorrows  and  afflictions  of  it ;  and  that  fruit  of  heavenly 

E  2 


68  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

growth,  which  adds  a  rich  flavour  to  all  our  other  enjoyments. 
The  advantages  of  counsel  and  reproof,  of  assistance  and  sym- 
pathy, which  arise  out  of  it,  cannot  fail  of  endearing  it  to  every 
thoughtful  and  prudent  mind.  He,  therefore,  who  hath  a  wise, 
affectionate  and  faithful  friend,  may  be  justly  deemed  the  fa- 
vourite of  Providence :  and  though  he  ranks  with  the  lowest 
class  of  mankind,  yet  (so  rarely  is  true  friendship  to  be  found) 
he  stands  distinguished,  in  point  of  happiness,  above  many 
who  shine  in  all  the  pomp  and  splendour  of  human  greatness. 

But  after  all,  this  is  not  the  one  thing  needful — not  so  need- 
ful as  to  be  of  the  highest  moment.  Our  friends,  however 
dear  to  us,  may  deceive  or  forsake  us,  or  by  death  be  forced 
from  our  embraces.  Some  amidst  a  swarm  of  friends  have 
been  miserable.  Yea,  it  is  often  beyond  the  power  of  friend- 
ship to  succour  and  relieve  us  in  outward  extremity  ;  and  much 
more  so  to  speak  peace  and  joy  effectually  to  our  hearts,  when 
bowed  down  with  religious  grief  and  melancholy.  Whereas, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  have  been  those,  who,  though  depriv- 
ed of  all  agreeable  connections  on  earth,  yet  have  enjoyed  the 
most  peaceful  security,  and  the  most  enlivening  pleasures, 
under  the  shadow  of  his  wings  who  is  friendship  itself.  This 
blessing,  then,  excellent  and  desirable  as  it  is,  is  not  the  one 
thing  needful.     However, 

4.  Most  are  agreed  in  thus  representing  a  man's  subsistence^ 
maintenance,  or  livelihood.  Hence  food  and  raiment  are  usually 
styled  the  necessaries  of  life.  And  such  they  certainly  are : 
we  cannot  live,  we  cannot  subsist  without  them.  A  thousand 
other  things  might  be  dispensed  with  as  superfluities,  or  to  say 
the  best  of  them,  the  agreeable  accommodations  of  the  present 
state.  But  these  are  strictly  speaking  needful :  and  our  Sa- 
viour himself  admits  that  they  are  so,  when,  discoursing  to  his 
disciples  of  these  matters,  he  tells  them.  Your  heavenly  Father 
hnoweih  that  you  have  need  of  them  a.  A  care,  therefore  to  pro- 
vide a  comfortable  support  for  ourselves  and  our  families,  is  not 
only  allowable,  but  our  incumbent  duty.  Yea,  so  far  is  religion 
from  countenancing  sloth,  under  the  pretext  of  indifference  about 
worldl}^  affairs,  that  it  assures  us,  the  man  of  this  character  hath 
denied  thefaith^  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel  b. 

«  Matt.  vi.  32.  h  1  Tim,  v.  8. 


TTIE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  69 

Nevertheless  the  importance  of  these  thmgs  is  only  compara- 
tive, and  they  take  their  denomination  as  needful,  merely  from 
tiieir  reference  to  our  existence  in  the  present  world.  They 
are  necessary,  as  animal  life  cannot  ordinarily  be  maintained  and 
upheld  without  them  :  but  they  are  not  necessary  to  the  exist- 
ence and  well-being  of  our  souls,  or  to  our  future  and  everlast- 
ing felicity.  We  may  be  poor,  destitute  and  miserable,  in  re- 
gard of  our  outward  circumstances,  and  yet  possess  the  best 
riches.  Our  bodies  may  be  clothed  in-  rags,  and  yet  our  souls 
arrayed  in  heavenly  attire.  Our  natures  may  faint  and  die  away 
for  want  of  common  sustenance,  and  yet  our  immortal  spirits  be 
fed  with  living  bread.  Lazarus  was  denied,  not  only  the  dain- 
ties of  the  rich  man's  table,  but  the  crumbs  that  fell  from  it ;  yet 
Lazarus  possessed  the  one  thing  needful.  And  the  same  may  be 
said, 

5.  And  lastly,  as  to  health.  This  every  one  will  acknowledge 
an  important  blessing, — so  important,  that  no  other  enjoyment 
of  life  can  be  properly  relished  without  it.  What  are  all  the 
profits,  honours,  and  pleasures  of  the  world,  to  a  man  languish- 
ing of  a  mortal  disease,  worn  out  by  racking  pains,  or  pining 
away  with  loathing  sickness  ?  he  is  absolutely  incapacitated  for 
the  pursuits  of  life,  and  totally  indisposed  to  them.  Wisdom 
and  knowledge,  reputation  and  friendship,  avail  him  little ;  yea, 
food  itself,  the  most  needful  thing  in  life,  however  elegantly 
served  up,  is  nauseous  to  his  taste.  Health,  therefore,  cannot 
but  claim  the  preference  to  every  other  outward  good. 

Yet  even  this  is  not  the  one  thing  needful^  in  the  sense  of  our 
text.  The  health  of  the  soul  is  of  infinitely  greater  moment 
than  that  of  the  body.  This  must  die,  but  that  must  live  for 
ever.  And  how  sad  to  see  the  one  arrayed  in  all  the  bloom 
and  verdure  of  youth,  exulting  in  the  possession  of  ease,  vigour, 
and  strength  ;  while  the  other  is  deformed,  enervated  and  ruin- 
ed by  sin,  growing  up  to  death  and  destruction,  and  ripening 
for  everlasting  vengeance  and  misery  !  And,  on  the  other  hand, 
how  pleasing  to  congratulate  the  Christian,  as  the  apostle  John 
did  Gains  «,  on  the  health  and  prosperity  of  his  soul ;  while  his 
outward  frame,  amidst  the  increasing  languors  of  age  or  sick- 
ness, is  making  speedy  advances  towards  its  final  dissolution  ! 

a  3  John  2. 


70  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

Thus,  neither  knowledge,  nor  7'epntation,  nor  friendship,  nor 
subsistence,  nor  health,  however  excellent,  useful,  or  important 
in  themselves,  are  of  like  moment  with  the  great  and  inestima- 
ble blessing  of  real  religion.  This  demands  the  precedence  of 
them  all,  and  is,  in  the  estimation  of  wisdom  itself,  the  one  thing 
needful.  From  this  comparative  view  of  it,  let  us  then  pro- 
ceed, 

II.  To  inquire  more  directly  wherein  the  importance  of  it 
doth  consist. 

Now  that  surely  will  be  deemed  most  important^  which  en- 
ters into  the  essence  of  our  happiness,  which  takes  in  the  whole 
compass  of  our  interests  both  natural  and  spiritual,  which  hath 
respect  both  to  body  and  soul,  and  which  extends  its  influence 
through  time  into  eternity.  And  such  is  the  nature  of  religion. 
O  that  men  did  but  believe  it !  O  that  by  the  grace  of  God 
they  were  persuaded  to  make  trial  of  it  !  Here  then  we  might 
take  a  view  of  the  many  advantages  which  attend  the  experience 
and  practice  of  religion  in  the  present  life,  and  in  that  which  is 
to  come ;  and  shew  how  admirably  it  is  adapted  to  promote  the 
real  interests  of  persons  of  every  age,  in  every  relation,  and  in 
every  condition. 

I  might  discourse  of  its  utility  to  the  young  ,-  to  check  the 
violence  of  their  passions,  to  restrain  their  inordinate  desires,  to 
regulate  their  aims  and  pursuits,  to  fortify  them  against  the 
snares  of  life,  to  animate  them  to  the  duties  of  it,  to  infuse  a 
sweetness  into  the  enjoyments  of  it,  and  to  add  a  real  beauty  to 
their  character  and  deportment  in  the  view  of  all. — I  might  re- 
present the  importance  of  it  to  persons  of  riper  years ,-  to 
qualify  them  for  the  various  services  to  which  Providence  calls 
them,  to  direct  them  in  emergencies  of  the  most  critical  and  • 
trying  nature,  to  hold  them  steady  to  their  best  interests  in  sea- 
sons of  imminent  temptation  and  danger,  and  to  render  them 
both  respectable  and  useful  in  their  day  and  generation. — And 
hence  I  might  go  on  to  a  description  of  the  many  blessings  it 
pours  upon  Me  hoary  head ;  what  cheerfulness  it  spreads  over 
the  countenance,  when  the  vigour  and  sprightliness  of  youth 
abates;  what  firm  support  it  yields  the  heart,  when  the  animal 
spirits  are  almost  dissolved  and  broken  by  the  infirmities  of 
nature;  and  what  weight  it  adds  to  the  instructions  and  counsels 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  71 

then  given,  when  the  capacity  and  judgment  of  former  years 
are  in  other  respects  greatly  on  tlie  decHne, 

I  might  farther  enlarge  on  the  importance  of  it  to  persons  in 
every  relation  of  life  ;  to  magistrates  and  to  subjects,  to  masters 
and  to  servants,  to  parents  and  to  children,  to  brethren,  to 
friends,  and  to  neighbours :  how  needful  to  teach  men  their  duty, 
to  animate  them  to  it,  and  to  assist  them  in  it. 

From  hence  I  might  go  on  to  represent  the  advantages  re- 
sulting from  it  to  persons  in  every  condition:  in  prosperity, 
when  the  world  smiles  upon  them,  and  they  have  an  affluence 
of  all  outward  good;  to  secure  their  hearts  from  an  immoderate 
fondness  for  present  enjoyments,  to  inspire  their  breasts  with 
thankfulness,  and  to  dispose  them  to  usefulness ;  and  in  adver- 
sity, when  providence  frowns  on  them,  and  they  are  encompass- 
ed on  every  side  with  perplexity,  sorrow  and  trouble,  to  reconcile 
them  to  the  will  of  God,  to  alleviate  their  affliction,  and  to  ren- 
der it  subservient  to  their  real  advantage. 

In  like  manner,  I  might  proceed  to  shew  you  how  needful 
true  religion  is  in  a  time  of  sickness  and  deaths  when  all  tlie 
scenes  of  life  are  passing  away  from  before  our  eyes,  when  the 
king  of  terrors  is  nearly  approaching,  and  when  eternity  with 
all  its  awful  realities  is  immediately  in  our  view  ;  how  needful 
it  is  then  to  banish  fear  from  our  hearts,  to  reconcile  us  to  that 
most  certain  event,  and  to  diffuse  serenity  and  joy  through  our 
minds,  when  nature  itself  is  dissolving  and  dying  away. 

In  a  word,  to  finish  the  scene,  I  might  represent  to  you  the 
never-fading  honours,  and  immortal  pleasures  of  the  heavenly 
world;  the  large  and  fair  inheritance  there  provided  for  the 
sons  of  God,  the  crowns  of  glory  which  shall  be  placed  on  their 
heads,  the  palms  of  victory  which  shall  be  put  into  their  hands, 
the  robes  of  joy  and  gladness  they  shall  wear,  and  the  rest,  the 
happiness,  and  renown  they  shall  possess  to  all  eternity.  But, 
however  instructive  and  animating  these  subjects  are,  I  forbear 
at  present  to  enlarge  any  farther  upon  them. 

PART  11. 

My  design  is  now  to  evince  the  Importance  of  real  religion, 
from  a  contemplation  of  the  misery  and  danger  to  which  the 
want  of  it  necessarily  exposes  us.     And  if  it  can  be  made  ajp- 


"72  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

pear,  that  without  it  we  lie  open  to  the  greatest  evils  in  life — to 
the  utmost  anguish  in  death — and  to  the  wrath  of  God  in  the 
world  to  come;  it  will,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  it  is  the 
one  thing  needful.     Here  then  we  will. 

First,  Take  a  survey  of  the  unhappy  condition  of  a  man  void 
of  religion  in  the  present  life.  To  this  end  let  us  view  him  on 
the  one  hand  triumphing  in  prosperity^  and  on  the  other  laden 
■with  adversity :  events  these  which  are  alike  common  both  to 
the  good  and  to  the  bad.  And  since  it  is  from  them  we  usually 
take  our  measures  of  human  happiness  or  misery,  a  consideration 
of  his  behaviour,  in  both  these  circumstances,  will  give  us  the 
most  striking  idea  of  the  necessity  and  importance  of  true  re- 
ligion. 

1.  Let  prosperity  then,  first  of  all,  be  the  dress  we  view  hira 
in.  His  worldly  schemes  succeed  to  his  wishes.  He  grows 
great,  rich  and  honourable.  He  hath  large  treasures,  wide  ex- 
tended possessions,  numerous  friends  and  dependents,  and  an 
affluence  of  all  outward  good.  His  wealth  entitles  him,  not  to 
power  and  dignity  only,  but  to  all  the  delights  and  gratifications 
of  sense.  He  flourisheth  like  a  green  bay  tree,  his  eyes  stand 
out  with  fatness,  and  he  hath  more  than  heart  can  wish  a.  And 
now  will  you  say  that  this  man  is  happy,  that  his  wealth  secures 
him  from  danger,  and  that,  being  thus  exalted  to  the  pinnacle 
of  honour  and  pleasure,  he  is  beyond  the  reach  of  misery?  O 
no  !  Being  at  enmity  with  God  and  religion,  his  blessings  be- 
come curses  to  him ;  his  prosperity  makes  him  only  a  broader 
mark  for  temptation,  and  so  in  the  end  capable  of  the  greater 
misery. 

Turn  your  eye  from  all  this  glare  of  external  pomp  and 
gaiety  to  his  heart,  and  you  will  find  him  rather  an  object  of 
pity  than  of  envy.  There  reign  the  depraved  passions  of  hu- 
man nature  invested  with  sovereign  power,  and  confirmed  there- 
in by  every  accession  of  worldly  good.  He  is  full,  and  takes 
the  name  of  God  in  vain.  He  hath  every  thing,  and  yet  truly 
enjoys  nothing.  He  abounds,  and  yet  is  not  content.  To  his 
lusts  he  yields,  and  yet  his  lusts  are  not  satisfied.  His  riches 
make  him  poor,  because  they  only  increase  his  desires.  His 
ple^rsures  cease  to  be  pleasures,  through  satiety  and  want  of  va- 
a  Psal.  xxxyii,  35,  Ixxiii,  7. 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  73 

ricty.  The  passions  of  pride,  jealousy,  discontent,  and  desire, 
are  all  irritated  and  inflamed  by  his  successes.  New  tempta- 
tions lead  him  captive  into  new  sins.  Guilt  accumulates  on  his 
conscience.  His  dislike  of  every  thing  that  is  serious  increases. 
He  would  fain  persuade  himself  to  be  an  infidel.  The  evil  day 
he  puts  afar  off.  God  he  hates — the  world  he  loves — death  he 
fears — and  his  own  sovil  he  destroys  for  ever. 

Is  not  then  the  condition  of  this  man,  amidst  all  his  boasted 
enjoyments,  very  deplorable?  Possessing  more  than  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  even  its  joys  and  pleasures,  he  is  miserable.  And 
why  ?  because  he  has  not  the  one  thing  needful,  lives  without 
God  in  the  world,  and  is  a  slave  to  sin  and  sense.  If  this  be 
the  case,  and  let  experience  and  observation  decide  the  point,  of 
what  infinite  importance  is  religion  !  How  needful  this  one 
thing  to  enable  us  to  enjoy  life,  and  to  prevent  our  being  ruined 
by  it !  to  moderate  our  affections  to  the  world,  and  so  secure  us 
from  falling  a  sacrifice  to  it !  to  keep  us  in  the  day  of  tempta- 
tion, and  to  make  us  more  than  conquerors,  when  all  the  powers 
of  earth  and  hell  threaten  our  destruction  ! 

Having  thus  beheld  the  man  of  this  world  arrayed  in  all  the 
gaiety  and  splendour  of  outward  prosperity;  let  us  now  reverse 
the  scene,  and  view  him  plunged  in  the  depths, 

2.  Oi  adversity ;  for  adversity  is  sometimes  the  lot  of  bad  as 
well  as  good  men.  We  will  suppose  him,  then,  stript  of  the 
profits,  honours,  and  pleasures  of  life,  entangled  with  the  diffi- 
culties and  disappointments  of  it,  reduced  to  poverty  and  want, 
laden  with  disgrace  and  contempt,  languishing  of  the  pains  and 
weaknesses  of  declining  nature,  and  to  complete  the  scene, 
treated  with  coldness  and  neglect  by  his  best  friends,  and  utterly 
forsaken  and  abandoned  by  the  rest.  To  all  these  calamities, 
or  at  least  to  one  or  other  of  them,  we  will,  I  say,  suppose  him 
subjected.  Now  in  these  circumstances,  how  does  he  behave  ? 
how  does  he  support  himself?  what  considerations  is  he  possess- 
ed of  to  calm  his  mind,  and  fortify  his  heart?  It  is  possible,  in- 
deed, that  firmness  of  animal  spirits,  or  ambition  to  be  thought 
superior  to  the  misfortunes  of  life,  may  in  some  degree  suppress 
or  stifle  the  feelings  of  nature,  and  enable  him  to  assume  an  ap- 
pearance somewhat  brave  and  steady.  But  being  destitute  of 
any  just  sense  of  religion,  how  is  it  possible  he  should  enjoy  that 


74  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

real  inward  serenity,  and  that  rational  uniform  patience  and  reso- 
lution, which  the  faith  of  God,  of  his  providence,  and  a  better 
world,  inspires? 

On  the  contrary,  the  fear  of  God  being  far  removed  from  his 
eyes,  and  the  hope  of  the  gospel  having  no  firm  hold  on  his  heart, 
we  shall  rather  hear  him  affronting  €}od  with  the  most  indecent 
reflections  on  his  dispensations,  or  else  just  expiring  under  the 
insupportable  weight  of  his  sorrows.  And  in  these  sad  circum- 
stances, how  much  is  the  man  of  this  world  to  be  pitied  !  He  has 
no  God  to  fly  to — no  providence  to  confide  in — no  Saviour  to 
pity  him — no  divine  aids  to  assist  and  strengthen  him — no  pro- 
mise of  better  blessings  to  secure  him  from  despondency — nor 
the  least  hope  of  future  happiness  and  glory  to  soothe  his  tem- 
pestuous passions,  or  to  administer  joy  and  gladness  to  his  heart. 
Most  men  seem  to  think  religion  needful  at  such  a  time.  And 
indeed  if  there  were  no  truth  in  it,  yet  the  firm  persuasion  of  it 
would  be  extremely  eligible,  when  in  these  circumstances ;  as  it 
so  much  tends  to  quiet  the  troubled  breast,  and  to  reconcile  it  to 
events  which  are  necessary  and  unavoidable.  A  man  over- 
whelmed with  outward  trouble,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  thick 
and  dark  tempest,  without  one  ray  of  hope  as  to  a  future  state, 
must  of  all  men  be  most  miserable.  Such  the  apostles  acknow- 
ledged they  should  have  been,  had  they  remained  strangers  to  the 
animating  prospects  of  a  better  world  which  Christianity  affords. 

Religion,  then,  is  most  certainly  the  one  thing  needful^  as  the 
want  of  it  exposes  men  to  the  greatest  danger  in  a  time  oi pro- 
sperity^ and  adds  infinitely  to  their  distress  in  that  of  adversity. 
And  from  this  view  of  things,  we  may  easily  judge  how  it  may 
be  with  such  persons,  in  every  condition,  circumstance,  and  re- 
lation of  life.  Their  hearts  not  being  principled  with  the  grace 
of  God,  they  can  have  nothing  to  preserve  the  balance  in  their 
minds ;  but  must  on  every  occasion  be  subject  to  a  hurtful,  if 
not  painful  fluctuation  of  the  passions.  They  can  have  nothing 
to  ward  off  the  many  dangers  continually  flying  around  them; 
but  must  lie  at  the  mercy  of  every  resolute  temptation  which 
assaults  them.  But  allowing  the  man  of  this  world  every  per- 
quisite of  happiness,  which  can  be  supposed  to  fall  to  his  share, 
or  indeed  which  the  delights  and  pleasures  pf  sense  can  possi- 
bly afford ;  yet, 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  75 

Secondly,  He  must  die  ;  and  being  at  enmity  with  religion, 
how  deplorable  mvist  his  condition  be  in  that  critical,  that  trying 
hour  !  It  is  dreadful  indeed  to  describe  to  you  the  countenance, 
the  expressions,  the  feelings  of  a  dying  sinner.  Many,  I  am 
sensible  there  are,  who  pass  out  of  life  in  a  hardened  and 
thoughtless  manner:  but  the  reverse  is  perhaps  most  commonly 
the  case.  And  where  the  mind  is  capable  of  reflection  and  pro- 
spect, and  especially  where  the  conscience  is  thoroughly  awake  ; 
how  pungent  must  be  the  distress,  how  bitter  the  agony  of  the 
soul? 

Some  of  us,  it  may  be,  have  stood  by  the  bed  of  a  departing 
sinner,  have  the  dreadful  image  still  before  our  eyes,  and  the 
sad  accents  still  sounding  in  our  ears.  "  Every  earthly  scene  is 
passing  away,  the  bonds  of  nature  are  just  dissolving,  and  as  to 
this  world,  to  which  I  have  sacrificed  my  heart,  my  hopes,  my 
all,  I  am  no  more.  With  you,  my  friends,  my  possessions,  my 
honours,  my  sensual  gratifications,  yea,  every  thing  that  is  dear 
to  me,  I  must  now  part;  part  with  you,  never — never  to  enjoy 
you  any  more  !  And  what  have  I  before  me  ?  all  is  dark  and 
gloomy.  I  dare  not  hope  for  heaven,  for  I  am  yet  in  my  sins. 
Or  if  I  could  suppose  it  were  possible  I  might  possess  it,  yet  I 
cannot  wish  for  it.  It  is  a  holy  place,  and  so  perverse  is  this 
heart  of  mine,  that  though  I  leave  what  is  mortal  behind  me,  I 
cannot  think  of  being  happy  there.  O  sad  !  as  I  am,  thus  in- 
capable of  happiness  !  Nay,  my  conscience  tells  me  I  am  justly 
doomed  to  misery — an  alien  from  God — an  enemy  to  him — a 
rebel  against  him  !  His  mercies  I  have  abused,  his  warnings  I 
have  slighted,  his  grace  I  have  affronted  and  despised  ;  and  now 
I  am  undone — undone  for  ever."  What  distractinir,  what  hor- 
rible  language  this  !  The  spirit  of  a  man  may  hear  his  infir- 
mities, but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  a  ?  It  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God  b.  Mlio  knoweth 
the  power  of  his  anger  ?  even  as  is  his  fear  so  is  his  ivrath  c. 
How  lamentable  a  sight  this  !  a  soul  perishing  in  its  sins  !  See  1 
the  pale  countenance,  the  cold  sweat,  the  faultering  lips  !  Na- 
ture dissolves — every  surrounding  object  vanishes,  and  the  eyes 
swim  in  death.  The  curtain  of  humanity  falls,  and  upon  the 
naked,  helpless  soul,  eternity  at  once  pours  ajl  its  tremendous 

a  Trov.  xviii.  H.  k  Heb.  x.  31.  c  PsaL  xc.  11. 


76  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

realities.  Say  then,  is  not  religion,  in  these  moments  at  least, 
the  one  thing  needful  ?  Surely  it  is.  But  if  you  still  doubt  the 
truth  of  what  I  say,  ask  those  who,  having  death  and  eternity  im- 
mediately in  their  view,  are  best  capable  of  resolving  this  in- 
teresting question  ;  and  they  will  acknowledge,  I  had  almost 
said  to  a  man,  its  vast  importance. 

But  the  iinportance  of  it  is  chiefly  to  be  estimated,  by  the 
reference  it  hath  to  a  future  state.     Which  leads  me  now, 

Thirdly,  To  describe  to  you,  or  at  least  to  attempt  a  de- 
scription of  the  gi'eat  loss  which  he  sustains  who  dies  a  stranger 
to  God  and  religion,  and  the  injinite  miseries  which  are  the  lot 
of  the  impenitent  and  ungodly.  Scripture  assures  us,  that  ex^ 
cept  a  man  be  born  again,  Jie  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God  a  : 
and  that  the  iciched  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punish" 
mcnt  b.     Now  by  these  declarations  it  clearly  appears, 

1.  That  he  who  passes  out  of  life  in  an  unrenewed  state,  is 
for  ever  excluded  the  heavenly  world.  A  consideration  this 
which,  methinks,  upon  the  most  general  view  of  it,  reflects  an 
amazing  importance  on  religion.  But  how  does  the  importance 
of  it  magnify  in  proportion  to  the  clearness  and  brightness  of 
our  views  of  that  blissful  state  !  And  yet,  since  our  most  exalted 
ideas  of  it  are  inadequate  and  imperfect,  the  greatness  of  the 
loss  cannot  be  fully  ascertained  in  the  present  life.  Let  us, 
however,  for  a  moment  attempt  to  follow  him  who  was  caught 
up  into  paradise,  and  there  heard  and  saw  things  that  are  un- 
utterable c, — to  follow  him  thither  in  our  meditations,  that  we 
may  there  learn  how  needful  this  one  thing  is,  without  which 
we  can  never  have  admission  to  that  world,  or  if  we  could,  could 
never  enjoy  it. 

"  Tell  us  then,  O  ye  happy  spirits,  who  are  already  in  pos- 
session of  heaven,  what  are  your  natures,  what  your  capa- 
cities, what  your  pleasures,  and  what  your  employments.  In 
heaven,  that  immeasureable  space  of  light,  perfection,  and 
glory  ye  dwell.  Your  immortal  spirits,  refined  from  all  the 
dross  of  ignorance,  sin  and  sense,  are  exalted  to  the  utmost 
pitch  of  vigour,  purity  and  joy.  With  myriads  of  perfect 
beings,  all  formed  for  friendship  and  love,  you  for  ever  associate. 
The  divine  Jesus,  who  the  other  day  yielded  his  life  unto  death 
a  John  iii.  3.  b  Matt,  xzv,  46.  c  2  Cor.  xli.  4-. 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  77 

for  your  sakes,  deigns  himself,  and  in  your  own  nature,  to  dwell 
among  you,  to  converse  with  you,  and  to  lay  open  his  heart  to 
your  view.  Yea,  the  blessed  God,  arrayed  in  all  the  charms  of 
infinite  love,  as  well  as  in  all  the  splendour  of  ineffable  glory, 
condescends  to  reveal  himself  to  you,  and  to  shed  on  you  the 
richest  blessings  of  his  bounty  and  goodness.  O  the  pure,  the 
substantial,  t];e  growing  pleasures  you  enjoy,  while  you  behold 
his  face  in  righteousness,  and  feel  yourselves  transformed  into 
his  perfect  likeness  I  while  you  contemplate  his  excellencies, 
sing  his  praises,  and  never  cease  to  do  his  will !  Yours  is  the 
distinguished  honour  to  be  kings  and  priests  unto  God  a,  to  sit 
with  Jesus  in  his  throne,  and  to  minister  to  him  in  his  temple 
above.  Yours  is  the  exalted  privilege  to  possess  an  inheritance 
which  is  incorruptible,  undejiled^  and  which  fadeth  not  away  b, 
and  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  c.  And 
yours  is  the  refined  bliss  to  feed  on  heavenly  joys,  and  to  drink 
of  rivers  of  pleasures  which  run  at  the  right  hand  of  God  for 
evermore."     But  I  forbear 

How  vain  the  attempt  to  describe  the  glories  of  that  world  I 
Our  sight  is  too  weak  to  sustain  a  vision  so  bright  and  splendid. 
Till  therefore  we  arrive  at  heaven,  we  must  be  content  with 
little  more  than  being  assured,  that  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  nor  heart  conceived  what  it  is  d.  Yet  by  this  distant  and 
confused  view  of  it,  we  clearly  discern  that  the  loss,  whoever 
suffers  it,  must  be  immense,  since  there  are  no  human  measures 
by  which  we  can  fully  take  account  of  it.  Of  what  infinite  mo- 
ment then,  is  this  one  thing  needful!  But  this  is  not  all ;  its  im- 
portance is  still  further  heightened  and  increased  by  a  view, 

2.  Of  tJie  misery  to  be  endured,  as  well  as  the  loss  sustained 
by  the  impenitent  and  ungodly.  These  shall  go  away,  says  he 
who  shall  be  judge  on  that  great  occasion,  into  everlasting  pu- 
nishment  e.  And  what  is  that  punislirnent  ?  Adequate  con- 
ceptions of  it  we  caimot  frame,  any  more  than  of  the  happiness 
we  have  been  contemplating.  Yet  scripture  presents  us  with 
such  a  scene,  as  may  justly  make  the  heart  of  a  sinner  tremble, 
and  convince  him  that  there  is  the  most  indispensable  necessity 
in  religion.     If  to  be  deprived  of  all  the  boasted  acquisitions 

a  Rev.  i.  6.  6  1  Pet.  i.  4.  c  2  Cor.  iv.  17. 

d  1  Cor.  ii.  9.  e  Matt.  xxir.  46. 


78  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

and  enjoyments  of  the  present  life ;  if  to  be  abandoned  to  the 
rage  of  fierce  and  ungovernable  passions,  without  feeling  even 
the  little  transient  pleasure  which  results  from  the  gratification 
of  them  ;  if  to  endure  the  acute  and  unremitting  pains  of  a  con- 
science pierced  and  toi'n  asunder  with  guilt  and  fear ;  if  to  be 
cast  out  of  the  presence  of  God  in  the  character  of  a  friend,  and 
yet  to  have  him  ever  before  the  eye  as  a  justly  incensed  and  ir- 
reconcileable  enemy ;  if  to  bear  the  weight  of  his  indignation, 
without  any  support  under  it,  or  any  mitigation  of  it ;  and  if,  in 
one  word,  amidst  all  to  have  no  hope  of  deliverance ;  if  this  be 
misery,  such  scripture  assures  us  is  the  portion  appointed  the 
%vicked.  To  them  that  obey  not  the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteous- 
ness, even  to  every  soul  of  man  which  doth  evil,  he  will  render 
indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish  a.  And  they 
who  know  not  God,  and  obey  not  the  gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  shall  be  punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord,  and  from  the  glory  of  his  power  b. 

It  is  an  unpleasant,  and  I  am  sensible  an  unthankful  office 
to  lead  you,  sinner,  down  into  the  regions  of  the  damned,  and 
to  shew  you  the  mansions  where  dwell  spirits  of  the  like  impure, 
fierce  and  diabolical  passions  with  yourself;  but  the  sad,  the  tre- 
mendous necessity  of  which  the  text  speaks,  obliges  me.  The 
compassionate  Jesus  himself,  who  came  on  the  kind  and  gene- 
rous design  of  saving  both  soul  and  body,  hath  bid  yovL  fear  him 
who  can  destroy  the  one  and  the  other  in  hell  c.  And  while 
he  hath  directed  the  views  of  his  faithful  disciples  to  the  fair 
and  pleasant  fields  of  paradise  above,  describing  them  in  all 
their  beauty,  verdure  and  glory ;  he  hath  set  before  your  eyes 
a  scene,  which  though  figurative  is  expressive  of  real  and  in- 
tense misery,  even  the  pit  that  hath  no  bottom  d,  the  worm  that 
never  dieth  e,  outer  darkness  f,  and  fire  unquenchable  g.  O  ! 
who  can  tell  what  are  the  terrors  of  the  second  death  ?  or  de- 
scribe what  is  meant  by  the  power  of  his  anger  h,  who  is  a 
consuming  fire  i ;  and  by  the  wrath  not  of  the  lion  only,  but 
of  the   abused  and  provoked  Lamb  k  ?  Enough  however  we 

a  Rom.  ii.  6,  8,  9.  6  2  Thess.  i.  8,  9.  c  Matt.  x.  28. 

d  Rev.  ix.  ],  &(!.  e  Mark  ix.  U.  /Matt.  viii.  12. 

g  Mark  ix.  4.4..  //  Psal.  xc.  11.  i  Heb.  xii.  29. 
k  Rev.  vi.  16. 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  79 

know  of  it,  even  from  this  general  representation,  to  put  an  in- 
finite importance  into  the  one  grand  concern  recommended  in 
our  text. 

PART  III. 

After  what  hath  been  said,  one  should  suppose  there  need 
be  nothing  firther  added,  to  confirm  the  argument  under  consi- 
deration.    And  yet, 

III.  There  are  some  collateral  proofs  or  illustrations  of  the 
ijifinite  importance  of  religion,  which,  though  I  shall  not  par- 
ticularly enlarge  on  them,  must  not  be  omitted.     Let  us  then, 

1.  Consider  who  is  the  great  object  and  author  of  religion. 
It  is  the  blessed  God.  A  being  who  possesses  all  greatness  and 
excellence  in  their  highest  perfection :  who  hatli  all  imaginable 
charms  of  beauty  and  goodness,  to  attract  our  esteem  and  love : 
whose  regard  to  justice,  truth  and  holiness  are  firm  and  inva- 
riable :  and  whose  power  is  equal  to  his  most  tender  compas- 
sions, and  his  most  righteous  resentments.  O  who  can  describe 
the  majesty  and  glory  of  God  !  He  is  incomprehensible,  im- 
mense and  eternal.  Heaven  is  his  throne,  and  the  earth  his 
footstool.  Myriads  of  pure  and  perfect  spirits  are  his  intimate 
friends  and  immediate  attendants.  All  the  powers  of  nature 
are  subject  to  his  controul,  and  all  the  infinitely  numerous  and 
complicated  affairs  of  the  universe,  are  directed  and  governed 
by  one  act  of  his  will.  In  a  word,  when  we  have  attentively 
contemplated  God  in  all  the  works  of  his  hands,  have  given  our 
imagination  leave  to  wander  beyond  the  boundaries  of  sense 
into  the  other  world,  and  have  exerted  the  utmost  powers  of 
reason  and  faith  in  the  search  of  him ;  how  small  a  part  of  his 
ways  do  we  understand  ?  Who  can  by  searching  find  out  God? 
who  can  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfection  a  ?  And  now, 
amidst  the  splendours  of  this  great  and  glorious  Being,  what  amaz- 
ing dignity  and  importance  are  reflected  upon  religion,  which 
hath  the  ONE  eternal  God  for  its  grand  object  ?  A  general  idea 
of  the  beauty,  variety  and  use  of  the  works  of  nature,  gives  a 
pleasing  and  venerable  sanction  to  the  profession  of  the  philo- 
sopher, whose  business  it  is  to  lay  open  these  scenes  of  wonder 
to  our  view.     But  what  infinitely  greater  importance  is  stampt 

a  Job  xi.  7. 


80  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

upon  religion,  by  a  general  idea  of  God  himself:  since  its  pro- 
fessed business  is,  to  lead  us  beyond  these  stupendous  effects 
of  wisdom  and  power,  into  an  acquaintance  with  the  great  Au- 
thor of  them  all? 

2.  From  the  nature  and  value  of  the  soul,  which  is  the  pro- 
per seat  of  its  residence,  we  may  also  farther  infer  the  infinite 
utility  and  importance  of  religion.  How  curiously  is  the  soul 
of  man  framed :  It  is  a  rational  intelligent  spirit,  endowed  with 
the  pov/ers  of  perception,  judgment,  reflection  and  conscious- 
ness ;  with  a  will  to  impel  us  to  action  ;  and  with  numerous  affec- 
tions to  facilitate  our  actions,  and  to  give  them  each  its  pro- 
per denomination  as  either  good  or  bad.  Now,  however  these 
faculties  are  employed,  it  is  evident  from  the  nature  of  the  soul 
itself,  and  from  the  restlessness  and  disappointment  which  attend 
all  worldly  and  sensual  pursuits,  that  the  end  for  which  it  was 
originally  formed  is  not,  cannot  be  attained,  unless  religion  be 
its  object.  How  ignoble  is  the  appearance  which  the  immortal 
spirit  makes,  while  held  under  the  abject  and  cruel  dominion  of 
bodily  appetites  and  affections,  and  while  drudging  on  in  the 
paths  of  ignorance,  sin  and  wretchedness  !  But  what  dignity, 
beauty  and  glory  does  it  assume,  when  it  is  delivered  by  the 
grace  of  God  from  this  sad  captivity,  is  refined  from  the  gross 
impurities  of  sin  and  sense,  is  enlightened  with  divine  know- 
ledge, is  fired  with  truly  noble  and  exalted  prospects,  and  is 
quickened  to  the  most  rational,  spiritual  and  heavenly  pursuits  ! 
From  the  nature,  therefore,  and  capacities  of  the  soul,  of  which 
some  judgment  is  to  be  formed  even  in  this  its  depraved  and 
apostate  state,  the  indispensable  importance  oi  \x\\g.  religion  may 
be  clearly  inferred.     It  is  also  farther  to  be  considered, 

3.  That  religion  extends  its  influence  to  a  future  and  eternal 
world.  It  is  not  a  concern  of  the  present  life  only,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  but  hath  respect  to  an  endless  duration  in  another 
state.  Eternity  ! — We  are  absorbed,  swallowed  up,  lost  in 
the  idea.  If  it  is  a  consideration  which  adds  great  weight  to 
any  worldly  affair,  that  it  is  likely  to  affect  our  happiness  many 
years  to  come  ;  how  weighty,  how  important  a  matter  must 
religion  be  !  When  millions  of  years  have  rolled  around,  the 
immortal  spirit  will  be  but  beginning  in  its  existence.  And 
upon  this  great  question,  whether  we  are  interested  in  Christ, 


THE  IMPOirrANCE  OF  RELIGION".  81' 

are  born  again,  and  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  real  religion, 
will  turn  the  happiness  or  misery  of  our  future  and  everlasting 
condition.  "  The  eternal  salvation  of  one  soul,  says  an  in- 
genious and  pious  v^riter  a,  is  of  greater  importance,  and  big 
with  greater  events,  than  the  temporal  salvation  of  an  whole 
kingdom,  though  it  were  for  the  space  of  ten  tl^ousand  ages; 
because  there  will  come  up  a  point,  an  instant  in  eternity,  when 
that  one  soul  shall  have  existed  as  many  ages  as  all  the  indivi- 
duals of  an  whole  kingdom,  ranged  in  close  succession,  will  in 
the  whole  have  existed  in  ten  thousand  aores.  Therefore  one 
soul  is  capable  of  a  larger  share  of  happiness  or  misery  through- 
out an  endless  duration,  (for  that  will  be  before  it  still)  than  an 
whole  kingdom  is  capable  of  in  ten  thousand  ages."  Jfliat,  O 
what  then,  will  it  pro/it  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  ivhole  worlds  and 
lose  his  own  soul  ?  or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for 
his  soul  b  ? 

But  what  tends  to  fix  upon  the  mind  such  a  reverence  for  the 
one  thing  needful,  as  is  never — never  to  be  obliterated,  is, 

4.  And  lastly,  that  it  owes  its  existence,  with  all  the  comforts 
and  powers  of  it  in  this  life,  and  all  the  joys  and  triumphs  of  it 
in  another,  to  the  humiliation  and  death  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Behold  the  supreme  Majesty  of  heaven  tabernacling  among 
men  c  ;  him  in  whom  divelt  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
bodily  d,  and  who  thought  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  ivith  God, 
humbling  himself,  and  becoming  obedient  to  death,  even  the 
death  of  the  cross  e  :  and  all  this  with  a  view,  to  repair  the  in- 
juries which  sin  had  offered  to  the  divine  government,  to  make 
way  for  the  return  of  the  blessed  Spirit  to  the  temple  he  had 
forsaken,  and  so  again  to  possess  it  of  this  heavenly  blessing  of 
which  I  have  been  discoursing.  Behold,  I  say,  this  unfathom- 
able condescension  of  divine  goodness  on  the  one  hand ;  and  the 
stupendous  expressions  of  majesty  and  glory  attending  it,  in  the 
resurrection  and  ascension  of  Jesus,  on  the  other;  and  then  say 
whether  there  is  not  an  importance  in  religion  which  infinitely 
exceeds,  not  only  all  human  measures,  but  these  by  which  the 
most  exalted  seraph  about  the  throne  of  God,  is  used  to  com- 
pute.    The  groans  of  the  expiring  Saviour,  the  victory  he  ob- 

a  Dr.  Doddridge.  b  Matt.  xvi.  26.  c  John  i.  1 — H. 

d  Col.  ii.  9.  c  Phil.  ii.  6,  8. 

VOL.  I.  F 


82  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION. 

tained  over  the  powers  of  darkness,  the  joys  of  heaven  upon  his 
return  thither,  and  the  descent  of  his  Spirit  to  our  earth;  all 
proclaim  with  a  loud  voice  this  grand,  essential,  and  most  in- 
teresting truth — That  religion  is  the  one  thing  needful.  In 
short,  when  we  have  said  that  it  exists  and  lives  through  the 
death  and  mediation  of  the  Son  of  God,  we  have  said  the  ut- 
most which  can  be  imagined,  by  a  finite  mind,  to  reflect  an  im- 
portance and  solemnity,  as  well  as  a  beauty  and  glory  on  this 
great  concern.  But  I  forbear  to  enlarge  here,  leaving  each 
one,  amidst  this  scene  of  wonders,  to  his  own  contemplations. 

The  subject  however  of  the  necessity  of  rehgion  must  not  be 
dismissed,  without  a  word  or  two  by  way  of  improvement. 

1.  How  astonishing  is  the  infatuation  of  mankind  in  general, 
that  they  concern  themselves  so  little  about  an  affair  of  so  in- 
teresting a  nature  !  The  fact  is  too  true  to  be  disputed.  Look 
where  we  will,  we  see  men  with  the  greatest  eagerness  pursuing 
their  worldly  advantage.  Either  the  riches,  the  honours,  or 
the  pleasures  of  the  present  life,  are  with  them  the  one  thing 
needful.  So  they  consider  these  temporary  and  unsatisfying 
enjoyments,  amidst  all  the  plain  evidence  they  daily  have  be- 
fore their  eyes  of  their  wretched  mistake;  and  even  amidst  the 
convincing  proofs  which  sometimes  strike  their  consciences,  of 
the  truth  and  importance  of  religion.  But  how  sad  a  reflection 
is  this  on  all  their  boasted  wisdom  and  prudence  !  It  hath  ever 
been  a  maxim,  admitted  even  by  those  who  have  the  slenderest 
pretences  to  wisdom,  that  what  is  of  the  greatest  moment  should 
hejirst  and  chiefly  attended  to.  But  how  egregiously  do  these 
men  of  wisdom  contradict  the  very  maxim,  by  which  they  would 
be  thouffht  to  govern  their  conduct !  Religion,  which  is  confess- 
edly  the  most  important  concern,  is  treated  with  the  utmost  in- 
difference and  neglect.  How  justly  then  does  such  a  behaviour 
merit  the  description  of  madness  and  folly,  which  the  Bible 
every  where  gives  it  \ 

And  how  affecting  a  proof  doth  this  furnish  of  the  degeneracy 
of  human  nature  !  Can  it  be  questioned  that  sin  hath  drawn  a 
vail  of  darkness  over  the  minds  of  men,  and  that  it  hath  brought 
a  disease  of  the  most  fatal  tendency  upon  their  hearts  ?  It  is 
impossible,  methinks,  for  any  one  to  sit  down  and  seriously  con- 
sider this  mournful  fact,  without  acknowledging  that  the  whole 


THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  RELIGION.  83 

world  is  apostatized  from  God,  and  sunk  into  guilt  and  misery. 
Convinced  however,  as  the  Christian  is,  of  the  reality  and  im- 
portance of  religion,  it  would  argue  a  strange  kind  of  insensi- 
bility in  him,  were  he  not, 

2.  With  earnestness  and  affection  to  exhort  men  to  a  serious 
attention  to  it.  So  Jesus  and  his  apostles  did,  so  we  are  com- 
manded to  do,  and  while  we  do  it,  have  the  dictates  of  sound 
wisdom  on  our  side,  as  sufficiently  appears  from  what  hath  been 
already  said.  They  who  have  been  made  sensible  of  the  value 
of  their  own  souls,  and  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  those 
great  things  of  which  we  have  been  treating,  cannot  but  feel 
a  concern  for  the  welfare  of  others.  And  how  natural  to  ex- 
press this  concern  for  our  acquaintance,  friends,  and  relations, 
by  our  tears,  expostulations,  and  prayers  ! 

Supposing  it  then  sinners,  only  possible  that  the  things  you 
have  heard  may  be  true ;  how  can  you  acquit  yourselves  of  the 
charge  of  imprudence  and  folly  to  the  last  degree,  while  you 
resolutely  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  those  remonstrances?  What  is  this 
better  than  laying  violent  hands  on  your  own  souls,  and  wilfully 
plunging  yourselves  in  death  and  destruction  ?  He  that  simieth 
against  me,  says  Wisdom,  wrongeth  his  own  soul ;  and  all  they 
that  hate  me,  love  death  a.  O  !  may  you  be  persuaded,  then, 
to  listen  to  the  voice  of  wisdom  !  Compare  the  dictates  of  scrip- 
ture with  those  of  your  own  consciences.  Set  the  interests  of 
this  world  in  the  balance  with  those  of  another.  Reflect  on 
the  miserable  state  you  are  in,  while  at  enmity  with  God  and 
religion.  Retire  into  your  closets,  converse  with  your  own 
hearts,  and  pray  God,  if  peradventure  your  folly  and  disobe- 
dience may  be  forgiven  you.  So  would  we  most  heartily  com- 
mend you  to  his  rich  and  boundless  mercy,  through  Jesus 
Christ,  and  to  the  mighty  influence  of  his  grace  and  Spirit. 
To  conclude, 

3.  What  abundant  cause  have  you  for  joy  and  thankfulness, 
who  are  interested  in  the  one  thing  needful,  and  have  with 
Mary  chosen  the  better  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  away 

from  you  b.     In  proportion  to  the  importance  of  this  great  con- 
cern, so  should  be  the  cheerfulness  of  your  spirits,  and  the  gra- 
titude of  your  hearts.     Give  God  the  praise ;  for  from  him  it 
a  Prov.  viii.  36.  b  Luke  x.  42. 

f2 


84  THT  DTFFTCULTIES 

is  you  derive  this  inestimable  blessing.  Had  he  bestowed  on 
you  a  crown,  and  denied  you  the  one  thing  needful,  you  would 
have  been  miserable. 

And  since  you  possess  that  which  is  most  necessary  and  de- 
sirable, and  with  which  is  connected  the  promise  of  every  thing 
which  infinite  wisdom  sees  fit  for  you,  be  not  careful  and  troubled 
about  the  many  trifling  affairs  and  enjoyments  of  the  present  life. 
They  are  trifling  indeed,  when  compared  with  those  momentous 
concerns  of  which  we  have  been  discoursing.  Let  not,  there- 
fore, an  unbecoming  anxiety  about  them  rufile  your  breasts, 
sadden  your  countenances,  or  disgrace  your  religion.  Having 
sought  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  you  are 
assured  that  all  other  things  shall  be  added  to  you ;  that  God 
will  withhold  no  good  thing  from  you  a ;  and  that  your  heaven- 
ly Father  carethfor  you  b.  Refer,  then,  your  temporal  inte- 
rests to  the  direction  of  a  wise  and  good  Providence :  and 
having  intrusted  your  immortal  spirits  to  the  care  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  rest  satisfied  that  he  will  keep  what  you  hav& 
thus  committed  to  him,  against  the  great  day  c. 


DLSCOURSE  V. 


THE  DIFFICULTIES  ATTENDING  RELIGION. 

Matt.  xvi.  24. — Then  said  Jesus  unto  his  disciples,  If  any 
man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross,  andft)llotv  me. 

X  HAT  there  is  a  reality  in  serious  religion,  and  that  it  is  the 
most  important  concern  of  the  present  life,  surely  no  thoughtful 
person  will  deny.  Yet,  alas  !  sad  experience  sufficiently  proves, 
that  a  general  persuasion  of  these  things  is  ineffectual  to  de- 
termine men  to  the  pursuit  of  it.  The  truth  is,  there  are  cer- 
tain prejudices  against  the  one  thing  needful,  arising  from  the 
«  Psal.  Ixxxiv.  11.  '   b  Luke  xii.  30,  31.  c  2  Tim.  i.  12. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  8$ 

supposed  unsurmountable  difficulties  attending  it,  wliicli  have 
taken  such  deep  root  in  the  human  heart,  that  they  unreason- 
ably overpower  all  transient  convictions  of  its  importance. 

To  trace  these  prejudices  up  to  their  original  source  would 
.be  no  difficult  task;  though  to  enumerate  all  the  immediate 
causes  of  them,  and  to  describe  particularly  the  manner  of  their 
taking  effect,  would  carry  me  too  far  beside  my  present  design. 
It  must,  however,  be  observed  in  general,  that  mankind  are  in 
a  fallen  and  depraved  state,  and  that  the  heart  hath  received  a 
bias  quite  opposite  to  what  it  had  in  the  beginning.  Men  are 
prone  to  vanity  and  sin,  and  averse  to  that  which  is  spiritual 
and  good.  And  this  disaffection  to  religion  operates,  by  dis- 
posing the  mind  to  admit  readily  every  objection  which  is  un- 
favourable to  it,  whether  real  or  only  imaginary.  The  chief 
therefore  of  these  practical  objections  I  propose  to  consider,  to 
set  them  in  their  full  light,  and  give  them  their  due  weight; 
that  we  may  see  how  far  their  usual  influence  upon  the  heart, 
in  the  face  of  all  the  evidence  we  have  of  the  truth  and  import- 
ance of  religion,  is  to  be  justified,  even  upon  the  principles  of 
natural  reason. 

They  are  reducible  to  three  heads — The  restraints  which 
religion  obliges  us  to  lay  upon  our  inclinations  and  passions ; 
we  must  deny  ourselves. — The  afflictions  and  sufferings  in  which 
it  does  or  may  involve  us ;  we  must  take  up  our  cross. — And 
that  perfection  of  character  it  seems  to  enjoin ;  we  mvist  follow 
Christ.  All  this  our  Saviour  tells  us  is  necessary  to  our  be- 
coming his  disciples.  The  explanation,  therefore,  of  these  sa- 
cred injunctions,  will  give  me  an  opportunity  of  shewing,  that" 
some  of  those  difficulties  which  are  apt  to  startle  the  mind  at 
the  first  appearance  of  religion,  are  entirely  groundless ;  and 
that  others,  though  they  may  be  real  difficulties  in  the  appre- 
hension of  depraved  nature,  yet  are  most  fit  and  reasonable  to 
be  complied  with. 

In  the  mean  while  it  may  throw  some  light  upon  the  text,  to 
advert  a  moment  to  the  occasion  of  our  Lord's  thus  addressing 
his  disciples.  He  had  been  foretelling  his  approaching  suf- 
ferings. Upon  which  Peter,  urged  by  the  violence  of  his  na- 
tural passions,  and  not  considering  the  indispensable  importance 
©f  our  Saviour's  death,  began  to  rebuke  him,  saying,  Be  it  far 


S6  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

from  thee^  Lord .-  this  shall  not  be  unto  thee.  But  Jesus  turn- 
ed, and  witli  unusual  severity  said  unto  Peter,  Get  thee  behind 
me  Satan,  thou  actest  the  part  of  a  devil  and  an  adversary  in- 
stead of  a  friend,  thou  art  an  offence  to  me  ;  for  it  should  seem 
by  this  thy  language,  that  thou  savourest  not  the  things  which 
be  of  God,  but  those  which  be  of  men  ci;  that  thou  hast  lost 
sight  of  the  great  objects  of  my  mission,  the  glory  of  God  and 
the  salvation  of  men,  and  art  fondly  dreaming,  like  the  rest  of 
the  world,  of  temporal  honours  and  pleasures.  Then  said  he  to 
his  disciples,  in  order  to  guard  them  against  this  carnal  temper, 
and  to  apprise  them  of  what  would  be  likely  to  befal  them,  If 
any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up 
his  cross,  and  follow  me.  Nor  are  these  injunctions  to  be  limit- 
ed to  the  immediate  disciples  of  Christ :  the  occasion  of  the 
words,  and  the  principles  upon  which  you  see  he  reasons,  plainly 
shew  that  they  are  of  more  general  use. 

It  Let  him  deny  himself. — "  Strange !"  say  you,  "  what 
jnore  dear  to  a  man  than  himself?  and  what  more  contrary  to 
the  first  prirKiiples,  dictates,  and  feelings  of  human  nature,  than 
for  men  to  deny,  contradict,  and  oppose  themselves  ?"  But  surely 
our  Lord  can  never  mean  by  this  precept, 

1.  That  we  are  to  be  our  own  enemies,  and  to  act  in  opposi- 
tion to  our  own  real  interests.  This  is  a  notion  utterly  repug- 
nant to  every  sound  dictate  of  nature  and  reason.  Self-love  is 
a  principle  which  God  hath  himself  implanted  in  our  breasts, 
and  it  is  so  deeply  rooted  there,  not  to  say  how  innocent  and 
useful  it  is  when  held  under  proper  restraints,  that  it  cannot  be 
eradicated  without  the  dissolution  of  our  very  existence.  Does 
our  Lord,  then,  by  requiring  us  to  deny  ourselves,  make  it  ne- 
cessary for  us  to  extinguish  this  first  principle  of  nature  ?  Does 
he  solemnly  enjoin  that  upon  us,  which  is  absolutely  impossible 
to  be  complied  with  ? — True,  indeed,  the  gospel  demands  our 
obedience  upon  motives  of  gratitude.  But  gratitude  could 
have  no  place  in  our  hearts,  if  a  regard  to  our  own  interest  were 
totally  suppressed.  For  gratitude  supposes  a  sense  of  favours 
received,  and  that  a  sensibility  to  our  own  good.  If  the  gospel, 
therefore,  were  to  silence  this  first  dictate  of  nature,  it  would 

«  Ver.  22,  23. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  87 

contradict  itself,  and  in  effect  forbid  us  to  be  influenced  by  this 
other  motive  of  gratitude. 

But  so  far  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that  it  approves  of 
self-love,  cherishes  it,  reasons  from  it.  Need  you  be  told  with 
what  warmth  our  Saviour  and  his  apostles  every  where  address 
the  hopes  and  fears  of  men,  passions  which  are  evidently  found- 
ed in  this  original  principle  ?  Flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  a. 
Fear  him  who  is  able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  hell  b. 
And  a  verse  or  two  after  the  text.  What  is  a  man  profited  if  he 
shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soid  ?  Language 
this  which  manifestly  supposes  that  we  may,  that  we  ought  to 
love  ourselves,  that  is,  be  concerned,  passionately  concerned  for 
our  real,  our  highest,  our  everlasting  happiness. 

But  you  will  say,  "  Though  self-love,  in  this  refined  sense 
of  it,  as  respecting  our  well-being  hereafter,  be  allowable ;  yet 
by  this  command  Christ  would  inculcate, 

2.  "  A  very  unnatural  kind  of  indifference  to  our  present 
interests.  Let  him  deny  himself;  that  is,  say  you,  Let  him 
consider  the  appetites  and  passions  of  nature  as  unlawful,  and 
oppose  them  as  absolute  evils ;  let  him  be  totally  dead  to  the 
world,  and  rather  reject  than  pursue  any  of  its  emoluments  or 
pleasures."  But  this  surely  can  never  be  the  sense  of  the  text. 
For  if  it  were,  it  would  take  that  for  granted,  which  is  highly 
dishonourable  to  God,  and  most  unreasonable  in  itself.  For 
how  is  it  imaginable  that  God  would  have  us  account  the  proper 
gratification  of  those  appetites  and  passions,  which  he  hath  im- 
planted in  us,  and  which  are  not  to  be  eradicated  while  we  con- 
tinue here,  criminal?  All  those  precepts,  therefore,  which,  like 
that  in  our  text,  require  us  to  mortify  our  members  ichich  are 
on  the  earth  c,  to  crucify  the  flesh  with  the  affections  and  lusts  d, 
to  keep  under  our  bodies,  and  bring  them  into  subjection  e,  and 
to  be  willing  to  part  ivith  all  we  have,  yea  our  very  lives,  for 
Christ's  sakef;  are  to  be  understood  with  certain  limitations. 
They  can  never  mean  to  lay  the  comforts  and  concerns  of  the 
present  life  under  an  absolute  and  perpetual  interdict.  They 
can  never  mean  to  justify  an  indolent  neglect  of  the  duties  of 
our  several  stations,  an  unnatural  contempt  of  innocent  enjoy- 

a  Matt.  iii.  7.  b  Matt.  x.  28.  c  Col.  iii.  3. 

rfGal.  V.  21.  e  1  Cor.  ix.  27.  /Matt.  xvi.  25. 


88  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

meats,  or  a  wanton  sacrifice  of  our  lives  upon  the  most  trifling 
occasions. 

On  the  contrary,  the  Christian  doctrine  adopts  those  very 
principles  and  maxims  respecting  these  matters  which  nature 
itself  dictates.  For  while  it  teaches  that  no  man  ever  hated 
his  ownjlesh  «,  and  that  we  ought  to  do  ourselves  no  harm  ft, 
it  persuades  us  to  such  a  temper  and  deportment  as  manifestly 
tend  to  promote  our  outward  happiness  and  prosperity.  It  re- 
commends industry,  cheerfulness,  affability,  sympathy  and  love  c. 
So  far  is  it  from  imbittering  the  comforts  of  life,  or  rendering 
them  insipid  and  tasteless,  that  it  adds  a  new  flavour  to  them. 
So  far  is  it  from  dragging  us  out  of  society,  and  shutting  us 
up  in  indolent  retirement,  that  it  puts  us  upon  improving  our 
circumstances,  maintaining  a  friendly  commerce  with  our  fellow- 
creatures,  and  doing  them  all  the  good  which  lies  in  our  power. 
And  so  far  is  it  from  hardening  the  hearts  of  men  against 
their  own  or  the  miseries  of  others,  that  it  makes  them  suscep- 
tible of  the  tenderest  emotions,  and  indeed  of  every  impression 
which  is  beneficial  to  society. — Nor  by  requiring  us  to  deny 
ourselves  does  our  Lord  mean, 

3.  To  impose  upon  us  any  austerities,  penances,  or  mortifi- 
cations, which  are  purely  arbitrary,  and  which  tend  not  to 
answer  some  moral  or  spiritual  purpose.  He  might  indeed  de- 
mand of  us  certain  difficult  and  painful  services,  which  should 
have  no  other  intent  than  to  serve  as  tests  of  our  subjection  to 
his  authority.  Yet  even  this  he  hath  not  done.  I  am  aware 
that  the  two  ordinances  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper,  are 
considered  by  some  purely  in  this  light.  But  it  were  easy  to 
shew,  that  however  they  are  properly  enough  on  some  accounts 
styled  positive  institutions,  yet  there  is  the  truest  reason  in 
them,  and  they  are  evidently  adapted  to  promote  our  edification 
and  comfort.  And  though  this  precept  of  denying  ourselves 
hath  respect,  as  will  hereafter  appear,  to  our  foregoing,  under 
certain  circumstances,  our  bodily  ease  and  worldly  interest;  yet 
these  instances  of  self-denial  are  not  imposed  upon  us  merely  for 
their  own  sake,  but  because  the  glory    of  God,  the  good  of 

a  Eph.  V.  29.  b  Acts  xvi.  28. 

c  Rom.  xii.  11.  1  Thess.  v.  16.  1  Fet.  iu.  8.  Col.  iii.  12,  13. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  89 

Others,  and  our  own  advantage  upon  the  whole,  make  them  fit 
and  necessary. 

It  is  not  therefore  purely  with  a  view  to  thwart  and  oppose 
our  natural  inclinations,  and  to  give  us  pain,  and  make  us  un- 
happy, that  we  are  required  in  any  instance  whatever  to  deny 
ourselves.  There  are  indeed  those  who  pride  themselves  in  the 
rigorous  observance  of  popish  severities,  under  a  notion  of  com- 
plying with  the  injunction  in  the  text ;  though  rather,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  with  a  secret  expectation  of  commuting  with  heaven 
for  other  criminal  indulgences,  or  however  of  getting  a  charac- 
ter for  a  kind  of  religious  heroism.  But  their  conduct  is  so  far 
from  being  acceptable  to  God,  that  it  is  highly  displeasing  to 
him.  And  the  Scriptures  have  not  failed  to  condemn  all  this 
as  a  vain  shew  of  wisdom  in  will-worship,  and  humility,  and 
neglecting  the  body  a. — Thus,  you  see,  by  denying  ourselves,  is 
not  meant  indifference  to  our  interests  in  general;  or  a  total  dis- 
regard to  our  worldly  interests  in  particular;  or  a  subjection  to 
any  kind  of  voluntary  mortifications  or  penances,  merely  for 
their  own  sake. 

In  what  sense  then  is  our  Lord  to  be  understood  ?  He  means 
surely  such  a  self-denial,  and  such  only,  as  is  in  itself,  though 
very  painful,  yet  most  reasonable ;  and  though  very  contrary  to 
our  depraved  nature,  yet  upon  the  whole  for  our  real  advantage. 
Now  here  we  must  distinguish  between  matters  which  are  ab- 
solutely, and  in  their  own  nature,  unlawful,  and  those  which  be- 
come so  by  occasion  only ;  in  regard  of  each  of  which  we  are  to 
deny  ourselves. 

I.  It  is  unquestionably  our  duty  to  deny  ourselves  in  every 
instance  which  is  absolutely  criminal.  Human  nature  is  miser- 
ably corrupted  and  depraved.  Whence  it  happens  that  we  feel 
innumerable  inclinations  and  propensities  in  our  breasts,  which 
the  least  reflection  must  convince  us  are  unreasonable,  sinful 
and  injurious.  To  describe  them  particularly  would  be  an  end- 
less task,  as  they  are  almost  infinitely  diversified,  by  the  dif- 
ferent circumstances  and  objects  which  excite,  inflame  and  ag- 
gravate them.  I  might  here  tell  you  of  pride,  avarice,  lust, 
envy,  malevolence,  anger,  revenge,  and  the  like ;  all  which  the 
apostle  describes   by  the  characters    of  the  old  man  and  his 

a  Col.  ii.  23. 


90  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

deeds  a,  the  body  of  sin  6,  and  thejlesh,  with  its  affections  and 
lusts  c. 

Now,  these,  be  they  what  they  may,  must  be  denied.  The 
very  first  risings  of  them  must  be  checked  and  suppressed ;  all 
incitements  to  the  gratification  of  them  must  be  opposed ;  and 
all  means  and  opportunities  which  offer  to  that  purpose  must  be 
avoided.  And  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  thus  denying  them, 
especially  if  they  are  obstinate  and  impetuous,  and  if  our  temp- 
tations to  the  indulgence  of  them  are  numerous  and  powerful, 
will  be  very  difficult  and  painful  work.  Hence  it  is  described  in 
scripture  by  the  expressive  figures  of  mortijication  and  cruci- 
Jixion,  the  plucking  out  the  right  eye,  and  cutting  off'  the  right 
hand.  And  hence  the  Christian  life,  the  main  duties  of  which 
consist  in  such  self-denial,  is  compared  to  a  warfare.  Great 
vigilance,  resolution  and  labour  are  necessary.  We  must  be 
ever  upon  our  guard  against  the  undue  influence  of  external  ob- 
jects, ever  attentive  to  the  exercises  of  our  own  minds,  and  ever 
vigorous  in  our  opposition  to  the  first  motions  or  tendencies  to 
sin.  In  the  attempting  all  which,  there  will  be  many  hard 
struggles  and  painful  conflicts,  the  heart  will  be  agitated  by  va- 
rious passions,  and  the  effect  in  some  instances  will  be  sad  dis- 
appointment, and  in  others  the  most  pleasing  and  happy  success. 

The  reasonableness  of  this  clearly  appears,  and  the  motives 
the  gospel  suggests  to  excite  us  to  it,  are  very  numerous  and 
animating.  But  I  shall  wave  the  consideration  hereof  at  present, 
as  this  will  be  the  subject  of  the  next  discourse.     Again, 

2.  The  duty  of  self-denial  hath  respect  to  matters  which  are 
in  themselves  innocent  and  lawful,  but  which  become  otherwise 
by  occasion.  And  such  are  all  the  enjoyments,  concerns  and 
connections  of  life,  yea  life  itself.  There  is  nothing  desirable 
of  an  outward  or  worldly  kind,  but  we  must  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances be  willing  to  part  with.  Be  they  what  they  may  we 
must  renounce  them,  when  they  come  into  competition  with  the 
honour  of  God  and  religion,  with  the  everlasting  welfare  of  our 
fellow-creatures,  and  with  our  own  highest  and  noblest  interests. 
It  is  criminal  in  either  of  these  cases,  not  to  deny  ourselves  of 
what  we  might  otherwise  very  lawfully  and  properly  enjoy.  But 
of  this  we  shall  discourse  more  largely  hereafter. 

a  Col.  iii.  9.  6  Rom.  vi.  6.  c  Gal.  v.  2i. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  91 

Hitherto  we  have  treated  the  subject  oi self-detiial  in  general 
only.  Let  us  now  descend  to  particulars.  What  then  are 
those  instances  of  self-denial  which  are  especially  required  of  us, 
in  order  to  our  becoming  the  disciples  of  Christ  ?  I  answer :  as 
pride  and  pleasure  are  the  prevailing  passions  of  human  nature, 
and  the  main  obstructions  to  religion ;  so  to  these  two  may  be 
referred  all  the  various  expressions  of  this  duty,  which  our  Sa- 
viour would  inculcate. 

First,  As  to  pride.  The  opposition  which  arises  from  hence 
to  religion  in  general,  and  to  the  doctrine  and  service  of  Christ 
in  particular,  cannot  but  strike  every  considerate  observer. 
There  is, 

1.  A  vain  conceit  of  their  own  reason,  which,  if  men  will  fear 
God,  and  be  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  they  must  deny  and  subdue. 
I  mean  not  by  this  to  reflect  in  the  least  on  reason  itself.  It  is 
a  faculty  with  which  God  hath  graciously  endowed  us,  and  which 
when  duly  exercised,  is  of  the  highest  importance  in  matters  of 
religion  as  well  as  those  of  a  civil  nature.  But  my  meaning  is 
to  condemn  what  is  falsely  so  called,  and  to  expose  that  vain  and 
confident  opinion  of  their  own  understanding  and  judgment, 
which  hurries  too  many  into  the  most  fatal  and  dangerous  mis- 
takes a.  The  weakness  and  imperfection  of  the  human  mind  no 
thoughtful  person  will  deny.  Nor  will  he  deny  that  men  are 
prone,  in  their  reasonings  on  matters  of  religion  especially,  to 
be  swayed  and  biassed  by  the  corrupt  passions  and  prejudices  of 
their  hearts.  Whence  it  happens  that  in  many  instances  they 
reason  very  falsely ;  and  in  others,  though  they  reason  truly  from 
certain  principlos,  yet  those  principles  being  false,  they  err  in 
their  conclusions. 


fl  Dr.  Youngf,  speaking  of  the  enemies  of  Christianity,  who,  while  they  idolize 
reason,  do  in  eflfect  vilify  it,  thus  describes  that  kind  of  arrogance  it  is  here 
lueant  to  condemn : 

While  love  of  truth  through  all  their  camp  resounds, 

They  draw  pride's  curtain  o'er  the  noon-tide  ray, 

Spike  up  their  inch  of  reason,  on  the  point 

Of  philosophic  wit,  call'd  argument. 

And  then  exulting  in  their  taper,  cry, 

"  Behold  the  sun  ;"  and  Indian-like  adore. 

Night  Thoughts. 


02  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

Now  tlie  divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures  being  admitted, 
(wliich  it  surely  well  may,  the  evidence  is  so  clear  and  incon- 
testible)  what  is  therein  plainly  declared  should  be  meekly  re- 
ceived, though  we  may  be  at  a  loss  to  clear  up  some  difficulties 
attending  it.  Absolute  contradictions  God  cannot  require  us  to 
believe,  because  in  that  case  he  would  require  us  to  believe  a 
falsehood,  it  being  impossible  that  two  propositions,  which  di- 
rectly contradict  each  other,  should  be  both  true.  But  there 
are  truths  he  may  require  us  to  believe,  which  though  they  are 
not  contradictory,  we  may  be  at  a  loss  fully  to  explain  and  re- 
concile. These  therefore  we  are  to  receive  upon  the  divine 
testimony ;  and  upon  the  whole  it  is  most  reasonable  we  should 
do  so,  however  unwilling  we  may  be  through  prejudice  to  yield 
our  assent  a. 

Here  then  is  one  instance  of  self-denial,  the  meekly  submit- 
ting to  divine  instruction,  and  not  expecting  more  evidence 
upon  a  matter,  than  the  nature  of  the  thing  will  admit,  or  than 
God  chooses  to  give.  Nothing  can  be  more  fit  and  reasonable 
than  this :  yet  so  conceited  are  we  of  our  own  vmderstanding, 
that  it  is  with  the  utmost  difficulty  we  are  brought  to  acknow- 
ledge our  ignorance,  fallibility,  and  weakness.  And  such  a 
false  glare  does  prejudice  many  times  cast  upon  the  truth,  that 
we  had  need  use  the  greatest  force  with  our  passions,  to  prevent 
our  being  thereby  deceived  and  misled.  Hence  our  Lord  makes 
a  point  of  it  with  his  disciples,  that  they  he  converted  and  become 
as  little  children  h,  that  is,  that  they  be  of  a  teachable  disposi- 

a  Dr.  Barrow,  speaking  of  faith,  says — "  There  can  hardly  be  any  greater 
instance  of  respect  and  love  toward  any  person,  than  a  ready  yielding  of  assent 
to  his  words,  when  he  doth  aver  things  to  our  conceit  absurd  or  incredible; 
than  resting  on  "his  promise  when  he  seemeth  to  offer  things  impossible,  or 
strangely  difficult ;  than  embracing  his  advice  when  he  recommendeth  things 
very  cross  to  our  interest,  humour  iind  pleasure  ;  whence  Abraham's  faith,"  &c. 
He  afterwards  adds — "  and  many  things  doth  the  Christian  doctrine  pro- 
pose, apt  to  try  such  friendship;  many  a  hard  saying  doth  it  assert,  which  a 
profane  mind  can  hardly  swallow  or  digest:  there  is  indeed  scarce  any  article 
of  faith  at  M'hii-li  ^ve  shall  not  boggle  ;  any  matter  of  duty  which  we  shall  not 
start  at,  any  promise  of  God  whereat  we  shall  not  stagger,  if  we  be  not  seasoned 
witli  favourable  apprehensions  and  inclinations  towards  him  who  recommendeth 
them  to  us,  as  endued  with  those  attributes  which  secure  their  credibility." 
Baurow  on  the  Ap.  CaEED,  Sei-.  ii.  p.  26.fol.  edit, 
b  Matt,  xviii.  3. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  93 

tion,  readily  acknowledging  that  they  comparatively  know  no- 
thing. And  hence  the  apostle  speaks  of  the  efficacy  of  his 
preaching  through  God,  to  the  casting  down  imagmations,  or 
reasonings  a,  and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against 
the  knoivledge  of  God  b.     Another  expression  o^  self-denial  is, 

2.  The  submitting  cordially  to  that  method  of  salvation  which 
the  gospel  proposes.  A  scheme  it  is,  wherein  the  wisdom, 
righteousness,  and  goodness  of  God  are  most  amazingly  dis- 
played. God  is  recoficiling  sinners  to  himself  hy  the  death  of 
his  Son,  not  imputing  their  trespasses  to  them  c.  But  such  is 
the  pride  of  the  human  heart,  that  the  grace  expressed  in  this 
scheme  becomes  one  principal  prejudice  with  many  against  it. 
They  vainly  presume  that  they  are  innocent,  virtuous,  and  good, 
or  to  use  our  Saviour's  words  to  the  Laodiceans,  that  they  are 
rich  and  in  need  of  nothing  d :  and  so,  not  willing  to  renounce 
their  own  imaginary  merit  and  righteousness  in  the  sight  of 
God,  they  treat  the  proposals  of  his  mercy  with  indifterence 
and  neglect.  Such  was  the  temper  and  conduct  of  the  Jews, 
of  whom  the  apostle  witnesseth,  that  being  ignorant  of  God's 
righteousness,  and  going  about  to  establish  their  own  righteous- 
ness,  they  submitted  7wt  themselves  to  the  righteousness  of  God  e. 
And  such  was  also  the  temper  of  many  among  the  wise  and 
learned  Greeks,  to  whom  the  preaching  of  the  c?'oss  was  foolish- 
ness f  Now  if  we  will  be  the  disciples  of  Christ,  self  must  in 
this  instance,  as  well  as  the  former,  be  denied.  We  must 
come,  guilty,  wretched,  and  helpless  as  we  are,  and  receive 
eternal  life  as  the  gift  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ  alone. 
Again, 

3.  We  must  deny  ourselves,  in  respect  of  that  vain  confidence 
we  are  apt  to  place  in  our  own  strength.  Sclf-sufficience  is  a 
prevailing  evil.  For  want  of  a  thorough  knowledge  of  their 
hearts,  and  through  a  strange  propensity  to  flattery  and  self- 
deceit,  men  hastily  judge  themselves  equal  to  almost  every  duty 
which  is  required  of  them,  and  every  temptation  and  affliction 
which  may  happen  to  them.  The  effect  of  which  is  a  criminal 
disregard  to  the  influence  of  divine  providence  and  grace,  and 
such  a  carelessness  of  temper  as  almost  unavoidably  betrays 

a  Aayiiffii;.  b  2  Cor.  X.  5.  c  2  Cor.  v.  19. 

d  Rbv.  iii.  17.  e  Rom.  x.  3.  / 1  Cor.  i.  18. 


94  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

them  into  the  most  dangerous  mistakes.  This  confidence  there- 
fore must  be  renounced ;  and,  while  we  exert  all  the  powers  of 
the  soul  in  the  service  of  our  divine  Master,  we  must  rely  on 
his  grace  for  success,  and  having  succeeded,  must  give  him  the 
glory.  It  were  endless  to  lead  you  into  all  the  labyrinths  of 
pride  there  are  in  the  human  heart — endless  to  tell  you  what 
vanity,  what  self-complacency,  what  superior  ideas  of  our  at- 
tainments, gifts  and  graces,  we  too  often  feel  within.  Where- 
fore, in  the  denying,  restraining  and  subduing  them,  consists 
much  of  the  experience  and  practice  of  religion.  It  is  no  in- 
considerable expression  of  this  duty,  when  we  are  in  the  height 
of  spiritual  prosperity,  to  abhor  ourselves,  and  repent  in  dust 
and  ashes ;  when  we  have  enjoyed  communion  with  God,  and 
the  refined  pleasures  which  result  from  a  sense  of  his  favour, 
to  blush  at  our  own  vileness  and  unworthiness ;  and  when  we 
have  gained  some  eminent  victory  in  our  Christian  warfare, 
with  all  humility  to  ascribe  the  honours  of  it,  not  to  ourselves, 
but  to  the  power  and  grace  of  Christ. — In  such  instances  as 
these,  which  do  immediately  affect  the  pride  and  vanity  of  the 
human  heart,  must  self  he  denied. 

Let  us  now  consider  this  duty  in  reference, 

Secondly,  'Yo  pleasure.  By  pleasure  I  mean  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  appetites  of  animal  nature,  and  of  all  those  passions 
which  have  worldly  good  for  their  object.  Various  are  the  en- 
joyments, to  which  mankind  feel  a  strong  and  unconquerable 
propensity ;  such  as  health,  ease,  freedom,  peace,  wealth,  ho- 
nour, and  the  pleasures  resulting  from  family  and  social  con- 
nections, and  from  intellectual  improvements.  Nor  is  a  propen- 
sity to  them  unlawful;  for  they  are  the  gifts  of  indulgent  pro- 
vidence, and  the  proper  use  of  them  tends  to  our  comfort  and 
happiness.  Yet  there  are  two  cases  wherein  we  are  to  deny  our- 
selves o^'  even  these  comforts,  that  is,  to  forego  the  possession  or 
enjoyment  of  them. — The  one  is  more  general,  when  our  desire 
of  them  exceeds  due  bounds,  and  is  in  danger  of  destroying,  or 
however,  weakening  and  enfeebling  the  nobler  affections  and 
principles  of  the  renewed  mind. — And  the  other  more  particular, 
when  the  gratification  of  this  or  the  other  appetite  or  passion, 
clashes  with  our  duty,  and  prevents  or  disturbs  us  in  the  faith- 
ful and  regular  discharge  of  it. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  95 

It  is  a  fact  beyond  all  dispute,  that  we  are  apt  to  exceed  in  our 
estimation  of  worldly  things,  and  our  fondness  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  them ;  which  is  the  effect,  partly  of  the  corruption  of 
human  nature,  and  partly  of  our  close  and  intimate  connection 
with  sensible  objects.  And  this  excess  of  the  passions  very 
essentially  injures  us,  not  only  by  disturbing  the  composure  of 
the  mind,  engrossing  too  much  of  our  time,  and  hurrying  us 
into  unreasonable  and  dangerous  pursuits  ;  but  by  palling  our 
appetite,  and  producing  a  very  hurtful  and  criminal  indifference 
to  refined  and  spiritual  enjoyments.  On  these  accounts,  the 
Christian  very  justly  considers  the  world  as  his  enem)',  and 
complains  frequently,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  of  the  en- 
croachments it  makes  on  his  best  interests.  Whence  it  follows, 
that  in  order  to  preserve  a  balance  in  his  heart,  I  should  rather 
say,  in  order  to  secure  the  weight  on  the  side  of  the  infinitely 
important  concerns  of  God  and  religion,  it  is  necessary  he 
should  de7iy  himse/j  OQcasionaWy,  of  a  great  many  comforts  and 
indulgences,  he  might  otherwise  lawfully  enjoy.  Nor  will  he 
be  at  any  great  loss  to  determine  when  this  should  be  done,  if  he 
attentively  regards  the  present  state  of  his  mind.  Do  we  feel, 
which  is  most  commonly  the  case,  too  strong  a  bent  of  the  heart 
and  affections  to  the  world?  That  bent  is  no  otherwise  to  be 
counteracted  and  subdued,  with  the  help  of  divine  grace,  than 
by  a  resolute  denial  of  our  impetuous  desires  in  this  or  the  other 
instance  which  offers.     So  farther. 

When  the  gratification  of  our  appetites  and  passions  is  in  any 
particular  instance  incompatible  with  some  duty,  whether  civil 
or  religious,  which  immediately  demands  our  attention,  it  is 
without  doubt  to  be  denied.  I  might  put  many  cases  of  this 
sort,  which  very  frequently  occur.  They  are,  however,  all  re- 
ducible to  these  general  heads — the  regular  discharge  of  the  du- 
ties of  religious  worship — the  exerting  ourselves,  on  some  spe- 
cial and  extraordinary  occasions,  for  the  advancement  of  the 
kingdom  and  interest  of  Christ — the  bearing  a  public  testimony 
to  the  truths  of  religion — the  shewing  proper  offices  of  kind- 
ness to  our  fellow-creatures  and  fellow-Christians — and,  as  hath 
been  already  hinted,  the  keeping  up  the  discipline  of  the 
heart,  and  cultivating  the  several  Christian  graces.  It  is  easy 
to  see,  that  in  innumerable  instances  of  this  sort,  if  we  nill  ac- 


96  THE  BIFFICULTIES 

quit  ourselves  as  becometh  men,  much  more  the  disciples  of  Je- 
sus, we  must  violently  thwart  and  oppose  our  natural  inclina- 
tions and  propensities,  must  rouse  ourselves  out  of  a  supine, 
inactive,  slothful  state,  must  sacrifice  many  desirable  enjoyments 
of  an  outward  kind,  nay,  be  content  to  endure  many  pains,  sor- 
rows and  disappointments,  which  for  their  own  sake,  we  cannot 
but  wish  to  escape,  yea  even  death  itself.  In  this  sense  our 
Lord  is  to  be  understood,  when  he  speaks  of  our  forsaking 
houses,  brethren,  sisters,  father,  mother,  icife,  children,  and 
lands  for  his  sake  a.  But  the  consideration  of  suffering  falls 
more  properly  under  the  next  head  of  discourse. 

Thus  Iiave  we  seen  wherein  the  duty  oi  self-denial  consists, 
and  what  are  the  principal  expressions  of  it,  in  reference  topride 
and  pleasure,  the  two  prevailing  passions  of  human  nature. 

PART  II. 

We  come  now  to  the  second  branch  of  duty,  our  Saviour  re- 
quires of  the  man  who  will  be  his  disciple  : 

II.  Let  him  take  up  his  cross.  By  the  cross  is  meant  per- 
secution chiefly ;  but  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  extend  the  idea  to 
all  tliat  anxiety  and  trouble,  in  which  the  experience  and  pro- 
fession of  religion  are  commonly  supposed  to  involve  the  Chris- 
tian. Now,  before  we  come  to  enumerate  these  afflictions,  and 
to  shew  how  they  ought  to  be  endured,  it  will  be  necessary,  in 
order  to  remove  all  groundless  prejudices  against  the  service  of 
Christ  on  this  account,  to  enquire  how  far  they  are,  and  how 
far  they  are  not,  to  be  set  down  to  the  account  of  religion.  The 
fact  then  is  admitted,  that  he  who  will  become  a  disciple  of 
Christ,  must  take  up  his  cross.     But  it  is  to  be  remembered, 

I.  In  regard  of  the  sorrows  of  the  mind  ■  that  be  they  what 
they  may,  they  are  not,  properly  speaking,  the  offspring  of  reli- 
gion, but  of  those  disordered  faculties  of  the  mind,  and  of  those 
depraved  affections  of  the  heart,  which  it  is  the  kind  office  of 
the  grace  of  God  to  rectify  and  cure.  They  take  their  rise 
either  from  natural  gloominess  of  constitution,  or  an  occasional 
depression  of  the  animal  spirits,  or  mistaken  apprehensions  of 
divine  truths,  or  a  wrong  interpretation  of  particular  providences, 
or  a  doubtfulness  of  our  interest  in  the  favour  of  God,  or  strug- 
a  jMatt.  xix.  29. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  97 

tries  with  corrupt  passions,  or  the  temptations  of  Satan,  or  in  a 
word,  a  suspension  for  wise  ends,  of  those  divine  comforts  which 
were  formerly  enjoyed.  These  are  the  true  sources  of  all  that 
anxiety,  perturbation  and  distress,  which  sometimes  spread  dark- 
ness over  our  countenances,  and  give  the  most  sorrowful  accents 
to  o«r  prayers. 

Our  unhappiness  therefore  is  owing  to  frailty  and  sin :  nor 
is  religion  any  otherwise  accessory  to  it,  than  as  with  a  divine 
influence  it  brings  us  to  our  senses,  and  makes  us  capable  of 
knowing  and  feeling  what  without  it  would  prove  our  ruin.  And 
should  it  on  this  account  be  censured  ?  It  would  surely  argue 
great  perverseness,  to  impute  the  pains  a  sick  friend  endures,  to 
his  medicines  instead  of  his  disease.  Or  supposing  his  medicines 
were  the  occasions  of  some  temporary  uneasiness  in  the  course 
of  their  operation,  it  would  be  no  less  folly  to  find  fault  with 
them  on  that  account ;  since  this  very  circumstance  would  afford 
a  promising  symptom  of  their  success.  In  like  manner,  how 
strange  is  it  that  religion  should  stand  charged  with  all  those 
miseries,  which  are  the  natural  product  of  the  disease  itself  it  is 
intended  to  cure  ;  or  that  men  should  be  prejudiced  against  it, 
on  account  of  the  painfulness  of  its  operation,  when  they  cannot 
but  see,  that  this  is  rather  the  effect  of  the  opposition  it  meets 
with  from  irregular  passions,  than  of  its  own  supposed  unpleasant 
and  irksome  nature  ?  To  this  objection  therefore  it  may  be  an- 
swered, in  much  the  same  words  the  apostle  uses  when  speaking 
of  the  law  of  God :  Is  that  which  is  good,  made  death  unto  me  ? 
Godforhid.  But  sin,  that  it  might  appear  sin,  norking  death 
in  me  hy  that  which  is  good  a.  Nay,  on  the  contrary,  it  may 
be  truly  affirmed,  that  its  influence  is  most  kind  and  salutary. 
Nor  is  religion, 

2.  The  natural  and  necessary  source  of  outward  troid)les. 
That  good  men  meet  with  their  disappointments  and  sorrows  is 
not  to  be  questioned.  Nay  it  may,  and  often  does  so  happen, 
that  a  greater  proportion  of  them  falls  to  their  share  than  to 
others.  But  it  is  a  false  and  injurious  representation  of  reli- 
gion, that  it  tends,  in  its  own  nature,  to  procure  outward  pain 
and  suffering.  The  reverse  is  the  case.  They  therefore  re- 
flect highly  on  the  blessed  God,  who  affect  to  speak  of  him,  as 

a  Rom.  vii.  13. 
VOL.  I..  G 


98  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

if  he  were  fond  of  afflicting  those  who  most  nearly  resemble  him ; 
and,  as  if  he  took  pleasure  in  such  unnatural  offerings  of  pen- 
nance  and  severity,  as  Romanists  are  forward  to  present  him. 
No ;  the  troubles  of  the  present  life  are  all  of  them  the  effects 
of  sin :  and  if  Providence  convert  these  natural  evils  into  bless- 
ings, which  is  the  case  with  respect  to  those  who  love  Godj  it 
is  surely  no  just  prejudice  against  the  service  of  Christ,  that  his 
disciples  endure  more  of  them  than  others. 

And  then,  as  to  persecution^  though  it  be  admitted  that  they 
who  will  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus,  must  suffer  reproach  and 
^buse;  it  is  however  to  be  remembered,  that  this  happens 
through  the  malice  of  Satan,  and  the  malevolence  of  wicked 
men.  And  will  any  one  say,  that  it  does,  in  the  least,  detract 
from  the  native  excellency  of  religion,  that  apostate  spirits  are 
the  avowed  enemies  of  it  ?  Or  is  it  reasonable  to  expect  that 
God  should  continually  work  miracles,  to  rescue  his  favourites 
from  those  evils,  which  may  nevertheless  be  over-ruled  for  their 
good,  even  in  this  life,  and  shall  most  certainly  be  rewarded 
with  infinite  joys  and  triumphs  in  another  ?  And  after  all,  per- 
secution, in  the  fullest  and  most  painful  sense  of  the  expression, 
falls  not  to  the  share  of  every  Christian.  We  have  no  reason 
tlierefore  to  be  offended  at  our  Saviour  for  telling  us,  that  if 
we  will  be  his  disciples,  we  must  take  up  our  cross,  and  so  fol- 
low him. 

Let  me  now  then  more  particularly  describe  the  cross,  and 
the  manner  in  which  we  are  required  to  bear  it.  To  begin,  in 
the 

First  place,  with  affiictions  of  a  religious  kind.  It  were 
wrong  to  flatter  men  with  a  notion,  that  as  soon  as  they  shall 
commence  disciples  of  Christ,  they  shall  become  perfectly  happy. 
This  is  not  to  be  expected.  The  judgment,  how  well  soever  it 
be  informed,  will  sometimes  be  perplexed  with  doubts.  And 
whatever  peace  religion  begets  in  the  conscience,  that  peace  will 
sometimes  be  disturbed  and  interrupted.  Truth  does  not  al- 
ways strike  the  mind  with  the  like  evidence  and  conviction; 
nor  does  it  always  afford  the  like  refreshment  and  joy  to  the 
heart.  Now  we  shall  see  the  Christian,  in  the  course  of  his  en- 
quiries, embarrassed  with  unexpected  difficulties,  and  it  may  be 
too  upon  the  most  interesting  points;  whence  results  a  great 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  99 

deal  of  anxiety  and  distress.  Now  lumieid  with  gloomy 
thoughts,  suggestions  and  temptations,  which,  though  involun- 
tary, make  him  very  unhappy.  Now  struggling  with  corrupt 
passions  and  affections,  and  almost  worn  out  with  the  conflict. 
Now  questioning  his  interest  in  the  favour  of  God,  and  writing 
bitter  things  against  himself.  Now  walking  in  darkness  and  in 
the  shadow  of  death,  enjoying  little  comfort  and  enlargement  in 
duty,  and  oppressed  with  many  sad  apprehensions  and  fears  con- 
cerning futurity.  These,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  are  some  of 
his  severest  crosses ;  afflictions  which  very  deeply  and  sensibly 
affect  his  heart,  damp  his  spirits,  and  enervate  all  the  powers  of 
his  soul.  Insomuch  that  he  can  scarcely  forbear  expressing 
himself  in  the  sorrowful  language  of  the  psalmist,  Will  the 
Lord  cast  off  for  ever  ?  Will  he  be  favourable  no  more "?  Hath 
he  forgotten  to  he  gracious  ?  Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  ten- 
der mercies  a  ? 

Yet  these  trials,  so  far  as  they  are  his  affliction,  not  his  sin, 
are  to  be  endured  with  patience  and  constancy.  We  are  not 
to  yield  to  the  suggestions  of  Satan,  or  the  discouragement  of 
our  own  timorous  hearts  ;  nor  yet  to  murmur  at  the  chastening 
hand  of  God,  or  take  occasion  from  thence  to  indulge  hard 
thoughts  of  religion.  But,  on  the  contrary,  we  are  to  resolve, 
in  a  dependence  on  divine  grace,  still  to  pursue  our  duty ;  be 
the  opposition  and  difficulty  we  meet  with  ever  so  painful  and 
distressing.  And  this  surely  is  most  reasonable,  since  these 
trials,  not  to  say  how  far  we  are  ourselves  accessory  to  them, 
are  often  a  very  necessary  part  of  Christian  experience,  and  are 
over-ruled  by  a  wise  and  good  God  to  the  most  salutary  and 
beneficial  purposes.     But  it  is. 

Secondly,  Outward  trouble  our  Lord  hero  chiefly,  if  not 
wholly  intends.  And  it  were  endless  to  describe  the  many  in- 
conveniences, pains  and  miseries,  to  which  good  men  are  liable 
for  the  sake  of  religion,  and  which,  under  certain  circumstances, 
are  scarcely  to  be  avoided.  Persecution  assumes  various  forms, 
and  innumerable  are  the  instruments  by  which  the  wicked  gratify 
their  resentments  against  those  who  fear  God.  Here  I  might 
tell  you  of  the  shyness,  indifference  and  neglect,  with  which 
some  humble,  serious  Christians  are  treated,  by  their  most  in- 
a  Psal.  Ixxvii.  7—9. 

g2 


100  THE  DrFFICU'LTlES 

timate  relations  and  connections  in  life  ;  of  the  invidious  re- 
flections cast  upon  their  understanding  and  prudence,  as  if  they 
were  fools  or  madmen ;  of  the  reproach  and  obloquy  with  which 
their  characters  are  loaded,  as  if  they  were  hypocrites  and  de- 
ceivers; of  the  discouragements  thrown  in  the  way  of  their 
worldly  interests  ;  of  the  abridgment  of  their  liberties,  the  spoil- 
ing of  their  goods,  and  the  abuse  of  their  persons  ;  of  fines,  im- 
prisonments, and  even  death  itself.  Crosses  these  hard  to  be 
home,  even  by  such  who  are  best  prepared  to  endure  them; 
since  the  grace  of  God  does  not  divest  men  of  the  passions  and 
feelings  of  humanity. 

And  they  are  crosses  which  have  been  imposed  upon  good 
men,  more  or  less,  in  every  age.  The  history  of  religion,  from 
the  very  beginning,  furnishes  innumerable  instances  of  this  sort. 
Between  the  seed  of  the  woman  and  of  the  serpent,  that  is,  be- 
tween the  kingdom  of  Christ  and  of  Satan,  there  ever  hath  been, 
and  ever  will  be,  an  irreconcileable  enmity.  So  that  the  bloody 
scene  exhibited  in  the  martyrdom  of  righteous  Abel,  hath  been 
acted  over  again,  in  thousands  of  his  meek  and  pious  successors. 
And  if  at  any  time  the  violence  of  persecution  hath  abated,  it 
hath  not  been  owing  to  the  utter  extirpation  of  that  malevolent 
spirit  which  inspires  it;  but  perhaps  chiefly  to  a  want  of  power 
in  wicked  men,  on  the  one  hand,  to  compass  their  cruel  pur- 
poses ;  or  to  a  decay  of  real  religion  among  good  men,  on  the 
other,  which  hath  nearly  extinguished  the  usual  provocation  to 
it.  Indeed  it  is  our  happiness  to  live  in  an  age,  wherein  the 
principles,  both  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  are  better  under- 
stood than  they  were  formerly;  and  wherein  good  sense,  mo- 
deration and  humanity,  have  prevailed  to  render  persecution,  at 
least  in  the  open  and  most  obnoxious  sense  of  the  word,  un- 
fashionable. Nor  should  we  forget,  while  history  holds  up  to 
our  view  the  sufferings  of  our  renowned  ancestors,  to  acknowledge 
the  great  goodness  of  God  herein.  Yet  even  now,  there  are 
few  who  nobly  resolve,  at  all  events,  to  express  a  becoming  zeal 
for  religion,  but  meet  with  slights  and  discouragements  of  one 
kind  or  other,  which  may,  without  the  charge  of  affectation, 
come  under  the  denomination  of  the  a'oss. 

What  then  is  the  spirit  of  this  command  of  our  Saviour  to 
take  up  the  cross  ?  It  can  never  intend  that  v/e  are  to  court  per- 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  .  101 

secution.  That  were  madness  indeed.  Calumny  and  abuse, 
hunger  and  want,  the  dungeon  and  the  stake,  are  not  surely  to 
be  coveted :  nor  can  it  be  right,  through  a  false  kind  of  emula- 
tion to  win  the  crown  of  martyrdom,  to  take  indirect  measures 
to  procure  it.  For  by  so  doing,  we  betray  a  vanity  and  wan- 
tonness of  mind,  which  is  very  unsuitable  to  the  true  genius 
and  spirit  of  the  gospel;  nay,  we  become  accessaries  to -the 
crime  of  which  they  are  guilty,  whom  we  thus  tempt  to  com- 
mit this  great  evil.  It  should  be  our  care  therefore,  that  we 
do  not  by  an  imprudent  behaviour,  or  by  an  indecent  boldness, 
provoke  the  enemies  of  truth  and  religion,  to  a  conduct,  wliich 
must  in  the  end  involve  them  in  misery.  Nor  does  our  Lord 
mean  to  forbid  a  proper  resistance  to  suffering,  when  that  is  in 
our  power.  When  ive  are  persecuted  in  one  city,  we  are  to  Jlee 
to  another  a.  If  we  can  tie  up  the  hands  of  the  oppressor,  or 
prudently  ward  off  the  blow  he  meditates,  we  are  hereby  doing 
a  kindness  to  him  as  well  as  ourselves.  Nay,  we  may  lawfully 
defend  our  own  lives  and  properties,  even  though  it  be  at  the 
manifest  hazard  o£  theirs  who  would  deprive  us  of  them,  provid- 
ed all  other  means  are  ineffectual.  And  yet,  in  regard  of  some 
lesser  evils,  it  were  better  quietly  to  endure  them,  than  by  an 
obstinate  defence,  endanger  the  still  greater  damage  of  him 
who  would  injure  us,  and  risk  the  charge  of  malevolence  and  re- 
venge. 

But,  when  the  only  alternative  is  suffering  or  sinning,  bear- 
ing the  cross  or  violating  conscience,  we  are  not  allowed  to  he- 
sitate a  moment  upon  the  question.  We  are  to  take  it  up,  to 
carry  it,  yea,  if  such  be  the  will  of  God,  to  resign  our  lives 
thereon.  Now  this  injunction  of  our  Lord's  includes  in  it — 
the  countinfj  of  suffering  before  hand — the  meeting  it  with  cool- 
ness  and  composure^the  enduring  it  with  meekness  and  reso- 
•  lution — and,  what  is  more  than  all  this,  the  glorying  in  it  as  our 
highest  honour. 

1.  It  is  our  wisdom,  when  we  first  become  the  disciples  of 
Christ,  to  set  before  our  eyes  the  risks  we  are  to  run,  and  the 
dangers  we  are  to  encounter  in  his  service.  What  if  imagina- 
tion be  allowed  to  paint  these  scenes  in  the  strongest  colours  ?  It 
will  be  a  likely  means  to  try  the  sincerity  and  ardour  of  our  love, 

ft  Matt.  X.  23. 


102  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

and  to  prepare  us  for  what  may  be  the  event.  Our  Lord  had  the 
utmost  tenderness  for  his  immediate  followers  ;  yet  he  forebore 
not  to  discourse  frequently  with  them  on  subjects  of  this  nature. 
Behold  I  send  you  forth  as  sheep  among  wolves.  They  will  de- 
liver you  up  to  the  councils,  and  scourge  you  in  their  syna- 
gogues. Ye  shall  be  hroiight  before  governors  and  kings,  and  be 
hated  of  all  men  for  my  sake  a.  Sad  tidings  these  !  But  was 
it  merely  to  alarm  their  fears,  that  he  thus  addressed  them  ?  No 
— He  had  more  compassion  for  them  than  all  this  !  His  view 
was  to  put  them  in  a  fit  posture  to  meet  what  was  coming  upon 
them.  It  had  been  his  own  practice  to  ruminate  frequently  on 
his  future  sufferings.  Deserts,  mountains,  and  solitary  places, 
had  borne  witness  to  these  his  preparations  for  affliction  and 
death.  He  would  therefore  recommend  it  to  them  by  contem- 
plation and  prayer,  to  take  up  the  cross,  and  follow  him.  And 
thus  are  we  to  gird  up  our  loins  for  the  race  we  have  to  run ; 
and  ere  we  set  out  on  our  warfare,  to  count  the  cost.  And 
what  will  be  the  effect, 

2.  But  the  meeting  our  sufferings  with  calmness  and  com- 
posure of  mind  ?  a  temper  admirably  expressed  by  the  phrase  in 
the  text.  The  enemy  may  assault  us  on  a  sudden  ;  and  surprises 
are  dangerous.  Our  Lord,  in  one  of  his  parables,  speaks  of 
those  hearers  of  the  word,  who,  having  no  root  in  themselves, 
when  persecution  or  tribulation  ariseth,  are  quickly  o^ended  b. 
But  he  who  hath  often,  at  proper  seasons,  anticipated  the  dis- 
couragements he  may  endure  for  Christ's  sake,  and  hath  boldly 
ventured  on  a  profession  of  religion  in  the  prospect  of  them ; 
though  when  they  arise,  he  may  sensibly  feel  them,  yet,  to  use 
the  language  of  scripture,  he  will  not  be  afraid  with  any  amaze- 
ment. Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  conceiming  the  fiery  trial 
which  is  to  try  you  c,  was  the  calm  advice  of  an  apostle,  who  had 
not  only  long  borne  the  cross,  but  knew  laat  he  should  one  day 
actually  suffer  death  thereon.  What  self-possession,  what  ad- 
mirable composure  and  serenity  of  mind,  did  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians many  of  them  enjoy,  when  they  beheld  the  blackest  storms 
of  persecution  just  bursting  on  their  heads  !  Whilst  their  per- 
secutors breathed  out  threatenings  and  slaughter,  and  were  mad 
with  rage  and  resentment,  they  could  coolly  reason  and  reflect, 
a  Matt.  X.  16—22.  h  Matt.  xiii.  21.  c  1  Pet.  iv.  12. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  103 

they  could  with  divine  eloquence  expostulate  and  persuade.  Be 
our  afflictions  then  what  they  may,  in  such  manner  it  is  our 
duty  to  meet  them.  And  if  we  thus  take  up  the  cross,  we  shall 
be  likely, 

3.  To  bear  it  with  meekness  and  resolution.  A  base,  servile 
submission  to  the  impositions  and  abuses  of  unreasonable  men, 
is  unworthy  of  a  Christian.  It  is  a  temper  which,  as  I  said 
before,  the  text  by  no  means  countenances.  Our  Saviour  him- 
self shewed  a  noble  superiority  to  it;  as  did  also  the  great 
apostle,  who  stands  distinguished  in  the  list  of  his  suflPering 
followers.  Yet,  with  a  generous  sense  of  freedom,  and  a  spirit 
on  every  proper  occasion  to  assert  it,  that  meekness  our  Lord 
here  inculcates  well  consists.  It  is  truly  noble,  with  the  gentle- 
ness of  a  lamb,  to  endure  the  miseries  which  are  not  to  be  escaped, 
but  at  the  expence  of  truth  and  conscience  ;  to  suppress  every 
unbecoming  thought  of  the  Divine  providence  which  permits 
them  :  to  forbear  all  indecent  and  clamorous  reflections  on  the 
immediate  instruments  of  them  ;  and  to  pour  out  our  sincere  and 
compassionate  addresses  to  Heaven,  on  behalf  of  those  who  are 
maliciously  threatening  our  destruction.  But  there  is  a  yet 
higher  and  nobler  attainment,  to  which  as  the  disciples  of  Jesus, 
we  should  aspire  ;  and  that  is, 

4.  Glorying  in  the  cross  of  Chris^t.  He  who  suffers  in  the 
cause  of  religion,  may  be  justly  considered  as  the  favourite  of 
heaven,  and  the  man  whom  God  delights  to  honour.  He  is 
dignified  above  many  of  his  fellow-disciples,  by  being  thus  em- 
ployed in  the  most  interesting  services  for  the  church  of  Christ, 
and  indeed  mankind  in  general.  His  behaviour,  if  it  be  such 
as  hath  been  represented,  hath  a  direct  and  mighty  influence  to 
confirm  the  faith  of  other  Christians,  to  fix  a  conviction  of  the 
truth  on  the  consciences  of  the  wicked,  and  to  command  the  re- 
verence, if  not  aft'ection,  of  all  beholders.  And,  besides  the  di- 
vine consolations  he  may  reasonably  hope  to  enjoy,  in  the  se- 
verest moments  of  trial ;  there  awaits  him  a  crown  of  unfading 
glory  in  the  world  to  come.  Well  may  he  therefore,  animated 
by  these  considerations,  like  his  divine  Master,  endure  the  cross 
and  despise  the  shame  a  !  Well  may  he  take  pleasure,  as  the 
apostle  expresses  it,  in  injirmities,  in  reproacheSf  in  necessities^ 

a  Heb.  xii.  3. 


104  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

iti  persecutions,  in  distresses,  for  Christ's  sake  a  !  Well  may  he, 
in  a  word,  by  the  grace  of  God,  not  only  with  meekness  bear 
the  cross,  but  even  triumph  amidst  the  horrors  of  death  itself ! 
And  now  what  objection  can  we  have  to  this  sacred  injunc- 
tion? It  is  most  fit  and  reasonable.  Nay,  it  ought  to  be  most 
cheerfully  complied  with.  For  if  we  do  sincerely  love  Christ, 
we  have  every  imaginable  consideration,  to  inflame  our  zeal  and 
animate  our  breasts  in  his  service.  But  this  is  a  subject  I  must 
refer  to  the  next  discourse. 

PART  III. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  third  and  last  expression  of  obe- 
dience, which  our  Saviour  demands  of  his  disciples ;  and  that  is, 

III.  To  follow  him.  Indeed  the  phrase  in  this  place  is  un- 
derstood by  some,  as  only  a  redundancy  of  expression.  If  any 
man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross,  and  sofolloiv  me,  or  come  after  me.  But  I  think  it  adds 
a  beauty  to  the  passage,  as  well  as  amplifies  the  sense  of  it,  to 
consider  this  last  clause,  as  designed  to  convey  some  farther  dis- 
tinct idea  of  our  duty.  You  see  our  Lord  rises  by  degrees. 
Self-denial  he  recommends  in  the  first  place.  Then  a  patient 
submission  to  suffering.  And  last  of  all,  a  general  conformity 
to  his  will,  and  imitation  of  his  example.  In  the  former  in- 
stances, what  he  requires  is  chiefly  negative,  in  this  it  is  wholly 
positive. 

Now  our  Saviour's  character,  it  is  acknowledged  on  all  hands, 
was  in  the  strictest  sense  perfect.  So  that  when  he  requires  us 
to  follow  him,  in  order  to  our  becoming  his  disciples,  it  may 
seem  as  if  he  expected  that  of  us,  which  is  in  its  own  nature  im- 
possible, I  mean  an  absolute  perfection  of  character.  Before, 
therefore,  we  proceed  to  illustrate  the  duty  here  enjoined,  it 
may  be  proper  to  obviate  this  farther  prejudice  against  religion, 
as  we  have  already  those  which  arise  from  the  duties  of  self- 
denial  and  hearing  the  cross. 

It  is  a  prejudice  which  affects  both  the  enemies  and  the  friends 

of  religion,  at  least  some  of  them.     As  to  the  man  who  hath  a 

secret  dislike  to  what  is  serious  and  good,   he  is  glad  to  avail 

himself  of  every  circumstance,  which  may  seem  to  justify  his 

rt  2  Cor.  xu.  10. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  105 

infidelity  and  disobedience.  With  warmth,  therefore,  and  it 
may  be  an  air  of  triumph,  he  puts  in  his  exceptions  to  this  com- 
mand, as  too  refined  and  spiritual  ever  to  become  practicable. 
"  You  tell  me,  that  all  my  objections  to  self-denial  are  vain ; 
for  that  it  is  a  duty  which  very  well  consists  with  a  reasonable 
love  of  myself.  And  in  like  manner,  that  the  ofi:ence  I  have 
been  apt  to  take  at  the  cross  is  groundless ;  for  that  the  bearing 
it  very  well  consists  with  a  prudent  concern  for  my  temporal  in- 
terests. Be  it  so.  Yet  to  follow  Christ,  that  is,  to  come  up 
to  that  perfection  of  character  which  he  is  said  to  have  possessed, 
is  what  no  man  is  capable  of  in  the  present  life.  It  is  therfore 
vain  to  attempt  it."  And  then,  on  the  other  hand,  as  to  the 
serious  dejected  Christian,  though  he  is  struck  with  the  excel- 
lencies of  Christ,  and  sincerely  aims  to  copy  after  them  ;  yet  he 
hath,  perhaps  through  weakness,  fixed  the  standard  of  religion 
so  high,  and  is  at  the  same  time  so  deeply  sensible  of  his  own 
defects  and  imperfections,  that  he  can  scarcely  allow  himself  to 
be  a  disciple  of  .Tesus.  *'  I  would  fain  resemble  my  Master. 
But  ah  !  his  likeness  is  so  imperfectly  drawn  out  on  my  tem- 
per and  life,  that  I  fear  it  will  be  presumption  in  me  to  rank 
among  his  followers."  Now,  in  order  to  obviate  this  objection, 
it  is  to  be  observed, 

1.  That  perfection,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  it,  is  not  required 
of  a  disciple  of  Christ.  The  expression  we  do  indeed  often 
meet  with  in  the  Bible.  Abraham  is  commanded  to  walk  before 
God  and  be  perfect  a.  Our  Saviour  exhorts  his  disciples  to  be 
perfect,  even  as  their  Father  in  heaven  is  perfect  b.  And  the 
apostles,  with  great  earnestness,  press  us  to  go  on  unto  perfec- 
tion c.  Nay,  one  of  them  declares,  that  he  who  is  boTn  of  God 
sinneth  not  d.  But  it  would  argue  either  very  great  weakness 
or  perverseness,  to  infer  from  such  expressions,  the  necessity  of 
an  absolute  freedom  from  all  impure  mixtures  in  the  present  life. 
For  this  is  an  attainment  so  impossible  in  its  own  nature,  so  con- 
trary to  the  experience  of  the  most  eminent  Christians,  and  so 
entirely  inconsistent  with  the  vicissitude,  trial  and  affliction 
which  attend  them  through  this  world,  that  no  sober  considerate 
man  can  imagine  a  book  divinely  inspired  would  affirm  it  to  be 
necessary. 

a  Gen.  xvii.  2.  6  Matt.  v.  48.  c  Heb.  vl.  I.  rf  1  John  v.  18. 


106  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

Nay,  it  asserts  the  direct  contrary.  Jf  we  say  that  we  have 
no  sin  we  deceive  ourselves,  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us  a.  Nor 
does  it  exhibit  any  one  character  to  our  view,  except  it  be  that 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  without  apprising  us  of  its  imperfec- 
tions as  well  as  its  excellencies.  Is  Abraham  applauded  for  his 
faith,  Job  for  his  patience,  or  Moses  for  his  meekness  ?  their 
mistakes  are  also  faithfully  reported,  and  even  their  failures  in 
those  very  graces  for  which  they  were  so  much  renowned.  And 
he  who  reads  the  history  of  the  New  Testament,  will  see  many 
blemishes  in  the  characters  of  the  apostles;  whilst  he  is  obliged 
to  acknowledge  them,  upon  the  whole,  men  of  strict  integrity 
and  exalted  piety.  And  then  as  to  Christ,  though  his  charac- 
ter hath  no  defect  in  it,  and  it  is  unquestionably  our  duty  to 
imitate  it ;  yet  our  being  required  to  follow  him,  does  not  oblige 
us  to  an  exact  resemblance  of  him,  but  only  to  use  our  utmost 
endeavours  to  that  end. 

But  it  will  be  said,  "  Though  absolute  perfection  is  not  ex- 
pected in  the  present  life ;  yet  our  Lord  requires  such  an  imi- 
tation of  his  example,  as  parries  tiie  idea  of  religion  to  a  height 
of  purity  and  spirituality  which  is  scarcely  attainable,  or  however, 
not  without  the  greatest  difficulty."  It  is  therefore  farther  to 
be  observed, 

2.  That  ihc  following  Christ  supposes,  a  principle  of  religion 
already  implanted  in  the  heart ;  and  hath  connected  with  it,  the 
promise  of  all  needful  influences  from  above,  to  aid  us  in  our 
duty.  To  a  carnal  heart,  a  heart  wholly  under  the  dominion  of 
sin,  the  lessons  which  Christ  teaches  may  seem  too  hard  to  be 
learned,  and  the  precepts  he  enjoins,  too  severe  and  difficult  to 
be  obeyed.  Nay,  to  the  Christian  himself,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, they  may  seem  almost  impracticable.  But  surely 
where  there  is  a  firm  faith  of  the  great  realities  of  religion,  a 
fixed  abhorrence  of  sin,  a  sincere  love  of  God,  and  a  taste  for 
the  refined  pleasures  of  devotion  ;  the  commands  of  Christ,  even 
in  their  utmost  latitude,  will  appear  truly  excellent  and  desir- 
able. 

With  what  an  eager  gust  of  affisction  does  the  psalmist  utter 
these  words,  O  that  my  ways  were  directed  to  keep  thy  sta- 
tutes b  !  The  tender  feelings  of  that  amiable  woman  Ruth,  for 
a  1  John  i.  S,  h  Psal.  cxix.  5. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  lOT 

her  mother  Naomi,  rendered  the  idea  of  following  lier,  liow 
painful  soever  on  some  accounts,  easy  and  pleasant.  She  was 
not  discouraged,  as  her  sister  Orpah  seems  to  have  been,  by  the 
sad  thought  of  leaving  her  native  country,  and  sharing  with 
this  poor  destitute  widow,  in  her  future  hard  fortunes.  His 
commands,  said  the  beloved  disciple  of  Jesus,  whose  heart  was 
impregnated  with  an  unconquerable  affection  for  his  divine 
Master,  are  not  grievous  a.  You  see  then  a  principle  of  religion 
will  greatly  facilitate  our  obedience,  and  so  take  off  the  edge  of 
the  objection. 

And  then  farther,  the  promise  of  divine  aids  to  assist  him  in 
his  course  of  duty,  tends  mightily  to  attenuate  and  soften  many 
circumstances,  which  to  the  Christian  himself  may  sometimes 
appear  hard  and  difficult.  There  are  certain  seasons  in  which, 
either  through  temptation,  dejection  of  mind,  or  weakness  of 
animal  nature,  insuperable  discouragements  seem  to  lie  in  the 
way  of  his  following  Christ.  He  knows  not  how  to  think  of 
deserting  his  Master,  yet  to  keep  close  to  him  is,  in  his  sad 
apprehension,  when  thus  beclouded  with  perplexing  doubts  and 
fears,  almost  impossible.  But  be  these  discouragements  what 
they  may,  he  who  hath  required  us  to  follow  hira,  hath  suf- 
ficiently provided  against  them  all,  as  we  shall  see  more  fully  in 
the  next  discourse.  Mi/  grace  is  svfficientfor  thee  b.  As  thy 
days,  thy  strength  shall  be  c.  And  after  all  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, 

3.  That  our  highest  attainments  in  religion  are  not  the  mat- 
ter of  our  justification  before  God.  This  I  the  rather  mention, 
because  it  seems  to  me  a  consideration  of  great  moment,  when 
rightly  understood  and  applied,  to  relieve  us  of  slavish  fears, 
and  to  remove  an  objection  which  hath  no  small  force  to  intimi- 
date us  from  following  Christ.  If  our  Saviour  had  put  the 
issue  of  our  salvation  upon  our  rendering  an  exact  and  perfect 
obedience  to  the  law  of  God,  the  ground  on  which  the  covenant 
of  works  originally  stood ;  it  had  been  a  vain  thing  to  think  of 
being  his  disciple,  because  such  an  obedience,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  is  absolutely  impracticable.  No  ;  the  honours  of  the  di- 
vine law  and  government  are  fully  vindicated  and  maintained, 
by  the  sacrifice  and  righteousness  of  Christ.  So  that  mercy, 
a  1  John  V.  3.  b2  Cor.  xii.  9.  c  Deut.  xxxiii.  25. 


108  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

with  all  the  consequent  blessings  of  it,  is  extended  towards  sin- 
ners, in  a  way  perfectly  consistent  with  justice  and  truth. 

Which  beinf^  the  case,  it  follows,  that  we  have  no  cause  to 
be  discouraged  in  our  religious  pursuits,  by  a  deep  sense  of  our 
numerous  follies  and  imperfections.  For  if  any  man  sin,  ens 
from  his  duty,  through  temptation,  and  bitterly  laments  it  be- 
fore God,  let  him  remember,  tee  have  an  advocate  with  the  Fa- 
ther, Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  a.  And  yet  this  idea  of  our 
acceptance  with  God,  through  the  righteousness  of  Christ  alone, 
which  tlie  apostle  explains  and  defends  at  large,  in  his  epistle  to 
the  Romans  b,  very  well  consists  with  the  necessity  of  personal 
character,  or  inherent  holiness,  and  is  indeed  the  most  noble  and 
powerful  motive  to  excite  us  to  obedience. 

Thus  have  I  endeavoured  to  combat  the  objections,  which 
are  usually  urged  against  this  command  of  Christ.  Which 
leads  me  now  more  particularly  to  illustrate  the  command  itself. 
To  follow  Christ  then,  is, 

1.  To  submit  ourselves  entirely  to  his  guidance  and  direc- 
tion. He  hath  undertaken  to  shew  us  the  path  to  heaven;  and 
he  is  every  way  equal  to  it,  having  a  perfect  knowledge  of  his 
Father's  will,  and  a  hearty  affection  to  our  interests.  Many 
who  have  taken  upon  them  to  be  the  guides  of  others,  have 
turned  out  weak  and  fallible,  and  some  of  them  crafty  and  de- 
signing men.  So  that  the  unhappy  multitude,  who  have  im- 
plicitly intrusted  them  with  their  understandings  and  con- 
sciences, have  been  quickly  betrayed  into  errors  and  practices 
of  the  most  pernicious  tendency.  And  the  blind  becoming  thus 
the  leaders  of  the  blind,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  they  have 
both  fallen  into  the  pit.  But  this  is  not  the  case  here.  Christ 
hath  claimed  the  character  of  a  teacher  come  from  God,  assur- 
ing us  that  '  all  things  are  delivered  to  him  of  the  Father,'  that 
he  is  authorised  '  to  reveal  him  to  whomsoever  he  will  c,'  that 
he  is  '  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  Hfe,'  and  that  '  no  man 
coraeth  to  the  Father,  but  by  him  d'  This  claim  he  hath  sup- 
ported, not  only  by  the  sublimity  and  excellence  of  his  doctrine, 
and  the  purity  and  exemplariness  of  his  life,  but  by  a  series  of 
incontestible  miracles.     Moses  hath   borne  witness  to  him  as 

a  1  John  ii.  I.  b  Rom.  iii.  20—28.  v.  15—21. 

c  Mutt.  xi.  27.  .  d  John  xiv.  6, 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  l09 

the  true  prophet,  commanding  us  to  hear  him  in  all  things  a. 
And  God  himself  hath  declared  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  that 
he  is  well  pleased  with  him^  solemnly  requiring  us  to  be  obe- 
dient to  his  instructions  b.  So  that  he  is  an  infallible  guide, 
not  capable  of  erring  himself,  through  ignorance,  prejudice  or 
passion ;  nor  yet  of  leading  others  astray,  through  ill-will  or  dis- 
affection to  them,  or  through  any  unworthy  or  self-interested 
views  of  his  own. 

Now  to  follow  him,  is  to  submit  ourselves  entirely,  and  with- 
out the  least  doubt  or  hesitation,  to  his  instructions ;  just  as  a 
traveller,  who,  passing  through  a  country  he  is  a  perfect  stran- 
ger to,  puts  himself  under  the  conduct  of  his  guide,  in  whose 
integrity  and  knowledge  of  the  way  he  implicitly  confides. 
Fully  persuaded  of  the  divinity  of  our  Lord's  mission,  we  are 
meekly  to  receive  his  doctrine,  not  daring  to  dispute  matters 
with  him,  or  when  he  tells  us  this  is  the  way,  obstinately  to  in- 
sist upon  it  that  that  is  better.  And  since  it  is  natural  to  sup- 
pose, he  may  tell  us  some  things  difficult  to  be  comprehended, 
though  by  no  means  absurd  or  contradictory,  and  others  which 
may  clash  with  our  perverse  inclinations ;  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary, as  I  have  before  shewn,  tliat  we  resolutely  mortify  and 
subdue  the  pride  of  our  depraved  understandings,  the  prejudices 
of  our  stubborn  wills,  and  the  pi*edilections  of  our  vain  and 
worldly  hearts.  We  must  not  confer  withjiesh  and  blood,  but 
consent  to  have  our  thoughts  and  reasonings  brouglit  into  cap- 
tivity to  the  obedience  of  Christ.  It  must  be  a  fixed  point  with 
us  to  yield  to  him  in  every  matter,  even  the  minutest,  which, 
from  a  carefid  examination  of  the  authentic  records  he  hatli  left 
us,  appear  clearly  to  us  to  be  his  mind  and  will.  To  him  v/e 
must  say,  as  the  Israelites  did  to  Moses,  Speak  thou  unto  lis  all 
that  the  Lord  our  God  shall  speak  unto  thee,  and  ice  icill  hear  it  c. 
This  is  what  the  apostles  style  the  obedience  of  faith  /  and  all 
this  enters  into  the  idea  of  ibllowing  Christ. 

And  as  there  is  the  highest  reason,  so  there  is  the  greatest 
satisfaction  and  pleasure  in  thus  following  him.  For  hereby 
the  mind  is  relieved  of  those  many  perplexities,  with  which  it  is 
unavoidably  entangled,  while  it  hath  no  other  guide  to  conduct 

a  Deut.  xriii.  18,  19.  h  Matt.  xvii.  \b.  e  Deut.  v.  27. 


110  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

it  through  the  mazes  of  this  life,  but  the  dim  light  of  nature,  or 
the  uncertain  reasonings  of  weak  and  fallible  men.     Again, 

2.  To  follow  Christ  is  to  make  a  public  profession  of  his  reli- 
gion. This,  upon  a  general  view  of  things,  and  as  matters  are 
now  circumstanced  among  us,  may  seem  no  very  great  hardship. 
For  the  case  with  us  at  present,  is  widely  different  from  what  it 
was  in  primitive  times.  The  civil  power  was  then  on  the  side 
of  infidelity,  and  few  dared  to  profess  themselves  the  disciples 
of  Jesus,  without  the  utmost  hazard  to  their  persons  and  for- 
tunes. Whence  it  followed,  that  a  public  avowal  of  the  Chris- 
tian name,  was  of  itself  a  sufficient  proof  of  a  man's  sincerity ; 
and  the  apostles  with  good  reason  affirmed,  that  whoever  called 
Jesus  Lord,  and  coiifessed  that  Christ  is  come  in  the  jiesh,  was 
of  God  a.  But  now  the  Christian  religion  is  established  by 
public  authority ;  so  that  to  be  a  Christian,  in  the  common  ac- 
ceptation of  that  character,  is  no  other  than  to  fall  in  with  the 
opinion  and  profession  of  the  bulk  of  ma>nkind,  or  however  of 
the  country  wherein  we  live.  And  this  can  never  subject  us  to 
any  kind  of  worldly  inconvenience. 

But  if  we  consider  well,  what  is  the  leading  doctrine  of  the 
New  Testament,  that  which  distinguishes  the  gospel  from  every 
other  system  of  religion,  and  hath  the  main  influence  in  form- 
ing the  character,  and  giving  life  and  vigour  to  the  obedience  of 
a  real  Christian  ;  and  if  we  farther  consider  what  is  the  true  na- 
ture and  intent  of  the  positive  institutions  of  Christ,  we  shall 
find,  that  to  follow  him,  that  is,  to  profess  the  one,  and  duly  to 
practise  the  others,  will  require  a  simplicity  of  heart,  and  firm- 
ness of  mind,  which  I  fear  few,  comparatively  speaking,  possess. 

No  one  can  be  a  true  disciple  of  Christ,  who  is  not  disposed, 
with  all  becoming  humility,  to  acknowledge  himself  a  miserable 
helpless  sinner,  and  to  ascribe  his  hope  of  eternal  salvation,  to 
the  mercy  of  God,  through  the  mediation,  sacrifice,  and  righte- 
ousness of  Christ  alone.  But  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  such  a  cor- 
dial subjection  to  Christ,  aa.  our  only  Saviour,  will  have  no  in- 
considerable difficulties  to  struggle  with.  It  will  meet  with  op- 
position, and  with  very  powerful  opposition,  in  some  instances, 
from  the  proud  and  false  reasonings  of  the  human  heart,  and 
from  the  strong  prepossessions  we  all  naturally  feel  in  fa- 
a  1  Cor.  xil.  3.— 1  John  iv.  3. 


^^TTENDING  RELIGION.  Ill 

r 

Veur  of  ourselves,  and  of  certain  good  qualities,  by  which  we 
imagine  we  stand  distinguished  from  others.  And  then  an 
open  profession  of  these  our  regards  to  Christ,  amidst  the  vio- 
lent, though  unreasonable  prejudices  of  many  against  the  gospel, 
will  be  likely  to  draw  upon  us  the  contempt,  if  not  abuse,  of 
such  persons.  Thus,  however,  it  behoves  us  to  follow  Christ, 
in  the  face  of  the  greatest  opposition  ;  to  consider  his  religion 
as  our  highest  glory;  and  to  be  ever  ready  zealously  to  main- 
tain and  defend  it.  I  am  not  ashamed,  said  the  apostle,  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ :  for  it  is  the  poiver  of  God  unto  salvation,  to 
every  one  that  hcUeveth ;  to  the  Jew  first,  and  also  to  the 
Greek  a.  God  forbid  that  J  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the  world  is  crucified  unto  me, 
and  I  unto  the  irorld  b.  And  again,  Doubtless  I  count  all 
things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knoitiedge  of  Christ 
Jesus  my  Lord:  for  ivhom  I  have  sufieredthe  loss  of  all  things, 
and  do  count  them  bid  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ,  and  be 
found  in  him,  not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which  is  of 
the  law,  but  that  ivhich  is  through  the  faith  of  Christ,  the  righ- 
teousness which  is  of  God  by  faith  c. 

A  due  regard  also  to  the  positive  institutions  of  Christ,  as 
well  as  this  general  profession  of  his  doctrine,  is  included  in 
the  idea  of  following  him.  Convinced  of  the  truth  of  his  reli- 
gion, and  endued,  in  our  measure,  with  the  real  spirit  of  it,  we 
are  to  put  on  Christ  by  baptism.  So  it  becometh  us  to  fulfil 
all  righteousness,  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  when  he  descend- 
ed into  the  watery  tomb,  and  was  therein  baptized  of  John. 
An  institution  this,  by  which,  in  obedience  to  his  authority,  we 
declare  our  faith  in  his  death  and  resurrection,  and  our  resolu- 
tion henceforth,  in  a  dependence  on  his  grace,  to  walk  in  new- 
ness of  life.  Thus  initiated  into  the  service  of  our  divine  Mas- 
ter, we  are  to  join  ourselves  to  some  society  of  Christians,  that 
with  them  we  may  enjoy  all  those  means  of  instruction,  coun- 
sel, and  reproof,  which  Christ  hath  appointed  in  his  church  ; 
and  particularly  the  sacred  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  supper,  a 
feast  which  he  hath  required  his  followers  to  observe,  to  the  end 
of  time,  in  commemoration  of  his  death,  and  the  blessed  fruits 
which  result  from  it.  So  the  primitive  Christians,  having  been 
a  Rom,  i.  16.  b  Gal.  \i.  ll.  c  PhU.  iii,  8,  9. 


112  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

baptized,  were  added  to  the  church,  and  continued  stedfastly  in 
the  apostles  doctrine  and  fellowship^  and  in  breaking  of  bread, 
and  in  prayers  a. 

Thus,  by  a  faithful  and  regular  attendance  on  all  the  duties 
of  public  worship,  and,  I  may  add,  of  family  and  private  devo- 
tion too,  we  are  tofolloiv  Christ.  And  whoever  considers  the 
true  intent  of  these  his  institutions,  after  what  manner  he  hath 
commanded  us  to  observe  them,  and  the  indifference,  if  not  con- 
tempt, in  which  they  are  held  by  too  many  who  call  themselves 
Christians ;  will  see  that  not  a  little  zeal  and  resolution  is  re- 
quisite to  the  character  of  a  real  disciple  of  Christ.     Once  more, 

3.  To  follow  Christ  is  to  imitate  his  example.  And  indeed 
it  is  to  little  purpose,  that  we  are  warm  advocates  for  his  doc- 
trine and  institutions,  if  we  are  all  the  while  estranged  from  his 
spirit  and  temper.  Nay,  if  this  be  the  case,  we  do  but  afPront 
him,  amidst  our  highest  professions  of  zeal  for  his  service.  A 
more  deformed  and  wretched  character  can  scarcely  be  imagined, 
than  that  of  a  man  whose  head  is  filled  with  religious  specula- 
tions, while  his  heart  is  devoted  to  his  lusts ;  and  who,  at  the 
very  same  time  he  hath  the  assurance  to  say  to  Christ,  as  the 
Pharisees  did  of  old,  Master,  thou  teachest  the  way  of  God 
tridy  A,  is  thus,  in  effect,  taking  measures  to  betray  him.  No. 
If  we  will  be  his  real  disciples,  while  we  acknowledge  him  as 
our  guide,  and  confide  in  him  as  our  Saviour,  we  must  resolve 
to  copy  after  him  as  our  pattern.  And  a  most  bright  and  perfect 
pattern  it  is  which  he  hath  set  us.  It  is  an  example  exhibited 
to  our  view,  amidst  all  the  weaknesses  of  humanity,  and  so  is 
exactly  suited  to  our  condition.  An  example  free  from  every 
ilnaginable  defect,  and  so  hath  the  authority  of  a  command.  And 
the  example  of  a  friend,  to  whom  we  are  under  the  greatest 
obligation,  and  so  hath  in  itself  every  possible  motive  of  gene- 
rosity and  love  to  engage  our  imitation.  Let  us  take  a  general 
view  of  it 

As  to  his  piety  towards  God,  it  was  truly  noble  and  exalted. 
The  most  striking  expressions  of  reverence,  confidence,  submis- 
sion, devotion,  and  obedience,  appeared  in  the  whole  of  his  con- 
duct. He  daily  conversed  with  God,  by  his  word  and  works, 
by  prayer  and  praise,  in  his  retirements,  and  in  public  and  so- 
rt Acts  ii.  4.g.  b  Matt.  xx.  16. 


ATTENDING  RELIGION.  113 

cial  acts  of  worship.  He  carefully  eyed  the-  hand  of  God  in 
every  event,  and  improved  all  the  occurrences  of  life  to  the  great 
purposes  of  religion.  The  utmost  abhorrence  he  ever  expressed 
at  all  appearance  of  vice  and  sin,  and  the  warmest  affection  and 
2eal  for  truth  and  holiness.  In  his  Father's  will,  however  con- 
trary to  his  temporal  interests,  he  cheerfully  acquiesced ;  and 
in  his  faithfulness  and  goodness,  amidst  the  darkest  scenes  of 
adversity,  he  firmly  confided.  In  a  word,  the  glory  of  God  he 
pursued  with  unwearied  ardour  and  resolution,  though  at  the 
expence  of  his  outward  ease  and  happiness,  and  many  times  with 
little  appearance  of  success. 

As  to  social  duties,  need  I  tell  you  how  prudently,  uprightly 
and  benevolently  he  acquitted  himself,  in  the  whole  of  his  con- 
duct towards  mankind  ?  Every  character  and  relation  of  life  he 
filled  up,  with  the  greatest  propriety  and  exactness.  Towards 
his  parents  he  carried  himself  with  all  filial  reverence,  duty  and 
affection.  Towards  his  disciples  and  friends,  with  all  sincerity, 
tenderness  and  fidelity.  And  towards  his  enemies  with  a  pa- 
tience and  forbearance,  and  yet  a  sensibility  and  spirit,  which 
exceed  description.  The  strictest  integrity  and  truth  were 
stamped  upon  all  his  actions ;  and  at  the  same  time,  prudence 
and  discretion  were  tempered  with  all  his  native  simplicity  and 
plainness.  He  was  ever  respectful  to  his  superiors,  and  conde- 
scending to  those  of  low  estate.  Ever  ready  to  redress  the 
grievances  of  the  oppressed,  and  to  shew  compassion  and  kind- 
ness to  the  afilicted.  Ever  meditating  designs  of  general  good, 
and  ever  vigorously  carrying  them  into  execution.  His  dress, 
his  gesture,  his  familiar  talk,  his  journeys  from  place  to  place, 
his  public  discourses,  his  miracles,  in  short,  all  the  actions  of 
his  life,  were  uniformly  directed  to  this  one  point,  the  doing 
good. 

And  then,  his  temper  and  conduct  in  regard  of  himself,  were 
no  less  amiable  and  exemplary.  In  meekness  and  humility, 
temperance  and  sobriety,  contentment  and  patience,  spirituality 
and  heavenly-mindedness,  he  shone  with  unrivalled  lustre. 
Though  conscious  to  himself  that  he  possessed  a  perfection  of 
wisdom  and  goodness,  yet  he  was  of  a  humble  and  lowly  temper, 
and  his  carriage  was  free  from  all  appearance  of  affectation  and 
pride.     Sensible  as  he  was  of  the  value  and  use  of  worldly  en- 

voL.  I.  n 


114  THE  DIFFICULTIES' 

joyments,  he  had  a  sovereign  contempt  for  them  all,  in  compari- 
son witli  the  refined  pleasures  of  religion.  No  offers  of  worldly 
wealth  or  grandeur  could  tempt  him  from  his  duty;  nor  could 
the  extremities  of  poverty  or  want  depress  his  spirits,  or  make 
him  discontented  and  uneasy.  Amidst  the  most  violent  storms 
of  adversity,  he  stood  calm  and  serene ;  and  amidst  the  insults 
of  his  haughty  and  cruel  enemies,  he  was  unmoved  by  passion 
or  anger.  In  a  word,  with  the  most  unparalleled  meekness  and 
fortitude,  and  with  the  most  constant  affection  for  those  in 
whose  stead  he  suffered,  he  met  the  rage  of  devils,  the  frowns 
of  justice,  and  the  terrors  of  death  itself.  Such  are  the  out- 
lines of  his  character,  the  general  expressions  of  his  temper  and 
conduct. 

Now,  to  follow  him,  is  to  copy  after  this  his  perfect  example. 
It  is,  with  respect  to  God,  to  take  pains  to  come  at  the  know- 
ledge of  his  will ;  to  converse  with  him  in  holy  duties,  and  by 
the  various  mediums  of  intercourse  he  hath  appointed;  to  rely 
firmly  on  his  faithfulness  in  adversity,  and  gratefully  to  acknow- 
ledge his  goodness  in  prosperity ;  to  avoid  sin  as  the  greatest 
evil,  and  to  aim  sincerely  to  please  and  glorify  him.  As  to  men : 
to  follow  Christ,  is  to  conduct  ourselves  with  prudence  and  cir- 
cumspection, with  integrity  and  truth,  with  charity  and  kind- 
ness :  in  every  relation  and  character  of  life,  and  in  all  our  deal- 
ings and  concerns  with  one  another.  And  as  to  ourselves  :  to 
follow  him,  is  to  be  sober  and  temperate  in  the  use  of  all  our 
worldly  enjoyments  ;  to  be  humble  and  condescending,  when 
elevated  above  others  by  our  attainments  and  successes ;  to  be 
meek  and  forgiving  amidst  our  provocations  to  anger  and  re- 
sentment ;  to  be  contented  with  the  things  which  we  have,  and 
patient  under  the  afflictions  which  we  suffer ;  to  mingle  cheer- 
fulness with  gravity ;  to  make  religion  the  grand  object  of  our 
pursuit ;  and  in  a  dependence  on  the  grace  of  God,  to  persevere 
in  our  duty  to  the  end. 

High  and  noble  attainments  these,  and  which  no  mere  man 
hath  ever  possessed  in  their  utmost  perfection  !  Nor  can  we  ex- 
pect to  succeed  in  any  of  these  instances  of  duty,  without  suf- 
fering many  discouragements  in  the  attempt.  Satan,  the  world, 
and  what  is  still  more  to  be  dreaded,  our  own  foolish  and  cor- 
rupt hearts,  will  unite  their  utmost  force  to  obstruct  us  in  our 


ATTENDING  RELIGION'.  115 

course.  Yet,  if  we  will  be  his  disciples,  it  must  be  our  resolu- 
tion, amidst  every  discom-agement  and  imperfection,  to  make  it 
our  aim  thus  to  follow  Christ. 

And  now,  having  considered  the  several  duties  enjoined  in 
the  text,  and  the  difficulties,  both  real  and  imaginary,  which  at- 
tend them  ;  let  me  ask,  what  man  who  duly  weighs  these  things, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  enters  into  the  spirit  of  them,  can 
have  any  objection  to  the  becoming  a  disciple  of  Jesus  ?  His 
service  is  most  reasonable,  advantageous,  and  honourable.  We 
have  every  imaginable  consideration  to  engage  us  to  enter  upon 
it,  and  to  animate  us  in  it.  His  yoke  is  easy,  and  his  burden  is 
light  a.  Nay,  more  than  this  ;  his  ways  are  ways  of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all  his  paths  are  peace  b.  But  I  shall  not  enter  on 
these  things  at  present :  they  will  be  the  subjects  of  the  follow- 
ing discourses. 

In  the  mean  while  let  us  examine  ourselves,  whether  we  are 
the  disciples  of  Christ.  Is  it  our  concern,  in  the  sense  our  Sa- 
viour is  to  be  understood,  to  deny  or  please  ourselves  ?  to  take 
up  the  cross,  or  to  shun  it  ?  to  follow  Christ,  or  the  world  ? 
These  are  interesting  questions.  It  will  be  happy  if  we  can 
make  a  favourable  reply.  Be  the  answer,  however,  what  it 
may,  God  grant  that  henceforth  we  may  be  persuaded,  by  the 
alluring  influence  of  divine  grace,  to  make  his  service  the  object 
of  our  main  attention,  and  most  cheerful  pursuit ! 


DISCOURSE  VI. 


THE  DIFFICULTIES  OF  RELIGION  SUR- 
MOUNTED. 

Matt.  xi.  36. — For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light. 

oo  spake  the  blessed  Jesus  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  when  he 

condescended  himself,  with  his  own  kind  lips,  to  publish  the 

a  Matt.  xi.  30.  b  Prov.  iii.  17. 

H  2 


116  THE  DIFFICULTIES* 

glad  tidings  of  salvation.  His  ministry,  it  seems,  had  met  witTi 
very  ungrateful  treatment,  from  those  very  cities  wherein  most 
of  his  mighty  works  were  done.  Chorazin,  Bethsaida  and 
Capernaum  had  not  repented  of  their  sins,  but  obstinately  per- 
sisted in  unbelief.  He  rejoices,  however,  that  there  were  those, 
even  among  the  mean  and  illiterate,  upon  whom  the  blessings 
df  religion  were  bestowed  ;  and,  acknowledging  the  distinguish- 
ing goodness  of  God  herein,  he  adds.  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  thy  sight  a.  Upon  which  he  takes  occasion, 
very  explicitly,  to  assert  his  own  character,  and  the  important 
ends  of  his  mission,  that  all  things  were  delivered  unto  him  of 
his  Father,  and  that  he  was  authorised  to  reveal  him,  and  his 
grace  to  whomsoever  he  would  b.  Agreeable,  therefore,  to  the- 
commission  he  had  received,  he  applies  himself  immediately  to 
the  duties  of  his  prophetic  character,  earnestly  entreating  all 
who  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  to  come  to  him,  to  take  his  yokt 
upon  them,  and  to  submit  to  his  instruction ;  assuring  them  at 
the  same  time,  that  they  shall  find  rest  unto  their  souls  c.  For^ 
says  he  in  the  text,  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light. 

Some  think  our  Saviour  here  refers  to  the  ceremonial  law ; 
and  that  as  he  is  speaking  more  immediately  to  Jews,  he  intends 
the  advantage  of  an  exemption  from  that  law,  which  they  would 
obtain  by  becoming  his  disciples.  And  certain  it  is,  that  the 
observation  of  those  rites  was  a  yoke,  which  neither  they  nor 
their  fathers  were  able  to  bear,  and  from  which  Christ  did  at  the 
proper  time  release  his  followers  :  wherefore,  he  might  be  justly 
said  on  this  account,  to  have  given  them  rest.  And  since  the 
new  dispensation  he  established  in  the  room  of  it,  is  plain  and 
familiar,  and  the  institutions  of  it  few  and  easy  to  be  perform- 
ed ;  his  yoke  might  with  good  reason  be  styled  an  easy  yoke. 
It  is  certain  likewise,  that  the  Pharisees  and  teachers  of  the 
law,  did  by  their  various  traditions,  unwarrantably  add  weight 
to  the  burden  which  Moses  had  laid  upon  the  people.  As 
therefore  our  Lord  on  all  occasions,  very  freely  exposed  and 
condemned  these  iniquitous  encroachments  of  ecclesiastical 
power,  he  might  be  properly  said,  in  this  respect  also,  to  have 
given  them  rest.  While  at  the  same  time,  the  burden  he  im- 
posed on  his  disciples  was  light  in  comparison  with  theirs ;  since 
a  Vei-.  26.  b  Ver.  27.  c  A'^er.  28,  29. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  1 17 

what  he  required  was  in  itself"  most  fit  and  reasonable,  however 
a  compHance  with  it  might  expose  them  to  some  few  tempo- 
rary inconveniences. 

But,  though  all  this  may  be  included  in  the  text,  it  does  not 
come  up  to  the  full  sense  of  it.  Something  of  still  greater  im- 
portance is  intended.  Our  Lord  had  been  lamenting  the  im- 
penitence and  irreUgion  of  the  generality  of  his  hearers :  and 
it  is  but  natural  to  conclude  from  thence,  that  when  he  presently 
after  invites  men  to  come  to  him,  and  take  his  yoke  upon  them, 
he  means  to  recommend  the  opposite  temper  and  practice  to 
that  he  had  been  deploring.  Wherefore,  by  those  who  labour 
and  are  heavy  laden,  he  must  intend,  not  such  only  who  were 
weary  of  Jewish  ceremonies  and  traditions  ;  but  all  those  who 
are  tired  of  the  galling  yoke  of  sin,  and  borne  down  with  the 
guilt  of  it.  "  Come  unto  me,  and  I  will  give  you  rest,  that  is, 
believe  in  me,  and  I  will  set  you  free  from  the  base  servitude 
of  your  lusts,  and  from  the  dread  you  feel  of  the  divine  wrath. 
Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of  me,  that  is,  be  my  disci- 
ples and  imitate  my  example,  yor  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart. 
And  though  my  service  be  on  some  accounts  a  yoke,  and  though 
some  disagreeable  circumstances  which  attend  it,  a  burden  ,- 
yet  that  yoke  is  easy,  that  burden  is  light.  Whatever  I  require 
of  you  is  most  reasonable,  and  my  grace  will  render  the  per- 
formance of  it  not  only  practicable,  but  pleasant.  It  is  an  easy 
service,  or  gracious  a,  (as  some  render  the  word)  not  hard  and 
severe,  but  mild  and  gentle.  And  as  to  suffering  for  my  sake, 
which  may  be  your  lot,  think  it  not  a  burden,  or  however  be 
assured  it  is  but  a  light  burden  ;  for  I  will  give  you  strength  to 
endure  it,  and  will  in  the  end  reward  your  patience  and  love 
with  a  never-fading  crown  of  glory." 

What  it  is  to  be  a  Christian,  or  as  our  Lord  here  expresses 
it,  to  take  his  yoke  upon  us,  I  shall  not  stay  particularly  to  shew. 
It  hath  been  attempted  at  large  in  a  former  discourse.  It  is 
to  believe  in  Christ  as  our  Saviour  and  friend,  and  to  submit 
to  him  as  our  Lord  and  sovereign.  It  is  to  rely  upon  his  me- 
diation and  righteousness,  for  our  acceptance  with  God,  and  to 
make  his  will  the  rule  of  our  lives.  It  is  to  profess  his  doctrine, 
to  conform  to  his  iustitutions,  and  if  he  call  us  to  it,  to  endure 


118  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

sufferings  for  his  sake.  Now,  it  is  acknowledged,  considering 
the  corruption  of  the  human  heart,  the  opposition  of  Satan,  the 
intoxicating  nature  of  worldly  pleasures,  the  force  of  bad  exam- 
ple, the  contempt  in  which  religion  is  held  by  the  generality 
of  mankind,  and  many  other  circumstances  which  might  be 
mentioned;  it  is  acknowledged,  I  say,  considering  these  things, 
that  no  small  difficulty  and  self-denial  must  attend  the  service 
of  Christ. 

Whatever,  therefore,  of  this  sort,  the  figures  of  a  yoke  and 
a  burden  may  suggest,  or  can  indeed  with  any  reason  be  sup- 
posed, we  will  admit.  Let  imagination,  yea  even  prejudice  it- 
self, magnify  these  difficulties,  and  set  them  in  every  possible 
light.  Figure  to  yourselves  the  Christian,  in  the  character  of  a 
soldier,  contending  with  the  powers  of  the  world,  and  the  prince 
of  darkness,  plunged  in  all  the  horrors  of  war,  and  fighting  his 
way  to  heaven,  through  reproach,  persecution,  and  death.  Be- 
hold him  wrestling  with  sin  and  sense,  with  the  evil  passions  of 
his  heart,  and  the  irregular  appetites  of  nature;  by  many  pain- 
ful struggles  bringing  under  his  body,  and  by  reiterated  blows, 
keeping  it  in  subjection  a.  View  him  pressing  on  in  the  course 
of  duty,  with  all  the  attention  and  eagerness  of  a  racer;  reach- 
ing forth  to  the  things  which  are  before  Z>,  straining  every  nerve, 
and  aiming  with  unremitting  ardour  at  the  prize.  In  a  word ; 
suppose  him  for  once,  like  his  Master,  a  man  of  sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief,  clad  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  beset  with 
sad  and  numerous  temptations,  and  even  denied,  for  a  while, 
the  enlivening  presence  of  his  God.  Still  it  remains  true,  that 
the  yoke  of  Christ  is  easy,  and  his  burden  light.  Considerations 
there  are,  enough  to  balance  every  discouragement  which  hath 
been  mentioned. 

These  considerations  let  me  now  lay  before  you,  and  then 
make  some  suitable  improvement  of  the  whole. 

I.  The  service  of  Christ  is  in  itself  highly  reasonable.  What 
one  thing  hath  he  required  of  his  disciples,  which  their  judg- 
ment and  conscience  do  not,  upon  the  most  deliberate  reflections, 
approve,  as  most  fit  and  becoming  ? 

1.  He  hath  commanded  us,  as  hath  been  shewn  in  the  former 
discourse,  to  deny  ourselves,  that  is,  to  lay  an  absolute  restraint 
a  1  Cor.  ix,  27,  i  Phil.  iii.  13. 


OE  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED,  119 

on  all  irregular  passions  and  appetites,  and  to  that  end,  to  forego 
occasionally  such  gratifications  as  are  in  themselves  lawful.  And 
should  not  this  be  done  ?  Is  it  not  our  duty,  our  interest  to 
comply?  Can  we  hesitate  a  moment  upon  the  question,  whe- 
ther pride,  avarice,  lust,  envy,  malevolence,  anger,  and  revenge, 
ought  to  be  soothed  and  cherished  in  our  breasts,  or  mortified 
and  subdued  ?  If  they  are  in  themselves  evil,  if  they  are  con- 
trary to  the  express  command  of  God,  and  if  they  are  hurtful  to 
our  own  interests  both  here  and  hereafter,  hath  not  Christ  done 
right,  and  approved  himself  our  real  friend,  in  pressing  this  in- 
junction upon  us,  however  disagreeable  to  depraved  nature  ? 
Had  the  reverse  of  this  been  the  case,  had  he  required  us  to 
give  full  scope  to  our  corrupt  inclinations,  and  to  gratify  them 
in  every  instance  which  offered  ;  had  he,  for  example,  com- 
manded us  to  be  covetous,  envious  and  revengeful,  lewd,  fierce 
and  intemperate,  should  we  not  have  had  just  cause  to  complain, 
that  we  were  hardly  dealt  by  ? 

And  since  the  violence  and  turbulency  of  our  passions,  is 
scarcely  to  be  subdued  without  the  exercise  of  severe  and  pru- 
dent discipline,  is  it  not  highly  reasonable,  yea  necessary  on 
certain  occasions,  to  preclude  ourselves  from  pleasures,  which 
are,  in  their  own  nature,  innocent  and  good  ?  If  the  soldier, 
eager  to  obtain  the  rewards  of  victory,  must  prepare  himself  for 
the  toils  and  hardships  of  war,  by  a  voluntary  abstinence  from 
the  soft  indulgences  of  sense,  why  should  it  be  thought  strange, 
that  religion,  which  is  no  other  than  a  warfare  with  our  most 
dangerous  enemies,  should  oblige  the  Christian  to  the  like  con- 
duct? especially  since  his  Master  hath  set  him  an  example  of 
self-denial,  in  regard  of  the  innocent  and  desirable  enjoyments 
of  life,  though  he  stood  not  in  need  of  these  exercises  as  we 
do,  to  prepare  him  for  the  work  and  duty  he  had  undertaken. 
The  pleasure  likewise  which  attends  every  advantage  gained 
over  our  spiritual  enemies,  and  the  animating  prospect  of  that 
crown  of  life,  which  Christ  hath  promised  to  him  who  is  faith- 
ful unto  death,  may  well  reconcile  us  to  this  part  of  his  service, 
however  difficult  and  painful.     Again, 

2.  Christ  hath  commanded  us  to  take  up  our  cross,  tliat  is, 
to  endure  patiently  whatever  afflictions  may  bcfal  us,  especially 
those  to  which  a  profession  of  religion  may  expose  us.     From 


120  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

the  common  infirmities  and  troubles  of  life,  ^^e  have  surely  no 
reason  to  expect  the  Christian  character  should  secure  us.  A 
quiet  submission,  therefore,  to  them,  is  equally  a  dictate  of  na- 
ture and  religion.  And  as  to  those  of  an  inward  or  spiritual 
kind,  they  are  no  just  occasions  of  offence  at  the  service  of 
Christ,  since  they  are  not  owing  to  that  cause,  but  to  others  of 
quite  a  different  nature,  that  is,  to  gloominess  of  constitution, 
to  unbelief,  to  the  conflict  which  we  are  necessarily  obliged  to 
maintain  with  our  lusts,  or  to  the  withdrawment  of  the  divine 
presence,  which  is  the  effect  of  sin,  and  is  designed  also  as  a 
mean  to  promote  our  real  good.  These  crosses,  therefore,  it  is 
most  reasonable  we  should  bear.  And  then,  as  to  the  troubles 
in  which  a  faithful  attachment  to  truth,  to  conscience,  and  to  the 
interest  of  Christ,  may  occasionally  involve  us,  and  which  is 
what  our  Saviour  chiefly  intends,  these  owe  their  existence,  as 
hath  been  shewn,  to  the  malice  of  Satan,  and  the  malevolence  of 
wicked  men,  and  they  are  over-ruled  by  Providence,  to  answer 
very  wise  and  important  purposes. 

It  is,  therefore,  by  no  means  strange,  that  a  disciple  of  Christ 
is  required  to  take  up  his  cross.  It  is  fit  he  should.  It  is  his 
duty.  It  is,  upon  the  whole,  his  interest.  Does  not  reason 
teach,  that  a  lesser  advantage  should  be  foregone,  when  it  stands 
in  the  way  of  a  greater  ?  and  that  as  to  suffering,  it  is  better,  as 
our  Saviour  expresses  it,  that  one  of  the  members  shovld  perish^ 
than  that  the  whole  body  should  be  cast  into  hell  a  ?  And  though 
it  may  seem  a  violation  of  the  law  of  nature,  to  expose  ourselves 
to  poverty,  reproach,  and  death,  when  it  is  in  our  power  to  escape 
those  evils,  yet  when  the  duty  we  owe  to  God,  our  obligations 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  our  own  most  important  interests 
in  another  world  are  at  stake,  it  were  surely  the  most  extrava- 
gant madness  and  folly,  to  secure  to  ourselves  outward  ease  and 
happiness,  yea  even  life  itself,  at  so  prodigious  an  expence. 

But,  when  we  take  into  view,  the  supports  and  comforts  pro- 
mised to  the  suffering  Christian,  and  the  rewards  of  unutterable 
bliss  and  glory  laid  up  for  him  in  heaven,  the  cross  surely  is 
rather  to  be  coveted  than  shunned.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  is 
the  language  of  Christ  to  all  his  persecuted  disciples,  there  is 
no  mxm  who  hath  left  house,  or  parents,  or  brethren,  or  wife,  or 

a  Matt.  V,  29. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  121 

children,  for  the  kingdom  of  God's  sake,  who  shall  not  receive 
manifold  more  in  this  present  time,  and  in  the  world  to  come 
life  everlasting  a.  And  with  all  this  light  and  splendour 
around  us,  we  well  know  how  to  account  for  those  otherwise 
strange  passages  of  Scripture,  wherein  we  read  of  the  primitive 
Christians,  glorying  in  tribulation  b.  To  take  up  the  cross 
then,  is  a  most  reasonable  precept.  And  so  likewise  is  that 
precept, 

3.  Oi  following  Christ,  that  is,  learning  of  him,  and  aiming 
at  a  perfect  conformity  to  his  will  and  example.  Can  it  be 
questioned,  whether  we  ought  implicitly  to  receive  his  doctrine, 
who  brings  with  him  such  clear  and  incontestible  proofs  of  a  di- 
vine mission  ?  Or  whether  we  should  cheerfully  accept  of  mercy 
at  his  hands,  since  in  this  way  it  is  so  honourable  to  God,  and 
so  infinitely  beneficial  to  ovirselves?  Can  it  be  questioned, 
whether  so  fair  a  pattern  as  that  he  hath  set  before  us,  ought  to 
be  copied ;  a  pattern,  which,  though  we  cannot  fully  come  up  to 
it,  yet  charms  the  heart  of  every  attentive  and  truly  serious  be- 
holder? Will  any  one  say,  that  Christ  is  an  unreasonable  or 
hard  Master,  in  requiring  us  to  cultivate  humility,  contentment, 
patience,  meekness,  and  love,  to  seek  the  good  of  our  fellow- 
creatures,  to  make  the  glory  of  God  the  scope  of  our  actions, 
and  to  consider  the  divine  favour  as  our  chief  and  ultimate  fe- 
licity ? 

In  like  manner,  is  there  any  just  ground  to  find  fault  with 
the  institutions  of  Christ,  as  being  either  tedious  or  trifling? 
The  forms  he  hath  prescribed  are  plain  and  easy,  the  signs  na- 
tural and  expressive,  and  the  temper  of  the  heart  such  exactly 
as  is  suited  to  our  condition  as  sinners,  and  to  the  unparalleled 
condescensions  of  his  grace  as  our  Saviour.  Even  a  Jew,  though 
the  rites  of  that  dispensation  were  numerous,  expensive  and  bur- 
densome, had  no  cause,  upon  the  whole,  to  dispute  the  wisdom 
and  goodness  of  the  great  Legislator.  How  much  less  reason 
then  have  we  to  complain,  who  are  not  solemnly  required,  at 
the  peril  of  our  lives,  to  bring  up  our  flocks  and  herds  to  the 
altar  of  the  Lord ;  but  are  sweetly  allured  and  persuaded,  to 
present  our  hearts  mito  God  a  living  sacrifice,  holy  and  accept- 

a  Xuke  xviii.  29,  30.  h  Rom.  v.  3. 


122  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

c6/e,  through  Jesus  Christ  a !  The  service,  then,  is  in  itself 
most  reasonable.     Whence,  let  us  now  proceed  to  consider, 

II.  Our  unspeakable  obligations  to  him  who  hath  demanded 
this  service  of  us. 

The  fitness  of  any  service  is  itself  a  sufficient  reason  for  our 
compliance.  But  if  it  be  required  of  us  by  a  wise  man,  a  good 
man,  a  man  of  eminence,  a  friend,  a  relation,  a  brother,  a  parent, 
our  obligations  to  obedience  will  be  hereby  greatly  heightened 
and  increased.  The  very  idea  of  the  character  which  imposes 
it,  will  soften  what  might  otherwise  be  deemed  an  imposition, 
and  give  it  the  pleasing  denomination  of  a  favour,  a  privilege, 
an  honour.  Such  is  the  case  with  respect  to  the  yoke  of  reli- 
gion. It  is  itself  easy,  and  more  than  this,  it  is  not  forced  on 
our  necks  by  the  severe  and  rigorous  arm  of  tyranny  and  oppres- 
sion, or  of  ignorance  and  superstition  ;  but  by  the  kind  and 
gentle  hand  of  him,  to  whom  we  are  infinitely  obliged,  and  who 
is  full  of  grace  and  truth  h.  It  is  the  yoke  of  Christ,  of  him 
who  made  us,  who  upholds  us  in  our  existence,  who  gave  his 
life  for  us  :  of  him,  whose  authority,  wisdom  and  goodness 
Stand  confirmed  by  unquestionable  evidence. 

Behold,  Christian,  the  adorable  Saviour  !  Survey  the  beau- 
ties of  his  countenance,  contemplate  the  grace  of  his  heart,  re- 
flect on  the  bounty  of  his  hands  !  And  then  say,  whether  the 
commands  his  lips  pronounce,  can  ever  sound  harsh  in  your  ears, 
or  ever  be  ungrateful  to  your  inclinations.  What,  O  what 
hath  he  done  for  you  ?  rather  should  I  say,  What  hath  he  not 
done  for  you  ?  In  all  your  guilt  and  misery  he  saw  you,  he  pi- 
tied you,  he  ran  to  your  relief.  The  bliss  and  glory  he  pos- 
sessed in  heaven  could  not  detain  him  there,  such  was  his  love  I 
— when  your  redemption  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  descend 
thence.  No,  nor  could  the  direful  agonies  he  had  in  prospect, 
shake  his  resolution,  or  hold  him  back  from  the  great  undertak- 
ing. He  bowed  his  willing  neck,  and  patiently,  yea  cheerfully, 
for  your  sake,  took  the  yoke  of  human  nature  on  him,  with  all 
its  sinless  infirmities.  He  was  made  of  a  womaji,  made  under 
the  laiv,  to  redeem  you  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  and  to  entitle 
you  to  the  adoption  of  sons  c.  On  him  was  laid  the  heavy  bur- 
den of  your  iniquities,  and  of  the  sons  of  the  mighty  there  was 
a  Rom,  xii.  I,  b  J»hn  i.  li.  c  G»l.  iv.  +,  5. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  123 

not  one,  either  able  or  willing,  to  help  him.  He  bore  your 
griefs,  he  carried  j'our  sorro^ys.  '  He  pleased  not  himself,  but 
as  it  is  written,  the  reproaches  of  them  that  reproached  thee, 
fell  on  me  a.'  For  you  he  lived,  for  you  he  died,  for  you  he 
rose  again.  For  you  he  now  lives  in  heaven,  to  shower  innu- 
merable blessings  upon  you  in  your  way  through  this  world,  and 
to  prepare  mansions  of  glory  for  you,  against  your  arrival  at  that 
blissful  state. 

And  can  you,  after  all  the  evidence  you  have  of  his  dignity 
and  glory,  dispute  his  authority  to  lay  this  yoke  upon  you?  Or, 
after  all  the  proofs  he  hath  given  of  his  mildness  and  love,  hesi- 
tate one  moment,  at  your  obligations,  to  submit  to  it?  Is  not  he 
who  requires  you  to  hear  and  obey  him,  the  prophet  whom  the. 
Lord  your  God  hath  raised  up  unto  you  b,  and  in  whom  are 
hid  all  tlie  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  c  ?  Is  not  he  who 
demands  your  allegiance  and  subjection,  the  Prince  who  hath 
obtained  your  liberties  for  you,  at  the  expence  of  his  blood  ?  A 
Master  who  hath  too  much  gentleness  in  his  nature  to  impose  a 
bard  service  on  you  ;  and  a  Friend  who  loves  you  too  well,  to 
expect  any  other  office  at  your  hands,  but  what  reason  dictates, 
and  gratitude  approves  ?  In  a  word,  is  he  not  that  righteous 
Judge,  who  will,  of  his  infinite  grace,  reward  all  your  labour  of 
love  in  another  world  with  a  crown  of  unfading  glory  ? 

And  now  say,  whether  these  considerations,  when  impressed 
upon  the  heart  by  a  lively  faith,  accompanied  with  a  divine  in- 
jflucnce,  may  not  well  render  the  yoke  of  Christ  easy^  and  his 
burden  light. 

PART   II. 

As  a  farther  motive  to  animate  us  to  our  duty,  it  is  to  be  re- 
membered, 

III.  That  when  Christ  invites  men  into  his  service,  he  means 
not  to  leave  them  to  their  own  strength. 

They  who  enter  the  lists  with  sin  and  sense,  under  the  ban- 
ner of  Jesus,  the  great  Captain  of  salvation,  shall  not  fail  to  be 
supported  by  him  in  the  heat  of  the  battle.  His  power  is  al- 
mighty, and  he  hath  promised  it  shall  rest  upon  them.  My 
grace  is  sufficient  for  thee  :  for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in 

a  Rom.  XV.  3.  b  Deut.  xyiii.  13.  c  Col.  ii.  3. 


124  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

weakness  a.  Blessed  promise !  If  it  were  not  for  tliis,  liow 
soon  should  we  faint  and  tire  in  the  path  of  duty  !  how  soon 
should  we  yield  to  the  power  and  rage  of  the  enemy  !  how 
soon  should  we  sink  under  the  weight  of  our  own  fears  !  Dif- 
ficult it  is  indeed  to  subdue  corruptions,  which,  resisting  all 
the  reasonings  of  philosophy,  have  obstinately  triumphed  over 
mankind.  But  through  Christ  who  strengiheneth  us,  we  can  do 
all  things  b.  Difficult  it  is  to  make  a  bold  stand  against  the 
world,  its  snares  and  temptations,  its  passions  and  prejudices. 
But  having  hira  on  our  side,  who  hath  said,  Be  of  good  cheer, 
I  have  overcome  the  world  c,  the  conquest  will,  it  must  be  easy. 
Difficult  it  is,  in  a  word,  to  support  the  heavy  weight  of  afflic- 
tion, which  Providence  sometimes  judges  it  necessary  to  lay 
upon  us  ;  and  especially  to  resist  unto  blood,  in  the  cause  of 
truth  and  religion.  But  can  it  be  imagined,  that  the  merciful 
Saviour  will  call  men  to  suffer  for  his  sake,  and  when  he  has 
done  so,  desert  them  in  the  hour  of  trial  ?  Have  not  some  of  the 
most  timorous  of  his  disciples,  strengthened  by  his  grace,  ap- 
proved themselves  champions  on  these  tremendous  occasions? 
The  habit,  it  is  true,  in  which  religion  at  such  times  appears, 
is  by  no  means  pleasing  to  an  eye  of  sense.  Nature  starts  back 
at  the  sight.  The  yoke  seems  hard,  and  the  burden  heavy. 
But  faith,  that  grand  principle  of  religion,  when  in  its  full 
strength,  can  counteract  all  the  false  reasonings  of  sense,  and  con- 
vince a  man  that  it  is  his  interest,  in  the  face  of  every  possible 
discouragement,  to  follow  Christ. 

I  might  here  describe  particularly,  the  various  assistances  af- 
forded Christians  in  their  duty,  and  the  many  seasonable  supports 
vouchsafed  them  under  their  afflictions;  though  the  subject  is  too 
copious  to  be  fully  discussed.  When  God  in  his  providence  ap- 
points them  to  important  and  arduous  services,  he  often  surprises 
them  with  unexpected  communications  of  divine  grace.  How 
amazingly  arc  the  powers  of  their  minds,  on  some  occasions  espe- 
cially, strengthened  and  enlarged  !  Their  breasts  steeled  with  an 
uncommon  degree  of  fortitude,  patience,  and  constancy  !  And 
their  animal  nature  itself,  rendered  capable  of  enduring  extraor- 
dinary pain,  fatigue,  and  labour  !  So  that,  blessed  with  a  large 
diare  of  the   comforts  of  religion,   and  fired   with   a  generous 

M  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  i  Phil.  iv.  13.  c  John  xvi.  33. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  125 

zeal  for  til e  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  mankind,  we  have 
seen  them  surmount  the  greatest  difficulties  in  their  course  of 
duty,  and  perform  wonders  in  the  service  of  their  divine  Master. 
In  like  manner,  as  to  afflictions ;  v/hat  an  amazing  flow  of  spi- 
rits have  some  Christians  enjoyed,  amidst  the  severest  outward 
trials  !  What  soUd  peace  and  satisfaction  have  they  felt  in  their 
consciences  !  What  firm  confidence  in  the  providence  and  grace 
of  God  !  And  what  enlivening  prospects  of  a  future  happy  im- 
mortality !  God  has  put  underneath  them  his  everlasting  arms, 
and  poured  such  consolation  into  their  breasts,  as  have  more 
than  compensated  all  the  pain  and  distress,  attending  their 
sharpest  conflicts  with  sin  and  the  world. 

Nor  are  we  without  the  noblest  encouragements  in  the  word 
of  God,  to  expect  such  aids  and  supports  in  the  service  of 
Christ.  W^hat  divine  energy  is  there  in  these  animating  words, 
dictated  by  the  love,  and  confirmed  by  the  faithfulness  of  a  God  ! 
lllien  tJiou  passest  throngh  tlie  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee ;  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee  :  when  thou 
walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shall  not  be  burnt ;  neither  shall 
the  flame  kindle  upon  thee  a.  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with 
thee :  be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God :  I  will  strengtheti 
thee,  yea  I  will  help  thee,  yea  I  will  uphold  thee,  with  the  right 
hand  of  my  righteousness  b.  Can  faith  hear  such  promises 
pronounced  in  its  ears,  without  boldly  saying,  The  Lord  is  my 
helper  c  ?  Did  the  three  Jewish  youths,  who  suffered  so  emi- 
nently in  the  cause  of  truth,  judge  the  yoke  of  religion  on  tliis 
account  to  be  severe,  or  its  burden  intolerable?  We  are  not 
careful,  say  they  to  the  tyrant,  to  answer  thee  in  this  matter. 
If  it  fj€  so,  our  God  whom  we  serve,  is  able  to  deliver  us  from 
the  burning  fiery  furnace,  and  he  will  deliver  us  out  of  thine 
hand,  O  liing.  But  if  not,  be  it  known  unto  thee,  O  king, 
that  ive  will  not  serve  thy  gods,  nor  v'orship  the  golden  image 
which  thou  hast  setup  d.  And  what  was  the  issue  ?  when  they 
passed  through  the  midst  of  the  fire,  they  had  no  hurt;  for  the 
Son  of  God,  whose  servants  they  were,  was  with  them.  Or 
did  the  apostles  conceive  any  ill  prejudices  against  the  doctrine 
»r  service  of  their  Master,  because  of  the  extraordinary  trials  of 

a  Isa.  xliij.  2.  b  Chap.  xli.  10. 

c  Hub.  xiii.  $.  d  Dao.  iii.  16—18. 


126  "THE  DIFFTCULTJES 

an  outward  kind,  to  which  their  profession  exposed  them? 
JVe  are,  say  they,  ^or  his  sake  killed  all  the  day  long,  and  ac- 
counted as  sheep  for  the  slaughter.  Nevertheless,  with  what  un- 
affected cheerfuhiess  do  they  add.  In  all  these  things,  in  tribu- 
lation, distress,  persecution,  famine,  nakedness,  peril,  sword,  we 
are  more  than  conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us  a.  Which 
leads  me  to  observe, 

IV.  That  this  yoke,  this  burden  has  been  borne  by  many 
who  have  gone  before  us ;  and  having  therefore  been  tried,  it 
is  plain  it  is  not  insupportable. 

God  has  had  a  people  firmly  attached  to  his  interests,  and 
cheerfully  disposed  to  bis  service,  in  every  age  from  the  very 
beginning.  A  few  there  were  in  the  old  world,  who  dared  to 
call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  at  a  time  when  the  earth 
was  as  generally  overwhelmed  with  infidelity  and  vice,  as  it  after- 
wards was  with  the  waters  of  the  flood.  There  was  an  Enoch 
who  walked  with  God,  when  all  mankind  were  in  confederacy 
against  God ;  and  a  Noah  who  preached  righteousness,  when 
not  one  could  be  prevailed  on  to  listen  to  his  instructions. 
Nor  do  we  find  that  either  of  them,  uncommon  as  their  difficul- 
ties were,  liiinted  in  the  service  of  their  divine  Master,  or  even 
dropt  a  complaint,  that  it  was  too  painful  and  arduous  to  be  per- 
formed. The  submission  required  of  Abraham,  when  command- 
ed to  follow  God  into  a  strange  land,  and  with  his  own  hands  to  of- 
fer up  his  only  son,  one  should  have  been  ready  to  deem  most 
severe  and  impracticable.  But  a  firm  faith  in  the  promised 
Messiah,  whose  day  he  saw  afar  off",  and  the  sight  of  which  made 
him  glad,  softened  his  heart  into  an  immediate  compliance  with 
the  will  of  Heaven.  Moses  likewise,  amidst  all  the  wealth 
and  gaiety  of  a  splendid  court,  and  all  the  alarming  frowns  of 
tyranny  and  persecution,  cheerfully  bowed  his  neck  to  the  yoke 
of  Christ,  choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of 
God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season  ,•  and  esteem- 
ing the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the  treasures  in 
Egypt ;  for  he  had  respect  unto  the  recompence  of  reward  b. 
Nor  were  there  wanting  innumerable  instances,  all  through  the 
times  of  the  judges  and  the  prophets,  down  to  the  happy  pe- 

a  Rom.  viii.  33—37.  b  Heb.  xi.  25,  26. 


OF  REILIGION  SURMOUNTED.  lj2T 

liod  in  which  Christ  himself  appeared  ;  of  persons,  who,  though 
they  enjoyed  not  those  distinguishing  advantages  of  knowledge 
and  instruction  which  we  possess,  yet  having  their  hearts  mould- 
ed into  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  had  resolution  enough,  in  the 
face  of  the  greatest  opposition,  to  profess  their  faith  in  the  ex- 
pected Messiah. 

And  how  it  was  during  the  time  he  sojourned  here  on  earth, 
sacred  history  sufficiently  shews.  Every  imaginable  discourage- 
ment attended  his  service,  arising  from  the  poverty  of  his  ap- 
pearance, the  general  prejudices  which  prevailed  against  hira, 
and  the  imperfect  apprehensions  which  were  formed  of  his  doc- 
trine; yet  there  were  a  few  who  faithfully  adhered  to  him 
amidst  all  these  difficulties.  And  though  the  clearer  liijht  of 
divine  truth,  which  afterwards  irradiated  the  minds  of  these  fevr 
disciples,  did  not  disperse  but  rather  increase  that  storm  of  per- 
secution, which  had  been  gathering  over  their  heads ;  yet  their 
number  multiplied  exceedingly.  So,  that  what  is  commonly 
accounted  the  most  burdensome  and  painful  part  of  Christ's  ser- 
vice, I  mean  suffering,  was,  by  tlie  generality  of  Christians, 
coveted  as  their  highest  honour,  and  gloried  in  as  their  brightest 
crown.  So  readily  did  they  assent  to  the  truth  of  what  their 
Master  had  assured  them,  that  '  his  yoke  is  easy,  and  his  bur- 
den light !'  And  witnesses  without  number  have  arisen,  in 
every  age  and  country  where  the  gospel  has  been  preached  since 
that  time,  to  authenticate  this  sacred  declaration. 

But  why  need  we  go  from  home  to  collect  evidence  upon  this 
point  ?  Let  every  man  say,  who  has  felt  the  power  and  tasted 
the  sweetness  of  religion  (and  surely  there  are  yet  some  such 
among  us),  whether  the  words  of  Jesus  have  not  been  sufficient- 
ly verified  in  his  own  experience?  They  Are  true  ;  every  serious 
Christian  will  affirm  them  so,  whatever  painful  struggles  the  re- 
mains of  sin  may  daily  occasion  within,  or  whatever  cruel  oppo- 
sition he  may  endure  from  a  wicked  world  without. — The  yoke 
then  is  tolerable,  since  it  has,  and  still  is  borne  by  many,  not 
with  patience  only,  but  cheerfulness  and  pleasure.  It  is  also  to 
be  observed, 

V.  In  reference  at  least  to  some  of  the  duties  and  suffigrings 
required  of  a  Christian,  that  hard  as  this  yoke  may  at  first  seem, 
yet  being  used,  it  will  become  more  easy. 


128  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

I  am  sensible  that  it  is  not  one  good  action  or  the  repetition  of 
it,  which  will  constitute  a  man  a  real  Christian,  that  is,  give 
hira  a  new  nature,  or  make  that  pleasing  to  him  from  which  he 
•was  before  entirely  averse.  Yet  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  how  the 
frequent  exercise  of  a  principle  of  religion  already  implanted  in. 
the  heart,  may  tend  to  confirm  that  principle  ;  and  of  consequence 
how  the  duty  or  service  to  which  it  impels  us,  may  become 
more  and  more  agreeable.  It  stands  to  reason,  that  whatever 
bodily  labour,  fatigue  or  suffering,  may  attend  the  discharge  of 
any  duty,  it  must  by  use  be  considerably  lessened,  if  not  entirely 
removed.  For  in  regard  of  all  these  external  circumstances,  the 
case  is  much  the  same  in  matters  of  religion,  as  in  the  common 
business  and  concerns  of  life  a. 

Let  us  put  the  case  of  one  newly  converted,  and  who  hath 
formerly  run  great  lengths  in  sin.  The  small  degree  of  know^ 
ledge  and  experience  which  such  a  person  possesses,  the  power- 
ful opposition  he  meets  with  from  temptation  and  evil  example, 
his  long  custom  in  sinning,  and  the  fears  which  through  various 
causes  are  apt  to  arise  in  his  breast ;  are  all  circumstances, 
which  may  very  naturally  be  supposed  to  render  some  at  least 
of  the  duties  and  services  required  of  him,  peculiarly  arduous 
and  painful.  If  indeed  it  be  said,  that  the  early  dawn  of  the 
divine  life  is  usually  distinguished  by  the  sprightliness  and  vi-r 
gour  of  it ;  it  is  to  be  replied,  that  this  is  chiefly  owing  to  the 
extraordinary  flow  of  zeal  and  affection  peculiar  to  that  period : 
and  therefore  does  not  prove,  that  the  young  convert  has  fewer 
difficulties  to  contend  with  in  the  beginning,  than  afterwards. 
This  then  being  admitted,  it  is  but  natural  to  conclude,  that  as 
his  views  enlarge,  and  faith  takes  deeper  root  in  his  heart,  he 
will  find  the  path  of  duty,  though  still  strewed  with  its  difficul- 
ties, become  more  and  more  easy.  And  this  account  of  the 
matter  is  sufficiently  countenanced  by  various  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture. 

You  know  how  the  apostle  John  ranks  the  disciples  of  Christ, 
in  the  different  classes  of  Httle  children,  and  young  men ,-  ad- 
dressing the  former  of  these  characters  with  all  the  tenderness 
suited  to  the  feeble  state  of  infancy,  and  congratulating  the  latter 

a  It  was  Pythagoras's  advice  to  lils  scliolars  :  "  Optimum  vitse  genus  eligito, 
Ham  consuetude  faciet  jucundissimum." 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  129 

Upon  the  mighty  victory  they  had  obtained,  through  the  supe- 
rior strength  with  which  they  were  endowed,  over  the  rage  and 
mahce  of  a  wicked  world  a.  Nor  can  we  forget  how  the  author 
to  the  Hebrews  describes  some  Christians,  as  mere  babes,  in  re- 
gard both  of  their  weakness  and  inexperience,  nourished  only 
with  milk,  and  unskilful  in  the  word  of  righteousness ;  while  he 
represents  those  of  longer  standing  in  the  church  of  God,  as 
men  fed  with  strong  meat,  and  having,  by  reason  ofusCf  their 
senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil  b.  From  all 
which  it  seems  natural  to  infer,  that  though  they  are  both  the 
happy  subjects  of  the  grace  of  God,  yet  that  the  yoke  of  duty 
and  suffering  must,  for  the  most  part,  be  more  tolerable  to  him 
who  is  accustomed  to  it,  than  to  him  who  hath  but  newly  sub- 
mitted to  it. 

This  consideration,  therefore,  should  have  a  farther  influencq 
to  reconcile  the  young  Christian  to  the  many  difficulties  which 
assault  him,  at  his  first  entrance  on  the  ways  of  religion.  To 
conclude, 

VI.  And  lastly,  Suppose  the  yoke  of  Christ  ever  so  grievous, 
it  is  nevertheless  easy  in  comparison  with  the  yoke  of  sin. 

And  of  the  truth  of  this,  it  will  be  readily  allowed,  that  they 
who  have  made  trial  of  the  one  and  the  other,  are  very  compe- 
tent judges.  To  the  sentence,  however,  of  wicked  men  them- 
selves, we  may,  upon  a  fair  representation  of  the  matter,  appeal. 
And  the  verdict  of  their  reason  and  conscience,  we  have  no  room 
to  doubt,  will  be  given  in  favour  of  religion ;  even  though  the  bias 
of  their  corrupt  and  perverse  inclinations,  lies  directly  the  other 
way.  Say  then,  you  who  yield  yourselves  servants  to  unrigh-' 
teousness,  is  there  any  yoke  so  galling,  any  servitude  so  base,  as 
that  of  sin?  The  prince  you  bow  your  knee  to  is  more  despotic 
and  tyrannical,  than  ever  was  the  haughty  Pharaoh  :  and  the 
masters  you  serve  are  far  more  severe  and  cruel  in  their  demands 
than  were  the  Egyptian  task-masters.  They  chastised  the 
Israelites  with  whips ,-  but  these  are  not  content  without  scourg- 
ing your  consciences  with  scorpions.  What  are  the  wages  you 
receive  at  the  bands  of  sin  and  Satan  ?  Not  such  as  you  have 
fondly  expected,  real,  substantial  and  abiding  pleasure,  but 
shame,  misery  and  death.  Follow  yourselves  through  the 
a  1  John  ii.  13,  14.  b  Heb.  v.  13,  U. 

VOL.  I.  I 


130  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

drudgery  of  vice  and  sin,  and  say  whether  the  poor  brutal 
gratification  of  a  moment,  accompanied  with  satiety  and  disap- 
pointment, and  attended  with  the  most  bitter  remorse,  and  the 
most  painful  reflections,  whether  this  be  a  reward  adequate  to 
all  your  toils  and  labours. 

How  easy  then,  when  compared  with  this  yoke,  is  that  which 
the  merciful  Jesus  has  framed,  which  his  kind  hand  lays  upon 
the  neck  of  his  disciples,  and  which,  by  the  influence  of  his 
good  Spirit,  he  enables  them  to  bear?  Be  it  so,  that  it  is  irk- 
some to  the  flesh,  yet  it  is  not  galling  to  the  conscience.  Be  it 
so,  that  a  vain  and  foolish  world  have  branded  it  with  infamy 
and  reproach,  yet  in  the  account  of  God,  and  of  all  wise  men,  it 
is  truly  becoming  and  honourable.  Be  it  so,  that  it  subjects 
the  Christian  to  outward  inconvenience  and  trouble,  and  that 
by  reason  of  the  remains  of  sin,  it  occasions  liim  many  grievous 
conflicts  within,  yet  Scripture  and  experience  testify,  that  it  is 
most  friendly,  both  to  his  present,  and  his  future,  and  everlast- 
ing interests. 

Now  all  these  things  considered — the  reasonableness  of 
Christ's  service — the  obligations  his  grace  hath  laid  upon  us — 
the  strength  he  promises  vis — the  example  of  those  gone  before 
us — the  advantage  arising  from  improving  experience — and  the 
easiness  of  the  yoke  of  Christ,  when  compared  with  that  of 
Satan — It  follows,  that  the  difficulties  attending  religion,  are 
not  so  great  as  sin  and  sense  would  represent  them.  And  thus 
is  our  Saviour's  assertion  in  the  text,  I  hope,  fully  and  satis- 
factorily established.  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light, 

PART    III. 

The  reasonableness  of  Christ's  service,  and  the  encourage- 
ments he  hath  given  us,  amidst  all  the  diflicultics  which  attend 
it,  we  have  considered  at  large.  And  it  now  remains  that  we 
make  some  suitable  improvement  of  the  subject. 

First,  If  the  yoke  of  Christ  is  so  very  easy  as  hath  been  re- 
presented, how  is  it  that  men  are  generally  prejudiced  against  it  ? 

Some  indeed  will  say,  that  they  have  their  doubts  as  to  the 
truth  of  our  Saviour's  mission  and  doctrine ;  and  that  therefore 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  they  do  not  become  his  disci- 
ples.    To  dispute  matters  with  unbelievers  is  not  my  business 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  131 

here.  Their  objections  are,  for  the  most  part,  frivolous  and 
vain ;  and  there  is  not  one  of  them  but  hath,  by  various  writer?, 
been  fully  and  plainly  refuted.  So  that  without  breach  of 
charity  it  may  be  affirmed,  that  the  opposition  which  Christianity 
meets  with  in  the  world,  owes  its  existence  more  to  the  disaffec- 
tion of  men's  hearts  to  the  gospel  itself,  than  to  their  con- 
scientious scruples  about  the  evidence  of  it.  They  have  a  secret 
and  prevailing  dislike  to  the  spirit  of  this  divine  institution,  and 
a  bitter  and  obstinate  aversion  to  its  sacred  precepts  and  injunc- 
tions. And  if  they  did  but  deal  honestly  by  themselves  and 
others,  they  would  acknowledge  that  the  matter  lies  here — 
Christ's  sayings  are,  in  the  apprehension  of  their  depraved  na- 
ture, hard,  and  so  they  cannot  hear  them  a. 

But  you  have  seen  that  what  he  requires  of  his  disciples  is 
most  fit  and  reasonable  in  itself,  and  most  salutary  and  benefi- 
cial in  its  tendency.  His  commands  will  endure  the  strictest 
scrutiny.  Let  them  all  be  brought  forth  to  the  light,  and  tried 
by  every  possible  medium,  which  impartial  reason  can  suggest. 
Let  his  most  determined  enemies  ask  themselves  this  plain  ques- 
tion. Whether,  admitting  that  Christ  is  infinitely  wise  and 
good,  he  could  have  done  any  other,  than  require  his  disciples, 
to  deny  themselves,  to  take  up  their  cross,  and  to  follow  him  ? 
Or  whether,  if  the  matter  were  reversed,  he  would  not  have 
given  a  clear  and  undeniable  proof,  that  his  pretensions  to  a 
divine  mission  were  false  and  groundless.  What  should  we 
have  thought  of  him,  had  he  pressed  it  upon  us,  as  our  incum- 
bent duty,  to  throw  the  reins  upon  the  neck  of  our  inclinations 
and  passions,  to  allow  ourselves  in  every  vain  pvirsuit,  and  car- 
nal gratification  we  are  capable  of?  To  renounce  truth  and  con- 
science, and  all  that  is  held  sacred  among  men,  rather  than  en- 
dure a  few  temporal  evils  and  sufferings  ?  And  to  follow  the 
principles,  customs  and  manners  of  the  world,  in  preference  to 
an  institution,  which  hath  the  evident  marks  of  divine  authority 
upon  it  ?  Would  this,  I  say,  have  been  wise  and  good  ?  The 
powers  of  darkness  might  indeed  have  applauded  such  counsel ; 
and  while  men  greedily  fell  in  with  it,  they  would  no  doubt 
have  malevolently  triumphed  in  their  present  and  everlasting  ruin. 

a  John  Yi.  60. 

I  2 


139  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

But  he  ivho  came  to'  seek  and  to  save  that  which  urns  lost, 
preaches  another  kind  of  doctrine  ;  a  doctrine  which  is  holy, 
just  and  good,  and  which  unites  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  real 
interests  of  his  disciples,  in  one  point.  And  while  he  appeals 
to  the  judgments  and  consciences  of  his  followers,  for  the  ex-» 
cellence  and  utility  of  his  precepts,  gives  the  fullest  proof  of  the 
disinterested  and  tender  compassion  of  his  heart,  by  himself 
bearing  the  cross  before  them,  and  pouring  out  his  life  thereon 
for  their  sakes.  Amazing  goodness  !  How  worthy  is  he  to  be 
loved  and  obeyed,  by  all  who  have  any  sense  of  duty,  grati- 
tude and  interest ! 

But  from  whence  do  these  sad  and  fatal  prejudices  against 
Christ  and  his  service  proceed  ?  They  spring  from  that  one 
grand  source  of  all  the  miseries  which  this  world  suffers,  the 
corniption  of  human  nature.  Let  any  one  sit  down,  and  im- 
partially consider  our  Saviour's  character  and  doctrine  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  violent  antipathy  there  is  in  most  men  to 
religion  on  the  other ;  and  he  cannot  fail,  raethinks,  readily  to 
fall  in  with  the  Scripture  account  of  the  apostacy  of  mankind, 
and  the  dreadful  consequences  which  have  followed  upon  it. 
Both  prophets  and  apostles  speak  one  language.  The  whole 
world  is  become  guilty  before  God.  They  are  all  under  sin. 
There  is  nojie  righteous,  no  not  one.  There  is  none  that  un- 
derstandeth,  none  that  seekeih  after  God  a. 

And  now.  Sirs,  if  you  have  any  conviction  impressed  upon 
your  judgments  and  consciences  of  the  truth  of  what  our  Sa- 
viour affirms  in  the  text,  let  me  entreat  you, 

1.  To  enter  into  a  close  and  serious  consideration  of  this 
sad  source  of  all  your  prejudices  against  Christ.  You  acknow- 
ledge them  to  be  unreasonable.  And  since  they  are  evidently 
the  fruit  of  a  vitiated  imagination  and  a  depraved  will,  it  is  fit 
you  should  be  sensible  of  the  diseased  state  you  are  in.  The 
whole  need  not  a  physician,  but  they  that  are  sick  b.  Where- 
fore, be  persuaded  to  converse  much  with  your  own  hearts ;  to 
observe  attentively  the  bent  and  tenor  of  your  desires  and  affec- 
tions; and  to  consider  well  how  all  the  false  reasonings  of  your 
minds  tend  to  one  point,  the  gratification  of  your  depraved  in- 
clinations. Compare  this  view  of  your  own  hearts,  with  the 
a  Horn.  iii.  9—11.  b  Matt.  ix.  12. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  133 

lively  representations  given  of  them  in  the  sacred  Scriptures. 
Think  much  of  the  deformity  and  wretchedness  of  your  condi- 
tion. Be  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  a  renovation  of  your 
nature,  in  order  to  your  real  happiness.  Christ  says  to  you, 
as  well  as  to  Nicodemus,  Ye  must  be  born  again  a.  And  the 
apostle  assures  you,  that  they  who  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please 
God  b.  Let  it  also  be  remembered,  that  the  more  deeply  you 
are  sensible  of  the  obstinacy  of  your  disease,  the  more  clearly 
will  you  perceive  the  suitableness  and  efficacy  of  that  remedy 
which  divine  grace  hath  provided. 

2.  Since  all  these  prejudices,  which  I  have  endeavoured 
to  expose,  are  sinful  and  groundless,  take  heed  how  you  indulge 
or  cherish  them.  Men  would  not  be  at  so  much  pains  to  fix 
the  charge  of  unreasonableness  and  severity  upon  religion,  if 
they  did  not  secretly  hope  hereby  to  get  rid  of  that  strong 
presumption  in  favour  of  its  truth,  which  disturbs  and  galls 
their  consciences.  That  is  their  object.  And  it  is  possible, 
that  by  an  eager  attention  to  the  suggestions  of  their  own  cor- 
rupt hearts,  and  of  wicked  and  profane  men  with  whom  they 
converse;  they  may,  after  a  while,  come  to  believe,  that  religion 
ds  all  a  dream.  And  the  effect  of  this  will  be  a  total  insen- 
sibility. There  will  remain  no  sentiment  or  feeling,  capable  of 
being  addressed  or  expostulated  with.  And  can  you  conceive 
of  a  more  dangerous  state  of  the  mind  than  this  ?  As  you  dread, 
therefore,  the  being  thus  hardened  in  infidelity  and  sin,  be- 
ware how  you  countenance  those  prejudices  and  objections, 
which  have  this  direct  and  manifest  tendency.  Be  on  your 
guard  against  them.  And  whether  they  are  started  by  your 
own  perverted  imagination,  or  are  thrown  in  your  way  by  Satan 
and  his  emissaries,  who  would  gladly  retain  you  in  the  service 
of  sin;  do  your  utmost  to  stifle  them  in  the  birth,  or  oppose 
to  them  those  reasonings  which  you  have  heard,  and  which  in 
your  judgment  and  conscience  you  acknowledge  to  be  sound 
and  good.     Again, 

3.  Pray  mightily  to  God,  to  subdue  your  stubborn  will,  and 
to  conciliate  your  hearts  and  affections  to  his  service.  If  yon 
arc  fully  persuaded  that  it  is  your  interest  to  become  the  disciple^ 
gf  Christ,  this  persuasion,  in  proportion  to  the  strength  of  it, 

d  John  iii.  7.  b  Rom.  viii.  9. 


134  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

will  put  vigour  and  energy  into  your  prayers.  And  the  opposi- 
tion it  may  meet  with  from  carnal  affections,  and  worldly  attach- 
ments, will  serve  to  convince  you  more  and  more  of  your  own 
weakness,  and  of  the  need  you  stand  in  of  the  influences  of  the 
blessed  Spirit.  Make  it  therefore  your  earnest  request  to  God, 
to  impress  upon  your  minds  a  lively  sense  of  the  truth,  excellence 
and  importance  of  those  great  discoveries  the  gospel  makes;  to 
lay  open  to  your  view  the  deceitful  reasonings  of  your  hearts ; 
to  subdue  effectually  your  stubborn  prejudices;  and  to  incline  you 
to  a  cordial  and  cheerful  compliance  with  the  divine  will.  Fast 
bound  as  Simon  was  in  the  chains  of  iniquity,  Peter  exhorts 
him  to  repent  and  pray  God,  if  perhaps  the  thought  oj'  his  heart 
might  be  forgiven  him  a.  And  our  Lord  himself  counsels  the 
Laodiceans,  intoxicated  as  they  were  with  worldly  pleasures  and 
pursuits,  to  buy  of  him  gold  tried  in  the  f  re,  that  they  might  he 
rich ;  and  white  raiment  that  they  might  be  clothed,  and  that 
the  shame  of  their  nakedness  might  not  appear ;  and  to  anoint 
their  eyes  with  eye-salve,  that  they  might  see  b.  O  may  this 
counsel  of  his  find  access  to  your  hearts  !  So  will  you  acknow- 
ledge, from  your  own  experience,  not  only  that  his  yoke  is  easy, 
and  his  burden  light,  but  that  his  ways  are  ways  of  pleasant' 
ness,  and  all  his  paths  are  peace  c. 

Secondly,  From  what  hath  been  said,  we  see  the  strong 
obligations  which  all  those  are  under,  whose  hearts  are  well 
affected  to  the  service  of  Christ,  to  make  a  public  profession  of 
his  name.  It  is  his  express  language,  Take  my  yoke  upon 
you  d. 

Religion  is,  I  know,  a  personal  thing,  a  matter  which  lies 
between  God  and  our  own  souls.  Yet  as  there  must,  there 
will  be  many  external  expressions  of  it :  so  this  which  I  here 
mention,  is  of  no  small  importance.  They  who  believe  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ,  ought  most  certainly  to  profess  it :  and  they 
who  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  ought  to  be 
found  in  the  practice  of  its  institutions.  There  are  many  pow- 
erful motives  to  excite  you.  Sirs,  to  this  duty  :  but  it  may  be 
there  are  considerations  of  no  small  weight  on  the  other  hand, 
which  hold  you  back  from  it.     Let  me  therefore  attempt  to  set 

a  Acts  viii.  22.  I  Rev.  iii.  18.  c  Prov.  Hi.  17.  d  Ver,  29. 


OF  RELrOION  SURMOUNTED.  135 

tliem  both  in  their  proper  light.     Your  principal  difficulty  is, 
perhaps, 

1.  The  want  of  a  full  and  clear  satisfaction  as  to  your  up- 
rightness towards  God.  A  considerable  difficulty  this  doubt- 
less is. 

As  to  those  who  would  fain  persuade  themselves  that  they 
are  men  of  God,  amidst  many  sad  and  strong  presumptions  that 
they  are  men  of  the  world,  the  best  advice  tliat  can  be  given 
them,  is  to  forbear  taking  all  this  pains  to  their  own  real  preju- 
dice. There  is  in  such  cases  little  occasion  for  suspicion. 
The  matter  is  too  clear.  Wherefore,  their  business  is  to  re- 
flect on  the  misery  of  their  condition,  and  to  consider  immedi- 
ately how  it  is  to  be  escaped  a. 

But  I  am  here  addressing  myself  to  persons  of  a  different  com- 
plexion, the  truly  serious,  but  timorous,  disciples  of  Christ. 
And  as  to  such,  it  may  be  naturally  enquired.  What  kind  of  sa- 
tisfaction do  you  wish  to  have,  or  do  you  judge  necessary,  to 
entitle  you  to  the  institutions  of  Christ  ?  Absolute  perfection 
is  not  necessary,  nor  is  it  attainable  in  the  present  life,  as  you 
have  already  seen.  And  as  to  a  certain  assurance  of  your  future 
happy  state,  however  desirable  that  may  be,  it  is  not  requisite  to 
denominate  you  a  good  man.  Besides,  it  is  in  the  use  of  those 
means  of  religion,  which  Christ  hath  appointed,  and  to  which  I 
would  persuade  you,  that  such  an  assurance  is  only  with  reason 
to  be  expected. 

Now  the  matter  upon  which  you  wish  to  obtain  satisfaction, 
is  reducible  to  these  two  questions.  What  it  is  that  constitutes 
a  man  a  real  Christian  ?  and,  whether  you  answer  to  that  cha- 
racter? Upon  the  former  question  you  are  to  be  determined  by 
Scripture.  And  Scripture  clearly  teaches,  that  he,  and  he  only, 
is  a  genuine  disciple  of  Christ,  who  believes  the  record  which 
God  hath  given  of  his  Son  ;  and,  convinced  of  his  guilt  and 
misery,  embraces  the  promise  of  life  and  salvation  through  him. 
The  effect  of  which  will  be  a  solemn  renunciation  of  the  base 
servitude  of  sin,  a  cordial  desire  and  aim  to  resemble  and  please 
God,  and  a  deliberate  preference  of  the  joys  and  pleasures  of 

a  T/j  vvovo'ixe  Xi'''"'t  ■ra^iv  (rxoxuv  r!  'iii  rr^a^^rivxi  ;  Ecquis  suspicionis  usus 
est,  cum  quid  fieri  oporteat  consideraie  praesto  sit? 

Marc.  Anton,  lib.  x. 


136  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

religion,  to  all  the  gratifications  and  emoluments  of  the  present 
Ufe. 

And  for  satisfaction  upon  the  latter  question.  Whether  this 
be  your  character  ?  you  must  search  your  heart,  and  try  your 
ways.  Exajnine  yourselves^  says  the  apostle,  whether  ye  he  in 
the  faith  a.  Let  every  man  prove  his  own  work.  IVhatsoever 
a  man  soiceth,  that  shall  he  also  reap.  He  who  soweth  to  his 
Jlesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption ;  but  he  who  soweth  to 
the  spirit,  shall  of  the  spirit  reap  life  everlasting  b.  Now,  as 
in  these  enquiries,  it  behoves  you  to  be  strictly  impartial,  so  you 
ought  not  to  distress  yourself  with  suspicions  and  jealousies, 
which  are  unreasonable  and  gi'oundless.  And  such  are  all  those 
which  arise  from  infirmities  and  sins,  which  are  common  to  other 
good  men,  as  well  as  you ;  and  which  you  daily  and  most  heartily 
confess  and  lament  before  God.  Do  not  hastily  conclude  from 
them,  that  you  are  insincere.  Your  earnest  wish  and  endeavour, 
to  detect  all  the  latent  seeds  of  hypocrisy  in  your  breast,  is  a 
fair  proof  of  your  uprightness.  Consider  well  the  prevailing 
desires  of  your  heart,  and  the  general  tenor  of  your  conduct. 
And  a  due  reflection  on  them,  accompanied  with  your  fervent 
cries  to  God  for  the  enlivening  beams  of  his  favour  and  love, 
will  be  likely,  in  a  good  measure,  to  clear  up  your  doubts  upon 
this  interesting  question. 

If  then  you  have  cheerfully  and  deliberately  chosen  Christ 
for  your  Saviour  and  King,  fear  not  openly  to  acknowledge  your- 
self his  subject  and  servant.  Conscious  that  you  lay  the  whole 
stress  of  your  everlasting  interests  upon  his  mediation,  and  that 
it  is  your  aim  to  conform  to  his  will ;  you  may,  without  incur- 
ring the  guilt  of  presumption,  take  place  among  his  followers. 
He  would  not  have  left  it  in  charge  with  his  disciples,  to  re- 
ceive such  into  their  number  who  are  weak  in  the  faith  c  ;  if  he 
had  not  of  his  mercy  received  and  acknowledged  them  himself. 
Nay,  the  devoting  yourself  to  his  service,  amidst  many  discou- 
raging doubts  and  fears,  will  itself  afford  a  noble  evidence  of 
the  sincerity  of  your  love,  and  the  genuineness  of  your  faith. 
And  now  this  difficulty  removed,  you  have  still  another,  which 
not  a  little  distresses  you ;  and  that  is, 

«  2  Cor.  xiii.  5,  h  CaL  vL  4:)  7,  8.  c  Rom.  xiv.  I. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  13*7 

2.  The  dread  of  apostacy.  *'  Should  I  take  Christ's  yoke 
upon  me,  and  after  a  while,  like  some  others,  grow  weary  of  it ; 
should  I  call  myself  his  disciple,  and  by  and  by,  when  tribula- 
tion or  persecution  ariseth,  because  of  the  word,  be  offetidedu  ? 
should  I  openly  renounce  the  world,  and  afterwards,  overcome  by 
its  temptations,  and  fall  into  foolish  and  hurtful  lusts,  which 
droivn  men  in  perdition  and  destruction  b  :  how  deplorable  will 
my  condition  be  ! — my  Master  dishonoured  !  my  profession  dis- 
graced !  my  fellow-disciples  grieved  !  and  my  own  condemna- 
tion aggravated  beyond  that  of  others  !  Should  this  he  my  un- 
happy case,  it  had  been  better  for  me  not  to  have  known  the  way 
T)f  righteousness,  than  having  known  and  professed  it,  thus  to 
turn  from  the  holy  commandment  delivered  unto  me  c." 

But  to  this  it  is  to  be  replied.  Admitting  that  there  is  dan- 
ger of  your  apostatizing,  this  consideration  does  not  alter  the 
Btate  of  the  question  respecting  your  duty.  If  you  are  a  real 
Christian,  as  you  hope  and  trust  you  are,  you  are  bound  to  fol- 
low your  Master  in  the  practice  of  his  institutions.  His  com- 
mand is  obligatory  on  all  who  believe  in  him.  There  are  no  re- 
strictions in  favour  of  those  who  are  pressed  with  extraordinary 
apprehensions  or  fears  of  this  nature.  As  therefore  the  service 
is  to  be  undertaken,  the  difficulty  and  expensiveness,  yea,  the 
hazard  of  it  in  your  vievv  of  the  matter,  ought  by  no  means  to 
deter  you  from  it.  Besides,  if  this  excuse  is  to  be  admitted  iu 
one  instance,  it  is  in  another.  And  in  that  case,  since  there  are 
no  real  Christians  but  have  their  fears  and  jealousies  of  them- 
selves, there  would  be  no  professors  of  religion  at  all.  And 
what  a  strange  circumstance  would  this  be  !  that  Christ  should 
set  up  his  standard,  and  that  even  his  friends  should  none  of 
them  come  in  to  it. 

■  Again,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  this  diffidence  of  yourself, 
provided  it  is  held  under  proper  restraints,  is  a  consideration 
greatly  in  your  favour ;  and  will  prove  a  means  to  secure  you 
from  the  danger  you  apprehend.  Can  there  be  an  instance  pro- 
duced, of  one  who  hath  in  this  temper  of  mind,  enlisted  under 
the  banner  of  Christ ;  and  who  hath  afterwards  deserted  his  co- 
lours, and  betrayed  the  cause  ?  Take  courage  therefore,  O  ti- 
morous disciple  of  Jesus.  Bid  defiance  to  all  unreasonable  fears, 
rt  Matt.  xiii.  21.  h  2  Tim.  vi.  9.  c  2  Pet.  ii,  21. 


138  .  THE  DIFFICULTIES 

Many  a  soldier,  whose  heart  hath  trembled  at  the  onset,  hath 
behaved  vahantly  in  the  heat  of  the  battle.  You  have  heard 
also  that  Christ  does  not  invite  persons  into  his  service,  and 
then  leave  them  to  their  own  strength.  He  hath  more  tender- 
ness and  compassion,  I  may  add,  more  truth  and  justice  than  all 
this.  No.  Your  Captain  goes  before  you,  throws  himself  into 
the  hottest  place,  and  where  the  danger  is  the  greatest.  Nay, 
I  may  add,  he  hath  so  laid  his  measures,  and  provided  in  such  a 
manner  against  every  kind  of  stratagem,  surprise  or  assault,  that 
they  who  are  heartily  engaged  in  his  interest  may  be  assured  of 
victory.  Can  you  then  call  to  mind  what  he  hath  endured  for 
your  sake  ?  Can  you  reflect  how  deeply  he  hath  interested  him- 
self, in  the  success  of  your  feeble  attempts  in  his  service  ?  Can 
you  believe  the  many  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  he 
hath  made  you,  and  which  he  is  as  able  as  he  is  willing  to  ful- 
fil ?  And  can  you,  in  a  word,  realize  the  glory  which  shall  short- 
ly crown  all  the  conflicts  of  this  your  militant  state  ? — and  not 
cheerfully  embark  in  his  service — not  most  readily  bow  your 
neck  to  his  yoke. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  objection,  I  should  rather  call 
it  excuse,  to  be  removed.  And  an  excuse  it  is  which 
reflects  great  dishonour  upon  those  who  make  it ;  if  indeed 
charity  will  allow  them  to  be  the  real  friends  of  Jesus.  It  is 
this, 

3.  That  the  positive  institutions  of  Christ  are  matters  of 
trifling  importance,  and  may  be  dispensed  with,  at  little  or  no 
hazard  to  a  man's  present  or  future  interests.  Strange  !  the  in- 
htitutions  of  Christ  of  trifling  importance  ! — Blush,  Christian, 
that  ever  such  a  word  should  drop  from  your  lips,  or  such  a 
thought  arise  in  your  breast.  To  look  upon  them  as  necessary 
to  salvation,  is  indeed  to  affront  the  character  of  Christ  as  a  Sa- 
viour, and  to  undermine  the  fundamental  principles  of  his  gos- 
pel. And  to  substitute  them  in  the  room  of  those  weightier 
matters,  faith,  mercy,  and  judgment,  is  to  act  the  part  of  the 
corrupt  and  superstitious  Jews,  which  our  Saviour  so  highly 
censured.  But  it  does  not  thence  follow,  that  they  are  of  little 
or  no  moment.  Both  the  manner  and  the  ends  of  their  appoint- 
ment, if  duly  considered,  sufficiently  evince  their  utility  and  im- 
portance. 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  139 

It  was  on  the  very  night  he  was  betrayed,  our  Lord  institut- 
ed the  holy  supper,  solemnly  requiring  his  disciples  to  do  this  in 
remembrance  of  him  a,  and  leaving  it  in  charge  with  them,  to 
inculcate  the  frequent  observation  of  it  through  every  future 
age  b.  And  it  was  upon  the  memorable  occasion  of  his  ascend- 
ing up  into  heaven,  he  commissioned  his  apostles  to  go  teach  all 
nations,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost ,-  at  the  same  time  giving  sufficient  intimation, 
that  he  meant  to  extend  this  commission  to  all  succeeding  mi- 
nisters, by  adding  his  gracious  promise,  Lo  I  am  with  you  al- 
way,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world  c.  Nor  should  we  forget  the 
declaration  which  immediately  follows  his  commission  in  another 
evangelist,  He  who  believeth,  and  is  baptized,  shall  be  saved ; 
hut  he  who  believeth  not,  shall  be  damned  d.  By  his  connecting 
baptism  with  faith,  in  the  former  clause,  he  plainly  forbids  our 
treating  that  institution  with  indifference  :  and  by  his  omitting 
it  in  the  latter,  we  are  taught  not  to  lay  an  undue  stress  upon 
it,  as  necessary  to  salvation.  To  which  it  must  be  added,  that 
the  nature  and  intent  of  these  sacred  rites,  as  they  are  explained 
in  the  New  Testament,  clearly  prove  them  to  have  been  de- 
signed, not  only  as  public  tests  of  our  love  and  obedience,  but 
as  means  to  promote  our  comfort  and  edification. 

What  then  is  the  spirit  of  their  reasoning  and  conduct,  who 
can  allow  themselves  in  the  neglect  of  Christ's  institutions, 
under  the  vain  pretence  of  their  being  of  trifling  consideration  ? 
Forgive  me  if  I  say,  you  do  in  effect  dispute  the  authority,  or 
however  censure  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  Christ.  \  ou  de- 
prive yourself  of  one  evidence  at  least  of  your  sincerity.  You 
stand  excluded,  by  your  own  conseiit,  from  the  natural  and  ap- 
pointed means  of  improvement  in  religion.  And  instead  of  aid- 
ing and  promoting  the  interest  of  the  Redeemer,  you  by  this 
strange  conduct  greatly  discourage  and  weaken  it.  And  now  I 
ask,  do  not  these  considerations  give  you  real  pain  ?  They  will, 
I  am  persuaded,  if  your  affection  for  Christ  is  sincere  and  ge- 
nuine. Call  up  to  your  view  the  infinite  obligations,  which  his 
unparalleled  goodness  hath  laid  upon  you.  And  then  say, 
what  characters  of  disingcnuity  and  baseness  your  conduct  will 

a  Luke  xxii.  19,  20.  h  1  Cor.  xi.  26. 

c  Matt,  xxviii.  19,  20.  d  Mark.  xvi.  16. 


146  TUE  DIFFICULTIES 

merit,  if  shame  or  sloth,  or  this  unreasonable  pretence  I  have 
been  exposing,  should  any  longer  prevail  to  hold  you  back  from 
your  duty. 

Thirdly,  I  have  now  only  to  address  myself,  in  a  few  words, 
to  those  who  have  taken  Christ's  poke  upon  them,  and  are  en- 
rolled among  his  followers. 

Your  honour  and  privilege,  my  friends,  is  very  great :  far 
greater  than  if  you  were  the  disciples  of  the  wisest  man,  or  the 
servants  of  the  most  powerful  prince  on  earth.  It  is  by  false 
measures  we  too  commonly  make  our  estimate  of  what  we  call 
real  happiness  and  glory.  The  wealth  and  grandeur  of  the 
world  strike  our  imagination,  and  the  opinions  and  customs  of 
mankind  govern  our  inclinations  and  pursuits.  But  when  the 
vail  of  sense  is  drawn  aside,  and  faith  presents  to  our  view  the 
adorable  Jesus  arrayed  in  all  his  infinite  perfections,  what  amaz- 
ing splendour  does  the  majesty  of  his  character  reflect  on  the 
meanest  of  his  followers  !  Myriads  of  happy  spirits  surround  his 
throne ;  and  they  all  account  it  their  chief  felicity  to  contemplate 
his  excellencies,  and  their  highest  honour  to  obey  his  commands. 
Wht3  would  not  wish,  then,  to  make  one  in  the  number  of  his 
retinue  ?  This  is  your  distinguishing  privilege.  And  whatever 
cii'cumstances  of  poverty  or  affliction  may  attend  your  outward 
condition,  if  he  owns  you  for  his  disciples,  and  you  bear  any  re- 
semblance to  him,  there  is  more  real  dignity  in  your  character 
and  profession,  than  the  proudest  monarch  can  boast  of,  who  is 
a  slave  to  sin  and  sense.  Angels  congratulate  you — good  men 
love  you — even  the  wicked  themselves,  on  some  occasions,  re- 
vere you. 

Need  I  after  this  say.  Be  not  ashamed  of  the  yoke  of  Christ? 
— \  ou  are  not.  It  is  your  highest  honour  ;  and  with  the  great 
apostle  you  cheerfully  join  issue,  '  God  forbid  that  I  should 
glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  Christ  a.'  On  the  other  hand,  need 
I  caution  you  to  beware,  how  you  disgrace  your  profession,  by 
an  jinsuitable  temper  and  conduct  ?  It  is  your  dread :  keep  in 
mind,  therefore,  the  obligations  which  Christ  hath  laid  upon 
you,  and  your  voluntary  engagements  to  him.  His  interests 
and  yours  are  united  :  by  the  love  therefore  you  bear  to  him, 
and  the  concern  you  feel  for  your  own  happiness,  be  persuaded 
«  Gal.  Yi.  14, 


OF  RELIGION  SURMOUNTED.  141 

io  stand  at  a  distance  from  sin.  You  have  named  tJte  tmme  of 
Christ ;  depart  therefore ^owi  all  iniquity  a.  You  are  the  ex- 
pectants of  a  better  world ;  be  not  therefore  conformed  to  this  h. 
You  are  children  of  the  light ;  have  7io  felloiuship  with  the  un- 
fruitfid  works  of  darkness  c. 

Neither  be  you  weary  of  the  yoke  of  Christ.  There  are  cir- 
cumstances, as  you  have  heard,  which  do  sometimes  make  it 
painfuL  Afflictions  of  various  kinds  you  must  expect  to  meet 
with  ;  and  animal  nature  is  not  always  in  a  like  capacity  to  bear 
them.  Many  active  services  also  are  required  of  us ;  and  the 
want  of  a  lively  temper  of  mind,  will  sometimes  render  them  ra- 
thei'  tedious  and  irksome.  But  be  cai'oful,  amidst  all,  that  you 
indulge  not  an  unkind  thought  of  your  Master,  or  of  his  service. 
Cultivate  a  sincere  and  cordial  love  to  him,  and  this  will  make 
Vou  superior  to  every  difficulty  and  discouragement.  It  is  happy 
to  be  able  to  say,  after  having  tried  his  yoke,  Hove  my  Master^ 
I  will  not  go  out  freed.  Maintain  daily  communion  with  him  3 
and  this  will  put  life  and  vigour  into  your  obedience.  If  ever 
there  was  a  time,  when  Peter  was  tempted  to  think  hardly  of 
Christ's  yoke,  it  was  when  he  followed  him  afar  offe.  Neutrality 
in  religion  is  dangerous.  The  very  first  symptoms  of  it  are 
therefore  to  be  watched  and  dreaded.  Call  to  mind  the  many 
enlivening  exhortations  of  God's  word;  and  consider  well  the 
examples  it  sets  before  you.  And  pray  earnestly  for  divine 
grace  to  enable  you  to  persevere. 

To  conclude.  Amidst  all  the  fatigues  and  sorrows  of  the  pre* 
sent  life,  and  which  attend  the  faithful  discharge  of  your  duty, 
be  comforted  with  the  joyful  prospect  of  a  future  happy  immor- 
tality. There  remaineth  a  rest  for  the  people  of  Godf.  You 
shall  ere  long  cease  from  your  labours^  and  receive  your  reward. 
Your  Master  endured  the  cross,  and  dtspised  the  shame ;  and 
he  is  now  set  down  on  the  right  hand  of  the  throne  of  God  g» 
And  he  hath  promised  that  they  who  suffer  with  him,  shall 
reign  with  him  h  ;  and  that  where  he  is,  there  his  servants  shall 
be  also  i.  O  happy  day,  when  you  shall  arrive  at  your  home  ! 
and  Christ  sliall  himself  welcome  you  thither,  with  those  kind 

a  2  Tim.  ii.  19.  b  Rom.  xii.  2.  c  Eph.  v,  8—11. 

d  Exod.  xxi.  5.  e  Matt,  xxvi,  51.  yHeb.  iv.  9. 

g  Chap.  xli.  2.  /(  •?  Tim.  ii.  li.'.  ■ ,         i  John  xii.  26. 


142  THE   PLEASANTNESS 

and  transporting  words,  fVell  done,  good  and  faithful  servant  ,• 
enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord  a. 


DISCOURSE    VII. 


THE  PLEASANTNESS  OF  RELIGION. 

Prov.  III.  17. — Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all 
her  paths  are  peace. 

CyOULD  we  convince  men  that  the  service  of  Christ  is  not  that 
uneasy  yoke,  that  grievous  burden,  which  through  the  preju- 
dices of  corrupt  nature  it  is  generally  understood  to  be,  it  were, 
raethinks,  a  considerable  point  gained.  This  however,  hath 
been  attempted ;  and  I  would  hope,  through  the  blessing  of 
God,  not  without  some  success.  But  must  we  stop  here?  Is 
it  the  only  commendation  of  the  religion  of  the  heart,  that  it 
will  do  no  one  any  real  harm  ?  To  suppose  this,  were  surely  to 
do  it  great  injustice.  O  no  !  There  are  divine,  substantial  and 
durable  pleasures  attending  the  experience  and  practice  of  it. 
To  prove  this  will  therefore  be  our  present  business.  And  if 
we  are  so  happy  as  to  be  fully  and  cordially  persuaded  of  this 
most  certain  truth,  we  cannot  fail  of  being  captivated  with 
its  charms,  and  so  becoming  willing  converts  to  its  sacred  dic- 
tates. 

That  Solomon  is  here  speaking  of  serious  religion  is  beyond 
all  doubt.  Nor  is  it  without  good  reason  that  he  gives  it,  in 
the  preceding  verses,  the  denomination  of  IVisdom,  agreeably 
to  his  own  character,  and  the  professed  design  of  this  book  of 
Proverbs  h.  For  if  there  be  such  a  thing  as  wisdom  in  the 
world,  that  surely  has  the  best  claim  to  this  description,  which 
gives  us  the  clearest  apprehensions  of  God,  his  nature  and  per- 
fections; which  leads  us  into  the  most  intimate  acquaintance 
with  ourselves ;  which  instructs  us  wherein  our  true  interest 
a  Matt.  XXV.  21.  b  Chap.  i.  1—4.. 


OF  RELIGION.  143 

lies ;  ahd  which  marks  out  to  our  view  the  path  to  life  and 
blessedness.  Now  the  wise  man  pronounces  him  happy  who 
Jinds  this  wisdom  and  who  gets  this  understanding  ;  assuring 
us  that  it  is  a  prize  infinitely  more  valuable  than  silver  or  gold, 
than  the  most  precious  rubies,  or  any  of  the  delights  of  sense 
whatsoever.  Length  of  days,  says  he,  is  in  her  right  hand, 
and  in  her  lefi  hand  riches  and  honour  a.  To  which  he  adds 
in  the  text,  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her 
paths  are  peace. 

By  the  ways  and  paths  of  wisdom  is  meant  the  whole  of 
religion,  both  the  contemplative  and  practical  part  of  it.  And 
each  of  these  is  peaceful  and  pleasant.  So  they  are  declared 
to  be  by  the  unerring  word  of  God,  and  so  they  have  been  found 
to  be  by  the  experience  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  men.  Great 
peace  have  they,  sings  the  psalmist  with  a  cheerful  note,  who 
love  thy  law,  and  nothing  shall  offend  them  b.  And  with  him 
the  beloved  disciple  of  Jesus  readily  joins  concert,  when  he 
tells  us,  that  its  commands  are  not  grievous  c,  that  is,  they  are 
pleasant  and  joyous. 

But  before  I  come  to  illustrate  this  cheerful  and  animating 
truth,  I  must  just  observe  that  the  text  is  not  to  be  taken  so 
restrictively,  as  if  every  good  man  were  a  perfectly  peaceful 
and  happy  man  ;  or  as  if  the  ways  of  religion  were  all  of  them  so 
easy  and  pleasant,  as  not  to  admit  of  any  circumstance  which 
is  disagreeable  and  irksome.  The  reverse  of  this  is  too  plain 
a  fact  to  be  disputed,  and  hath  been  acknowledged  and  account- 
ed for  in  a  former  discourse.  Perfect  happiness  is  not  to  be 
enjoyed  here:  nor  is  it  possible  it  should,  considering  the  pre- 
sent imperfect  and  depraved  state  of  things.  'I  he  best  of  men 
must  needs  feel  some  painful  sensations  within,  from  that  conti- 
nual struggle  between  grace  and  corruption,  which  ever  prevails 
in  their  breasts.  And  as  from  a  strict  observation  of  themselves, 
they  find  daily  occasion  for  humiliation  before  God ;  they  cannot 
but  on  that  account,  endure  a  degree  of  anxiety  and  distress, 
though  not  all  that  gloominess  and  despondency  which  is  the 
sad  fruit  of  unpardoned  guilt.  And  then  the  outward  disap- 
pointments and  trials  to  which  they  are  liable  in  common  with 
others,  must  be  a  source  of  at  least  some  inward  affliction ;  since 

a  Ver.  13—16.  b  Psal.  cxix.  165.  c  1  John  v.  3. 


144  TliE  PLEASANTNESS 

religion  does  not  divest  them  of  their  passions,  or  make  them  in- 
sensible to  external  things.  To  which  it  may  be  added,  that 
God  himself  is  sometimes  pleased  for  wise  ends  to  withhold  the 
enlivening  influence  of  his  grace  :  and  when  thus  a  dark  cloud 
spreads  itself  over  all  their  pleasant  experiences,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  that  they  are  in  trouble.  But  in  neither  of  these 
instances  is  religion  itself,  strictly  speaking,  the  cause  of  sorrow  ; 
though  by  reason  of  the  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  the 
unavoidable  connections  of  the  present  life,  it  is  the  occasion  of 
it.  And  as  to  those  Christians,  if  such  there  be,  who  always 
wear  a  mournful  countenance;  the  greater  part  of  their  uneasi- 
ness is  to  be  imputed  either  to  natural  constitution,  or  else  to 
mistaken  notions  about  religion  itself. 

Now  these  things  considered,  the  difficulty  with  respect  to  the 
observation  in  the  text  is  in  a  good  measure  removed.  And 
after  all,  though  it  were  admitted,  that  some  of  the  ways  of  wis- 
dom are  rough  and  unpleasant,  yet  this  would  by  no  means  dis- 
prove the  general  truth  of  Solomon's  maxim ;  since  most  pro- 
verbial sayings  will  admit  of  some  particular  exceptions,  and  the 
plain  meaning  of  that  before  us  is,  that  it  is  the  natural  tendency 
of  religion  to  make  men  peaceful  and  happy. 

We  will  now  therefore  proceed  immediately  to  the  illustration 
of  this  argument,  which  we  shall  do  by  shewing,  that  the  know- 
ledge and  experience  of  religion  hath  a  mighty  effect, 

I.  To  remove  the  principal  causes  of  disquietude  :  and, 

II.  To  minister  the  highest  occasions  of  joy  and  pleasure. 

W^e  are  here  speaking  of  the  mind,  which  is  on  all  hands  ac- 
knowledged to  be  the  chief  seat  of  happiness  and  pleasure.  If 
that  be  easy  and  cheerful,  it  is  not  of  essential  consequence  what 
our  outward  circumstances  may  be.     How  then, 

I.  Is  religion  adapted  to  remove  the  principal  causes  of  in- 
ward uneasiness  ?  Now  these  are  reducible  to  three  heads  ; — 
doubt  and  uncertainty — guilt  and  fear — and  that  disorder  and 
restlessness  of  spirit,  which  arises  from  the  prevalence  of  tur- 
bulent and  ungovernable  passions. 

1.  Doubt  and  uncertainty.  This  every  one  knows,  who  hath 
been  at  all  conversant  with  himself,  is  an  occasion  of  much  anx-f 
iety  and  trouble.  Whatever  be  the  affair  we  are  thoughtful 
about,  while  the  mind  remains  in  suspense,  it  must  needs  be 


OF  RIXIGiaN.  145 

unhappy.  And  its  unhappiness  will  always  be  proportioned  to 
the  importance  of  the  object.  Now  the  great  principles  of  reli- 
gion, which  have  for  their  object,  the  well-being  of  mankind 
both  here  and  hereafter,  are  surely  of  all  other  matters  the  most 
important.  And  of  consequence  whilst  the  mind  is  doubtful  of 
their  truth,  it  cannot  but  be  exceedingly  perplexed  and  uneasy. 
Some,  indeed,  are  so  stupid,  as  to  trouble  themselves  little,  if  at 
all,  about  these  things.  Whatever  peace  therefore,  they  may 
fondly  boast  of,  it  is  the  fruit  of  ignorance  and  insensibility. 
Yet  there  is,  I  suppose,  hardly  a  man  to  be  found,  but  is  at 
one  time  or  other,  pressed  with  some  such  questions  as  these — 
Is  there  a  God  that  judgeth  in  the  earth  ? — Am  I  accountable 
to  him  ? — Will  my  soul  exist  in  another  state  after  death  ? — 
By  what  measure  will  future  happiness  and  misery  be  dispens- 
ed to  mankind  ?  These  questions,  and  others  of  the  like  na- 
ture, will  frequently  arise  in  the  thoughtful  breast,  and  at  cer- 
tain seasons  force  themselves  on  every  mind. 

But  whilst  they  remain  questions,  that  is,  whilst  the  judg- 
ment is  at  any  loss  to  determine  upon  their  truth,  or  is  dissuaded 
through  the  violence  of  depraved  passions,  from  pronouncing 
decisively  concerning  them,  a  man  cannot  fail  of  being  unhappy. 
Whilst  conscience  speaks  one  thing,  and  the  inclinations  an- 
other; whilst  reason  and  scripture  affirm,  and  sense  and  sin 
deny ;  whilst  the  man  knows  not  how  to  withhold  his  assent, 
and  yet,  unwilling  to  yield,  presses  every  little  objection  into 
the  service  of  unbelief;  whilst  I  say  this  is  the  case,  how  great 
must  be  the  perturbation  of  his  mind  !  He  neither  believes,  nor 
yet  disbelieves.  He  is  bewildered  with  doubts,  perplexed  with 
uncertainties,  tossed  from  one  extreme  to  another ;  and  in  short, 
like  the  dove  which  Noah  sent  out  of  the  ark,  finds  no  ground 
on  which  to  rest  the  sole  of  his  foot. 

Now  the  knowledge  and  experience  of  religion  sets  a  man  in 
a  good  measure  free  from  these  anxieties,  allays  this  ferment  in 
his  breast,  settles  his  hope  on  a  sure  foundation,  puts  an  end  to 
these  continual  struggles,  and  restores  an  agreeable  composure 
to  the  mind.  They  who  are  fond  of  improvements  in  natural 
knowledge,  are  sensible  enough  how  pleasant  the  transition  is, 
from  doubt  and  uncertainty  on  any  point,  to  full  and  clear  evi- 
dence.    But  the  pleasure  here  is  so  much  the  greater,  as  the 

VOL.  I.  K 


146  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

objects  of  divine  knowledge  are  more  excellent  and  important. 
Let  the  Christian  say,  who,  by  the  grace  of"  God,  hath  happily 
emerged  out  of  all  the  darkness  of  scepticism,  into  the  light  and 
faith  of  the  gospel;  what  anxieties  he  hath  been  relieved  of, 
and  what  tranquillity  and  pleasure  be  hath  of  consequence  en- 
joyed. Of  the  great  principles  of  religion,  he  is  satisfied  upon 
the  best  evidence ;  evidence  of  which  he  hath  been  enabled  to 
form  the  clearer  judgment,  by  having  the  embarrassments  and 
restraints  of  corrupt  inclinations  corrected  and  subdued ;  and 
evidence  which  hath  received  farther  confirmation,  from  the  in- 
fluence he  hath  found  these  principles  to  have  upon  his  heart 
and  life. 

And  how  pleasant  must  be  the  assent  which  the  mind  gives 
to  the  truth,  when  it  hath  thus  the  ready  concurrence  of  the 
will,  and  the  firm  supports  of  personal  experience  !  The  storm 
in  which  the  man  had  like  to  have  been  shipwrecked  now  sub- 
sides. The  darkness  which  before  surrounded  him  on  all  sides, 
now  clears  up.  And  whatever  contrary  winds  may  sometimes 
blow  upon  him,  yet  having  cast  anchor  on  the  promise  and  oath 
of  him  who  cannot  lie,  he  in  some  good  degree  rides  safe  and 
easy.  This  surely  is  a  most  desirable  state,  and  shews  the  in- 
finite excellence  of  real  religion,  which  thus  collects  the  scat- 
tered, wandering  and  uncertain  notions  of  the  mind,  as  it  were 
in  one  point,  and  so  frees  it  from  the  endless  perplexities  of 
doubt  and  scepticism. 

2.  Guilt  is  another,  and  indeed  the  principal  cause  of  inward 
uneasiness.  Nor  is  there  any  anguish  so  sharp  and  pungent, 
as  that  occasioned  by  remorse  of  conscience,  and  the  fear  of 
God's  displeasure.  The  spirit  of  a  man  may  sustain  his  in- 
firmities^ but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  hear  a  ?  Who  knoweth 
the  power  of  God's  anger :  according  to  his  fear  so  is  his 
%orath  b.  It  is  true  the  terror  which  guilt  excites,  does  not  in 
every  person  arise  to  the  like  height ;  but  is  proportioned  to  the 
sense  impressed  upon  the  heart,  of  the  evil  of  sin  and  its  just 
demerit.  Yet  the  very  consciousness  that  we  have  done  amiss, 
the  bare  imagination  that  God  is  displeased,  and  the  apprehen- 
sion alone,  of  some  inconvenience  which  our  guilt  may  bring 
upon  us,  must  needs  make  the  mind  uneasy.  How  can  a  man 
o  Prov.  xviii.  14.  b  Fsal.  xc.  11. 


OF  RELIGION.  147 

be  happy,  while  there  is  something  within  which  tells  him,  that 
he  is  not  what  he  should  be,  and  that  he  does  the  thing  he 
ought  not  to  do  ?  While  he  suspects  that  a  holy,  just  and 
powerful  God  is  his  enemy,  and  feels  some  forebodings  in  him- 
self of  future  judgment  and  misery  ? 

Men  do  indeed  by  various  ways  attempt  to  relieve  themselves 
of  these  uneasy  thoughts ;  some  by  flying  to  their  pleasures, 
and  putting  the  evil  day  at  a  distance ;  and  others  by  seeking 
a  retreat  in  infidelity,  or  resting  their  hopes  on  a  flattering  no- 
tion of  uncovenanted  mercy.  But  still  these  fears  will  fre- 
quently return  upon  them.  And  it  is  a  fact,  that  use  what  at- 
tempts they  will,  they  cannot  easily  persuade  themselves  to  be- 
lieve, that  they  have  not  deserved  something  which  is  bad  at 
the  hand  of  God,  and  that  a  day  of  reckoning  will  not,  sooner 
or  later,  come.  Now  such  apprehensions,  call  them  by  what 
name  you  please,  say  they,  are  the  effects  of  madness,  enthu- 
siasm or  superstition ;  yet  they  must  needs  be  very  troublesome 
to  a  man,  and  greatly  disturb  his  peace  and  comfort.  They 
must,  whenever  they  arise  in  his  mind,  embitter  his  sensual 
pleasures,  and  aggravate  his  worldly  sorrows.  There  is  no 
peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked :  they  are  like  the  tronbled 
sea,  when  it  cannot  rest,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt  a. 

How  great  then,  must  be  the  blessedness  of  true  religion, 
which  furnishes  a  remedy  for  all  these  complaints  !  Faith,  that 
grand  principle  of  divine  life,  presents  to  the  sinner's  view,  the 
amiable  character  of  Divine  rnercy,  supported  by  truth  and  jus- 
tice ;  shews  him  the  altar  of  burnt  offering,  witli  the  bleeding 
sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God  thereon  ;  then  pronounces  in  his 
ears,  with  a  small  and  still  voice,  the  free  pardon  of  all  his  sins 
through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  And  thus,  breaking  up  the 
springs  of  penitential  sorrow  in  his  heart,  it  relieves  him  of  the 
sad  and  gloomy  fears  which  before  oppressed  his  spirits.  It  is 
guilt  that  haunts  the  mind  with  melancholy.  That  therefore 
must  be  a  pleasant  thing,  though  infidelity  would  call  it  no 
better  than  a  charm,  which  drives  the  wretched  spectre  from  the 
breast,  and  restores  peace  and  cheerfulness  to  the  soul.  And  O 
what — what  can  do  this,  but  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ? 
Worldly  pleasures,  or  the  false  reasonings  of  self-deception,  may 
a  Isa.  Ivii.  20,  21. 
K  2 


14$  THr  PLEASANTNESS 

afford  some  temporary  relief;  but  it  is  only  temporary.  The 
enemy  quickly  returns  to  the  charge,  and  with  greater  fury 
than  before.  But  this  is  a  shield,  proof  against  the  most  vio- 
lent assaults  of  Satan.  This  is  balm  which  cannot  fail  of  heal- 
ing the  wounded  conscience.  Other  remedies  may  fondly 
promise  success  ;  yet  being  tried,  they  are  found  to  be  ineffectual. 
But  this  assures  us  of  relief  upon  the  most  satisfactory  consi- 
derations; and  as  it  comes  recommended  by  divine  authority, 
so  it  hath  the  support  of  innumerable  examples.  And  hoi;^ 
desirable  the  blessing,  to  have  a  calm  restored  to  the  tumul- 
tuous breast,  its  terrifying  fears  of  the  wrath  of  God  removed, 
and  peace  established  in  the  conscience  upon  a  sure  and  honour-* 
able  foundation  !   Well,  such  is  the  felicity  of  true  religion. 

To  which  ^it  must  be  added,  that  it  is  the  effectual  means  of 
preserving  the  Christian  from  a  great  deal  of  that  folly,  sin  and 
profaneness,  into  which  the  unbridled  passions  of  the  wicked 
hurry  them ;  and  consequently  of  securing  him  from  a  great 
deal  of  that  self-condemnation,  remorse  and  torment  which  they 
feel.  As  it  directs  us  to  the  proper  cure  for  our  guilty  fears ; 
so  being  cured,  it  teaches  us  how  the  health  and  tranquillity  of 
the  soul  is  to  be  preserved.     Once  more, 

3.  Another  cause  of  uneasiness  to  the  mind,  is  the  restlessness 
and  tiirbukiicy  of  imsanctified passions.  Infinite  is  the  mischief 
we  suffer  through  these  means.  It  is  to  the  folly  and  perverse- 
ness  of  our  own  hearts,  rather  than  the  events  and  occurrences 
of  life,  that  the  chief  part  of  our  troubles  is  to  be  imputed. 
How  do  pride,  envy,  covetousness,  impatience,  and  the  like  evil 
affections,  while  they  hold  a  man  in  subjection  to  their  cruel  do- 
minion, continually  distress  and  torment  him  !  They  cannot  al- 
ways be  gratified :  that  is  in  its  own  nature  impossible.  And 
being  thwarted  and  opposed,  what  a  wretched  tumult  do  they 
occasion  !  Would  we  frame  an  idea  of  misery,  we  need  only 
figure  to  ourselves  the  man  of  ambition,  denied  the  respect  and 
honour  he  haughtily  claims;  or  the  avaricious  man  disappointed  of 
his  expectations,  and  reduced  to  poverty ;  or  the  impatient  and 
self-willed  man  crossed  in  his  views  and  purposes.  He,  there- 
fore, who  throws  the  reins  on  the  neck  of  his  passions,  and  suf- 
fers them  to  have  the  controul,  is  his  own  enemy;  an  enemy  as 
well  to  his  peace  and  comfort,  as  his  honour  aud  usefulness. 


OP  RELIGION.  li§ 

Occasions  of  uneasiness  he  must  of  necessity  meet  with  every 
<lay  of  his  life,  and  the  indulgence  of  his  corruptions  must  ren- 
der that  uneasiness  unavoidable.  ^ 

Now  the  grace  of  God  removes,  at  least  in  a  degree,  this  sad 
cause  of  pain  and  trouble.  It  strikes  at  the  root  of  our  cor- 
ruptions, and  forbids  them  to  rule  and  tyrannize  in  the  heart. 
It  renews  and  sanctifies  the  passions.  It  makes  a  man  humble, 
contented,  patient  and  ready  to  forgive ;  and  so,  agreeably  to 
the  prevalence  of  these  virtues,  it  frees  him  from  the  restlessness 
and  misery  of  contrary  affections.  The  wicked  are  their  own 
tormentors.  But  he  who  fears  God,  whatever  pain  he  may  en- 
dure in  mortifying  his  irregular  appetites,  yet  hereby  escapes 
innumerable  anxieties  and  vexations,  in  which  the  indulgence  of 
them  would  necessarily  involve  him.  To  this  effect  our  Saviour 
speaks,  when,  having  proposed  himself  as  an  example  of  meek- 
ness and  humility,  he  assures  us,  that  by  learning  of  him^  we 
shall Jind  rest  to  our  souls  a. 

PART  II. 

We  have  seen  how  religion  tends  to  remove  the  principal 
causes  of  inward  disquietude.     Let  us  now  proceed, 

II.  To  consider  the  positive  joys  and  pleasures  which  accom- 
pany it.  And  here  I  shall  confine  myself  to  these  three  par- 
ticulars— the  rich  entertainment  it  affords  the  understanding — 
the  animating  hopes  and  comforts  of  which  it  possesses  the  heart 
— and  the  solid  satisfaction  and  pleasure  which  attend  the  prac- 
tice of  it. 

First,  The  discoveries  of  religion  afford  the  highest  enter- 
tainment to  the  understanding. 

This  they  must  needs  do  to  a  renewed  mind,  since,  for  their 
richness,  variety  and  importance,  they  infinitely  exceed  any 
other  whatsoever.  It  is  the  office  of  divine  wisdom  to  draw 
aside  the  vail  of  sense,  and  to  present  to  our  dark  and  benight- 
ed minds  the  most  amiable  of  all  objects,  the  ever-blessed  God, 
the  fountain  of  felicity  and  glory ;  to  reveal  to  us  the  counsels 
of  his  grace,  and  the  operations  of  his  hands ;  all  conducted 
with  infinite  wisdom,  goodness  and  truth,  and  all  exactly  Qor- 
responding  with  each  other ;  to  shew  us  his  only  begotten  Son, 
a  Matt.  xi.  29.  ^ 


150  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

the  grand  medium  of  communion  between  God  and  man,  de- 
scending from  the  realms  of  glory,  tabernacling  in  this  lower 
world,  leading  a  life  of  exalted  piety  and  obedience,  enduring  a 
painful  and  ignominious  death,  bursting  the  bands  of  the  grave, 
and,  in  our  nature,  ascending  triumphantly  up  into  heaven. 
It  is  the  friendly  office  of  this  wisdom  from  above,  to  point  out 
to  our  view  the  admirable  scheme  of  redemption,  by  the  obe- 
dience, death  and  resurrection  of  Christ ;  the  provisions  here- 
by made  for  the  honours  of  the  divine  law  and  government, 
and  for  the  hope  and  confidence  of  every  returning  penitent ; 
and  the  inestimable  blessings  hereby  procured,  of  pardon,  jus- 
tification, adoption  and  eternal  life  :  to  describe  the  Saviour 
in  his  personal  and  relative  excellencies,  arrayed  in  all  the  splen- 
dour of  proper  divinity,  tempered  with  all  the  mildness  and  con- 
descension of  sinless  humanity,  sustaining  every  character  and 
office  suited  to  the  various  exigencies  of  our  present  state,  and 
intrusted  with  the  infinitely  rich  and  incomparable  gifts  both 
of  grace  and  glory.  It  is  the  office  of  this  divine  instructor,  to 
assure  us  of  the  descent,  and  inhabitation  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
with  all  his  benign  and  heavenly  influences;  proceeding  from 
the  Father,  and  obtained  for  us  through  the  mediation  of  the 
Son ;  to  give  us  a  view  of  ourselves,  our  capacities,  interests, 
connections,  duties  and  hopes  ;  and,  in  a  word,  to  lead  us  into 
some  distant  acquaintance  with  the  world  to  come,  the  blessed 
spirits  we  are  there  to  associate  with,  the  business  we  are  to  be 
employed  about,  and  the  refined  and  everlasting  pleasures  we 
are  to  enjoy. 

Now  these,  together  with  many  other  sublime  and  heavenly 
truths,  are  the  subjects  to  which  religion  invites  our  attention. 
And  what  subjects  so  well  adapted  to  entertain  the  mind,  and 
improve  the  understanding,  even  though  we  considered  them  as 
speculations  only  !  But  when  we  enter  into  the  evidence  by 
which  they  are  supported,  and  reflect  on  their  matchless  excel- 
lence, and  their  prodigious  utility,  how  can  the  soul  of  man 
fail,  if  in  a  healthful  state,  of  feeling  a  seraphic  pleasure  in  the 
contemplation  of  them — A  pleasure  far  surpassing  that  which 
the  most  studious  mind  enjoys,  as  the  perquisite  of  all  that  pain 
and  labour  which  attend  the  investigation  of  natural  truth? 
This  is  knowledge  so  noble,  so  interesting,  so  important,  that 


OF  RELIGION.  151 

at  will  hardly  admit  of  a  comparison  with  any  other  whatsoever. 
/  count  all  things  but  loss  and  dung,  says  he  who  was  bred  at 
the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  ybr  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
Jesus,  my  Lord  a.  Nay  the  wisest  man  that  ever  lived,  hardly 
knew  how  to  be  profuse  enough  in  his  commendation  of  it,  as 
the  only  source  of  the  truest  pleasure  and  advantage.  Happy 
is  he  whofndeth  wisdom,  and  who  getteth  understanding.  The 
merchandise  of  it  is  better  than  the  merchandise  of  silver,  and 
the  gain  thereof  than  fim  gold  b. 

The  joy  which  some  have  felt  in  their  pursuit  of  divine  know- 
ledge, has  been  so  great,  that  they  have  forgot  their  necessary 
food,  have  been  for  a  while  wrapt  up  into  heaven,  and  have  be- 
come insensible  to  almost  every  thing  here  below.  It  was  a 
contemplation  on  these  subjects  that  so  ravished  the  heart  of 
David,  when  in  an  ecstacy  he  cried  out.  How  excellent  is  thy 
loving  kindness,  O  God  c  !  How  precious  are  thy  thoughts  unto 
me  !  How  great  is  the  sum  of  them  d  !  And  it  was  in  this  man- 
ner, we  may  reasonably  suppose,  the  great  apostle  was  employ- 
ed, when  he  was  caught  up  into  paradise,  and  knew  not  whether 
he  was  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body.  Here  then  there  is  all 
the  richness,  variety,  strangeness,  and  if  the  expression  may  be 
allowed,  all  the  novelty  which  can  be  desired,  to  make  this  know- 
ledge most  agreeable  and  entertaining.  Of  the  contemplative 
part  of  religion,  it  may  therefore  truly  be  said,  that  its  ways 
are  pleasantness,  and  its  paths  peace.     But  we  will  now  go  on, 

Secondly,  To  the  hopes  and  comforts  of  which  it  possesses 
the  heart. 

And  here  I  have  nothing  to  say  of  any  worldly  prospects  of 
wealth,  honour  or  pleasure.  I  have  no  gay  scene  of  glittering 
delights  to  present  to  the  youthful  imagination;  nor  any  high 
cordial  of  sensual  bliss  to  minister  to  the  carnal  heart.  None 
of  the  great  things  of  this  life  hath  Christ  insured  to  his  disci- 
ples, but  hath  rather  taught  them  to  expect  tribulation  in  their 
way  through  it.  Yet  he  hath  not  left  them  comfortless ;  but 
hath  provided  them  pleasures,  which,  as  they  are  spiritual,  so 
are  substantial  and  satisfying ;  pleasures  adapted  to  cheer  their 
breasts  amidst  the  most  painful  afflictions,  and  to  add  a  new 

a  Phil.  iii.  8.  b  Prov.  iii.  13,  14. 

V  Psal.  xxxvi.  7.  d  Psal.  cxxxix.^  17* 


'Aik- 


iSft  THf:  PLEASANTNESS 

relish  to  their  most  agreeable  outward  enjoyments.  And  what 
are  they  ?  why,  such  as  arise  from  a  peaceful  conscience — a  sense 
of  the  favour  of  God — faith  in  divine  providence — communion 
with   heaven — and  the  hope  of  eternal  life. 

1.  How  desirable  a  blessing  is  peace  ofc6nscience  !  The  ter- 
rors of  an  awakened  breast  and  of  a  self-accusing  heart,  are  most 
dreadful  indeed,  as  we  have  already  seen.  Tliey  spread  a  gloom 
wherever  they  are  felt,  over  all  the  cheerful  scenes  of  lif6,  unfit 
a  man  for  his  duties  and  enjoyments,  impair  his  health,  eat  intd 
his  very  vitals,  and  if  not  removed,  or  at  least  abated,  bring 
death  and  destruction  after  them.  How  happy  then  to  have  all 
ieasy,  quiet  and  serene  within  !  So  sensible  are  even  bad  men 
themselves  of  the  importance  of  this,  that  if  they  cannot  obtain 
peace  with  conscience,  that  mighty  enemy,  on  safe  and  honour- 
able terms,  they  will  bribe  him  into  a  reconciliation,  or  else  will 
try  their  utmost  to  lay  violent  hands  upon  his  life. 

But  is  it  not  infinitely  better,  to  have  conscience  in  a  sound, 
healthful,  friendly  state  ?  Such  then  is  the  happiness  of  the  man 
of  religion,  the  man  who,  believing  in  Christ,  walks  humbly 
with  God  in  the  course  of  his  duty.  Amidst  his  daily  weak- 
nesses and  infirmities,  which  are  also  the  occasions  of  daily  sor- 
row and  humiliation,  it  is  his  care  to  avoid  sin.  And  though 
he  dare  not  flatter  himself  with  any  idea  of  perfection,  or  avail 
himself  of  any  supposed  merit  of  his  own  before  God,  yet,  hum- 
bly hoping  his  heart  is  right  with  God,  he  cheerfully  sets  about 
the  business  of  his  station,  quietly  submits  to  the  disappoint- 
ments he  meets  with,  and  pleasantly  enjoys  the  fruit  of  his  la- 
bour. This  is  his  rejoicing,  the  testimony  o/*his  conscience,  that 
in  simplicity,  and  godly  sincerity,  not  with  fleshly  loisdom,  but 
by  the  grace  of  God,  he  hath  his  conversation  in  the  world  a. 

2.  What  substantial  felicity  must  there  be  in  a  sense  of  God's 
favour  /  To  have  God  for  our  enemy,  is  to  be  exposed  to  the 
greatest  mischiefs  and  dangers  imaginable ;  and  even  to  appre- 
hend this  to  be  the  case,  is  very  distressing.  But  it  is  the 
business  of  religion  to  free  a  man  from  these  anxious  and  fear- 
ful apprehensions,  and  to  possess  him  of  the  contrary  views  and 
Sentiments.  Faith  in  the  gospel  of  Christ  clears  up  his  doubts 
upon  those  points,  which  are  most  apt  to  strengthen  and  exas- 

a  2  Cor.  i.  12. 


OF  RELlGlOif.  153 

perate  the  fears  of  natural  conscience,  such  as  the  justice  and 
veracity  of  God,  the  thrcatenings  of  his  law,  and  the  miseries  of 
the  present  life.  And  while  it  convinces  him  that  God  can  be 
just,  when  he  justifies  him  who  believes  in  Jesus,  it  inspires  a 
humble  hope  in  his  breast,  that  he  will  be  merciful  to  his  un- 
righteousness, and  will  remember  his  iniquities  no  more.  80 
the  heavy  burden  which  had  oppressed  his  heart  is  removed  ;  the 
dark  cloud  which  had  been  gathering  around  his  mind  is  dis- 
pelled; and  the  sun  of  righteousness  arises  upon  his  broken 
and  disconsolate  spirits,  with  heahng  under  his  wings.  God  be- 
comes his  friend,  and  in  his  favour  is  life.  All  his  perfections 
are  propitious  to  him,  and  he  rejoices  in  their  influence.  Trust- 
ing in  him  as  his  refuge,  he  is  secure  from  every  danger ;  and 
hoping  in  him  as  his  portion,  he  is  blessed  with  every  good. 

If  the  favour  of  an  earthly  prince  makes  a  man's  countenance 
shine,  puts  joy  into  his  heart,  and  adds  strength  to  his  hands, 
what  a  happy  effect  must  a  sense  of  his  favour  produce,  who 
reigns  over  the  universe,  and  hath  all  things  at  his  disposal  ! 
It  was  this  blessing  the  psalmist  wished  to  enjoy,  when,  amidst 
the  sovereign  contempt  he  felt  for  every  thing  in  comparison 
with  God,  he  thus  poured  out  his  soul  to  Heaven,  Lord,  lift 
thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon  me  a.  And  it  was  the 
infinite  pleasantness  of  this  great  blessing  he  meant  to  describe, 
when  in  the  next  verse  he  adds,  Thou  hast  put  gladness  in  my 
heart,  more  than  in  the  time  tliat  their  corn  and  their  wine  increas^ 
ed  b.  And  who  can  forbear  envying  the  prophet  Asaph  of  the  hap- 
piness he  so  sensibly  experienced,  when  he  addressed  his  God  in 
those  passionate  words,  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  hut  thee  ?  and 
there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  besides  thee  c.  And  hence 
we  are  naturally  led  to  reflect, 

3.  On  the  comfort  that  arises  out  of  a  firm  faith  of  divine 
providence,  which  is  another  branch  of  religion.  That  the  great 
God  concerns  himself  as  well  about  the  affairs  of  individuals,  as 
of  the  world  in  general,  is  a  clear  doctrine  of  revelation,  nor  is 
there  any  one  principle  in  nature  to  contradict  it.  And  how  ad- 
mirably is  this  truth  adapted,  on  the  one  hand,  to  soothe  the 
breast  of  the  good  man  amidst  the  perplexities  and  disappoint- 
ments of  life ;  and  on  the  other,  to  infuse  an  additional  sweet- 
a  Tsal.  iv.  6.  b  Ver.  7.  c  Fsal.  Ixxiii.  23. 


154  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

ness  and  pleasure  into  all  the  unexpected  successes  of  it !  It  is 
impossible,  if  his  religion  has  that  influence  on  his  mind,  which 
it  may  and  ought  to  have,  but  that  he  should  stand  firm  in  a 
time  of  trial,  and  enjoy  a  degree  of  composure  at  least,  when 
sadness  and  misery  sit  upon  the  face  of  every  surrounding  ob- 
ject. Animated  with  this  truly  noble  and  rational  principle,  he 
■will  behave  with  a  heroism  far  superior  to  that  which  is  the  fruit 
of  stoical  insensibility.  So  that  amidst  all  the  feelings  of  hu- 
manity, of  which  he  is  susceptible  in  common  with  others,  we 
shall  find  him  thus  silently  reasoning  with  himself — "  God  is 
infinitely  wise  and  good.  The  reins  of  government  are  in  his 
hands  ;  and  he  manages  all  things  well.  I  am  afilicted ;  but  it 
is  God  who  afflicts  me,  and  in  afflicting  me,  he  consults  my 
good  as  well  as  his  own  glory.  Be  calm,  then,  all  ye  angry  pas- 
sions of  my  mind.  Father,  thy  will  be  done.  To  thee  I  refer 
my  concerns.  On  thee  I  cast  my  burden,  for  thou  carest  for 
me."  Now  this  temper,  as  it  is  most  fit  and  reasonable  in  it- 
self, so  it  tends  to  lighten  the  burden  of  our  afflictions,  or 
to  strengthen  us  to  endure  it.  And  what  is  this  temper  but  re- 
ligion ?  To  what  does  it  owe  its  existence,  but  to  the  grace  of 
God? 

And  on  the  other  hand,  you  easily  see  how  the  flavour  of 
every  earthly  enjoyment,  must  needs  be  heightened  and  refined, 
by  a  due  regard  had  to  the  influence  of  divine  providence  there- 
in. "  This,  says  the  good  man,  is  a  cordial  sent  me  from  hea- 
ven. The  hand  that  prepares  and  administers  it,  puts  joy  into 
it,  and,  at  the  same  time,  provides  against  any  undue  effect  of 
it.  It  is  the  fruit  of  his  goodness  and  love.  As  such  I  relish 
it,  as  such  I  acknowledge  it,  as  such  I  would  use  it  to  his  glory. 
The  consideration  of  his  kindness,  whilst  it  increases  my  plea- 
sure, prevents  my  ungratefully  dishonouring  him,  or  foolishly 
injuring  myself,  by  transferring  my  affections  from  the  Giver, 
to  the  bounty  itself  he  thus  generously  bestows."  So  you  see 
how  pleasant  a  life  he  must  live,  in  whose  breast  the  cordial  be- 
lief of  a  providence  triumphs  over  all  the  madness  and  folly  of 
atheism  and  infidelity.     But  again, 

4.  The  pleasures  of  a  religious  life  are  still  farther  heightened 
and  improved,  by  that  communion  with  God,  to  which  the  Chris- 
tian is  on  some  occasions  admitted.     Happiness  consists  much 


Jfei 


OF  RELIGION.  155 

in  society.  And  the  pleasures  of  society  consist  in  a  communion 
of  sentiment  and  affection.  And  these  pleasures  are  more  or 
less  refined  and  exalted,  according  to  the  excellence  and  perfec- 
tion of  those  with  whom  we  associate.  Now,  as  the  pleasures 
which  men  of  refined  wit  and  learning  enjoy  in  each  other's  so- 
ciety, far  exceed  those  of  brutal  sensualists  or  sordid  worldlings; 
so,  upon  the  very  same  principle,  the  pleasures  which  Christians 
enjoy  in  communion  with  God,  may  be  supposed  to  exceed 
those  of  the  wisest  sages,  or  the  most  ingenious  philosophers. 
With  no  one  can  we  converse,  so  great  and  glorious,  so  amiable 
and  excellent  as  God.  It  is  true,  he  is  a  Spirit,  invisible  and 
incomprehensible;  whence  communion  with  him  may  to  some 
persons  seem  a  very  mysterious  thing.  Yet  if  among  men,  it 
be  no  other  than  a  mutual  exchange  of  ideas  and  affections,  why 
should  it  be  thought  strange,  that  an  intercourse,  somewhat  si- 
milar to  this,  should  subsist  between  God  and  his  people  ?  Why 
should  it  be  thought  strange,  that  whilst  they  are  employed  in 
contemplating  his  perfections  and  will,  in  his  word  and  works, 
and  in  pouring  out  their  souls  at  his  feet,  in  love,  confidence, 
and  praise,  he  should  condescend  to  irradiate  their  minds  with 
bright  conceptions  of  himself,  and  to  gladden  their  hearts  with 
a  lively  sense  of  his  favour  ? 

And  think  you  it  can  be  otherwise,  than  that  a  good  man 
should  feel  inward  delight  and  joy,  in  thus  surveying  the  image 
of  the  blessed  God,  drawn  out  on  the  works  of  his  hands,  in 
thus  drinking  in  the  pure  satisfaction  of  being  interested  in  his 
love,  and  in  thus  giving  back  his  heart  to  God  in  cheerful  re- 
sentments of  gratitude  and  praise  ?  God  is  the  fountain  of  all 
good.  Yet  the  generality  stop  short  of  the  fountain,  and  con- 
tent themselves,  regardless  of  God,  with  the  distant  streams  of 
his  bounty,  and  which  they  have  first  polluted  with  their  own 
lawless  passions.  But  the  Christian,  by  conversing  with  hea- 
ven, is  led  up  to  the  source  of  all  good,  and  there,  sometimes 
with  expanding  desires  and  improving  capacities,  takes  in  his 
fill  of  pure  joys  and  refreshing  delights.  O  happy  souls,  who 
are  thus  for  a  while  absorbed  in  God,  wrapt  up  to  heaven  in 
holy  meditations,  and  made  to  taste  at  least  of  the  river  ofplea- 
mre^  which  proceeds  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb  ! 
With  Peter  upon  the  mount  of  transfiguration,  they  say.  It  is 


156  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

good  to  he  here  a  !  and  with  the  two  disciples,  after  their  having 
been  entertained  with  our  Saviour's  company  to  Enimaus,  Did 
not  ow  hearts  burn  within  us,  while  he  talked  with  us  by  the 
tvay,  and  while  he  opened  to  us  the  scriptures  b  ?  But  there  is, 

5.  One  more  source  of  pleasure,  which  religion  supplies,  and 
that  is,  the  hope  of  eternal  life.  It  hath  often  been  remarked 
of  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  that  they  are,  for  the  most  part, 
greater  in  expectation  than  enjoyment.  So  that  the  chief  hap- 
piness of  even  a  man  of  the  world  may  be  said  to  con&ist  in 
hope.  And  what  makes  this  passion,  when  thus  fixed  on  sub- 
lunary enjoyments,  so  cheerful  and  enlivening,  is,  that  the  ob- 
jects it  proposes  are  most  agreeable  to  animal  nature  ;  that  our 
imagination  heightens  their  excellence;  that  we  flatter  our- 
selves we  shall  assuredly  enjoy  them ;  and  that  the  possession 
of  them  seems  nigh  at  hand.  But,  methinks,  it  must  con- 
Isiderably  lessen  this  sort  of  pleasure,  when  we  reflect,  that  ex- 
perience is  every  day  giving  fresh  proof  of  the  deceitfulness  of 
all  worldly  expectations,  both  in  regard  of  the  value  of  the 
things  themselves,  and  the  uncertainty  of  obtaining  them. 
At  a  distance  they  appear  excessively  alluring,  but  they  sicken 
in  the  enjoyment :  and  when  we  imagine  ourselves  on  the  point 
of  possessing  them,  they  often  elude  our  embraces. 

Now,  on  the  other  hand,  though  the  objects  of  religious  hope 
are  spiritual,  invisible  and  distant,  yet  faith  puts  a  reality,  im- 
portance and  excellence  into  them,  which  it  is  easy  to  see,  must 
heighten  the  pleasure  arising  from  the  certain  expectation  of 
them,  greatly  beyond  any  worldly  prospect.  We  are  sure 
the  things  to  be  enjoyed,  cannot  be  estimated  above  their  real 
value,  yea  that  it  has  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  con- 
ceive how  great  and  good  they  are.  The  evidence  of  their 
existence  will  not  admit  of  a  reasonable  doubt.  The  hope  of 
enjoying  them,  if  built  on  Christ  alone,  and  productive  of  purity 
in  our  lives,  cannot  deceive.  And  then  as  to  the  period  of  our 
possessing  them,  we  know  not  but  it  is  nigh  at  hand :  the  dis- 
tance, however,  imagine  it  what  you  will,  is,  on  various  ac- 
counts, very  trifling  and  inconsiderable.  Does  it  not  follow 
then,  that  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  thus  prevailing  in  the  breast, 
under  the  conduct  of  a  lively  faith,  must  be  fruitful  of  the  most 
a  Luke  ix.  33.  *  Chap.  xxiv.  32. 


OF  RELIGION.  167 

refined  and  substantial  pleasure  to  a  renewed  mind  ?  "  It  is 
such  a  blessed  hope,  that  every  soul  ought  to  be  charmed  and 
transported  with  it,"  said  a  Heathen,  even  while  he  acknow- 
ledged it  to  be  a  matter  of  probability  only — a  kind  o{  venture  a. 
Think  then  what  the  Christian  may  be  supposed  to  enjoy,  when 
faith  supported  by  the  noblest  evidence,  transports  liim  beyond 
the  line  of  time,  lands  him  on  the  shore  of  everlasting  happi- 
ness, and  introduces  him  into  the  society  of  the  blessed  :  what 
he  must  feel,  while  he  beholds  him  who  is  invisible,  converses 
with  the  infinitely  adorable  Jesus  in  his  exalted  state,  and  rea- 
lizes the  honours,  employments  and  pleasures  of  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect :  what  joy,  in  a  word,  must  circulate 
about  his  heart,  while  he  is  told,  that  all  this  felicity  and  glory 
is  his,  and  that  ere  long  he  shall  be  put  into  the  fuU  and  ever* 
lasting  possession  of  it. 

Such  then  are  the  comforts  with  which  religion  inspires  the 
heart — peace  of  conscience — a  sense  of  God's  favour — faith  in 
divine  providence — communion  with  heaven — and  the  joyful 
hope  of  a  happy  immortality. 

PART  III. 

From  the  view  we  have  taken  of  the  entertainment  which 
the  great  truths  of  religion  afford  to  the  understanding,  and  of 
the  joy  with  which  the  hopes  and  promises  of  it  cheer  and  re- 
fresh the  heart,  we  proceed  to  consider. 

Thirdly,  The  solid  satisfaction  and  pleasure  there  is  in  the 
practice  of  it.  And  here  we  shall  have  our  eye  both  on  the  ge- 
neral temper  and  conduct  which  religion  enjoins,  and  on  the  par* 
ticular  duties  of  devotion  and  worship  it  requires. 

1.  As  to  the  general  temper  and  conduct  which  religion 
teaches  and  recommends.  It  hath  been  already  acknowledged, 
that  some  of  the  graces  requisite  to  form  the  character  of  a 
good  man,  are,  by  reason  of  the  corruption  of  human  nature, 
and  our  particular  connections  and  situations  in  life,  attended 
with  their  peculiar  discouragements.  Repentance,  humility, 
patience  and  self-denial,  cannot  be  mentioned,  without  convey- 
ing the  idea  of  uneasiness  and  pain.      The  sacrifices  of  God  are 

a  — KaXof    ya^  o  xivivii(^,  x.ai  ^pri  rit   rtiavra  uffTt'i^  ivuieit   't»uru.      Pl~\T. 
PtLtEB.  p.  180.  edit.  Cantab. 


158 


THE  PLEASANTNESS 


a  broken  spirit,  and  a  contrite  heart  a.  The  disciples  of  Christ 
must  he  poor  in  spirit  b.  We  are  to  crucify  the  flesh  with  the 
affections  and  lusts  c  ;  to  endure  afflictions  d  :  and  instead  of 
avenging  owselves  of  those  that  injure  us,  we  are  rather  to  give 
place  unto  wrath,  and  to  overcome  evil  with  good  e.  And  it  is 
in  respect  of  all  this,  as  well  as  the  affliction  itself  of  an  outward 
kind  to  which  the  profession  of  religion  will  sometimes  expose 
us,  that  the  gate  is  said  to  be  strait,  and  the  way  narrow,  that 
leads  to  Ufef. 

But  however  sharp  the  discipline  of  the  heart  may  seem, 
and  most  certainly  is,  yet  we  may  safely  affirm,  that  it  is  not 
only  the  way  to  pleasure,  but  it  hath  a  degree  of  pleasure  in- 
termixed with  it.  And  though  it  is  hard  to  gain  the  mastery 
over  our  lusts,  yet  the  victory  being  in  some  measure  obtained, 
we  rejoice.  He  whose  appetites  are  subdued  and  brought  under 
the  restraints  of  reason,  feels  greater  satisfaction  in  a  seasonable 
abstinence  from  sensual  gratifications,  than  others  do  in  excess. 
The  philosopher,  therefore,  well  replied,  when  he  was  blamed 
by  his  friend  for  not  indulging  himself  at  an  entertainment, 
"  That  he  abstained  for  the  same  reason  that  the  other  ex- 
ceeded, that  was,  for  his  pleasure."  So,  farther,  though  the 
pangs  of  an  awakened  conscience  are  bitter  and  painful,  yet  the 
relcntings  of  ingenuous  sorrow  are  soft  and  pleasing.  And 
though  persecution  is  far  from  being  agreeable  to  flesh  and 
blood,  yet  there  is  a  sweetness  and  pleasure  in  those  sensations 
of  divine  love,  which  determine  us  to  suffer  for  our  Master,  ra- 
ther than  deny  him.  Nay  our  Saviour,  by  bidding  his  perse- 
cuted followers  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad  g,  supposes  it 
more  than  a  possible  thing,  for  the  mind  of  a  good  man  to  be 
cheerful  amidst  the  greatest  outward  troubles.  A  truth  this 
sufficiently  verified  by  history  and  experience'.  So  that  even 
the  most  irksome  part  of  religion,  if  any  of  it  may  be  so 
styled,  is  not  without  its  pleasures. 

And  then  as  to  those  other  graces  which  enter  into  the  cha- 
racter of  a  Christian,  they  manifestly  bring  their  own  reward 
with  them.     Faith,  hope,  and  love,  having  the  greatest  good  for 


a  Psal.  li,  17. 
d  2  Tim.  iv.  5. 
g  Matt.  Y.  12. 


b  IMatt.  V.  3. 

e  Rom.  xii.  19—21. 


c  Gal.  Y.  24.. 
/Matt.  vii.  U. 


OF  RELIGION.  159 

their  object,  do  tlucctly  tend,  not  to  vex,  distress  and  torment, 
but  to  soothe,  delight  and  ravish  the  heart.  We  have  already 
seen  how  pleasant  a  thing  it  is  to  converse  with  God,  confide 
in  him,  and  love  him.  But  to  descend  from  these,  the  noblest 
exercises  of  religion,  to  the  practice  of  its  sacred  dictates  towards 
our  fellow-creatures.  Say,  you  who  have  walked  in  the  ways 
of  truth,  justice  and  holiness,  and  in  the  paths  of  friendship, 
sympathy  and  love,  whether  these  are  not  ivays  of  pleasantness, 
and  paths  of  peace!  To  a  mind  formed  after  the  image  of  the 
infinitely  pure  and  righteous  God,  a  base  and  dishonourable 
action  must  be  an  unnatural  and  painful  thing.  How  great  then 
the  satisfaction  of  doing  unto  others,  as  we  would  have  them  do 
unto  us  !  And  how  still  more  exalted  the  pleasure  of  doing  them 
such  acts  of  kindness,  as  they  have  no  equitable  claim  to,  and  of 
which  indeed  there  are  few  examples  in  this  inhospitable  world  ! 
Say,  O  say,  Christian,  is  it  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  go  about 
doing  good?  Have  not  you  often  felt  the  truth  of  what  was  fre- 
quently on  your  Master's  lips.  That  it  is  more  blessed  to  give 
than  to  receive  a  ?  Is  there  not  a  peculiar  sweetness  and  agree- 
ableness  in  that  compassion,  which  makes  you  a  sharer  with  all 
around  you  in  their  distresses  ?  And  does  not  that  love,  which 
knits  your  hearts  to  your  fellow-Christians  in  the  sacred  bonds 
of  divine  friendship,  make  you  truly  happy  ?  Wherein  consists 
the  chief  felicity  of  heaven  but  in  the  tender  endearments  of 
pure  love,  and  the  substantial  joys  of  mutual  benevolence  ? 
What  then  is  this  part  of  the  practice  of  religion,  but  the  begin- 
ning, the  budding,  the  early  dawn  of  that  bliss  ?  In  short,  what 
grace  is  there  which  the  Bible  recommends,  whether  it  respect 
God,  ourselves,  or  one  another,  which  has  not  as  well  the  most 
powerful  charms  to  captivate  a  renewed  heart,  as  it  hath  the 
most  forcible  arguments  to  convince  an  upright  mind  ?  And  if 
there  be  this  solid  satisfaction  and  pleasure  attending  the  gene- 
ral temper  and  conduct,  which  religion  enjoins,  the  like  may  be 
truly  affirmed, 

2.  Of  the  particular  duties  of  devotion  and  worship.  There  is 

little  indeed  in  the  forms  of  religion  themselves  that  is  either 

pleasant  or  profitable.     Wherefore  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at, 

that  they  who  neither  understand  their  meaning,  nor  enter  into 

a  Acts  XX.  35. 


160  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

the  spirit  of  what  is  expressed  by  them,  should  soon  grow  w6ary 
of  them.  Nor  is  it  to  be  doubted,  that  most  men  would  en- 
tirely lay  aside  positive  duties,  if  it  were  not  for  the  force  of 
education  and  example;  and  if  the  tediousness  of  them  were 
not  in  some  sort  compensated,  by  the  external  pomp  and  cere- 
mony which  human  authority  has  annexed  to  them.  But 
however  disagreeable  the  forms  of  religion  may  be,  in  all  their 
native  simplicity,  to  a  carnal  mind,  yet  the  spirit  of  vital  god- 
liness infuses  a  real  pleasure  into  them,  so  that  these  services 
which  would  otherwise  be  dull  and  irksome,  become  cheerful 
and  entertaining. 

Will  you  say.  Christian,  it  is  a  hard  service  to  profess  your 
faith  in  Christ,  and  your  subjection  to  his  authority,  by  being 
baptized  into  his  name,  and  attending  on  the  memorials  of  his 
death?  No;  it  is  rather  in  your  apprehension  pleasant,  thus  to 
express  your  cordial  affection  to  his  person  and  interests,  and 
your  infinite  obligations  to  his  compassion  and  love,  especially 
when  he  deigns  to  crown  these  institutions  with  his  gracious 
and  enlivening  presence.  Will  you  say  that  prayer  is  a  tedious, 
lifeless,  unavailing  exercise  ?  No ;  you  will  give  a  very  different 
account  of  it,  when  you  have  been  pouring  out  your  heart  in 
public,  in  the  family,  or  in  the  closet,  with  that  faith,  contrition 
and  fervency  which  the  nature  of  this  duty  requires.  I  will  add, 
to  read  the  Scriptures,  to  hear  them  explained,  and  to  unite  with 
others  in  praising  God  for  his  manifold  goodness,  are  services 
as  entertaining  and  pleasing  to  a  good  man,  when  in  a  proper 
frame  of  mind,  as  they  are  instructive  and  useful.  These  things 
speak  for  themselves.  A  heart  duly  impressed  with  the  truth, 
excellence  and  importance  of  the  great  concerns  of  religion,  can- 
not but  taste,  on  some  occasions  at  least,  a  peculiar  sweetness  in 
these  divine  and  spiritual  exercises.  O  how  I  love  thy  law ! 
says  David,  it  is  my  meditation  all  the  day  a.  It  is  sweeter  to 
me  than  honey,  and  the  honey-comb  b.  Thy  statutes  have  been 
my  songs  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrimage  c.  How  amiable  are 
thy  tabernacles,  O  Lord  of  Hosts  !  My  sold  longetJi,  yea  even 
faintethfor  the  courts  of  the  Lord ;  my  heart  and  my  flesh  crieth 
out  for  the  living  God.  Blessed  are  they  that  dwell  in  thy 
house ;  they  will  be  still  praising  thee.     A  day  in  thy  courts  is 

a  Psal.  cxix.  97.  6  PsaJ.  xix.  10.  c  Psal.  cxix.  SI. 


OF  RELIGION.  161 

better  than  a  thousand.     I  had  rather  he  a  door-keeper  in  the 
house  of  my  God,  than  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of  wickedness  a. 

Thus  have  I  endeavoured  to  prove  to  you  the  pleasantness  of 
religion,  from  a  contemplation  of  the  reason  and  nature  of  the 
thing,  and  from  the  concurrent  testimony  of  wise  and  good  men. 
It  tends  to  remove  the  principal  causes  of  inward  uneasiness  and 
trouble,  such  as  doubt  and  uncertainty,  guilt  and  fear,  and  the 
restlessness  and  turbulency  of  unsanctified  passions.  And  it 
ministers  the  highest  occasions  of  joy  and  pleasure;  it  affords 
the  richest  entertainment  to  the  understanding;  it  possesses  the 
heart  of  the  most  animating  hopes  and  comforts ;  and  there  is 
solid  satisfaction  in  the  exercise  of  its  several  graces,  and  the 
practice  of  its  several  duties. 

Let  us  now  make  some  improvement  of  the  subject. 

1.  How  very  unfair  is  their  account  of  the  ways  of  wisdom, 
who  represent  them  as  rough,  tiresome  and  unpleasant  !  But 
who  are  they  who  bring  us  this  report  of  them?  They  are 
either  such  as  have  never  walked  in  the  ways  of  religion,  or 
those  who,  if  they  have  taken  a  few  steps  therein,  have  quickly 
turned  back.  Wherefore  they  are  incompetent  judges,  and  so 
not  to  be  regarded.  Besides,  they  are  prejudiced  in  favour  of 
the  world,  and  their  own  depraved  inclinations,  and  so  their  tes- 
timony is  partial,  and  on  that  account  not  to  be  credited.  They 
are  indeed  the  majority ;  but  since  they  speak  a  language  con- 
trary to  reason  itself,  and  to  the  sense  and  experience  of  the 
wisest  and  best  men,  this  consideration  ought  to  ffive  no  wei<jht 
to  what  they  say.  If  it  was  criminal  in  the  Israelites  to  pay- 
greater  regard  to  the  report  of  the  ten  spies,  who  were  sent  to 
search  out  the  good  land,  than  to  that  of  their  two  fellows,  Ca- 
leb and  Joshua;  it  is  still  more  criminal  in  us,  to  give  heed  to 
the  calumnies  of  those  who  know  less  of  religion,  than  those 
others  could  be  supposed  to  know  of  the  fair  and  pleasant  coun- 
try of  Canaan.  Do  not  therefore  believe  them,  when  they  tell 
you,  that  the  sure  way  to  be  unhappy,  is  to  be  religious. 

And  as  to  those  truly  good  men,  who  by  their  gloomy  coun- 
tenances and  reserved  behaviour,  give  others  an  unfavourable 
opinion  of  the  ways  of  God ;  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  those 
appearances  are  owing,  either  to   some  fault  in  their  natural 

a  Psal.  Ixxxiv.  1,  2,  4—10. 
V.OL.  I.  L 


162  THE   PLEASANTNESS 

temper,  or  to  their  having  been  more  conversant  with  the  diffi- 
cuhies  than  the  pleasures  of  religion.  If  indeed  their  deficiency 
in  point  of  mirth  and  jollity,  is  the  consideration  whence  you  in- 
fer that  they  are  unhappy,  you  reason  very  falsely.  These  are 
insufficient  and  mistaken  proofs  of  real  cheerfulness  and  plea- 
sure. The  laughter  of  the  fool,  said  the  wise  man,  is  as  the 
crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot  a.  There  may  be,  and  there 
generally  is,  more  solid  satisfaction  and  comfort  in  that  man's- 
heart,  who  is  of  a  grave  countenance  and  sober  deportment,  than 
in  his,  who  hath  little  else  to  recommend  him,  except  the  gaiety 
of  his  external  appearance.  But,  admitting  that  there  are  some 
Christians  of  a  peculiarly  reserved  and  forbidding  carriage,  this 
is  to  be  imputed,  as  I  said,  to  their  natural  make :  and  it  is  not 
to  be  questioned,  that  if  they  had  known  nothing  of  religion, 
these  ill  qualities  would,  notwithstanding  have  been  sufficiently 
expressed  in  their  behaviour.  And,  even  though  it  be  a  truth, 
that  the  unpleasant  air  we  see  on  their  countenances,  is  some- 
times owing  to  the  sorrowful  feehngs  of  their  hearts ;  yet,  if 
you  ask  them,  they  will  freely  tell  you,  that  all  these  their  sad 
complaints  arise  from  the  remains  of  unbelief  and  sin,  and  not 
from  any  real  defect  in  religion  itself.  That  they  firmly  be- 
lieve is  the  most  cheerful  enlivening  thing  in  the  whole  world; 
and  they  have  found  it  so,  on  some  occasions  at  least,  in  their 
own  happy  experience.  It  is  therefore  an  unfair  account  of 
the  ways  of  wisdom,  that  they  are  all  rough,  tiresome  and  un- 
pleasant. The  contrary  hath  1  hope  been  fully  proved.  Let 
me  however,  before  I  dismiss  this  particular,  caution  the  real 
friends  of  Jesus  to  guard  against  such  an  appearance  and  deport- 
ment, as  may  at  all  contribute  to  strengthen  the  prejudices  of 
ignorant  and  worldly  men. 

2.  If  the  ways  of  religion  are  peaceful  and  pleasant,  what  pity 
is  it  that  they  are  so  little  frequented  !  Multitudes  we  see  flock- 
ing down  the  broad  road  to  destruction,  while  this  which  leads 
to  eternal  life  is  considered  as  a  bye  and  gloomy  path.  Mourn- 
ful reflection  indeed  !  A  reflection  which  sometimes  saddens 
the  heart  of  the  compassionate  Christian  amidst  all  his  joys.  O 
that  men  were  wise,  that  they  understood  this,  that  they  would 
consider  their  own  true  interests  !  Be  persuaded,  O  vain  and 
a  Eccl.  vii.  6. 


OF  RELIGION.  163 

fooHsh  man,  to  spend  a  few  moments  in  comparing  the  way  you 
are  in,  with  that  I  have  been  describing.  And  then  let  your 
reason  and  conscience  decide  the  question,  which  of  the  two  is 
most  ehgible. 

The  way  you  at  present  choose,  may  have  its  pleasures.  It 
is  broad,  straight  and  smooth.  You  endure  perhaps  little  weari- 
ness in  travelling  this  road.  It  is  easy  to  the  flesh,  and  admits 
of  gratifications  to  which  your  corrupt  nature  is  strongly  prone. 
You  meet  with  few  to  molest  and  trouble  you  ?  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, many  who  earnestly  solicit  you  to  go  forv/ards.  The 
company  you  like.  And  the  scenes  which  open  upon  you  as 
you  pass,  are  very  enchanting  ;  especially  while  the  bright  beams 
of  prosperity  gladden  your  way.  But,  admitting  that  it  were  as 
pleasant  a  road  as  imagination  can  represent  it,  and  that  you 
were  scarce  ever  to  feel  any  thing  within  to  disturb  or  make  you 
uneasy;  yet,  if,  after  a  few  months  or  years,  it  should  hurry 
you  into  a  land  of  misery,  darkness  and  despair,  how  foolish  as 
well  as  wretched  will  your  choice  have  been  !  That  this  hath 
been  the  sad  lot  of  many  who  have  gone  before  you,  is  not  rea- 
sonably to  be  questioned.  There  is  a  faithful  witness,  I  mean 
him  that  cannot  lie,  who  tells  you  as  you  pass  on  the  way,  that 
the  end  will  be  shame  and  ruin  a.  And  not  a  few,  while  they 
have  stood  trembling  at  the  gates  of  death,  have  loudly  warned 
the  multitudes  who  were  crowding  after  them,  of  the  miseries 
approaching.  If  therefore  you  were  to  credit  their  testimony, 
or  only  to  advert  to  it  as  a  probable  matter ;  methinks  you 
must  needs  be  unhappy.  But  however  this  may  be,  tell  me  if 
your  own  experience  hath  not  pronounced  the  gratifications  of 
sense  unsatisfying ;  if  you  have  not  often  felt  disappointment 
and  vexation  amidst  your  most  eager  pursuits;  and  if  the  bitter 
reflections  of  your  conscience  on  some  occasions,  have  not  more 
than  balanced  all  your  transient  joys  and  pleasures  ? 

And  now  turn  your  eyes  to  the  paths  of  Wisdom,  or  let  the 
men  who  have  trodden  them  describe  them  to  you.  They  seem 
at  first  view  perhaps,  narrow,  dark  and  thorny,  and  in  some  re- 
spects they  may  be  so.  Few  frequent  them,  and  of  those  few, 
some  are  not  so  cheerful  as  might  be  expected.  Yet  upon  the 
\*'hole,  this  is  a  safe,  peaceful  and  pleasant  road.     It  is  the  way 

a  Rom.  vi.  21. 
L  2 


164  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

of  truth  and  liollness;  and  the  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  is 
assured  he  shall  not  err  therein  a.  The  company  that  use  it 
are  all  of  them  the  excellent  of  the  earth.  Their  temper  is 
meek  and  gentle,  and  their  deportment  inoffensive  and  good. 
Their  bread  is  given  them,  to  use  the  language  of  the  prophet, 
and  their  waters  are  sure  h.  In  the  ivilderness  waters  break 
out,  and  streams  in  the  desert :  the  parched  ground  becomes  a 
pool,  and  the  thirsty  land  springs  of  water  c.  They  have  peace- 
ful consciences,  contented  minds,  thankful  hearts,  and  sometimes 
joys  which  the  world  cannot  <.nve  nor  take  away.  Christ  is  their 
guide,  and  his  providence  their  defence.  The  word  of  God  is 
their  rule,  and  his  statutes  are  their  songs  in  the  house  of  their 
pilgrimage  d.  In  these  paths  the  wisest  and  best  of  men  have 
trodden.  And  the  end,  the  certain  end,  is  everlasting  life  e. 
And  now  say,  which  of  these  two  is  most  deserving  of  your 
choice,  the  way  of  sin  or  of  holiness;  that  which  leads  to  happi- 
ness, or  that  which  goes  down  to  misery  ?  Whoso findeth  me,  says 
Wisdom,  findeth  life,  and  shall  obtain  favour  of  the  Lord. 
But  he  icho  sinneth  against  me,  wrongeth  his  own  soul:  all 
they  who  hate  me  love  death  f 

3.  If  we  are  any  of  us  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  wisdom, 
how  thankful  should  we  be  to  that  kind  and  skilful  hand,  which 
hath  led  us  into  these  peaceful  and  pleasant  paths  !  The  tra- 
veller who  hath  missed  his  way,  and  is  in  danger  of  being  lost, 
feels  no  small  joy  at  the  sight  of  a  guide;  nor  can  he  be  enough 
grateful  to  the  friendly  stranger  for  conducting  him  safe, 
through  an  easy  and  cheerful  road,  to  the  place  -whither  he  is 
going.  What  sentiments  then  of  love  and  gratitude  should  pos- 
sess our  breasts,  when  we  reflect  oil  the  kind  and  seasonable 
interpositions  of  divine  grace  in  our  favour  ?  W^e  had  not  only 
missed  our  way,  but  were  going  down  heedlessly,  it  may  be  pre- 
sumptuously, the  path  which  directly  leads  to  destruction.  In 
these  sad  circumstances  did  the  blessed  God  pity  us  ?  Did  he 
by  his  providence,  by  his  v/ord,  and  by  the  gracious  influence 
of  his  Spirit,  stop  us  in  our  career,  convince  us  of  our  danger, 
point  out  the  way  to  happiness,  and  guide  our  feet  into  it? 
Have  we  found  it  a  pleasant  path  ?  Has  he  vouchsafed  us  his 

a  Isa.  xxxx.  8.  b  Isa.  xxxiii.  16.  c  Isa.  xxxv.  6,  7. 

d  Tsal.  cxix.  31.  c  Rom.  vi.  22.  /Pror.  viii.  2,5,  36. 


OF  RELIGION".  165 

presence  and  company  therein?  Aiul  are  we  in  hopes  ere  long, 
of  arriving  at  the  celestial  city,  and  there  enjoying  perfect  and 
endless  felicity?  O  what  praise  is  due  to  his  free  and  unmerit- 
ed goodness  !  Free  and  unmerited  I  call  it;  for  such  we  shall 
readily  acknowledge  it  to  be,  when  we  reflect  on  our  own  folly 
and  perverseness,  when  we  cast  our  eyes  on  the  miseries  of  those 
who  are  yet  in  their  sins,  and  when  we  consider  the  amazing 
price  of  our  redemption,  and  the  various  means  by  which  we 
are  formed  and  prepared  for  future  happiness  and  glory.  Bless 
the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits.  Whofor~ 
giveth  all  thine  iniquities ;  who  healeth  all  thy  diseases.  HTio 
redeemeth  thy  life  from  destruction,  who  crowneth  thee  with 
loving  kindness  and  tender  7nercies  a.  Who  maketh  thee  to  lie 
down  in  green  pastures;  who  leadeth  thee  beside  the  still 
waters  ;  and  guides  thee  in  the  paths  of  peace  and  righteous-^ 
i\£Ss,for  his  name's  sake  b. 

4.  Lei:  us  see  to  it  that  we  forsake  not  these  paths,  which  we 
have  found  to  be  thus  cheerful  and  pleasant.  Indeed  it  is  hardly  to 
be  imagined  that  they  who  have  enjoyed  the  comforts  of  religion, 
will  ever  deliberately  consent  to  part  with  them  on  any  worldly 
consideration  whatever.  Whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him,  says  our  Saviour,  shall  never  thirst  c.  His  eager 
and  criminal  gust  for  the  things  of  this  life,  will  be  in  a  good 
degree  subdued.  And  having  drunk  and  relished  the  old  wine, 
as  it  is  elsewhere  expressed,  he  will  not  straightway  desire 
new :  for  it  will  never  be  his  settled  judgment,  that  the  old  is 
better  d.  Yet  many  temptations  will  arise  in  the  course  of  our 
profession  to  divert  our  attention  from  the  interesting  concerns 
of  religion,  and  to  pall  our  appetite  to  its  joys  and  pleasures. 
As  we  pass  on  our  way,  Satan  and  the  world  will  use  their  ut-- 
most  efforts  to  draw  us  again  into  the  paths  of  vanity  and  sin. 
And  what  through  the  corruption  of  our  own  hearts,  and  the 
depression  of  our  animal  spirits  on  some  occasions,  we  shall  novy 
and  then  be  put  to  a  stand  to  know  what  to  do.  It  is  therefore 
of  great  importance,  that  we  are  upon  our  guard  against  all 
these  assaults  of  the  enemy.  To  that  end  let  us  endeavour 
by  frequent   reasonings    with    ourselves,   and  by   maintaining 

a  Psal.  ciii.  2 — 4.  b  Psal.  xxiii.  2,  3. 

c  Jolin  iv.  14.  d  J.ukje  v.  39. 


166  THE  PLEASANTNESS 

daily  communion  with  God,  to  get  our  judgment  and  experience 
still  more  and  more  confirmed  in  this  grand  leading  point,  on 
which  I  have  been  discoursing,  That  the  ways  of  wisdom  areways 
of  pleasantness^  and  all  her  paths  peace.  Thus  obstinately  fixed 
in  our  attachments  to  religion,  and  thus  feeling  the  comforts  of 
it  at  our  hearts,  we  shall  not  be  easily  moved  from  our  stedfast- 
ness.  But  like  the  Samaritans  we  shall  be  able  to  say,  ^ow^ 
we  believe,  not  because  of  the  saying  of  this  or  the  other  person : 
for  we  have  heard  and  conversed  with  him  ourselves,  and  know 
that  this  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world  a.  Let 
us  also  make  it  our  fervent  and  constant  request  to  him,  who 
first  led  us  into  the  paths  of  righteousness,  to  guide  and  guard 
our  steps  therein. 

5.  And  lastly,  If  the  way  to  heaven  is  so  pleasant  as  hath 
been  represented,  let  us  think,  and  frequently  think  with  our- 
selves, how  pleasant  the  country  must  be  to  which  it  leads.  It 
is  not  in  my  power  fully  to  describe  it,  or  in  yours  to  .frame  an 
adequate  idea  of  it.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  the  things  which  God  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  him  b.  Peace  of  conscience,  a  sense 
of  God's  favour,  faith  in  his  good  providence,  communion  with 
heaven,  and  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  are  sources  of  real  comfort 
to  the  Christian  in  his  way  through  this  world.  But  O  how 
will  they  be  refined  and  improved  when  he  gets  to  that  better 
world  !  While  we  are  passing  on  towards  our  home,  we  are  not 
without  our  refreshments  and  pleasures.  Even  the  services 
themselves,  which  are  required  of  us,  however  painful  they  may 
seem,  bring  their  own  reward  with  them.  And  though  we  may 
now  and  then  be  greatly  dejected  and  cast  down ;  yet  at  other 
seasons  our  hearts  are  revived  and  comforted.  It  is  pleasant, 
fatigued  and  weary  as  we  may  sometimes  be,  to  drink  of  the 
distant  streams  of  that  river  which  makes  glad  the  city  of  God  ,• 
to  taste  of  the  grapes  of  Eshcol ;  and  from  mount  Pisgah  to 
take  a  view  of  the  good  land.  It  is  pleasant  to  converse  with 
our  guide  about  the  way  we  are  led,  and  the  country  to  which 
we  are  going;  and  to  join  with  our  fellow  travellers  in  the 
cheerful  songs,  with  which  they  entertain  one  another  in  the 
house  of  their  pilgrimage.     It  is  pleasant,  in  a  word,  to  antici- 

a  John  iv.  42.  *  1  Cor.  ii.  9. 


OF  RELIGION.  167 

pate  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  by  faith  and  hope,  to  transport 
ourselves  for  a  while  to  that  blissful  place. 

But  O  what  are  these  comforts,  what  are  these  pleasures, 
when  compared  with  those  reserved  for  the  weary  pilgrim  when 
he  is  got  to  his  journey's  end  !  There  remaineth  a  rest  for  the 
people  of  God  a.  In  my  Father's  house,  says  Christ,  are 
many  mansions  :  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you  b.  The  ran- 
somed of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs, 
and  everlasting  joy  vpon  tlieir  heads ;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and 
gladness,  and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  fee  away  c.  What  in- 
conceivable pleasure  will  they  feel,  from  the  hearty  welcome 
which  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  attending  saints  and  angels, 
will  give  them  !  What  infinite  satisfaction  to  find  themselves 
instantly  relieved  of  all  their  complaints  !  And  what  rapturous 
joys,  at  the  prospect  of  those  delightful  and  improving  exercises 
of  friendship  and  devotion,  in  which  they  are  to  be  for  ever  em- 
ployed !  They  are  at  home.  O  blessed  state  !  The  country  is 
fair  and  fruitful.  The  inhabitants  are  all  holy,  peaceful  and 
happy.  God  himself  dwells  among  them ;  and  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  favour  and  presence  they  possess  a  never-ending 
duration  of  bliss  and  glory.  So  shall  they  ever  be  with  the  Lord, 
IVlierefore,  comfort  one  another  with  these  ivords  d. 


DISCOURSE  VIII. 


THE  FRUITS  OF  RELIGION. 

Rom.  VI.  22. Ye  have  your  fruit  unto  holiness. 

X.  RUE  religion,  wherever  it  prevails,  infuses  a  certain  vital  heat 
or  energy  into  the  soul,  which  fails  not  to  produce  some  sub- 
stantial effects  in  a  man's  temper  and  conduct.  It  is  however 
to  be  feared,  that  too  many  mistake  the  unhallowed  flame  of 

a  Heb,  iv.  9.  /;  John  xiv.  2. 

c  Isa.  xxxT.  10.  rf  1  Tlies8.  It.  17,  18. 


168  THE  FRUITS 

mere  natural  passion,  for  this  living  principle  of  divine  grace. 
Their  imagination  is  pleased,  and  their  affections  warmed ;  and 
so  they  instantly  conclude  themselves  men  of  religion.  But 
alas  !  the  genuine  spirit  of  those  truths  for  which  they  profess 
60  high  a  regard  is  overlooked  and  forgot ;  and  their  zeal,  like 
a  flaming  meteor,  having  for  a  while  drawn  the  attention  and 
wonder  of  all  around  them,  suddenly  expires  in  perpetual  dark- 
ness and  oblivion.  Or  if  their  pretensions  to  religion  do  not 
thus  quickly  vanish  and  die  away ;  perhaps  other  consequences 
follow,  which  are  still  more  fatal  and  dangerous.  When  the 
tumult  of  their  passions  is  somewhat  subsided,  and  they  are 
pressed  with  the  utility  and  importance  of  real  holiness  ;  they 
begin  coolly  to  persuade  themselves,  that  a  profession  of  the  gos- 
pel may  consist  with  their  lusts.  Until  at  length  it  becomes  a 
settled  point  with  them,  that  they  may  be  allowed  to  sin — hor- 
rid impiety ! — because  they  are  not  under  the  law,  but  under 
grace. 

Such  kind  of  persons  there  were  in  primitive  times ;  and  this 
their  unnatural  abuse  of  the  gospel,  the  apostle  exposes  at  large 
in  this  context.  Nor  is  it  a  little  remarkable,  that  the  manner 
in  which  he  combats  the  false  reasoning  of  these  men,  while  it 
sets  their  perverseness  and  ingratitude  in  the  most  striking 
licfht,  furnishes  a  strong  presumptive  evidence  in  favour  of 
the  doctrine  of  grace.  Shall  we  sin  because  we  are  not  un- 
der the  law,  but  under  grace  a  ?  As  if  he  had  said,  "  The 
constitution  of  the  gospel  is  such,  that  it  may  seem  at  first  view 
as  if  it  countenanced  sin.  Men  of  corrupt  minds  may  turn  the 
grace  of  God,  so  amazingly  displayed  in  the  free  pardon  and  jus- 
tification of  a  sinner,  into  licentiousness.  But  be  assured  this 
is  not  the  spirit,  the  tendency  of  that  doctrine,  which  you  have 
been  taught ;  nor  will  it  admit  of  any  such  conclusion.  So  far 
from  it,  that  this  very  consideration  of  your  not  being  under  the 
law,  but  under  grace,  is  a  reason  why  sin  should  not  have  do- 
minion over  you."  Nor  does  the  apostle  content  himself  with 
this  general  reasoning  upon  the  matter ;  but  appeals  to  the  re- 
ligious affections  of  their  hearts,  in  support  of  his  argument. 
They  had  felt  the  powerful  influence  of  the  gospel,  to  move 
them  to  obedience  j  and  so  had  approved  themselves  real  Chris- 

«  Ver.  15. 


OF  RELIGION.  169 

tians,  men  of  sound  and  genuine  religion.  Whereas  ye  were 
the  servants  of  sin,  ye  have  obeyed  from  the  heart  that  form  of 
doctrine  ivhich  ivas  delivered  you ;  and  so  being  made  free 
from  sin,  ye  became  the  servants  of  righteousness  a.  And  tlien 
reminding  them  of"  the  miserable  fruits  of  that  obedience  they 
had  formerly  rendered  to  sin,  even  shame  and  death,  he  tells 
them  in  the  text,  the  case  was  now  happily  altered  ;  for  being  de- 
livered from  the  dominion  of  sin,  and  become  servants  to  God, 
they  had  their  fruit  u?do  holiness,  and  the  end  everlasting  life. 

The  metaphorical  phrase  of  having  fruit,  or  bearing  fruit, 
when  applied  to  the  actions  of  men,  evidently  supposes  a  certain 
principle  from  whence  those  actions  proceed,  and  which  gives 
them  their  true  and  proper  denomination  in  the  sight  of  God. 
Now  as  in  the  general,  there  will  be  a  correspondence  or  simi- 
larity between  the  one  and  the  other;  so  the  course  or  tenor  of  a 
person's  life  is  represented  in  scripture,  as  the  best  index  of  the 
state  of  his  mind.  Upon  this  maxim  our  Saviour  reasons,  when  he 
would  guard  us  against  wickod  and  designing  men,  who,  under 
pretence  of  extraordinary  piety  and  goodness,  attempt  to  deceive 
and  mislead  us.  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.  Do  men 
gather  grapes  of  thorns,  orfgs  of  thistles  ?  Even  so,  every  good 
tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit,  but  a  corrupt  tree  bringeth  forth 
evU  fruit.  A  good  tree  cannot  bring  forth  evil  fruit :  neither  can 
a  corrupt  tree  bring  forth  good  fruit  b.  It  is  God's  prerogative 
alone  to  judge  the  heart ;  nay,  as  to  the  actions  of  others,  we 
are  very  incapable  in  some  instances  of  pronouncing  decisively 
upon  them,  for  want  of  clearly  understanding  the  motives  from 
whence  they  arise.  But  it  is  an  unquestionable  truth,  that  his 
heart  cannot  be  right  with  God,  the  course  of  whose  behaviour 
is  unholy  and  sinful.  And  on  the  other  hand,  ignorant  as  we 
are  of  men's  hearts,  we  are  obliged  to  give  full  credit  to  their 
profession,  if  their  conduct  is  answerable  to  it.  And  indeed  a 
sense  of  our  own  liableness  to  err,  and  a  disposition  to  think 
well  of  others,  will  induce  us,  if  we  are  men  of  religion,  to  put 
a  favourable  construction  on  actions  which  are  doubtful,  and  even 
in  some  respects  blame-worthy. 

Now  the  question  is,  What  are  those  fruits  we  are  to  expect 
from  a  real  Christian,  and  without  which  a  man's  pretensions  to 
a  Ver.  17,  18.  b  Matt.  vii.  13—18. 


170  THE  FRUITS 

that  character,  be  they  what  they  may,  are  vain  and  groundless? 
Tlic  apostle  comprehends  them  all  in  the  general  idea  of  holi- 
ness, a  word  of  much  the  same  import  with  righteousness  in  the 
preceding  verses.  It  stands  opposed  to  sin,  and  signifies  a  con- 
formity of  our  tempers  and  lives  to  the  will  of  God.  When  we 
speak  of  it  as  a  principle,  we  mean  a  fixed  approbation  of  the 
things  which  are  excellent  and  good,  and  a  prevailing  inclination 
or  tendency  of  the  heart  to  those  things.  And  when  we  speak 
of  the  fruits  of  it,  we  mean  all  those  various  acts  of  the  mind 
and  of  the  external  conduct,  which  spring  from  this  principle, 
and  are  in  their  nature  and  quality  conformable  to  it. 

Now  the  lioliness  of  a  Christian  is  at  present,  in  neither  of 
these  views,  perfect :  far  from  it.  His  judgment  indeed  is  firmly 
established  in  favour  of  that  which  is  good,  and  his  heart  is 
strongly  inclined  that  way.  But  still  he  hath  many  evil  pas- 
sions and  propensities  to  struggle  with.  Hence  the  apostle  com- 
plains of  a  law  in  his  members,  warring  against  the  law  of  his 
mind  a  :  and  oi flesh  lusting  against  the  spirit  b.  Nor  is  there 
a  good  man  living,  but  daily  laments,  and  often  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  spirit,  the  folly  and  corruption  he  feels  working  within. 
The  powers  of  sin  and  holiness,  like  the  houses  of  Saul  and  Da- 
vid, are  continually  at  war  with  each  other.  And  of  conse- 
quence, the  fruits  of  holiness,  that  is,  the  various  expressions  of 
it  in  the  thoughts  and  reasonings  of  the  mind,  and  in  the  actions 
of  the  life,  will  be  imperfect  likewise.  Hence  the  many  weak- 
nesses, failings  and  sins  of  those,  who  nevertheless,  upon  the 
whole,  give  satisfactory  proof  that  their  hearts  are  upright  before 
God. 

Thus  much  premised,  I  proceed  now  to  describe  the  natural 
and  gcnxxme  fruits  of  religion ;  and  to  shew  you,  as  I  go  along, 
how  they  arise  out  of  this  principle  of  holiness,  quickened  and 
invigorated  by  the  animating  motives  the  gospel  suggests.  They 
are  reducible  to  these  three  heads,  the  duties  we  owe — to  God 
— to  one  another — and  to  ourselves.     Let  us, 

I.  Consider  the  several  expressions  of  religion  which  are  re- 
quired of  us  towards  God.     The  first  I  shall  mention  is, 

First,  Thinking  of  God. 

a  Rom.  vii.  23.  b  Gal.  v.  17. 


OF  RELIGION.  171 

God  is  the  great  object  of  religion,  and  they  who  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  it,  are  well  affected  towards  him  ;  or  to  use  the 
language  of  Scripture,  they  have  '  his  fear  in  their  hearts  «.' 
Now  a  thoughtfulness  about  God,  or  the  frequent  adverting  of 
the  mind  to  him,  is  a  natural  expression  of  this  fear.  Nay, 
without  such  consideration  of  him,  there  cannot  be  that  admira- 
tion of  his  excellencies,  that  confidence  in  his  power  and  good- 
ness, and  that  devotedness  of  heart  to  his  service,  which  enter 
so  deeply  into  the  essence  of  religion,  and  are  the  chief  sources 
of  delight  and  pleasure  to  a  renewed  mind.  It  is  the  character 
of  the  wicked,  that  '  God  is  not  in  all  their  thoughts  bJ  They 
do  indeed  sometimes  think  of  him,  but  it  is  sorely  against  their 
will,  and  upon  those  occasions  only,  when  providence  forces  the 
idea  of  him  upon  their  consciences.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  the 
character  of  the  man  of  religion,  that  '  he  sets  the  Lord  always 
before  him  c'  He  not  only  lays  it  down  as  a  settled  principle 
with  him,  that  God  sees  him,  and  that  therefore  he  ought  to 
act  as  in  his  sight,  but  he  is  apt  to  think  of  him.  His  atten- 
tion is  quickly  turned  towards  this  great  object,  by  circumstan- 
ces which  have  not  the  like  effect  on  other  men. — Now  there  is 
a  general  and  occasional  recollection  of  God,  and  a  more  steady 
and  particular  contemplation  of  him  ;  each  of  which  is  a  natural 
and  proper  expression  of  religion. 

1.  As  to  the  former.  It  is  true  we  cannot  be  thinking  of 
God  every  moment ;  that,  as  we  are  at  present  circumstanced, 
is  impossible,  nor  is  it  indeed  necessary.  Yet  there  are  many 
things  continually  occurring,  which,  if  we  are  well  affected  to- 
wards him,  will  be  likely  to  bring  him  to  our  remembrance. 
Our  enjoyments  and  afflictions,  our  temptations  and  difficulties, 
our  dangers  and  escapes,  yea  our  follies  and  sins,  will  be  apt  to 
have  this  effect.  The  good  man,  sensible  that  he  is  a  pensioner 
on  the  divine  bounty,  can  scarcely  feel  the  want  of  any  blessing, 
or  have  that  want  agreeably  supplied,  without  calling  to  mind 
his  benefactor.  Such  pious  reflections  as  were  common  with 
the  good  old  patriarchs  on  these  occasions,  will  every  now  and 
then  pass  across  his  breast. —  The  God  who  hath  fed  me  all  my 
life  long  unto  this  day  d! — The  Lord  who  hath  dealt  graciously 

n  Jer.  xxxii.  W.  b  Psal.  x.  i. 

c  Psal.  xvi.  8.  d  Gen.  xlviii,  15. 


172  THE  FRUITS 

wilh  me  a  ! — How  umvortky  am  I  of  the  least  of  all  his  mer- 
ciesb! — When  he  resolves  upon  transacting  any  important  affair, 
he  can  hardly  forbear  saying  with  the  apostle  James,  at  least  in 
liis  heart,  Jf  the  Lord  will,  I  shall  live,  and  do  this  or  that  c. 
When  any  cross  event  happens  to  him,  he  quickly  recollects 
that  the  hand  of  Providence  is  in  it.  Is  David  affronted  by 
Shimei  ?  how  instantly  does  the  thought  occur  !  The  Lord  hath 
bidde?i  him  d.  If  any  matter  of  difficulty  arises,  which  requires 
extraordinary  prudence  and  fortitude,  he  will  naturally  send  up 
a  wish  to  heaven,  as  did  Nehemiah,  while  he  stood  before  the 
Persian  king  e.  Is  he  assaulted  with  temptation  ?  the  idea  of 
that  great  Being  who  is  every  where  present,  will  be  apt  to 
strike  an  awe  upon  his  spirits,  and  he  will  silently  reason  with 
himself  like  Joseph,  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and 
sin  against  Godf?  Or  if  he  has  been  overtaken  with  sin,  the 
remembrance  of  God  will  follow  close  upon  the  remembrance 
of  his  sin;  just  as  Peter,  whenever  he  recollected  his  denial  of 
Christ,  recollected  also  the  expressive  look  which  Christ  gave 
him,  and  which  drew  tears  of  genuine  sorrow  from  his  eyes  g. 

But  it  were  endless  to  enumerate  the  various  circumstances, 
which  will  lead  a  serious  mind  thus  occasionally  to  think  of  God, 
Nor  need  I  stay  here  to  shew  you,  how  naturally  these  thoughts 
and  reflections  on  God,  arise  from  that  fear  which  he  is  said  to 
put  into  the  heart.  They  are  as  genuine  expressions  of  reli- 
gion, as,  on  the  contrary,  the  frequent  taking  God's  name  in 
vain,  which  is  no  other  than  speaking  without  thinking  of  him, 
is  an  expression  of  profaneness  and  ifreligion. — But  it  is  farther 
to  be  observed,  that  the  fear  and  iove  of  God  will  incline  the 
Cliristian, 

2.  To  a  fixed  and  close  meditation  of  him  on  particular  and 
special  occasions.  God  is  to  be  seen  in  all  his  works,  whether 
of  nature,  providence  or  grace.  But  alas  !  how  few  observe 
him.  Some  are  so  continually  busied  about  the  affairs  of  the 
world,  or  so  deeply  immersed  in  sensual  pleasures,  that  they  con- 
sider not  at  all  the  operations  of  his  hands.  And  others  of  a 
more  refined  taste,  amidst  their  many  curious  and  perhaps  useful 

a  Chap,  xxxiii.  11.  b  Chap,  xsxiii.  10.  c  James  iv.  15.  ' 

d  2  Sam.  xvi.  11.  e  Neh,  ii.  -k  J"  Gen.  xxxix.  9. 

s  Mai-k  xiv.  72. 


OF  RELIGION.  l73 

Speculations,  are  unmindful  of  tlie  first  great  Cause  of  all  things. 
But  it  is  not  so  with  the  man  of  rchgion.  He  is  an  enquirer 
after  God,  and  cannot  be  content  without  finding  him.  Now, 
though  '  God  is  not  far  from  every  one  of  us,'  and,  at  the  first 
glance  on  his  works,  we  may  perceive  striking  proofs  of  his 
power  and  goodness,  yet  ive  must  seek  him,  ifJiaply  ice  may  feel 
after  him,  and  find  him  a.  Divine  knowledge,  with  all  the 
happy  fruits  of  it,  is  not  to  be  attained  without  close  attention 
and  dihgent  application.  The  works  of  the  Lord  are  great,  sought 
out  of  all  them  that  have  pleasure  therein  b.  Wherefore  reli- 
gion prompts  the  Christian  to  withdraw  from  the  world  at  pro- 
per seasons,  to  impose  silence  on  his  tumultuous  thoughts  and 
passions,  and  so  to  engage  his  heart  to  approach  unto  God.  A 
difficult  work  this  often  is,  through  various  causes  that  might 
be  mentioned,  yet,  in  the  issue,  we  shall  find  it  infinitely  pro- 
fitable and  entertaining.  Nor  should  the  consideration  of  God 
be  confined  to  our  retirements  only.  It  should  be  the  business 
of  conversation,  v/hen  a  fit  opportunity  offers,  and  always  our 
professed  object,  when  we  attend  upon  the  solemnities  of  public 
and  social  worship. 

Many  examples  of  this  sort  we  meet  with  in  Scripture. 
Enoch  walked,  with  God  c,  that  is,  he  thought  of  him,  and  con- 
versed with  him,  as  well  as  aimed  to  do  his  will.  Isaac  went  out 
into  the  field  at  eventide  to  meditate  d — to  meditate  doubtless  of 
God  and  his  works.  The  wakeful  hours  of  the  night,  David 
employed  in  divine  contemplation  e.  And  his  great  object  in 
frequenting  tlie  house  of  God  was,  that  he  might  behold  the 
beauty  if  the  Lord,  enquire  in  his  temple  f,  and  there  be  em- 
ployed in  thinking  of  his  loving  kindness  g.  Nor  can  you  well 
forget  how  they  are  commended,  who,  in  the  time  of  the  pro- 
phet Malachi,  '  spake  often  one  to  another,  and  thought  on 
the  name  of  the  Lord  /^'  Now  this  is  a  just  and  natural  ex- 
pression of  real  piety,  as  it  evidently  supposes  a  firm  belief  of 
God's  existence  and  presence,  a  sincere  and  affectionate  love 
to  him,   and  a  humble  hope  and  confidence  in   his  mercy,  and 

«  Acts  xvii.  27.  b  Psal.  cxi.  2.  c  Gen.  v.  22. 

d  Gen.  xxiv.  63.  e  Psal.  Ixiii.  6.  /Psal.  xxvii.  4. 

g  Psal.  xlviii.  9.  k  Mai.  iii.  IQ. 


174  THE  FRUITS 

as  it  pltiinly  evinces  an  ardent  concern  to  have  these  divine 
principles  quickened  and  established  in  the  heart. 

Si:cT>NDLY,  Addressing  ourselves  to  God,  is  another  eminent 
expression  of  religion. 

A  duty  this,  which  the  light  of  nature,  as  well  as  Scripture, 
clearly  teaches.  Prayer  is  the  offering  up  our  desires  to  God, 
and  is  generally  considered  as  including  in  it,  an  acknowledgment 
of  our  dependence  on  God,  and  his  infinite  perfections,  thank- 
fulness for  his  various  mercies,  a  confession  of  our  manifold 
sins,  and  a  supplication  of  all  needful  blessings  for  ourselves  and 
others.  I  shall  not  enter  into  the  many  frivolous  objections 
which  have  been  made  to  this  duty.  The  question  as  to  the 
fitness  or  propriety  of  addressing  the  Deity,  may  be  safely  rest- 
ed with  the  simple  dictates  and  feelings  of  every  man's  rea- 
son and  conscience.  Besides,  Scripture  hath  put  the  matter 
bevond  all  doubt  with  those  who  assent  to  its  divine  authority. 
— Now  the  qualifications  of  acceptable  prayer  are,  either  those 
which  enter  into  the  essence  of  it,  or  those  which  are  only 
adventitious  or  circumstantial. 

1.  As  to  the  former,  they  are  these  ;  a  due  regard  to  the 
Being  whom  we  address,  a  proper  sense  of  our  own  condition 
and  wants,  faith  in  the  mediation  of  Christ,  and  a  humble  hope 
of  the  aid  and  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  who  prays 
aright,  must  have  his  thoughts  reverently  employed  about  God, 
and  his  mind  suitably  impressed,  both  with  the  greatness  and 
goodness  of  that  infinite  Being.  He  must  believe  that  he  iSy 
and  that  he  is  the  rewarder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him  a. 
He  must  be  deeply  affected  with  his  own  frailty,  guilt  and  un- 
worthiness,  with  his  absolute  and  entire  dependence  on  God, 
with  the  excellence  and  importance  of  the  great  blessings  he 
implores,  and  with  a  grateful  remembrance  of  the  many  favours 
he  hath  received.  He  must  have  a  lively  and  affectionate  con- 
fidence in  the  merit  and  advocacy  of  Christ,  for  the  success  of 
his  prayers.  And  while  he  humbly  supplicates  the  assistance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  is  the  chief  good  that  God  bestovvs, 
he  must  be  sensible  of  his  need  of  the  divine  influences,  and  of 
the  encouragement  given  him  to  expect  them.  Now  these 
tempers,  suitably  exercised  in  prayer,  are  the  natural  and  pro- 

n  Ileb.  xi.  G. 


OF  RELIGION.  175 

per  expressions  of  religion.  Nor  is  tliere  any  one  devout  affec- 
tion of  the  heart,  but  may  be  excited  and  gratified  in  tlie  due 
practice  of  this  duty.     And  then, 

2.  As  to  those  other  qualifications,  which  may,  on  some  ac- 
counts, be  called  circumstantial,  a  due  regard  to  them  is  a  natu- 
ral dictate  of  religion,  and  furnishes  a  clear  proof  of  its  preva- 
lence in  the  heart.  The  man  of  religion  will  make  conscience 
of  secret  prayer,  sensible  of  his  own  immediate  and  personal  con- 
cern with  God,  and  desirous  of  using  a  freedom  with  him  pe- 
culiar to  such  private  intercourses.  Enter  tliou  into  thy  closet, 
says  our  Saviour,  and  when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to 
thy  Father  which  is  in  secret,  a7id  thy  Father,  who  seeth  in 
secret,  shall  reward  thee  openly  a.  Ho  will  also  consider  him- 
self obliged  to  social  prayer,  that  is,  to  join  with  his  family  and 
his  Christian  friends,  in  solemn  addresses  to  God.  To  which 
he  will  be  prompted,  by  a  firm  persuasion  of  the  importance  of 
such  exercises,  not  only  to  the  interests  of  religion  in  general, 
but  to  his  own  personal  edification  and  comfort.  The  primitive 
Christians  '  continued  with  one  accord  in  prayer  and  supplica- 
tion b'  And  the  apostle  exhorts  the  Hebrews  '  not  to  forsake 
the  assembling  of  themselves  together,'  with  a  view,  doubtless, 
to  this  duty  among  others,  *  as  was  the  manner  of  some  c' 
He  will  pray  frequently,  urged  to  this  exercise  not  by  con- 
science only,  but  by  the  pleasure  and  profit  resulting  from  it. 
*  Continue  instant  in  prayer  c?.'  '  Pray  without  ceasing  e.'  Ou 
certain  occasions  he  will  judge  it  his  duty  to  set  apart  special 
time  for  humiliation  and  prayer,  and  for  thanksgiving  and  praise ; 
of  which  we  have  numerous  examples  both  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  Nor  will  he  be  an  utter  stranger  to  those  short, 
silent,  ejaculatory  addresses  already  hinted  at;  and  which  are 
not  only  in  themselves  most  fit  and  reasonable,  but  are  likewise 
recommended  by  several  instances  on  divine  record. 

Now,  a  transient  reflection  on  the  genius  and  spirit  of  real 
religion  will  quickly  convince  us,  that  the  addressing  God 
after  the  manner  which  hath  been  represented,  is  a  natural, 
and  I  may  add,  a  necessary  expression  of  its  existence  and  pre- 
valence in  the  heart.     If  breathing  is  a  clear  proof  of  animal, 

a  Matt.  vi.  6.  b  Acts  i.  14.  c  Heb.  x.  25. 

d  Rom,  xii.  12.  e  1  Thes».  v.  17. 


176  THE  FRUITS 

SO  is  prayer  of  spiritual  and  divine  life.  Nor  is  it  easy  to 
conceive  how  that  man  who  is  truly  sensible  of  his  dependence 
on  God,  and  feels  a  cordial  afi'ection  towards  him,  can  pass  on 
contentedly  from  day  to  day  in  the  neglect  of  this  duty ;  espe- 
cially since  God  hath  so  solemnly  enjoined  it,  and  given  so  many 
encouragements  to  it. 

Thirdly,  A  due  regard  to  public  worship  is  another  expres- 
sion of  religion. 

Next  to  the  existence  of  God,  there  hath  not  been  one  point 
more  generally  assented  to,  than  that  he  ought  to  be  worshipped. 
And  since  we  all  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  him,  as  reason- 
able and  dependent  creatures,  and  are  under  mutual  obligations 
to  each  other,  it  is  likewise  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  the  worship 
of  God  should  be  public  and  social.  Whence  it  happens,  that 
go  where  we  will,  we  see  some  place  of  general  concourse  de- 
voted to  the  service  of  the  Deity.  Wherefore,  they  who  treat 
public  worship  with  contempt,  or  allow  themselves  in  the  neglect 
of  it,  act  in  direct  opposition  to  one  of  the  plainest  dictates  of 
reason,  and  to  the  coinmon  sense  and  profession  of  mankind. 

But  we  are  not  left  to  the  general  reasonings  of  nature  and 
conscience  upon  this  matter.  We  have  the  express  authority 
of  Scripture  to  oblige  us  to  obedience ;  and  we  have  particular 
directions  given  us  therein,  as  to  the  manner  in  which  God  will 
be  worshipped.  It  was  the  practice  of  good  men  in  the  earliest 
ages  of  the  world,  '  to  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  «.'  And 
we  hardly  need  be  reminded,  what  particular  regard  was  paid  to 
this  great  duty,  under  the  Jewish  dispensation.  The  mode  of 
worship,  indeed,  which  then  prevailed,  is  now  changed.  But 
social  religion  itself  is  as  much  in  force  as  ever.  Our  Lord 
hath  solemnly  required  his  disciples  to  assemble  for  the  worship 
of  God.  And  his  apostles  have  taken  particular  care,  to  cau- 
tion them  against  indifference  to  the  divine  command.  '  Where 
two  or  three,'  says  Christ,  '  are  gathered  together  in  my  name, 
there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them  b.'  We  are  to  assemble. 
This  we  are  to  do,  be  our  situation,  number,  or  outward  circum- 
stances what  they  may,  provided  it  be  any  way  practicable.  We 
are  to  assemble  in  the  name  of  Christ,  that  is,  as  Christians,  in 
obedience  to  his  command,  and  with  a  particular  regard  to  him 
a  Gen.  iv.  26.  b  Matt,  xsiii.  20. 


OP  RELIGION.  177 

in  what  we  do.  We  are  to  meet  together  frequently,  at  stated 
seasons,  and  on  every  proper  occasion  that  offers.  And  when 
we  are  thus  convened,  the  services  to  be  performed,  as  appears 
from  the  precepts  and  examples  of  the  New  Testament,  are  prayer 
and  praise,  instruction  and  exhortation,  and  the  celebration  of 
the  two  Christian  institutions.  Nor  can  I  forbear  adverting  a 
moment  to  the  gracious  and  condescending  promise  annexed, 
and  which  affords  the  noblest  encouragement  to  social  religion. 
/  am  in  the  midst  of  them.  There  is  amazing  dignity  and 
goodness  in  the  expression.  "  I  their  Almighty  Saviour  and 
friend  am  among  them — among  them,  not  as  a  witness  only  of 
what  passes,  but  as  one  of  the  company,  to  gladden  them  with 
my  presence,  and  to  put  life  and  pleasure  into  these  divine  ex- 
ercises, by  my  influence  and  grace." 

Now,  who  that  considers  the  reasonableness  of  the  service  it- 
self, the  authority  by  which  it  is  enjoined,  and  the  infinite  utility 
and  pleasantness  of  it,  when  crowned  with  the  enlivening  pre- 
sence of  Christ,  but  must  acknowledge  that  it  is  a  very  impor- 
tant branch  of  duty?  Wherefore,  a  regular,  serious  and  cheer- 
ful attendance  upon  it,  is  a  just  and  natural  expression  of  reli- 
gion. A  good  man  cannot  allow  himself  in  an  habitual  and 
wilful  neglect  of  it.  Nor  can  he  be  contented  with  mere  forms, 
unanimated  by  the  genuine  spirit  of  vital  godliness.  He  may 
not  always  have  the  like  relish  for  devotional  exercises,  nor  be 
always  alike  benefited  by  them ;  but  it  will  be  his  grand  object 
to  worship  God,  who  is  a  Spirit,  in  spirit  and  truth  a.  Whence 
it  follows,  that  our  regard  to  public  worship,  is  one  good  cri- 
terion, among  many  others,  by  which  to  judge  of  the  state  of 
religion  in  our  hearts.     Again, 

Fourthly,  Obedience  to  the  will  of  God  is  another  eminent 
expression  of  religion. 

It  were  endless  to  enumerate  the  various  duties  incumbent  on 
us,  and  which  arise  out  of  the  several  relations  in  which  Provi- 
dence hath  placed  us.  Be  they,  however,  what  they  may,  the 
svill  of  God  signified  to  us  in  various  ways,  is  our  grand  obliga- 
tion to  the  performance  of  them.  But,  alas  !  such  is  the  weak- 
Bess  and  degeneracy  of  human  nature,  that  perfect  obedience  is 
absolutely  unattainable  in  the  present  life.     Wherefore,  the 

a  J(^n  iv.  24. 
VOL.  I.  W 


378  THE  FRUITS 

question  here  is,  What  kind  of  obedience  that  is,  which  may  be 
styled  the  genuine  fruit  of  religion,  or  which  is  necessary  to  de- 
nominate a  man  a  real  Christian  ? 

1.  It  is  an  obedience  which  hath  an  immediate  respect  to  the? 
will  of  God.  Many  there  are,  who,  in  some  instances,  do  the 
thing  which  is  right,  while,  at  the  same  time,  the  divine  au* 
thority  is  quite  out  of  the  question.  They  are  wholly  moved 
by  interest,  and  perhaps  worldly  interest  too.  Now  in  actions 
of  this  sort  there  is  nothing  of  religion.  And  upon  this  con- 
sideration, great  numbers  of  a  decent  outward  behaviour,  are 
excluded  from  the  denomination  of  good  men.  But  there  is  an 
intimate  and  necessary  connection  between  true  morality  and 
relio-ion.  The  real  Christian  will  have  reg-ard  to  God  in  his 
obedience.  The  question  with  him  in  every  doubtful  matter  is. 
What  God  would  have  him  to  do  ?  And  with  David  he  sin- 
cerely prays,  Teach  me  thy  way,  O  Lord,  and  lead  me  in  a 
plain  path  a.  And  heirce  we  commonly  style  such  a  person  a 
conscientious  man.  Many  indeed  of  the  more  plain  and  com- 
mon offices  of  life,  will  be  performed  by  him  without  his  think- 
ing immediately  of  God.  Yet  his  regard  to  that  great  Being 
will  clearly  appear  in  those  instances  wherein  his  duty  and  in- 
terest clash  ;  and  in  matters  too  which  are  out  of  the  view  of 
others,  and  wherein  he  cannot  be  influenced  by  motives  of 
honour  and  applause.     Again, 

2.  It  is  an  obedience  which  springs  from  a  love  of  God,  and 
a  desire  to  please  him.  Men  who  have  no  true  sense  of  religion, 
may,  nevertheless,  have  a  regard  to  God  in  some  of  their  ac- 
tions. This  is  frequently  the  case.  As  particularly  in  those 
instances,  wherein  the  evil  avoided,  is  of  such  a  nature,  as  ta 
force  upon  the  conscience  a  dread  of  the  extraordinary  displea- 
sure of  God.  So  the  idea  of  God,  in  an  oath,  will  oblige  some 
men  to  speak  the  truth,  who  are  not  over-scrupulous  of  a  false- 
hood on  common  occasions.  In  like  manner,  when  persons  are 
under  convictions  of  sin,  a  regard  to  God,  though  their  hearts 
are  not  really  changed,  will  hold  them  back  from  many  evils 
they  have  been  used  to  commit,  and  prompt  them,  perhaps,  to 
many  good  actions,  which  before  this  were  wholly  neglected. 
Herod  was  a  wicked  man,  yet  he  feared  John,  and  observed 

«  Fsal.  xxvii.  1 1. 


OF  RELIGION.  179 

him^  and  for  a  while  did  many  tJmigs  a.  But  in  these  cases, 
they  are  influenced  by  a  slavish,  not  an  ingenuous  fear  of  God, 
as  sufficiently  appears  from  the  unwillingness  and  irregularity 
of  t^eir  obedience.  Now  the  reverse  of  this  is  the  characteristic 
of  that  obedience  which  religion  teaches.  It  proceeds  from 
love  to  God,  from  a  sincere  and  ardent  wish  to  please  him,  and 
from  a  clear  conviction  of  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  real  holiness. 
A  good  man  accounts  it  his  highest  happiness  to  be  like  God, 
feels  a  real  pleasure  resulting  from  a  sense  of  his  favour,  and  is 
allured  to  a  compliance  vvith  his  duty  in  instances  that  are  self- 
denying,  by  a  recollection  of  God's  mercies,  especially  that  of 
his  redemption  by  Jesus  Christ.  So  the  general  course  of 
his  obedience  is  regular  and  cheerful.  Which  leads  me  to  ob- 
serve, 

3.  That  it  is  universal.  Many  there  are  who  would  readily 
obey  God  in  some  instances,  if  they  might  be  allowed  to  gra- 
tify their  evil  passions  in  others.  And  upon  this  principle,  that 
a  partial  submission  to  the  divine  authority  will  be  acceptable, 
we  see  them  commuting  with  Heaven  for  grosser  sins,  by  a  few 
trifling  acts  of  penance  and  self-denial.  But  it  is  otherwise 
with  the  real  Christian.  As  his  obedience  is  the  fruit  of  love, 
so  it  hath  regard  to  the  whole  will  of  God.  Then  shall  I  not  he 
ashamed^  said  the  psalmist,  when  I  have  respect  to  all  thyconv- 
mandrnents  h.  He  can  indeed  keep  none  of  them  aright,  that 
is,  perfectly ;  yet  he  would  gladly  conform  to  every  one  of  them. 
Follow  him  into  his  most  secret  recesses,  and  you  will  there 
find  him  under  the  influence  of  this  principle,  as  well  as  in  the 
midst  of  his  worldly  transactions.  Look  into  his  heart,  if  that 
might  be,  and  you  will  see  him  deeply  lamenting  his  vain 
thoughts,  and  irregular  passions,  as  well  as  his  external  actual 
sins.     And  then  again, 

4.  Sensible  of  the  manifold  imperfections  attending  his  obe- 
dience, he  renounces  the  most  distant  idea  of  meriting  the  fa- 
vour  of  God  thereby.  He  does  justice,  and  loves  mercy,  but, 
at  the  same  time,  he  walks  humbly  with  his  God  c :  and  hav- 
ing done  all  which  was  commanded  him,  he  readily  acknowledges, 
that  he  is  an  unprofitable  servant  d.     His   salvation,  he  well 

a  Mark  vi,  20.  b  Psal.  cxix.  6. 

c  Micah  vi.  8.  d  Luke  xvii.  10. 

m2 


l80  THE  FRUITS 

knows,  is  of  grace,  through  the  sacrifice  and  righteousness  of 
Christ.  Wherefore  he  ventures  not  into  the  presence  of  God, 
with  any  other  plea  than  that  which  his  Almighty  Saviour  and 
Friend  hath  put  into  his  lips. — Such  is  that  general  obedience 
to  the  will  of  God,  which  religion  teaches.  But  the  noblest 
expression  of  real  piety,  is. 

Fifthly,  and  lastly.  The  using  our  endeavours  to  advance 
the  glory  of  God  in  the  world. 

By 'glorifying  God,  I  mean  the  displaying  his  perfections  to  the 
view  of  our  fellow-creatures,  in  order  to  excite  their  reverence  for 
God,  and  to  animate  them  to  his  service.  Now  to  this  every 
Christian  in  his  measure  contributes,  by  walking  agreeable  to  his 
|)rofession.  While  our  '  light  so  shines  before  men,  as  that 
they  may  see  our  good  works,  they  will  glorify  our  Father  who 
is  in  heaven  «.'  But  there  is  something  more  required  of  us, 
besides  that  general  obedience  I  have  been  describing.  We 
are  to  exert  ourselves,  as  our  abilities  will  admit,  to  spread  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  to  promote  the  cause  of  virtue  and  ho- 
liness, and  to  save  men  from  temporal  and  everlasting  ruin. 
The  means  indeed  by  which  these  great  objects  are  to  be  at- 
tained, are  too  numerous  to  be  particularly  recited  here  ;  or  I 
might  tell  you  of  the  many  private  offices  of  Christian  friend- 
ship we  owe  to  each  other,  of  the  maintenance  of  family-re- 
ligion, of  the  encouragement  of  public  worship,  and  of  the  con- 
triving and  carrying  into  execution  schemes  of  public  and  ge- 
neral utility.  By  their  prudence,  zeal  and  activity,  some  per- 
sons, and  those  too  in  no  very  eminent  stations  of  life,  have 
rendered  amazing  services  to  the  interests  of  truth  and  religion. 
So  that  when  Providence  hath  removed  them  hence,  their 
names  hath  been  embalmed  in  the  breasts  of  thousands,  who 
have  reaped  the  happy  fruit  of  their  labours. 

Now,  such  endeavours  to  glorify  God  are  noble  proofs  of  real 
religion.  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  those  are  Christians  in- 
deed, who  stand  at  a  distance  from  sin,  because  it  is  displeasing 
to  God,  and  who  lament  their  daily  infirmities,  on  this  account 
chiefly,  because  he  is  dishonoured  thereby.  Who  feel  pain  at 
their  very  hearts,  when  the  gospel  of  Christ  is  reproached, 
through  the  ill  conduct  of  any  of  its  professors ;  and  in  the  dust 
«  Matt.  T.  16. 


OF  RELIGION.  181 

expostulate  with  God  on  these  sad  occasions,  in  the  language 
of  Joshua,  What  wilt  thou  do,  O  Lord,  unto  thy  great  name  a  ? 
Who  forget  their  own  honour  and  interest,  when  those  of  God 
and  reUgion  are  at  stake ;  and  who  account  it  their  highest  fe- 
licity to  be  the  instruments  of  spreading  the  truth,  and  of  sav-r 
ing  the  immortal  souls  of  men. 

Thus  have  we  considered  the  several  Jruits  oj"  holiness,  which 
have  an  immediate  respect  to  God.  Let  us  now  seriously  ex- 
amine ourselves  upon  these  matters.  Religion  is  an  important 
reality.  It  does  not  consist  in  mere  speculation  and  profession. 
It  must,  it  will,  wherever  it  prevails,  produce  suitable  effects  in 
men's  tempers  and  lives.  How  stands  it  then  with  us  ? — 
Do  we  think  of  God  ? — Do  we  address  ourselves  to  him  ? — Do 
we  attend  on  his  appointments  ? — Is  it  our  concern  to  be  obe- 
dient to  his  will  ? — And  are  we  pleased  with  every  opportunity 

that  offers  to  advance   his  glory  in  the  world  ? Every  good 

man  will,  1  am  sensible,  have  innumerable  defects  and  imperfec- 
tions to  lament  before  God.  But,  if  these  matters  are  the  ob- 
jects of  our  attention  and  pursuit,  we  are  Christians  indeed ; 
and  having  thus  our  fruit  unto  holiness,  we  shall  have  the  tes- 
timony of  those  around  us,  that  we  are  the  servants  of  God. 

PART  II. 

The  duties  required  o£\xs  towards  Got/ have  been  considered; 
and  we  now  go  on, 

II.  To  the  duties  we  owe  to  one  another. 

These,  of  whatever  kind  they  may  be,  result  from  the  several 
relations  which  Providence  hath  established  among  mankind ; 
and  approve  themselves,  upon  due  reflection,  to  every  one's  rea- 
son and  conscience,  as  most  fit  and  proper.  Now  they  are  all 
reducible  to  the  general  idea  oi  Justice ;  which  is  therefore  con- 
sidered by  some  as  perfect  or  imperfect.  By  perfect  justice,  is 
meant  the  rendering  to  every  man  what  is  strictly  and  truly  his 
own.  And  by  imperfect  justice,  the  rendering  him  that  good 
which  is  purely  the  effect  of  courtesy  or  kindness.  The  former 
he  may  demand ;  the  latter  is  his  due  only  upon  the  general 
principles  of  henevolence.  But  waving  this  distinction,  and 
taking  the  general  term  of  justice  in  its  common  acceptation;  I 
K  Josh.  Til.  9. 


182  TvHE  FRUITS 

propose  to  discourse  of  the  several  social  duties  under  the  three 
heads  of — Justice — Peaceableness — and  Goodness  ; — and  to 
ehew  you,  as  we  go  along,  our  obligations  as  Christians  to  these 
fruits  of  holiness.  The  subject  is  copious,  I  must  therefore 
Confine  myself  to  the  leading  ideas  only. 

First,  Justice. 

As  man  is  made  for  society,  we  must  of  necessity  have  various 
mutual  intercourses  with  each  other.  And  as  these  intercourses 
are  by  words  or  actions,  so  justice  requires  that  in  the  former  we 
should  have  a  strict  regard  to  truth,  and  in  the  latter,  to  righ- 
teousness. We  must  render  to  every  one  his  due.  And  what 
that  is  may  be  pretty  easily  known,  if  men  will  but  listen  to  the 
dictates  of  reason  and  conscience.  But,  alas  !  it  too  often  hap- 
pens that  reason  is  perverted  by  prejudice,  and  conscience  over- 
ruled by  interest.  Admitting  however  that  difficult  cases  may 
arise,  yet  there  is  a  plain  rule  our  Saviour  hath  laid  dowa,  whicli, 
if  duly  regarded,  will  scarcely  ever  fail  of  giving  a  right  direc- 
tion to  our  conduct.  *  AH  things  whatsoever  ye  would  that 
men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them  a.'  It  cannot  be 
expected  I  should  enumerate  the  various  instances,  to  which 
this  rule  may  be  applied.  Its  use,  however,  in  the  general,  will, 
upon  the  sUghtest  reflection,  clearly  appear.  Self-love  makes 
men  very  jealous  of  their  own  rights,  and  very  expert  in  fixing 
their  own  dues.  We  should  therefore  put  ourselves  in  the 
place  of  him  we  are  concerned  with,  and  then  ask  what  our  de-»' 
mands  would  be.  Such  should  be  the  practice  of  magistrates 
and  people,  of  parents  and  children,  of  masters  and  servants,  of 
the  buyer  and  the  seller.  So  should  we  be  enabled  to  judge  im- 
partially what  is  our  duty  in  every  relation  of  life.  Nor  would  it 
be  possible  for  us,  did  we  thus  judge,  to  err  widely  from  the 
path  of  righteousness. 

But  the  matter  lies  chiefly  with  conscience.  For  acts  of  in- 
justice proceed  more  commonly  from  the  depravity  of  the  heart, 
than  any  defect  in  the  judgment.  If  the  mind  is  well  princir 
pled,  there  will  be  a  uniform  and  steady  regard  to  truth  and  jus- 
tice, in  the  general  course  of  a  person's  conduct.  A  man  of  re- 
ligion hath  a  court  of  equity  estabUshed  in  his  own  breast,  whose 
authority  will  extend  to  all  his  actions — to  those  which  are  not 
ft^Matt.  vU.  12, 


OF  RELIGION.  183 

cognisable  by  the  civil  magistrate,  as  well  as  those  which  are.  He 
will  not  allow  himself  in  any  thing  which  appears  to  him  unjust, 
though  the  doing  it  may  expose  him  to  no  temporal  inconve- 
nience whatever.  Nay,  in  matters  that  are  doubtful,  he  will 
choose  to  give  the  turn  of  the  scale  rather  in  favour  of  his  neigh- 
bour than  of  himself. — Now  for  the  illustration  of  the  several 
duties  of  truth  and  righteousness,  let  us  consider  them  in  refer- 
ence— to  the  persons — the  properties — ^^and  the  characters  of 
our  fellow-creatures. 

1.  As  to  t\\Q\v  persons.  Justice  requires  that  we  be  harmless 
and  inoffensive,  decent  and  civil,  in  our  behaviour  towards  all 
men.  We  are  to  be  careful  that  we  do  nothing  whereby  our 
neighboior  may  be  injured,  in  his  body  or  his  mind,  directly  or 
indirectly,  by  any  immediate  act  of  violence,  or  by  our  ill  ad- 
vice, example  or  influence.  But  on  the  contrary,  we  are  to 
shew  him  all  the  regard  that  is  his  due,  that  is,  to  contribute 
what  lies  in  our  own  power  to  the  health,  ease  and  prosperity, 
both  of  his  outward  and  inward  man.  When  we  see  him  in  any 
danger,  we  are  to  rescue  him  from  it.  And  when  we  have  an 
opportunity  to  do  him  any  real  service,  we  are  cheerfully  to  em- 
brace it.  And  our  obligations  thus  to  act  towards  individuals, 
ar-e  to  be  estimated  by  the  nearness  of  our  relation  to  them,  by 
the  particular  situation  we  happen  to  be  in,  and  by  the  abilities 
and  influence  we  possess. 

2.  As  to  our  neighbour's  property.  Justice  requires  that  we 
idefraud  no  man  of  his  substance,  either  by  open  violence,  or  by 
art  and  collusion  ;  but  that  we  render  to  every  one  his  diie^  trtr- 
bute  to  whom  tribute,  custom  to  ivhom  custom,  fear  to  whom  fear, 
honour  to  ivhom  honour  is  due.  We  are  to  oice  no  mail  any 
thing  a  ;  but  to  have  a  good  conscience,  in  all  things  willing  to 
live  honestly  b.  The  magistrate  is  to  protect  the  subject  in  the 
enjoyment  of  his  liberty  and  property ;  and  the  subject  is  to  do 
all  proper  homage  to  the  magistrate,  and  to  support  and  assist 
him  in  the  execution  of  his  office.  The  servant  is  to  act  with 
all  fidelity  towards  his  master's  interest ;  and  the  master  is  pro- 
perly to  reward  the  servant's  labour  and  integrity.  And  so  per- 
sons in  trade  and  business  are  to  keep  their  contracts  inviolable, 
and  not  to  over-reach  or  deceive  one  another ;  but  in  all  their 
a  Rom.  xiii.  7,  8.  b  Heb.  xlji.  18. 


184  THE  FRUITS 

transactions,  to  do  as  they  would  be  done  by.  Thus  wc  are  to 
be  true  to  our  engagements,  faithful  to  our  trusts,  and  fair  in 
our  dealings. — There  is  a  justice  also  due  to  our  benefactors, 
which  is  to  be  expressed  by  a  grateful  acknowledgment  of  the 
favours  we  have  received,  and  every  suitable  return  our  circum- 
stances will  admit  of.     And  then  again, 

3.  As  to  the  characters  of  men  :  an  equitable  regard  is  to  be 
paid  to  them.  Too  many  there  are,  who  though  they  dare  not 
rob  their  neighbour  of  his  substance,  yet  do  not  think  much  of 
taking  from  him  his  good  name.  But  if  a  good  name  is  better 
than  precious  ointment,  if  it  is  more  valuable  to  an  honest  man 
than  any  worldly  possession  whatever,  yea  I  may  add,  than  life 
itself;  to  deprive  him  of  it,  or  to  take  measures  to  that  purpose, 
is  an  act  of  the  most  cruel  and  atrocious  injustice.  The  man  of 
religion  therefore,  will  be  so  far  from  bearing  false  witness  against 
another,  that  he  will  be  cautious  how  he  insinuates  any  thing  to 
his  disadvantage.  Nay,  he  will  be  inclined  to  put  a  favourable 
construction  upon  actions  that  are  doubtful,  and  even  upon  those 
which  may  be  in  some  respects  blameworthy.  Put  them  in 
mind,  says  the  apostle  to  Titus,  to  speak  evil  of  no  man  a. 

And  now,  methinks,  I  hardly  need  remind  you  of  the  mighty 
influence  of  real  religion,  to  produce  these  fruits  of  righteous- 
ness in  our  tempers  and  conduct  towards  each  other.  Where- 
ever  that  prevails,  there  will  most  certainly  be  a  principle  of 
truth  and  justice  deeply  rooted  in  the  heart.  And  that  will  se- 
cure a  man,  not  only  from  what  is  strictly  unjust  and  wicked,  but 
from  what  is  mean  and  base.  A  fraudulent,  oppressive  and  un- 
generous action,  he  will  detest,  while,  on  the  contrary,  he  will 
take  tbe  highest  pleasure  in  actions  that  are  just,  honourable  and 
good.  As  to  the  injuries  which  men  offer  to  one  anothers'  per- 
sons, they  are  usually  the  effect  of  undue  anger  and  resentment. 
But  the  grace  of  God  will  teach  and  enable  the  Christian  to 
check  and  restrain  his  tumultuous  passions,  and  so  to  forbear 
the  consequences  of  them.  Covetousness  is  the  source  of  all  the 
dishonesty  and  fraud  there  is  in  the  world.  It  puts  men  upon 
invading  each  others  property,  and  eagerly  grasping  at  every 
opportunity,  however  unfair,  of  becoming  rich.  But  religion 
will  mortify  our  hearts  to  the  world,  or  at  least  so  far  bridle  our 

a  Tit.  iii.  2. 


OF  RELIGION.  185 

covetous  desires,  as  effectually  to  secure  us  from  doing  injustice 
to  our  neighbour's  property.  In  a  word,  envy  and  malice  are 
the  true  causes  of  slander  and  detraction,  and  of  all  that  cruel 
abuse  which  is  sometimes  offered  to  innocent  and  virtuous  cha- 
racters. But  here  also  religion  will  have  its  influence.  It  will 
subdue  these  diabolical  passions,  and  so  prevent  the  injury  which 
way  thence  result  to  our  neighbour's  reputation. 

And  then  the  considerations  which  religion  suggests  to  the 
mind  in  favour  of  truth  and  justice,  are  of  the  most  persuasive 
and  animating  nature.  The  ever-blessed  God  is  '  a  God  of 
truth,  and  without  iniquity :  just  and  right  is  he  «.'  '  Justice 
and  judgment  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne  :  mercy  and  truth 
go  before  his  face  6.'  Striking  displays  he  has  given  of  these 
his  perfections,  in  various  instances  of  his  conduct  towards  man- 
kind ;  but  especially  in  our  redemption  by  Jesus  Christ.  An 
event  which  is  the  astonishment  of  angels  as  Avell  as  men  !  In 
order  to  secure  the  rights  of  his  government,  and  to  make  way 
for  the  return  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  these  temples  he  had  righ- 
teously forsaken ;  he  sent  his  Son  into  our  world,  to  obey  the 
law  we  had  broken,  and  to  suffer  the  penalties  of  it  in  his  own 
person  on  the  cross.  What  an  amazing  expression  of  justice 
was  this  !  God  has  thus  declared  his  righteousness  for  the  re- 
mission of  sins  c.  He  has  told  us,  with  a  voice  which  speaks 
louder  than  that  which  condemned  legions  of  rebel-angels  to 
chains  of  darkness  and  fire,  that  he  is ^ms^  while  he  justifies  him 
who  believes  in  Jesus  d.  And  who  can  give  full  credit  to  this, 
and  not  feel  the  warmest  resentments  kindled  in  his  breast,  at 
the  very  idea  of  fraud,  oppression  and  injustice  ? 

This  same  Jesus  also,  who  was  thus  the  minister  of  God's  jus- 
tice, did  himself,  while  here  on  earth,  set  the  fairest  pattern  of 
truth  and  righteousness.  So  far  was  he  from  injuring  any  man's 
person,  that  he  neither  strove  nor  cried,  nor  was  his  voice  heard 
in  the  streets  e.  He  rendered  to  Caesar  the  things  tJiat  were  Ccb- 
sar's,  and  to  God  t/i£  things  that  were  God's  f.  And  there 
was  no  guile,  no  falsehood  or  detraction,  found  in  his  mouth  g. 
And  if  we  view  him  in  the  character  of  Mediator,  presiding 
over  the  kingdom   of  providence  and  grace ;  we   shall  see  him 

a  Deut.  xxxii.  4.         b  Psal.  Ixxxix.  14.       c  Rom.  Hi.  25.         d  Rom.  iii.  26. 
e  Matt.  xii.  19.  /Mark  xii.  17,  g  1  Pet.  ii,  22. 


186  THE  FRUITS 

swaying  his  sceptre  with  truth  and  justice.  He  judges  the  peo- 
pie  with  righteousness,  and  the  poor  with  judgment  a.  In  a 
word  there  is  a  day  coming  in  which  we  are  assured  he  will 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness  b.  A  day  wherein  he  will  bring 
every  secret  thing  to  light,  will  weigh  the  characters  of  men  in 
a  just  balance,  and  dispense  rewards  and  punishments  to  all, 
with  an  equal  hand. — What  powerful  considerations  are  these 
to  influence  the  tempers  and  regulate  the  conduct  of  all  such 
who  are  Christians  indeed  !  Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  next 
branch  of  social  duty  I  proposed  to  explain  and  enforce.  And 
that  is, 

Secondly,  Peaceahleness. 

By  peaceahleness  I  mean  a  disposition  to  live  upon  terms  of 
friendship  and  good-will  with  all  around  us,  and  the  use  of  pro- 
per endeavours  to  that  end.  This  indeed  is  an  object  which, 
however  desirable,  cannot  always  be  attained.  Whence  the 
apostle  says,  If  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  in  you,  live  peace- 
ably with  all  men  c.  So  violent,  in  some  instances,  are  the 
prejudices  of  the  wicked  against  those  of  the  opposite  character, 
that  it  is  not  in  the  power,  either  of  prudence  or  good  nature, 
to  subdue  their  cruel  and  unreasonable  resentments.  What 
we  have  therefore  to  do  in  these  cases  is,  to  detach  ourselves 
from  all  connections  with  such  persons.  And  if  still  we  cannot 
escape  their  malevolence,  we  are  to  endure  it  with  patience. 
As  to  some  good  men  likewise,  it  is  possible  that  their  natural 
tempers,  and  an  obstinate  attachment  to  some  peculiarities  of 
their  own,  may  forbid  our  having  a  strict  intimacy  with  them. 
We  are  however  to  cherish  good-will  towards  them,  and  to  be 
ready  on  all  occasions  to  do  them  offices  of  kindness. — There 
are  instances  also,  in  which  it  is  unlawful  to  cultivate  peace 
with  others.  This  is  the  case  when  peace  is  not  to  be  enjoyed, 
but  at  the  expence  of  truth  and  holiness.  The  dearest  connec- 
tions are  to  be  sacrificed,  rather  than  sin  indulged.  And  truth 
having  been  once  bought,  is  to  be  parted  with  on  no  considera- 
tion whatever.  Yet  we  should  not  forget  in  the  former  in- 
stance, to  mingle  charity  with  justice  ;  and  in  the  latter,  mode- 
ration with  zeal. 

a  Psal.  Ixxii.  2.  b  Act*  xvji.  31.  c  Rom.  xiL  18. 


OF  RELIGION.  187 

Thus  much  premised,  I  go  on  now  to  explain  and  illustrate 
the  two  main  expressions  of  this  temper.  They  are  these — the 
living  in  peace  ourselves — and  the  promoting  it  as  much  as  pos- 
sible among  others. 

1.  The  good  man  will  himself  cultivate  peace  with  all  around 
hira — with  men  in  general,  but  especially  with  his  relations  and 
his  fellow-Christians.  He  will  seek  peace  and  pursue  it  a. 
To  this  end,  he  will  carefully  avoid  giving  offence  to  any,  by  an 
unsuitable  behaviour  towards  their  persons,  their  properties,  or 
their  reputation.  So  the  apostle  admonishes  the  Corinthians, 
to  give  none  offence,  neither  to  the  Jews,  nor  to  the  Gentiles,  nor 
to  the  church  of  God.  And  the  admonition  he  enforces  with 
his  own  example.  Even  as  I  please  all  men  in  all  things,  not 
seeking  mine  own  projit,  but  the  pro/it  of  many,  that  they  may 
be  saved  b.  That  is,  he  endeavoured  to  accommodate  himself 
to  all,  in  matters  that  were  indifferent,  and  so  far  as  was  con- 
sistent with  a  good  conscience.  The  peaceable  man  will  study 
the  capacities,  tempers  and  circumstances  of  others,  and  suit 
himself  to  them  accordingly.  He  will  lay  a  restraint  on  his 
passions,  and  exercise  forbearance  and  self-denial,  for  the  sake  of 
peace.  So  did  Abraham,  upon  occasion  of  a  dispute  between 
his  servants  and  Lot's,  which  had  like  to  have  broke  the  har- 
mony that  subsisted  between  the  two  families.  He  said  to  Lot, 
Let  there  be  no  strife,  J  pray  thee,  between  me  and  thee ,-  for  we 
are  brethren.  If  thou  wilt  take  the  left  hand,  then  I  will  go  to 
the  right ;  or  if  thou  depart  to  the  right  hand,  then  will  I  go  to 
the  left  c.  And  if  it  so  happens  that  his  brother  is  offended  with 
him,  though  without  cause,  he  will  feel  pain  till  the  difference 
is  composed. 

And  as  he  will  be  thus  cautious  how  he  gives  offence,  so  he 
will  not  be  forward  to  take  it.  He  will  be  apt  to  put  the  most 
favourable  construction  on  the  words  and  actions  of  others,  and 
not  hastily  to  conclude,  when  he  hath  received  an  injury,  that  it 
was  intended.  He  will  suffer  long,  and  not  be  easily  provoked  d. 
Or  if  the  affront  be  real  and  wilful,  he  will  not  be  implacable. 
The  wisdom  that  is  from  above,  is  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to 
be  entreated  e.     But  of  the  duty  of  forgiveness  we  shall  have 

a  PsaJ.  xxxiv.  14.  h  1  Cor.  x.  32,  33.  e  Gen.  xiii.  8,  9. 

d  1  Cor.  xiii.  4,  5.  e  Jame«  iii.  17. 


188  THE  FRUITS 

occasion  to  speak  afterwards. — Such  is  the  temper  and  conduct 
of  the  peaceable  Christian,  in  regard  of  his  own  personal  con- 
nections.    In  like  manner, 

2.  He  will  endeavour  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  to  promote 
peace  among  others.  Blessed  are  the  peace  makers,  says  our 
Saviour,  yor  they  shall  be  called  the  children  of  God  a. 

Unity  among  his  own  immediate  friends  and  acquaintance, 
it  will  be  his  aim  to  preserve,  and  when  it  is  at  all  broke  in 
upon,  to  restore.  To  this  purpose,  he  will  carefully  avoitl 
every  thing  which  may  tend  to  set  persons  at  variance,  or  may, 
though  undesignedly,  inflame  their  passions  and  resentments. 
He  will  not  busy  himself  in  the  affairs  of  others,  or  officiously  in- 
termeddle with  their  disputes.  The  character  of  such  unhappy 
and  dangerous  persons,  the  apostle  particularly  describes  in  one 
of  his  epistles.  '  They  learn  to  be  idle,  wandering  about  from 
house  to  house ;  and  not  only  idle,  but  tatlers  also,  and  busy 
bodies,  speaking  things  which  they  ought  not  Z>.'  And  yet 
every  proper  opportunity  to  compose  differences,  he  will  readily 
canbrace,  using  all  the  prudence,  tenderness  and  influence  he  is 
master  of,  to  that  end.  He  will  labour  to  convince  the  parties 
t'onccrned,  of  the  great  folly  and  evil  of  contention,  of  their  ob- 
ligations to  peace,  and  of  the  honour  they  will  gain  by  mutual 
submission  and  forgiveness.  He  will  persuade  them  to  avoid 
repeating  grievances,  to  set  as  much  as  possible  down  to  the  ac- 
count of  misunderstanding,  and  to  put  the  most  favourable  con- 
struction upon  doubtful  circumstances.  And,  in  a  word,  he  will 
observe  inviolable  secrecy,  remembering  what  the  wise  man  says, 
A  whisperer  separateth  chief  friends  c  ?  and,  Where  there  i> 
no  tale-bearer,  the  strife  ceaseth  d. 

He  will  likewise  use  his  endeavours  to  cultivate  and  promote 
peace  in  the  church  of  God.  The  importance  of  this  to  general 
edification,  the  apostle  represents  in  several  of  his  epistles,  ex- 
horting Christians  to  follow  after  the  things  which  make  for 
peace  e  ,•  and  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  spirit,  in  the  bond  of  peace  f 
To  this  end  he  will  pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem.  He  will 
set  a  peaceable  example  before  others.  He  will  countenance 
^very  thing  which  tends  to  promote  union  and  friendship.     He 

a  Matt.  V.  9.  b  1  Tim.  v.  13.  c  Prov.  xvi,  28. 

«f  Chap.  xxvi.  20.  c  Rom.  xiv.  19.  /Eph.  iv.  3. 


or  RELIGION.  189 

will  take  pains,  as  far  as  his  influence  reaches,  to  suppress  jea- 
lousies, uneasinesses,  and  contentions,  in  their  first  appearance. 
And  if  yet  the  peace  of  the  community  is  disturbed,  he  will  in- 
terpose his  best  offices  of  counsel  and  persuasion,  to  heal  the 
breach,  and  to  restore  harmony  and  love. 

And  then  again,  the  preservation  of  the  public  peace,  is  an 
object  to  which  he  will  contribute  what  lies  in  his  power.  Con- 
siderini^  government  as  an  ordinance  of  God,  he  will  hold  it  hi:* 
unquestionable  duty,  to  render  all  proper  submission  to  it. 
Obedience  he  will  cheerfully  yield  to  the  higher  powers,  in 
every  matter  which  consists  with  the  allegiance  he  owes  to  Hea- 
ven :  and  that  not  only  for  wrath's  sake^  that  is,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  displeasure  of  the  magistrate,  but  for  conscience  sake  a* 
And,  for  the  same  reason,  he  will  labour  to  promote  loyalty, 
fidelity  and  union,  among  his  fellow-subjects. — These  are  the 
main  expressions  of  a  peaceable  disposition. 

And  now  let  me  shew  you  in  a  few  words,  how  true  religion 
assists  us  in  the  practice  of  these  duties,  and  by  what  consider- 
ations it  excites  us  to  them. 

It  assists  us  in  these  duties,  by  inspiring  us  with  prudence  to 
govern  and  regulate  our  conduct.  He  who  is  well  skilled  in 
self-knowledge,  will  derive  thence  the  most  important  maximsj 
cautions,  and  directions,  to  guide  him  in  all  his  social  intercourses. 
And  these  will  be  of  no  small  use  to  guard  him  against  strife  and 
contention,  if  not  to  qualify  him  for  the  difficult  office  of  making 
peace. — Humility  is  an  eminent  branch  of  religion.  And  how 
this  tends  to  promote  peace  I  hardly  need  say.  Pride  usually 
goes  before  contention,  is  the  cause  of  it,  mingles  itself  with  it, 
and  hath  the  main  influence  to  foment  and  increase  it.  Hu- 
mility, on  the  contrary,  wherever  it  prevails  in  all  its  genuine  sim- 
plicity, precludes  occasion  for  strife,  or  if  strife  is  kindled,  by 
its  kind  and  gentle  offices  quickly  puts  it  out. — Contentment  is 
another  Christian  grace.  And  its  effect  on  the  matter  now  be- 
fore us,  is  not  one  of  the  least  advantages  which  result  from  it. 
While  an  ambitious,  covetous,  restless  spirit,  by  prompting  per- 
sons to  iniproper  and  dangerous  pursuits,  almost  unavoidably  hur- 
ries them  into  disputes,  an  easy,  quiet,  contented  temper,  keep* 

a  Rom.  xiii.  5. 


190  ^HB  FRUITS 

the  good  man  out  of  the  way  of  these  evils,  or  if  he  does  at  any 
time  fall  into  them,  enables  him  quickly  to  extricate  himself. 
He  hath  not  those  eager  expectations  to  gratify,  and  so  being 
contented,  is  peaceable.' — Meekness  also  is  an  amiable  fruit  of 
religion.  And  its  direct  tendency  to  beget  and  promote  peace, 
appears  at  first  view.  There  would  be  no  contentions  and  di- 
visions, if  it  were  not  for  that  sharp,  angry,  fierce  temper,  which 
is  too  common  to  mankind,  and  which  is  apt  to  be  excited  and 
provoked  by  disappointment  or  contradiction.  This  it  is  that 
kindles  the  flame,  this  that  spreads  it,  and  this  that  ollten  ren- 
ders every  endeavour  to  quench  it  ineffectual.  But  the  grace 
of  God  restrains  this  impetuous  passion,  yea  corrects  and  soft- 
ens it.  It  infuses,  at  least  in  a  degree,  a  certain  mildness  and 
sweetness  into  a  man's  disposition,  which  prevents  his  wilfully 
offending  another,  and  enables  him  to  bear  injuries,  to  put  up  with 
them,  and  to  forgive  them. — Love  is  also  another  genuine  fruit 
of  the  Spirit.  And  among  the  many  expressions  of  this  divine 
temper,  that  of  peace  is  not  an  inconsiderable  one.  Good-will 
to  others  will  not  allow  me  to  quarrel  with  them,  if  I  can  any 
way  help  it.  And  cordial  affection  to  them  will,  in  a  manner, 
render  me  incapable  of  contention  ;  or  at  least  of  such  conten- 
tion with  them,  as  shall  have  a  mixture  of  malevolence  in  it. 
It  will  shut  up  the  avenues  of  the  heart  against  jealousy  and 
suspicion.  Or  if  they  force  their  way,  it  will  put  me  upon  con- 
triving every  possible  means  to  elude  and  escape  them.  Or  if 
after  all,  I  am  really  injured,  love  will  make  the  breach  oc- 
casioned thereby,  more  intolerable  than  the  injury  itself.  '  Cha- 
rity sulfereth  long,  and  is  kind ;  is  not  easily  provoked ;  thinketh 
no  evil;  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all 
things,  endureth  all  things  «.' — In  a  word,  that  zeal  for  the 
glory  of  God,  which  religion  inspires,  will  have  a  mighty  effect 
to  aid  the  Christian  in  the  practice  of  this  duty.  He  who 
makes  peace  his  object,  purely  from  a  principle  of  self-love,  and 
an  aversion  to  noise  and  clamour,  will  sometimes  find  his  na- 
tural easiness  of  disposition,  mastered  by  the  contrary  passions 
of  anger  and  ill-will.  But  here  religion  will  sten  in  to  the  re- 
lief  of  the  Christian,  just  beaten  and  subdued.  "  Shall  I  yield 
to  the  unpeaceful  resentments  of  my  breast  ?  No.  The  glory 
a  1  Cor.  xiii.  4",  5,  7. 


OF  RELIGION.  191 

of  God,  the  honour  of  my  profession,  the  interest  of  my  fellow- 
Christians,  are  all  concerned  in  the  issue  of  this  quarrel.  The 
kingdom  of  God  is  in  peace,  as  well  as  righteousness  a.  1  will 
therefore  submit."  And  by  submitting  he  conquers. — Thus 
is  a  peaceable  temper,  the  natural  and  genuine  fruit  of  a  prin- 
ciple of  religion  in  the  heart. 

Nor  should  I  forget  to  mention  the  motives  which  religion 
suggests,  to  excite  us  to  the  practice  of  this  duty.  God  is  a 
God  of  peace.  Christ  is  the  Prince  of  peace.  The  message  he 
brings  us  from  heaven,  is  of  the  most  kind  and  peaceful  inten- 
tion. In  order  to  make  peace  between  God  and  us,  he  became 
an  inhabitant  of  this  quarrelsome  world,  submitted  to  a  thou- 
sand indignities  from  the  sons  of  strife,  endured  the  contradic- 
tion of  sinners  against  himself,  and  offered  his  life  a  sacrifice 
to  divine  justice.  And  thus  in  him  we  see  righteousness  and 
peace  embracing  and  kissing  each  other.  At  his  entrance  into 
the  world,  the  friendly  angels  sung,  Peace  on  eo7'th,  and  good- 
will to  menb.  During  his  stay  therein,  he  set  the  most  amiable 
example  of  peace  and  gentleness  before  his  followers,  bidding 
them  learn  of  him,  for  he  was  meek  and  lowly  in  heart.  And 
at  his  departure  out  of  the  world,  he  broke  down  the  wall  of 
partition  between  Jew  and  Gentile,  reconciling  them  to  God, 
and  to  each  other,  in  one  body  by  the  cross.  To  promote  this 
great  design  of  peace,  he  is  gone  up,  in  our  nature,  into  heaven, 
hath  taken  the  affairs  of  providence  into  his  hands,  erected 
his  kingdom  in  the  hearts  of  his  people,  and  promised  them  the 
spirit  of  peace  and  consolation.  This  temper  I  have  been  describ- 
ing, is  represented  in  Scripture  as  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  Spi- 
rit, and  religion  as  consisting  much  in  the  practice  of  it. 
*  The  wisdom  from  above,  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle, 
and  easy  to  be  intreated ;  and  the  fruit  of  righteousness  is  sown 
in  peace,  of  them  who  make  peace  c'  On  the  contrary,  *  the 
having  bitter  envying  and  strife  in  our  hearts,'  is  said  '  to  de- 
scend not  from  above,  but  to  be  earthly,  sensual,  and  devilish  d* 
Innumerable  advantages  result  from  the  cultivation  of  peace,  to 
individuals,  families,  societies,  and  kingdoms.  '  Behold  how 
good  and  pleasant  it  is,  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity  e  !' 

a  Rom.  xiv.  17.  b  Luke  ii.  14'.  c  James  iii.  17,  18. 

d  Ver.  14',  15.  e  Fsal.  cxxxiii.  1. 


192  THE  FRUITS 

They  vvho  possess  this  happy  temper, '  are  the  children  of  God  «.' 
And  to  them  are  promised  all  the  joys  and  pleasures  of  the  hea- 
venly world,  where  perfect  union  and  undissembled  friendship  for 
ever  reign.  What  powerful  arguments  these  to  persuade  us  to 
a  peaceable  temper  and  conduct ! — It  remains  now  that  we  con- 
sider those  duties  which  are  comprehended  in  the  idea, 

Thirdly,  Of  Goodness.  A  general  term  this  which  is  ap- 
plicable to  all  acts  of  Forgiveness — Compassion — and  Love. 

1.  Forgiveness.  I  mention  this  expression  of  goodness  first, 
because  the  object  towards  which  it  is  extended  is  the  least  de- 
serving of  it. 

I  must  not  stay  here  to  enumerate  the  various  kinds  of  inju- 
ries we  may  suffer  from  others.  It  should  however  be  observ- 
ed, that  they  all  come  within  the  view  of  the  duty  I  am  recom- 
mending. What  I  mean  is,  that  the  greatness  of  an  offence 
will  not  itself  justify  our  being  implacable  to  the  offender.  It 
should  also  be  remarked,  that  through  weakness,  partiality  to 
ourselves,  and  the  violence  of  irregular  passions,  we  frequently 
err  in  our  account  of  injuries.  That  is,  we  sometimes  imagine 
ourselves  injured,  when  we  really  are  not :  we  sometimes  impute 
the  evil  we  suffer  to  a  false  cause,  or  to  the  wrong  author  :  we 
sometimes  hastily  conclude  it  to  be  designed,  when  it  was  owing 
merely  to  mistake ;  and  we  sometimes  rate  the  offence  done  us 
too  high,  and  take  not  into  our  view  those  considerations,  which 
tvould  greatly  mitigate  and  soften  it.  Now  these  matters  should 
all  be  well  weighed,  in  order  to  regulate  our  temper  and  conduct 
towards  him  we  are  required  to  forgive. 

But  admitting  that  we  are  really  injured,  and  in  a  high  de- 
gree, the  question  arises.  What  is  our  duty  towards  him  who 
hath  so  injured  us  ?  I  answer.  To  forgive  him.  There  are,  how- 
ever, certain  qualifications  of  forgiveness,  which  should  here  be 
mentioned. 

As  to  those  who  are  not  sensible  of  the  wrong  they  have  done 
us,  and  so  do  not  repent  of  it,  nor  make  any  retaliation  for  it ; 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  theT/  are  to  be  forgiven.  Revenge  is  a 
malignant  temper,  and  is  in  no  case  to  be  allowed.  The  reverse 
of  this,  therefore,  our  Saviour  teaches  his  disciples,  in  his  ser- 
mon on  the  mount  b ;  desirous  that  they  should  excel  in  that 
a  Matt.  V.  9.  h  Matt.  v.  38—41. 


OF  RELIGION.  193 

mild  and  gentle  disposition,  of  which  he  was  so  fair  a  pattern. 
And  the  apostle  charges  us  not  to  avenge  ourselves,  but  rather 
to  give  place  to  wrath  a.  It  may  indeed  be  necessary  for  the 
public  good,  that  some  kinds  of  injuries  should  be  prosecuted 
with  rigour.  Yet  even  in  such  instances  there  should  be  no 
mixture  of  personal  malice  or  resentment.  But  where  this  is 
not  necessary,  and  the  injury  is  of  a  more  private  nature,  the 
duty  required  of  us  is  to  lay  a  restraint  upon  our  passions,  and 
to  preserve,  as  much  as  possible,  the  calm  possession  of  our- 
selves. We  are  to  exercise  forbeai'ance,  and  to  make  all  rea- 
sonable allowance  for  natural  temper,  provocation,  and  other  cir- 
cumstances which  may  have  given  occasion  to  the  offence.  Mild 
and  prudent  methods  are  to  be  taken,  to  convince  the  offender, 
and  to  bring  him  to  a  sense  of  his  evil.  And  though  he  is  not 
to  be  wrought  upon  by  any  of  these  measures,  we  are,  never- 
theless, to  wish  him  well,  and  to  persevere  in  our  endeavours  to 
do  him  good.  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him  :  if  he  thirst, 
give  him  drink  b.  So  David  overcame  Saul.  And  so  the  for- 
ffivinff  grace  of  God  overcomes   the  rebellious  hearts  of  sin- 


ners, 


And  then,  as  to  svich  who  are  really  sorry  for  the  injury  they 
have  done  us,  and  sincerely  wish  to  be  reconciled  to  us,  we  are 
cordially  and  cheerfully  to  forgive  them ;  that  is,  to  pass  over 
the  offence,  and  to  be  upon  the  same  terms  with  them  as  before. 
If  thy  brother  repent,  says  our  Saviour,  forgive  him  c.  "  In- 
stead of  taking  any  advantage  against  him,  or  reproaching  him 
with  his  faults,  or  insisting  upon  hard  terms  of  agreement,  meet 
him,  embrace  him,  rejoice  over  him,  and  be  henceforth  in  per- 
fect amity  and  friendship  with  him."  So  should  we  ccnfort 
him,  to  use  the  language  of  the  apostle,  in  a  case  of  a  different 
kind,  lest  he  be  swallowed  up  with  over-much  sorrow ;  a^id  so 
should  we  confirm  our  love  towards  him  d.  Nor  is  the  repeti- 
tion of  an  injury  any  reason  why  it  should  not  be  pardoned, 
provided  our  brother  acknowledges  it,  and  is  sorry  for  it.  If  he 
trespass  against  thee  seven  times  in  a  day,  and  seven  times  in  a 
day  turn  again  to  thee,  saying,  I  repent ;  thou  shalt  forgive 
him  e. 

a  Rora.  xii.  19.  b  Rom.  xii.  20.  c  Luke  xvii.  3. 

d  1  Cor.  ii.  7,  8.  e  Luke  xvii.  i. 

VOL.  I.  N 


194  THE  FRUITS- 

And  now,  what  powerful  motives  does  religion  suggest  to 
animate  us  to  the  practice  of  this  duty  !  The  light  of  nature 
teaches  it,  and  by  many  arguments  enforces  it.  It  is  a  striking 
passage  of  the  famous  heathen  emperor  and  philosopher,  "  Do 
the  immortal  gods,  for  so  many  ages,  not  only  patiently  bear 
with  the  sinners  that  ever  have  been,  many  and  great  as  they 
are,  but  also  do  them  good  in  every  possible  way?  and  dost 
thou,  who  art  but  for  a  moment,  think  it  hard  to  bear  with  them, 
and  that,  notwithstanding,  thou  art  thyself  one  of  them  a  ?" 
But  such  is  the  darkness  and  perverseness  of  the  human  mind, 
that  the  reasonings  of  philosophy  upon  this  point,  have  often 
proved  imperfect  and  erroneous,  feeble  and  ineffectual.  The 
gospel,  however,  not  only  sets  the  duty  of  forgiving  our  ene- 
mies in  its  proper  light,  but  furnishes  a  motive  to  excite  us  to 
it,  which  is  peculiar  to  itself,  and  of  the  most  generous  and  ani- 
mating nature.  Be  ye  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  for-, 
giving  one  another,  even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  for givertr 
you  b.  How  plain  and  simple  the  exhortation  !  How  noble 
and  divine  the  argument  with  which  it  stands  enforced  !  God 
forgives  the  greatest  offenders,  and  innumerable  offences.  He 
forgives  most  heartily  and  sincerely,  yea  he  takes  pleasure  in 
forgiving.  He  forgives  men  for  the  sake  of  Christ  his  Son, 
whose  sufferings  and  death  he  hath  accepted  as  a  compensation 
for  their  offences.  And  he  not  only  remits  the  punishment  due 
to  them,  but  receives  them  into  his  favour,  treats  them  as  his 
friends,  and  delights  in  doing  them  good.  So  that  his  conduct 
serves  both  for  a  rule  to  direct  us  in  our  duty,  and  a  motive  to 
influence  us  to  it.  And  what  an  amazing  effect  has  it  had,  in 
some  instances  especially,  to  soften  men's  resentments  against 
each  other,  and  to  melt  their  hearts  into  tenderness  and  love  ! 
The  compassionate  Jesus  also  hath  set  us  an  example  of  for- 
giveness, as  well  as  recommended  it  by  his  instructions.  Fa- 
ther, said  he  when  expiring  on  the  cross,  forgive  them,  for  they 
know  not  what  they  do  c.  Nor  should  I  forget  to  observe,  that 
this  temper  arises  out  of  the  nature  of  true  religion,  is  one  of 
the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  and  furnishes  a  striking  proof,  where  it 
prevails,  of  our  ha.vin g  passed  frojn  death  to  life, 

a  Marc.  Anton,  lib.  vii.  b  Eph.  iv.  32.  c  Luke  xxiii.  34. 


i 


OF  RELrOION.  195 

2.  Compassion.  This  is  another  expression  of  goodness ;  and 
the  duties  of  it  rise  in  respect  of  their  obligation,  because  the 
objects  of  compassion  are  to  be  considered,  not  like  those  of  for- 
giveness, in  the  character  of  offenders,  but  purely  as  afflicted 
and  miserable. 

Now  compassion  is  that  affection  of  the  mind  by  which  we 
feel  the  distresses  of  our  fellow-creatures,  and  become  disposed 
to  assist  and  relieve  them.  Various  are  the  temporal  calamities  to 
which  mankind  are  liable.  Here  we  shall  see  one  reduced, 
perhaps  on  a  sudden,  from  circumstances  of  affluence  and  ho- 
nour, to  the  depths  of  poverty,  want  and  wretchedness ; — there 
another  lamenting  the  untimely  dissolution  of  his  dearest  and 
most  intimate  connections  in  life  ; — and  there  a  third  racked 
with  excruciating  pains  of  body,  or  languishing  on  a  bed  of  sick- 
ness and  death.  And  what  are  the  offices  of  mercy  in  these  and 
other  sad  instances  that  might  be  described?  The  man  of  this 
temper  feels  with  the  miserable  what  they  feel  ;  and  if  he  can 
do  no  more,  drops  a  tender  tear  of  commiseration  over  their 
pains  and  sorrows,  and  mingles  therewith  his  fervent  cries  to 
Heaven  on  their  behalf.  But  if  he  has  it  in  his  power,  he  in- 
stantly stretches  forth  the  hand  of  benevolence,  and  gratifies 
one  of  the  most  pleasing  affections  of  the  human  heart,  by  mi- 
nistering to  their  wants.  He  will  not  say  to  a  brother  or  sister 
that  is  naked  and  destitute  of  daily  food.  Depart  in  peace,  he 
thou  warmed  and  filled ;  and  at  the  same  time,  give  them  not 
those  things  which  are  needful  to  the  body  a.  Mercy  is  full  of 
good  fruits.  She  will  feed  the  hungry,  clothe  the  naked,  visit 
the  sick,  and,  according  to  her  ability,  afford  succour  to  every 
kind  of  distress.  Nor  can  the  offices  of  mercy  be  better  de- 
scribed than  in  the  language  of  Job  :  '  When  the  ear  heard  me, 
then  it  blessed  me.  When  the  eye  saw  me,  it  gave  witness  to 
me;  because  I  delivered  the  poor  that  cried,  and  the  fatherless, 
and  him  that  had  none  to  help  him.  The  blessing  of  him  that 
was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  me,  and  I  caused  the  widow's 
heart  to  sing  for  joy.  I  put  on  righteousness,  and  it  clothed 
me  ;  my  judgment  was  as  a  robe  and  a  diadem.  I  was  eyes  to 
the  blind,  and  feet  was  I  to  the  lame ;  I  was  a  father  to  the 
poor,  and  the  cause  that  I  knew  not  I  searched  out ;  and  I  brake 
a  James  ii.  15,  IG. 
N  2 


196  THE   FRUITS 

the  jaws    of  the  wicked,  and  plucked  the  spoil  out   of  his 
teeth  a.' 

Mercy  hath  respect  also  to  the  spiritual^  as  well  as  temporal 
distresses  of  mankind.  And  these  are  great — they  are  many. 
How  sad  a  sight  to  behold  a  soul,  an  immortal  soul,  a  soul  of 
more  worth  than  the  whole  world,  in  danger  of  perishing  for 
ever  !  A  soul  capable  of  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  yet  wholly 
ignorant  of  him  ! — formed  for  substantial  pleasures,  and  yet 
destitute  of  any  relish  for  them  ! — appointed  to  perpetual  exis- 
tence, and  yet  without  a  hope,  a  wish,  a  thought  beyond  the 
grave  ! — on  the  brink  of  eternity,  and  yet  secure  and  easy  ! — 
in  a  word,  laden  with  guilt,  and  yet  fearless  of  punishment ! 
So  sad  a  sight  as  this,  when  beheld  with  a  steady  eye.  cannot 
fail  to  pierce  the  heart  of  the  compassionate  Christian.  View- 
ing a  friend,  a  brother,  a  child  in  these  deplorable  circumstances  ; 
he  sheds  tears  of  real  sorrow  over  him,  addresses  his  fervent 
cries  to  God  for  him,  and  most  ardently  wishes,  by  his  counsel, 
influence  and  example,  to  become  the  happy  instrument  of  his 
salvation.  Such  was  the  temper  which  inspired  the  breast  of 
the  great  apostle,  and  expressed  itself  in  those  memorable  words 
respecting  the  Jews,  '  My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for 
Israel  is,  that  they  may  be  saved  6.' — '  I  have  great  heaviness, 
and  continual  sorrow  in  my  heart.  For  I  could  wish  that  my- 
self were  accursed  from  Christ,  for  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen 
according  to  the  flesh  c'  Thus  have  I  delineated  the  features 
of  this  amiable  grace,  and  pointed  out  the  several  duties  it  teaches 
and  inculcates. 

Nor  need  I  take  pains  to  shew  you,  that  these  various  offices 
of  mercy  are  the  proper  and  genuine  fruits  of  religion.  To  be 
humane  and  compassionate  is  a  dictate  of  nature — a  principle 
so  generally  approved,  that  few  care  openly  to  renounce  it. 
Nay,  some  men  who  are  otherwise  of  a  dissolute  character,  have 
very  tender  feelings  for  the  distressed.  But  how  is  the  natu- 
ral sympathy  of  the  heart  refined  and  improved,  by  a  deep  sense 
of  religion,  and  a  firm  belief  of  the  great  truths  it  reveals  ?  God 
is  merciful.  We  have  daily  convincing  proofs  of  it.  His  pro- 
vidence kindly  sustains  us  amidst  all  the  miseries  we  suffer, 
and   compassionately   protects  us  from  a  thousand  dangers  to 

a  Job  xxix.  11 — 17.  b  Roin.  x.  I.  c  Roui.  ix.  2,  3. 


OF  RELIGION.  19^ 

which  we  are  every  moment  exposed.  Yet  tliese  expressions 
of  divine  mercy,  great  as  tliey  are,  vanish  as  it  were  into  no- 
thing, when  compared  with  that  which  fills  the  breasts  ot"  mil- 
lions of  sinners  with  unspeakable  admiration  and  joy.  For  the 
great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  he  spared  not  his  ow?i  Son, 
hut  delivered  him  up  unto  death  for  our  sakes,  that  ive  might 
not  perish,  but  luive  everlasting  life  a.  Think  of  this,  Chris- 
tians, believe  it,  feel  the  blessings  which  result  from  it ;  and  be 
unmerciful  if  you  can — you  cannot.  For  he  icho  is  thus  rick 
in  mercy  hath  quickened  you,  when  ye  were  dead  in  trespasser 
and  sins  b ,-  and  this  temper — these  duties  I  have  been  recom- 
mending are  the  natural,  the  spontaneous  acts  of  that  new  life 
ye  now  live.  Ye  are  followers  of  the  merciful  God,  as  dear 
children  c  ,-  and  are  coif  armed  to  the  image  of  his  Son,  who  is 
fall  of  grace  and  truth  d. — It  remains  now  that  I  briefly  enu- 
merate those  duties  which  fall  under  the  idea, 

3.  Oi  Love,  And  these  are  of  the  most  exalted  nature,  and 
of  the  strongest  obligation.  For  the  objects  of  this  species  of 
goodness  have  something  farther  to  recommend  them  to  our 
regard,  besides  the  consideration  of  want  or  misery.  Not  to 
speak  here  of  such  whose  amiable  qualities  of  a  natural  kind 
can  scarcely  fail  of  attracting  our  regards ;  there  are  those  who 
stand  entitled  to  our  cordial  affection  and  confidence,  as  posses- 
sing the  nobler  gifts  of  virtue  and  religion.  These  having  the 
image  of  the  blessed  God  enstamped  upon  them,  and  being 
the  real  friends  and  brethren  of  Christ,  are  the  excellent  of  the 
earth.  Besides,  therefore,  tlie  respects  which  are  due  to  therft 
in  common  with  the  rest  of  our  fellow-creatures,  and  on  account 
of  the  afflictions  they  may  happen  to  endure,  it  is  our  unques- 
tionable duty  to  esteem  and  honour  them,  to  embrace  them  in 
the  arms  of  cordial  friendship  and  love,  to  associate  with  them, 
to  pray  daily  for  them,  and  to  make  a  point  of  it  to  promote 
their  interests,  both  civil  and  religious,  in  every  way  we  are  able. 
Are  they  happy  ?  we  are  to  rejoice  with  them.  Are  they  in 
distress  ?  we  are  to  sympathise  with  them.  Are  they  in  want  ? 
we  are  to  relieve  them.  Are  they  in  danger?  we  are  to  protect 
them.     To  our  counsel,  assistance  and  support,  they,  above  all 

a  Roin.  viii,  32. — ^Jolin  iii.  IQ.  b  Eph.  ii.  4,  3. 

c  Eph.  V.  1.  d  Rom,  viii,  29. — ^John  i.  ll. 


198  THE  FRUITS 

others,  stand  entitled.  But  it  were  endless  to  enumerate  tlie 
various  offices  which  Christian  love  and  friendship  demand. 
It  may,  however,  be  proper  here  to  throw  out  some  general 
hints,  for  the  regulating  our  acts  of  charity  and  benevo- 
lence. 

They  should  be  as  extensive  as  possible.  It  is  unworthy  of 
a  Christian  to  confine  his  regards  to  those  good  men  only,  who 
are  exactly  of  the  same  opinion  or  denomination  with  himself. 
And  it  is  a  reflection  on  his  prudence,  to  be  so  unreasonably 
liberal  to  a  few,  as  to  put  it  out  of  his  power  to  assist  others. — 
Yet  justice,  as  well  as  charity,  require,  that  our  famih?^,  our  ac- 
quaintance, and  those  of  the  same  community,  should  take  place 
of  strangers,  though,  in  point  of  character,  they  are  all  equally 
deserving. — A  regard  should  be  had  also  to  the  particular  exi- 
gencies of  our  Christian  Wethren  ;  the  greatest  and  most  press- 
ing have  clearly  the  first  and  largest  claim  to  our  assistance. — 
Nor  should  we  forget  their  stations,  abilities  and  usefulness, 
since  the  proportioning  our  liberality  by  this  rule,  is  not  only 
in  itself  reasonable,  but  tends  greatly  to  extend  its  utility. 
Much  there  is  likewise  in  a  kind,  obliging,  and  affiible  manner 
of  conferring  favours  on  those  we  love ;  for  hereby  their  value 
and  acceptableness  are  not  a  little  heightened  and  increased ; 
but  what  should  above  all  be  most  regarded,  is  the  principle 
by  which  we  are  actuated  in  these  various  duties.  A  sincere 
desire  to  please  God,  to  express  our  love  to  Christ,  and  to  do 
our  brother  real  good,  should  be  the  governing  motive  of  ouv 
conduct. 

And  now,  can  it  be  questioned,  whether  these  are  the  natural 
and  proper  fruits  of  religion?  The  character  of  the  blessed  God, 
■who  is  never  weary  of  doing  good ;  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  who  hath  enriched  us  at  the  expence  of  the  deepest  po- 
verty ;  the  reasonings  and  persuasions  of  the  Bible ;  and  the  ex- 
amples of  the  \visest,  best  and  happiest  men,  all  proclaim  aloud 
our  obligations  to  these  great  duties.  Nor  is  there  a  Christian 
living,  whose  heart  is  impressed  with  that  love  which  passeth 
knowledge,  and  who  recollects  the  refined  pleasure  he  has  often 
felt  in  doing  good,  but  will,  with  all  the  powers  of  his  soul,  echo 
back  his  loud  Amen. 

Thus  have  we  considered  the  duties  which  are  required  of  us 


OF  RELIGION.  199 

totcards  one  another,  and  which  are  to  be  practised  by  us  in  the 
several  relations  wherein  Providence  hath  placed  us.  And  now, 
what  think  we  of  them  ?  how  stand  we  disposed  to  them  ?  and 
what  is  the  general  tenor  of  our  conduct  ?  Is  it  our  aim  to  do 
justice,  to  love  mercy,  and  to  follow  peace  with  all  men  ?  and 
amidst  all,  Do  we  walk  humbly  with  God  a  ?  blushing  at  our 
innumerable  imperfections,  in  the  presence  of  that  infinitely 
holy  Being,  and  placing  all  our  hope  of  acceptance  with  him,  on 
the  mediation,  sacrifice  and  righteousness  of  the  great  Em- 
manuel ?  Is  this,  I  say,  our  temper  ?  and  under  the  influence  of 
these  principles,  is  it  our  concern  to  live  and  act  ?■ — Then  ara 
we  Christians  indeed. 

PART  III. 

We  have  seen  what  are  the  proper  expressions  of  religion  to-!- 
wards  God,  and  towards  our  neighbour.  It  remains  that  we 
consider, 

III.  The  several  duties  wo  owe  to  ourselves. 

Now  these  duties,  which  I  propose  briefly  to  enumerate  and 
explain,  result  from  our  natural  frame  and  constitution,  as  con- 
sisting of  soul  and  body  ;  from  the  connection  of  these  two  con- 
stituent parts  of  man  with  each  other ;  and  from  our  relation  to 
the  present  state,  and  to  that  which  will  succeed  it  in  the  world 
to  come.  Wherefore  two  things  are  necessary  in  order  to  our 
having  a  clear  idea  of  these  duties,  and  in  order  to  the  proper 
discharge  of  them.  The  one  is — A  due  knoicledge  of  ourselves. 
And  the  other — A  right  judgment  of  our  true  interests.  Each  of 
these  the  real  Christian  possesses.  The  grace  of  God  leads  him 
into  an  acquaintance  with  himself,  shews  him  wherein  his  hap- 
piness consists,  and  fixes  upon  his  heart  a  lively  sense  of  the  vast 
importance  of  his  future  and  everlasting  concerns.  Yet  these 
are  matters  in  which  the  best  of  us  are  but  imperfectly  versed. 
A  cave,  therefore,  to  improve  herein,  may  be  considered  as  a 
primary  duty,  and  indeed  as  a  necessary  mean,  to  those  other 
duties  of  which  I  am  presently  to  discourse.  For  this  reason 
it  will  be  proper  to  touch  briefly  upon  each  of  these  points,  be- 
fore we  proceed  to  what  we  have  chiefly  in  view. 

1.  As  to  the  knowledge  of  ourselves. 
a  Micc^  Ti.  8i 


200  THE  FRUITS 

When  I  say  ourselves,  I  mean  human  nature  in  general,  and 
each  one  of  us  in  his  own  state  and  character  in  particular. — It 
should  be  our  concern  to  know  in  general  what  man  is,  as  con- 
sisting of  soul  and  body ;  what  are  his  several  powers,  duties,  in- 
terests and  ends  of  existence  :  what  he  once  was,  when  he  first 
came  out  of  the  hands  of  his  Creator;  and  what  he  now  is,  in 
his  present  fallen  and  depraved  condition  :  what  are  the  means 
provided  for  his  recovery  from  these  sad  circumstances  :  what  is 
his  proper  business  during  his  short  continuance  in  this  life ; 
and  what  are  his  prospects  as  to  a  future  world. — And  then  as 
to  ourselves  individually;  it  should  be  our  concern  to  know, 
not  the  state  of  our  bodies  or  of  our  animal  nature  only,  but  of 
our  minds.  And  here  the  object  should  be,  not  merely  to  come 
at  a  just  idea  of  the  strength,  degree  and  extent  of  our  intellec- 
tual powers,  or  of  the  taste,  complexion  and  bent  of  our  natural 
tempers,  (the  knowledge  of  which  hath  undoubtedly  its  use,) 
but  chiefly  to  get  a  clear  view  of  the  true  state  of  our  hearts, 
what  are  our  prevailing  inclinations  and  tendencies,  and  what 
our  governing  principles  and  motives  of  conduct. 

Now  this  knowledge  is  most  interesting  and  important.  Our 
welfare  and  usefulness  depend  upon  it.  It  is  necessary  to  reli- 
gion :  it  is  one  main  part  of  it.  Nay,  without  a  competent  mea- 
sure of  self-knowledge,  we  cannot  perform  aright  any  of  the  du- 
ties we  owe  to  ourselves,  as  hath  been  already  observed.  Its 
utility  was  judged  to  be  so  great,  even  by  the  heathens  them- 
selves, that  the  precept,  Knoiv  thyself,  was  said  to  come  dawn 
from  the  gods.  And  I  hardly  need  tell  you,  how  earnestly  the 
sacred  Scriptures  recommend  it,  exhorting  us  to  take  heed  to  our 
spirits,  to  commwie  with  our  hearts,  and  to  search,  try  and  ex- 
amine ourselves. 

But  it  is  perhaps  of  all  others,  one  of  the  most  difficult  parts 
of  knowledge ;  and  that  on  account  both  of  its  prodigious  ex- 
tent, and  the  great  variety  of  obstructions  which  lie  in  tl  t  way 
of  acquiring  it.  It  comprehends  in  it  innumerable  particulars ; 
for  it  hath  respect  to  all  the  thoughts,  counsels,  reasonings,  pur- 
poses and  affections  of  the  heart,  which  are  amazingly  subtle, 
quick,  complicated  and  various  in  their  operation.  They  who 
are  unacquainted  with  the  construction  of  the  human  body, 
would  hardly  imagine  what  intricacies  there  are  in  that  particu- 


OF  RELIGION.  201 

lar  branch  of  science,  to  try  the  ingenuity  of  the  anatomist.  But 
the  mechanism  of  the  soul  is  far  more  curious  and  diversified 
than  that  of  the  body ;  and  of  consequence,  as  the  vitiated  state 
of  the  one  is  more  dangerous  and  obstinate  of  cure  than  the 
other,  so  the  right  understanding  the  distempers  of  the  heart  is 
attended  with  pecuhar  and  almost  unsurmountable  difficulties.  It 
were  endless  to  recite  them.  We  are  so  indisposed,  through  va- 
rious causes,  to  the  study  of  ourselves  ;  we  are  prepossessed  with 
such  strong  prejudices  in  our  own  favour ;  and  external  objects 
have  so  powerful  an  influence  to  divert  our  attention  from  this 
important  subject ;  that  we  may  well  complain  v,  ith  the  psalmist, 
JV/io  can  undei'starid  his  errors  a  ?  and  with  the  prophet.  The 
heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked,  icho 
can  know  it  b  ? 

Now  as  this  is  the  case,  the  utmost  skill,  resolution  and  dili- 
gence are  necessary,  in  order,  with  divine  assistance,  to  our 
making  any  progress  in  the  knowledge  of  ourselves.  It  behoves 
us  carefully  to  watch  the  mo'tions  of  our  hearts,  to  consider  well 
their  complexion,  spirit  and  tendency,  to  compare  them  with 
the  dictates  of  reason,  conscience  and  the  word  of  God,  and  to 
pass  impartial  sentence  upon  them.  We  should  endeavour 
frequently  to  rouse  ourselves  from  that  slothful  state  into  which 
we  are  apt  to  degenerate.  We  should  inure  ourselves  to  a  ha- 
bit of  reflection  and  consideration.  W^e  should  strive  to  divest 
ourselves  of  all  predilections  or  prejudices  in  our  own  favour. 
We  should  be  willing  rather  to  endure  those  censures  which 
may  be  the  result  of  a  strict  examination  of  the  heart,  than  to 
enjoy  the  sweets  of  a  self-complacency,  which  is  the  fruit  of 
miserable  ignorance  and  self-deception.  We  should  at  certain 
seasons  withdraw  from  the  world  in  oitler  to  converse  with  our- 
selves, and  make  our  reading,  our  social  communications,  and 
our  attendance  on  public  worship,  all  in  some  way  or  other  bend 
to  this  point.  And,  in  a  word,  it  should  be  our  prayer,  as  it 
was  the  psalmist's,  to  the  great  Father  of  lights.  Search  mc, 
O  God,  and  know  my  heart :  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts. 
And  see  if  there  be  any  wicked  icay  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the 
way  everlasting  c. 

a  Psal.  xix.  12.  b  Jcr,  xvii.  9.  c  Psal.  cxxxix.  23,  24. 


202  THE  FRUITS 

But  there  is  another  pro-requisite  to  the  riglit  discharge  of 
the  duties  we  owe  to  ourselves;   and  that  is, 

2.  The  forming  a  just  estimate  of  our  interests. 

This  indeed  is  the  result  of  self-knowledge,  always  accom- 
panies it,  and  lies,  together  with  that,  at  the  very  foundation  of 
the  experience  and  practice  of  religion.  For  what  religion  can 
there  be  in  the  heart  of  that  man,  who  is  a  stranger  to  himself, 
and  has  no  sense  wherein  his  true  honour,  importance  and  hap- 
piness consist  ?  Now  the  soul  is  our  nobler  part,  and  therefore 
demands  our  first  and  principal  attention  and  care.  It  is  the 
chief  seat  of  pleasure  and  pain;  and  of  consequence,  if  it  is  in 
an  unhealthful  state,  whatever  may  be  our  outward  circum- 
stances, we  must  needs  upon  the  whole  be  miserable.  But 
•what  is  it  that  is  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  the  soul?  It  is 
the  orderly  subjection  of  the  passions  and  appetites  of  nature 
to  the  dictates  of  right  reason,  and  the  regular  enjoyment  of 
peace  of  conscience,  a  sense  of  God's  favour,  and  a  cheerful 
hope  of  eternal  life.  This  account  of  the  matter  is  so  plain  and 
obvious,  that  few  will  venture  to  deny  it.  But  alas  !  there 
are  few  only  who  have  such  a  deep  conviction  of  it,  as  to  pro- 
duce any  considerable  effect  in  their  temper  and  conduct.  Here 
we  fail,  even  those  of  us  who  are  in  the  main  set  right  as  to 
this  grand  leading  point :  that  is  to  say,  though  our  best  inte- 
rest is  our  governing  end,  yet  our  attention  is  too  frequently  di- 
verted from  it  by  the  undue  influence  of  external  objects.  And 
hence  proceed  all  those  defects  we  so  much  lament,  in  regard 
of  the  duties  we  owe  to  ourselves.  Did  we  steadily  keep  in 
view  our  real  happiness,  the  practice  of  those  duties  would  daily 
become  more  and  more  easy,  cheerful  and  habitual.  The  la- 
bouring therefore  to  fix  on  our  hearts  this  estimate  of  our  true 
interest,  is  what  I  am  here  recommending,  as  previously  neces- 
sary to  what  is  to  follow. 

To  this  end,  it  is  of  great  importance  that  we  avail  ourselves 
of  all  the  observation  we  make  on  what  happens  around  us,  and 
of  all  our  experience  of  the  comfort  and  utility  of  religion,  by 
applying  such  observation  and  experience  to  the  great  purpose 
of  confirming  our  practical  judgment  in  favour  of  the  chief  goody 
preferably  to  every  emolument  or  advantage  besides.  The  en- 
joyments of  the  present  life  are  not  indeed  to  be  treated  with 


OF  RELIGIOX.  203 

cynical  indifference  and  contempt :  but,  since  we  arc  apt  to  over- 
rate thcin,  their  allays  and  imperfections,  and  their  criminal  and 
hurtful  tendency  too,  when  immoderately  pursued,  ought  fre- 
quently and  seriously  to  be  considered. 

And  here  we  shall  be  assisted  by  innumerable  facts  which 
continually  occur,  and  which  clearly  prove  the  vanity  of  the 
world :  such  as,  the  weariness  and  disgust  which  accompany  sen- 
sual gratifications — the  pains  and  disorders  of  animal  nature — 
the  accidental  calamities  to  which  we  are  every  moment  liable — 
the  rapid  progress  of  time — the  change  that  passes  on  every 
thing  around  us — and  the  triumphs  of  death,  in  various  forms, 
over  each  individual  of  the  human  race.  The  adverting  fre- 
quently to  these  facts,  would  have  a  happy  effect  to  lessen  our 
opinion  of  the  value  and  importance  of  sublunary  things  ;  and 
so  to  regulate  our  conduct  towards  them.  And  is  not  this  a 
piece  of  justice  we  owe  to  ourselves,  and  which  cannot  be  with- 
held v/ithout  a  manifest  injury  to  our  real  interests  ?  Why 
should  we  ignominiously  suffer  ourselves  to  be  imposed  upon 
by  appearances  ?  Will  the  little  feeble  present  pleasure  which 
arises  from  such  wilful  imposition,  compensate  the  pain  and 
misery  which  we  may  be  assured  the  disappointment  will  by  and 
by  occasion  ? 

In  order  yet  farther  to  establish  our  judgment  in  favour  of 
the  chief  good,  we  ought  to  consider  also  those  facts  which  prove 
the  infinite  excellence  and  importance  of  spiritual  and  divine 
things.  And  what  facts  can  do  this  in  a  more  clear,  striking 
and  convincing  manner,  than  those  held  up  to  our  view  in  the 
gospel,  and  those  respecting  the  powers  and  pleasures  of  reli- 
gion, which  stand  attested  by  our  own  experience  ?  Who  that 
beholds  the  Son  of  God  tabernacling  among  men,  expiring  on 
a  cross,  rising  from  the  dead,  and  ascending  up  into  heaven — 
Who  that  considers  the  provision  he  has  hereby  made  for  our 
pardon,  justification  and  final  happiness — Who  that  realizes 
the  last  judgment,  the  miseries  of  the  damned,  and  the  triumphs 
of  the  blessed — I  will  add,  W^ho  that  reflects  on  what  has  pass- 
ed in  his  own  mind,  when  he  has  learned  the  value  of  his  soul, 
and  the  desirableness  of  inward  peace,  hope  and  joy — but  must 
perceive  an  infinite  importance  in  the  great  concerns  of  religion 
—an  importance  which  exceeds  all  human  measures,  and  which 


204'  THE  PRUIT* 

makes  the  most  interesting  affairs  of  the  present  life  appear  lit- 
tle, trifling  and  inconsiderahle  ?  Such  effect  had  these  great  con- 
siderations upon  the  apostle,  when  he  cried  out,  Godforhid  that 
I  shoidd  glury,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  hy 
whom  the  world  is  crucified  imto  we,  and  I  unto  the  world  a. 

Thus  have  we  taken  a  general  view  of  these  two  great  points 
—  The  knowledge  of  ourselves — And  a  right  judgment  of  oar  in- 
terest;  which  are  the  grounds  of  the  duties  we  owe  to  ourselves ; 
which  duties  we  now  proceed  to  consider. 

Here  I  might  distinctly  enlarge  on  all  the  affections  and  ap- 
petites of  nature,  the  right  government  of  which  is  of  great  im- 
portance to  our  real  welfare.  But  this,  I  am  sensible,  is  a  sub- 
ject too  copious  to  be  particularly  discussed  at  present.  I  shall 
therefore  confine  myself  to  the  duties  of  Humility — Content- 
ment— and  Temperance,  which  are  comprehended  in  the  general 
idea  of  Sobriety,  and  which  may  be  very  properly  described  as 
duties  we  owe  to  ourselves,  since  they  chiefly  respect  matters 
wherein  our  interest  and  happiness,  as  to  the  things  of  the  pre- 
sent life,  are  more  immediately  concerned.  Humility  stands 
opposed  to  pride,  which  hath  for  its  object  honour  ;  contentment 
to  avarice,  which  hath  for  its  object  wealth  ;  and  temperance 
stands  opposed  to  sensuality,  which  hath  for  its  object  pleasure. 
To  these  heads  the  apostle  John  refers  us,  when  warning  us 
ao-ainst  voluptuousness,  covetuousness  and  !vir;l)ition,  he  speaks 
of  all  that  is  in  the  world,  under  the  notion  oi  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life  b. — Let  us  begin, 

First,  With  Humility. 

To  be  humble  is  to  think  soberly  of  ourselves,  as  the  apostle 
happily  expresses  it  c,  and  to  demean  ourselves  accordingly. 
Now  this  temper  is  distinguishable  both  from  pusillanimity  and 
affectation.  Some  few  there  arc,  who  frame  too  niean  and  low 
an  idea,  both  of  their  natural  abilities  and  their  religious  attain- 
ments. And  the  effect  is,  an  unreasonable  bashfulness  and 
dejection  of  countenance,  and  a  timid  irresolute  deportment. 
But  surely  it  can  never  be  a  man's  duty  to  think  otherwise  of 
himself  than  he  really  is,  or  of  his  condition  than  the  fact  re- 
quires. For  this,  instead  of  thinking  soberly,  would  be  thinking 
untruly,  and  so  humility  would  be  founded  in  falsehood. — There 

a  Gal.  vi.  li.  b  \  John  ii.  16.  c  Rom.  xii.  3. 


or  RELIGION.  205 

are  others  also,  which  is  tlie  more  common  ease,  who  affect  to 
think  contemptibly  of  themselves,  whilst  in  truth  they  have  a 
very  high  opinioii  of  their  own  worth.  This  is  what  our  Savi- 
our so  much  condemned  in  the  Pharisees  of  old :  and  it  is  the 
very  worst  species  of  pride,  for  it  involves  in  it  dissimulation  and 
hypocrisy,  and  is  a  prostitution  of  a  most  amiable  virtue  to  the 
base  purpose  of  gratifying  an  insolent  vice.  But  in  tl.ese  in- 
stances, the  appearance  of  humility  is  for  the  most  part  so  awk- 
wardly assumed,  that  the  vail  is  easily  seen  through,  and  so  it  de- 
feats its  own  intention. 

But  true  humility  is  such  a  temper,  as  is  the  natural  result 
of  a  fair  and  impartial  judgment  of  ourselves,  our  characters 
and  circumstances.  He  who  thhiks  soberly,  that  is,  truly,  of 
himself,  cannot  fail  to  be  a  humble  man ;  because,  whatever 
good  qualities  he  may  possess,  he  will  see  reason  to  estimate 
them  at  a  much  lower  rate  than  they  stand  in  the  opinion  of  those 
around  him,  as  he  is  himself  sensible  of  many  corrupt  mixtures 
which  others  candidly  overlook.  Pride  is  founded  in  ignorance, 
wilful  ignorance.  Men  take  themselves  to  be  what  they  really  are 
not,  and  so  are  vain  and  self-confident ;  and  the  effect  appears  in 
tlieir  countenances,  conversation  and  deportment.  But  the  reverse 
is  the  character  of  the  truly  humble  man.  Knowing  himself, 
he  is  cautious  how  he  attributes  that  to  himself,  which  doth  not 
belong  to  him,  how  he  overrates  the  good  he  possesses,  and 
how  he  undertakes  what  he  is  not  equal  to.  Deeply  impressed 
also  with  a  sense  of  his  own  numerous  follies  and  sins,  he  is  of 
a  lowly  and  contrite  mind,  or,  as  our  Saviour  describes  him, 
poor  in  spirit  a.  Nor  can  he  avoid  expressing  these  tempers 
in  an  unaffected  modesty  of  countenance,  language  and  beha- 
viour, lit  puts  on  humhkness  of  mind  h. — But  in  order  more 
clearly  to  understand  this  amiable  grace,  and  the  several  duties 
of  it,  it  will  be  proper  to  consider  ourselves  in  a  relative  view. 
For  it  is  by  comparing  ourselves  with  God  and  one  another, 
that  our  humility  is  brought  to  the  test;  and  it  is  in  our  mu- 
tual intercourses,  that  the  fruits  of  it  are  chiefly  discernible. 
Now, 

a  Matt.  V.  3. 

h  Col.  iii.  12.  ramivoipnoffu)!)],  loivUness  of  mind,  a  virtue  •«'ljich,  as  some  havo 
remarked,  was  scarce  knon'n  io  much  as  by  name  to  heathen  writei's. 


206  THE  FRUIT!^ 

1.  As  to  God.  When  the  Christian  sets  himself  in  the 
immediate  presence  of  that  infinitely  great,  wise,  holy  and  per- 
fect Being,  how  little,  ignorant  and  contemptihle  does  he  ap- 
pear in  his  own  eyes?  Awfully  struck  with  the  majesty  and 
glory  of  God.  he  loses  sight  of  his  own  importance,  and  ac- 
knowledges that  he  is  less  than  nothing  and  vanity.  Sur- 
rounded with  the  splendours  of  divine  omniscience,  his  highest 
attainments  in  knowledge  seem  to  him  but  as  the  dim  light  of 
a  candle,  amidst  the  refulgent  brightness  of  the  sun.  And 
overpowered  with  a  sense  of  the  infinite  purity,  rectitude, 
and  goodness  of  God,  he  is  abashed  and  confounded  at  his 
own  baseness,  vileness  and  wretchedness.  In  this  temper 
he  approaches  God,  or  however  wishes  always  to  approach 
him,  saying  with  Jacob,  I  am  not  worthy,  O  Lord,  of  the  least 
of  all  thy  mercies  a  ;  with  Job,  /  ahhor  myself,  and  repent  in 
dust  and  ashes  h  -,  with  Isaiah,  Wo  /S  me,  I  am  a  man  of  un- 
clean lips  c  ;  and  with  the  publican  in  the  parable,  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner  d. 

This  temper  expresses  itself  in  his  reasonings  about  God, 
checking  that  vain  curiosity,  that  presumptuous  forwardness,  and 
that  bold  positivity,  with  which  men  are  too  apt  to  treat  divine 
truths.  In  his  ready  subjection  to  the  commands  of  God,  each 
of  which,  convinced  of  the  authority  that  enjoins  them,  he  re- 
verently acknowledges  to  be  wise,  just  and  good.  In  his  sub- 
mission to  the  providences  of  God,  which,  however  adverse  and 
afflictive,  he  dares  not  censure  or  condemn,  but  approve  and. 
justify.  And  more  especially  is  it  expressed  in  his  cheerful 
and  cordial  reception  of  the  gospel,  which,  as  it  brings  us  glad 
tidings  of  great  joy,  so  holds  up  truths  to  our  view  extremely 
mortifying  to  the  natural  pride  and  vanity  of  the  human  heart. 
He  thankfully  accepts  salvation  at  the  hands  of  divine  mercy, 
as  the  fruit  of  the  mediation,  sacrifice  and  righteousness  of 
Christ ;  and  he  humbly  relies  on  the  promised  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  for  that  instruction,  assistance  and  support,  which 
he  finds  his  present  circumstances  manifestly  require.  And 
then. 


a  G(?n.  xxxli.  iO.  b  Job  xlii.  6. 

c  Isa.  vi.  5.  d  Luke  xviii.  13. 


01*  REtlGI05f.  20T 

S.  As  to  our  fellow-creatures.  A  comparison  of  ourselves 
with  others,  will  prove  a  farther  occasion  of  trying  ovir  humility, 
and,  if  we  are  really  possessed  of  it,  will  draw  forth  many  ge- 
nuine expressions  of  this  excellent  temper.  The  apostle  ex- 
horts us,  in  lowliness  of  mind,  to  esteem  others  better  than  our- 
selves a.  Not  that  we  are,  in  all  cases,  indiscriminately  to  give 
the  preference  to  others,  for  that  would  be  acting  contrary  to 
the  truth,  which  surely  can  never  be  a  man's  duty.  But  the 
meaning  is,  that  we  should  rather  be  partial  to  the  good  qua- 
lities of  others  than  to  our  own,  and  that  in  our  deportment 
we  should  err  rather  on  the  side  of  modesty  than  forwardness. 

In  regard  of  natural  endowments,  whether  of  body  or  mind, 
such  as  beauty,  understanding  and  the  like ;  a  humble  man 
will  remember  to  whom  he  is  indebted  for  these  advantages,  that 
it  is  God  who  hath  made  him  to  differ  from  others,  and  that 
what  he  hath  he  has  received.  Sensible  of  his  propensity 
to  self-complacency,  he  will  not  only  be  cautious  how  he  adverts 
too  frequently  to  these  endowments,  unless  it  be  with  a  view  to 
check  immoderate  bashfulness,  or  to  excite  thankfulness  to  God; 
but  he  will  be  disposed  to  contemplate  the  same  accomplishments 
in  others,  in  order  to  restrain  and  suppress  his  own  natural 
vanity.  So  far  will  he  be  from  feeling  envy  and  ill-will  excited 
by  such  comparison,  tha;^usual  effects  of  which  are  calumny  and 
detraction,  that  he  will  admire  their  virtues,  and  with  pleasure 
commend  them  ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  conscious  of  his  own 
blemishes  and  imperfections,  he  will  carry  it  modestly,  candidly, 
and  affably  towards  all  men. 

In  like  manner,  as  to  our  civil  connections,  or  the  station  of 
life  we  fill.  True  humility  will  teach  a  man  not  to  value  him- 
self on  account  of  the  riches  or  honours  he  possesses,  and  so 
treat  those  in  inferior  circumstances,  with  supercilious  haughti- 
ness and  contempt;  for  he  will  remember,  that  these  distinc- 
tions are  of  trifling  account  in  themselves,  of  no  importance 
when  put  in  the  balance  with  real  goodness,  and  that  they  will 
all  cease  at  death.  Reflecting,  therefore,  that  God  hath  made 
of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  that  dwell  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  b  ;  he  will  be  ready  courteously  to  perform  every  office  of 
kindness  to  the  meanest  of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  to  conde- 
e  Pbil.  ii.  3.  6  Acts  xvii.  26. 


208  THE  FRUITS 

scend  to  men  of  low  estate  a.  And,  on  tlic  other  hand,  this 
temper  will  incline  those,  whom  Providence  hath  placed  in  lower 
stations,  to  demean  themselves  with  all  hecoming  modesty  and 
decency,  laving  a  restraint  on  the  first  risings  of"  restless  ambi- 
tion, and  disposing  them  cheerfully  to  give  honour  to  whom 
honour  is  due. 

To  which  it  must  be  added,  that  in  regard  of  his  religious 
attainments,  the  Christian  will  give  striking  proofs  of  his  hu- 
mility in  his  behaviour  towards  both  good  and  bad  men.  As 
to  the  latter,  we  shall  not  see  him  with  an  air  of  self-complacency 
exulting  over  them,  like  the  proud  Pharisee,  who  when  he  said, 
God  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  this  publican  h,  meant  rather 
to  offer  incense  to  his  own  vanity,  than  sincere  praise  to  God. 
But  we  shall  hear  him  expressing  a  tender  compassion  for  his 
fellow-sinners,  amidst  all  their  guilt  and  misery ;  while,  with  a 
deep  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness,  and  unfeigned  gratitude  to 
Heaven,  he  cheerfully  admits  that  it  is  hj  the  grace  of  God  he 
is  ivhat  he  is  c.  Nor  will  he  countenance  in  his  breast  a  mean 
or  disrespectful  idea  of  any  of  his  fellow-Christians,  however 
inferior  to  him  in  spiritual  gifts,  or  other  nobler  attain- 
ments. So  far  from  it,  that,  like  the  apostle,  he  will  be  ready 
to  acknowledge,  on  all  proper  occasions,  that  he  is  less  thaii  the 
least  of  all  saints  d.  An  acknowledgment  this  which,  however 
at  first  view  it  may  scarce  seem  reconcileable  with  sincerity,  yet 
falls  very  naturally  from  his  lips,  who  is  deeply  versed  in  the 
knowledge  of  himself,  and  totally  unpractised  in  the  malevolent 
art  of  judging  others. — Such  are  the  outlines  of  that  humble 
temper,  which  distinguishes  the  character  of  the  real  Christian 
from  that  of  other  men,  and  is  the  first  and  chiefest  expression 
of  true  and  genuine  religion. 

And  now  it  were  easy  to  shew  you  our  obligations  to  this  ami- 
able temper  and  conduct.  The  humble  Christian  is  a  character 
which  fails  not  to  strike  every  beholder  with  reverence  and 
pleasure.  Yet,  alas  !  how  few  are  there  who  answer  to  that 
description  !  Men  are  naturally  vain,  proud  and  self-sufficient. 
Divine  grace  therefore  it  is  that  subdues  their  haughty  spirits, 
lays  them  at  the  feet  of  mercy,  and  moulds   them  into  a  meek, 

a  Rom.  xii.  16.  b  Luke  xviii.  11. 

c  1  Cor.  XV,  10.  d  Eph.  iii.  8. 


OF  RELIGION.  209 

lowly?  contrite  disposition  :  and  this  it  does  by  leading  them 
into  an  acquaintance  with  God  and  their  own  hearts.  Here  I 
might  shew  you  how  admirably  the  gospel  is  adapted  to  excite, 
cherish  and  promote  this  temper ;  so  that  he  who  is  a  stranger 
to  it,  hath  never  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  or  felt  its 
power  on  his  heart. — I  might  shew  you  what  peculiar  marks  of 
honour  the  Scriptures  put  upon  the  humble  man — the  peace 
and  pleasure  which  accompany  the  exercise  of  this  grace,  and 
its  usefulness  to  society — the  striking  examples  of  humility  set 
before  us  in  the  Bible,  and  especially  that  of  our  Lord  Jesus, 
ivho  being  in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal 
with  God ;  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon 
him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  men  ,- 
and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  Mm  self ;  and 
became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the  cross  a. — And, 
in  a  word,  I  raiglit  tell  you  of  the  many  great  blessings  pro- 
mised to  the  humble  Christian,  not  in  this  life  only,  but  in  that 
to  come,  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  king- 
dom of  heaven  b.  But  I  forbear — From  humility  let  us  go 
on, 

Secondly,  To  Contentment,  which  is  the  offspring  of  humi- 
lity, and  another  branch  of  duty  we  owe  to  ourselves. 

By  contentment,  I  mean  a  cheerfvd  acquiescence  in  the  will 
of  Providence,  respecting  our  outward  or  worldly  circumstances. 
Let  your  conversation  be  ivithout  covetousness ,-  and  be  content 
with  such  things  as  ye  have  c.  And  the  apostle  tells  us,  as  to 
himself,  that  he  had  learned  in  ivhatsoever  state  he  was,  there- 
with to  be  content  d.  Now  this  temper  is  very  distinguishable 
from  that  insensibility,  or,  to  say  the  best  of  it,  that  easiness  of 
disposition,  which  is  the  mere  effect  of  natural  constitution. 
One  man  may  be  so  framed,  as  to  be  less  susceptible  of  impres- 
sions from  external  objects  than  another ;  and  of  consequence 
may  seem  to  be  of  a  contented  mind,  while  he  is  a  stranger  to  • 
those  reasonings,  which  enter  into  the  spirit  of  this  divine  grace. 
The  behaviour,  however,  of  such  a  person  will  be  different 
from  that  of  the  real  Christian,  and  the  difference  may,  I  think, 
be  pretty  easily  discerned  by  a  sensible  observer. — It  is  also  far- 

a  Phil.  ii.  6—8.  h  Matt.  v.  3. 

c  Heb.  xiii.  5.  d  Phil,  i v.  11. 

VOL.  I.  O 


210  THE  FRUITS 

ther  to  be  premised^  that  contentment  does  by  no  means  forbid 
the  proper  use  ot"  all  lawful  measures  to  improve  our  condition 
in  life.  For  if  this  were  the  case,  it  would  cut  the  sinews  of  in- 
dustry, and  extinguish  some  of  the  most  useful  principles  to 
society  which  Providence  hath  implanted  in  the  human  breast. 
A  man's  diligence,  therefore,  in  the  management  of  his  secular 
concerns,  is  no  argument  of  his  being  defective  in  the  duty  I 
am  recommending. 

But,  true  Christian  contentment  stands  opposed  to  avarice. 
Now,  as  the  chief  expressions  of  an  avaricious  temper,  are  dis- 
quietude and  anxiety,  an  eager  and  restless  pursuit  of  the  world, 
envy  and  ill-will,  and  a  secret  murmuring  at  the  ways  of  Provi- 
dence ;  so  the  opposite  qualities  are  the  proper  characteristics  of 
a  contented  mind.  To  dwell  on  each  of  these  particulars  would 
carry  me  too  far ;  it  shall  suffice,  therefore,  in  a  few  words,  to 
contrast  the  two  characters. 

The  discontented  man  is  ever  restless  and  uneasy,  dissatisfied, 
with  his  station  in  life,  his  connections,  and  almost  every  circum- 
stance that  happens  to  him.     He  is  continually  peevish  and  fret- 
ful, impatient  of  every  injury  he  receives,  and  unduly  depressed 
with  every  disappointment  he  suffers.     He  considers  most  other 
persons  as  happier  than  himself,   and  enjoys  hardly  any  of  the 
blessings  of  Providence  with  a  calm  and  grateful  mind.     He  is 
careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  a,  anxious  for  to-morrow, 
what  he  shall  eat,  what  he  shall  drink,  and  wherewithal  he  shall 
be  clothed  b.     He  forms  to  himself  a  thousand  distressing  fears 
concerning  futurity,  and  makes  his  present  condition  unhappy, 
by  anticipating  the  miseries  he  may  possibly  endure  years  to 
come.     His  eager  and  passionate  fondness  for  the  world  hurries 
him  into  the   most  dangerous  pursuits,  and  sometimes  tempts 
him  beyonds  the  limits  of  truth  and   honesty.     He  seeks  great 
things  fur  himself  c,  and  resolving,  at  all  events,  to  he  rich,  he 
falls  into  temptation,  and  a  snare,  and  into  foolish  and  hurtful 
lusts,  which  pierce  him  through  with  many  sorrows,  and,  in  the 
end,  drown  him  in  destruction  and  perdition  d.     While  he  for- 
gets the  miseries  of  those  beneath  him,  he  is  envious  of  the  ho- 
nour and  happiness  of  those  above  him.     And,  in  a  word,  he 

a  Luke  X.  41.  b  Matt.  vi.  31. 

c  Jer.  xlv.  3.  d  1  Tim.  vi.  9,  10. 


OF  RELIGION".  211 

is  ever  petulantly  murmuring  at  the  divine  proceedings,  and 
ever  arrogantly  arraigning  the  wisdom,  equity  and  goodness  ot" 
Providence,  at  his  Own  partial  tribunal. — Such  is  the  character 
of  the  discontented  man. 

On  the  contrary,  the  contented  Christian  is  calm  and  com- 
posed, well  satisfied  with  the  lot  assigned  him,  or  at  least  dis- 
posed, be  the  inconveniences  attending  it  what  they  may,  to 
make  the  best  of  his  condition.  With  Agur  he  prays.  Give  me 
neither  poverty  nor  riches,  h\xt  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for 
me  a.  And  when  offers  of  worldly  greatness  are  made  him,  that 
seem  unnatural,  and  may  prove  dangerous  to  his  best  interests, 
he  replies  with  the  Shunamite,  I  dwell  among  mine  ownpeopleb. 
Having  learned  that  the  happiness  of  life  consists  not  in  the 
abundance  a  man  hath,  that  all  terrene  enjoyments  are  uncer- 
tain and  transitory,  and  that  nothing  short  of  the  favour  of  God 
can  give  the  mind  true  content ;  he  does  not  eagerly  pur- 
sue the  profits  and  emoluments  of  the  world,  much  less  is  he 
capable  of  purchasing  them  at  the  expence  of  honour  and  con- 
science. He  remembers  that  the  little  a  righteous  man  hathy 
is  better  than  all  the  treasures  of  the  tcicked  c  ;  and  that  a  good 
man  shall  be  satisfied  from  himself  d.  While  he  prudently 
provides  for  futurity,  he  is  not  anxious  about  the  event;  but 
leaving  the  issue  with  Providence,  he  persuades  himself  that  all 
will  be  well.  Pie  indulges  not  an  envious  disposition  ;  but  ra- 
ther rejoices  in  the  prosperity  of  others ;  and  instead  of  making 
himself  unhappy,  by  unduly  resenting  injuries  done  him,  he 
patiently  endures  them,  and  meekly  forgives  them.  He  eyes 
the  hand  of  God  in  his  afflictions,  and  so  dares  not  quarrel  with 
that  great  Being,  but  quietly  submits,  saying  with  Eli,  It  is  the 
Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good  e.  Nay,  the  weight 
of  his  troubles  he  lessens,  by  reflecting  how  much  greater  it 
might,  and  most  certainly  would  have  been,  had  God  dealt  with 
him  according  to  his  deserts.  In  short,  he  opposes  his  mercies 
to  his  afflictions,  his  joys  to  his  sorrows,  and  his  condition,  how 
ever  mean,  to  that  of  those  who  are  in  more  distressing  circum- 
stances than  himself;  and  so,  upon  the  whole,  with  a  cheerful 

a  Prov.  xxx.  8.  b2  Kings  iv.  13.  c  TsaJ.  xxxvii.  IG, 

d  Prov.  xiv.  U.  e  1  Sam.  iii.  18. 

O  2 


212  THE  FRUITS 

spirit,  he  acknowledges  that  he  is  highly  indebted  to  the  favour 
and  goodness  of  heaven — 

"  What  a  vain  thing,  says  he,  is  the  world  with  all  its  enjoy- 
ments !  It  will  be  of  little  importance  to  me  a  few  months  or 
years  hence,  whether  I  was  rich  or  poor,  applauded  or  despised. 
My  great  object  is  to  pass  through  life  quietly  and  usefully. 
Let  others  contend  for  crowns  and  kingdoms,  for  treasures  and 
possessions :  they  are  but  trifles,  yea  the  whole  world  is  nothing 
to  me,  in  comparison  with  my  immortal  soul.  I  rest  satisfied 
with  the  allotments  of  Providence.  What  God  does  is  right 
and  well.  I  choose  that  things  should  be  as  he  would  have  them ; 
for  he  knows  better  what  is  fit  for  me,  than  I  know  myself.  A 
thousand  mercies  have  fallen  to  my  share,  which  others  have 
been  denied.  For  these  I  am  thankful.  What  I  covet  above 
all  things  is  the  favour  of  God,  a  sense  of  it  impressed  upon 
my  heart,  and  a  perfect  conformity  of  temper  to  the  divine  will. 
May  I  but  be  allowed  to  converse  with  the  King  of  kings,  I  can 
be  content  to  be  a  peasant.  Nay,  I  can  patiently  endure  the 
frowns  of  the  whole  world,  if  I  may  enjoy  the  smiles  of  a  recon- 
ciled God."     Such  are  the  reasonings  of  the  contented  mind. 

Now  the  duties  of  contentment,  as  well  as  those  of  humility, 
QXQ  fruits  of  holiness,  the  genuine  product  of  true  religion.  The 
grace  of  God  subdues  our  rebellious  hearts  ;  and  so  the  various 
arcruments  which  the  light  of  nature  and  the  gospel  of  Christ 
suggest,  to  persuade  us  to  a  cheerful  acquiescence  in  the  divine 
will,  being  duly  attended  to,  have  their  proper  and  natural  ef- 
fect. These  arguments  are  too  numerous  to  be  particularly 
considered  here,  or  I  might  remind  you  of  the  doctrine  of  provi- 
dence, the  relations  that  subsist  among  mankind,  that  subor- 
dination which  is  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  society,  the  un- 
avoidable imperfections  of  the  present  state,  the  comforts  as  well 
as  miseries  which  attend  every  condition  of  life,  the  shortness 
and  uncertainty  of  our  continuance  here,  and  the  painfulness 
and  unavailableness  of  discontent.  And  to  these  considera- 
tions, I  might  add,  the  more  clear  and  glorious  discoveries  of 
Divine  revelation,  the  character  therein  given  us  of  the  blessed 
God,  the  uncontrouled  authority  which  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  represented  as  exercising  over  the  kingdom  of  providence,  his 
special  concern  for  the  welfare  of  his  faithful  people,  the  many 


OF  RELIGION.  213 

promises  respecting  our  temporal  interests,  the  striking  examples 
of  contentment  held  up  to  our  view,  the  rich  comforts  of  religion, 
and  in  a  word,  the  bright  prospects  of  a  future  and  eternal  world. 
Who  that  believes  these  great  truths,  enters  into  the  spirit  of 
them,  and  frequently  contemplates  them,  but  must  from  thence 
learn^  with  the  apostle,  in  whatever  state  he  is,  therewith  to  be 
content  ?  Say,  Christian,  have  you  not  felt  their  influence  to 
soothe  your  ruffled  passions,  and  to  diffuse  tranquillity  and 
cheerfulness  through  your  soul  ?  Such  then  is  the  effect  of  true 
religion. — And  he  who  is  thus  instructed  in  the  duties  of  con- 
tentment, will  also  find  himself  disposed. 
Thirdly,  To  those  of  Temperance. 

By  temperance,  is  meant  the  due  regulation  of  our  bodily 
appetites,  or  a  moderate  use  of  those  enjoyments  which  are  pe- 
culiar to  animal  nature.  As  to  gross  acts  of  sensuality,  or  di- 
rect violations  of  the  laws  of  chastity  and  sobriety,  they  are  so 
generally  acknowledged  to  be  criminal  (though  alas  !  too  fre- 
quently practised),  that  I  need  not  dwell  upon  them.  Few  will 
dare  to  be  open  advocates  for  such  indulgences,  since  it  is  agreed 
on  all  hands,  that  they  are  the  sources  of  innumerable  mischiefs 
to  the  persons,  substance  and  reputation  of  individuals,  and  to 
the  peace,  safety  and  good  order  of  society.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  therefore,  that  it  will  be  the  concern  of  every  real  Chris- 
tian, to  maintain  a  virtuous  character  in  the  view  of  all  around 
him :  and  their  pretensions  to  religion,  be  they  who  they  may,  are 
most  certainly  vain,  who  can  dare  allow  themselves  to  break 
through  the  fences,  which  the  laws  of  God  and  men  have  esta- 
blished against  vice  and  immorality.  No  !  The  grace  of  God 
that  bring eth  salvation,  teaches  us  that,  denying  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh,  we  should  live  soberly  in  this  present  world  a. 

But  what  I  have  chiefly  in  view,  is  to  explain  those  duties 
of  temperance  whereby  we  may  not  only  be  held  back  from  the 
criminal  excesses  just  mentioned,  but  from  all  such  approaches 
to  them  as  are  offensive  to  God  and  hurtful  to  our  real  interests. 
And  here  it  should  be  observed  in  general,  that  the  moderate 
gratification  of  our  appetites  is  by  no  means  sinful.  For  if  it 
were,  to  what  end  were  they  given  us  ?  It  can  be  no  harm  to 
eat  when  we  are  hungry,  or  to  drink  when  we  are  thirsty.     The 

a  Tit.  ii.  12. 


214>  THE  FRUITS 

evil  lies  in  excess.  And  since  we  are  prone,  through  the  pleasure 
which  results  from  the  gratification  of  our  appetites,  to  allow 
them  too  great  a  scope ;  it  is  our  duty  to  consider  the  proper 
ends  for  which  they  were  implanted  in  our  nature,  to  set  such 
bounds  to  them  as  reason  directs,  and  in  some  instances,  abso- 
lutely to  deny  them,  even  though  the  indulgence  of  them  may 
not  be  strictly  criminal.  Snch  a  treatment  of  ourselves,  under 
certain  circumstances,  may  be  very  expedient,  in  order  to  hold 
the  body  in  subjection  to  the  soul,  and  to  secure  our  nobler 
part  from  a  slavery  which  is  as  base  and  dishonourable,  as  it  is 
injurious  and  sinful. 

As  to  what  respects  Chastity.  We  are  not  only  to  abstain 
from  unlawful  connections,  and,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it,  topos- 
sess  each  one  his  vessel  in  sanctijication  and  honour  a  ,•  but  care- 
fully to  avoid  all  those  indecent  liberties  of  conversation,  reading 
and  deportment,  which  have  a  "manifest  tendency  to  inflame  the 
passions,  and  which  are  too  well  known  to  need  be  mentioned. 
We  are  to  suppress  impure  thoughts  at  their  first  rising,  to 
keep  a  guard  upon  our  imagination  and  senses,  to  make  a  cO" 
venant  with  our  eyes  h  ,-  to  lay  aside  all  Jilthiness,  foolish  talk' 
ing  and  jesting,  which  are  not  convenient  c,  and  to  pray  earnestly 
to  God  to  create  in  tis  clean  hearts  d. 

And  then  as  to  that  branch  of  temperance  which  respects  our 
food.  W^e  are  not  only  to  abstain  from  those  abominable  ex- 
cesses of  surfeiting  and  drunkenness  e,  which  totally  deprive 
men  of  their  reason,  and  degrade  thera  to  the  rank  of  brutes ; 
but  from  all  immoderate  use  of  meats  and  drinks.  And  here, 
the  rules  to  direct  our  conduct,  are  so  plain  and  easy,  that  they 
can  scarce  be  mistaken.  That  doubtless,  may  be  deemed  an 
abuse  of  the  blessings  of  Providence,  which  hath  an  effect,  in 
any  degree,  to  injure  our  health,  to  cloud  our  understandings, 
or  to  unfit  us  for  the  duties  of  life.  When  we  thus  transgress 
the  bounds  of  moderation,  our  table  becomes  a  snare  to  us  ;  and 
for  the  sake  of  a  little  present  gratification,  we  entail  disorders 
on  our  constitution,  defraud  the  poor  of  their  right,  and  put  it 
out  of  our  power  to  render  those  services  to  God  and  man  which 
our  station  demands.     But  regard  is  to  be  had  to  our  circum-r 

a  1  Thess.  iy.  3,  i.  b  Job  xxxi.  1.  c  E|>h.  v.  4^ 

d  FsaJ.  11.  10.  e  Lxike  xxi.  Z^. 


OF  HELIGION.  215 

stances^  as  well  as  to  the  health  of  our  bodies  and  minds.  Ex- 
travagance is  not  to  be  justified  in  any  :  there  is  however  a  kind 
of  plenty  and  elegance  which  well  becomes  the  tables  of  those  of 
superior  rank,  and  which  either  to  imitate  or  condemn,  argues 
equal  vanity  in  those  beneath  them.  But  it  requires  no  pains 
to  prove  that  that  is  intemperance,  be  the  motive  of  it  what  it 
may,  whether  pride  or  luxury,  which  hurries  persons  into  ex- 
pences  they  cannot  answer ;  or  ties  up  their  hands  from  those 
acts  of  liberality,  to  which  their  fellow-creatures  have  an  unques- 
tionable title.  Nor  should  I  forget  to  observe,  that  sobriety 
sets  limits  also  to  the  time  we  spend  in  avocations  of  this  nature. 
For  though  we  are  not  guilty  of  excess  in  either  of  the  instances 
just  mentioned,  yet  if  we  idly  squander  away  hours  in  the  gra- 
tifications of  animal  nature,  the  duties  both  of  civil  and  religious 
life  must  be  neglected,  or  at  least  considerably  hindered  and 
curtailed. — And  now  these  rules,  as  to  the  use  of  meats  and 
drinks,  may  for  the  most  part  be  applied  to  all  our  other  sensual 
ox  worldly  enjoyments. 

The  duties  of  temperance  thus  briefly  explained,  approve 
themselves,  I  make  no  doubt,  to  every  man's  reason  and  con- 
science. Yet,  so  violent  are  the  appetites  of  depraved  nature, 
that  multitudes  are  not  to  be  deterred,  even  by  the  laws  of  their 
country,  from  the  open  indulgence  of  them.  And  as  to  those 
whose  general  deportment  is  decent  and  sober,  there  are  but 
few,  it  is  to  be  feared,  whose  conduct  is  influenced  by  any  high- 
er motive  than  that  of  a  regard  to  their  health,  reputation  or 
worldly  interests.  It  is  the  grace  of  God  therefore,  and  that 
only,  which  effectually  emancipates  the  immortal  mind  from  the 
cruel  thraldom  of  bodily  appetites.  And  this  it  does,  by  setting 
the  Divine  Being  in  all  his  infinite  perfections  before  our  eyes, 
by  convincing  us  of  the  superior  value  and  excellence  of  the 
soul  to  the  body,  by  giving  us  a  taste  of  the  refined  pleasures 
of  communion  with  Heaven,  and  by  fixing  upon  our  hearts  a 
lively  impression  of  the  important  realities  of  a  future  state. 
And  as  Divine  grace  thus  puts  the  government  of  our  appetites, 
as  well  as  our  other  passions,  into  the  hands  of  enlightened  rea- 
son ;  so  the  gospel  supplies  arguments  peculiar  to  itself,  to  per- 
suade us  to  these  duties  of  chastity  and  sobriety.  As  particu- 
larly, God's  own  Son  having  been  madejlesh,  and  dwelt  among 


216  THE  FRUITS,  &C. 

US  a ;  his  having  bought  us  with  the  price  of  his  own  blood ; 
joined  us  to  himself,  and  made  our  bodies  his  members  b ;  as  also 
the  inhabitation  of  the  Spirit,  for  our  bodies  are  the  temples  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  c  ;  and  the  resurrection  of  the  body  at  the  last 
day.  lytep  therefore  tvho  are  Christ's  must  crucify  the  flesh, 
with  the  affections  and  lusts  d.  And  if  any  man  hath  not  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his  e. 

Thus  have  we  considered  the  several  duties  we  owe  to  God 
——to  one  another — and  to  ourselves,  which  are  all  comprehende(J 
in  the  general  phrase  in  our  text,  oi  the  fruits  of  holiness. 

And  now  it  remains  that  I  close  the  whole  with  two  or  three 
reflections,  which,  however  important,  the  length  of  this  dis- 
course will  but  just  allow  me  to  mention. — We  hence  see  the 
infinite  excellence  and  utility  of  true  religion.  For  if  the  du- 
ties that  have  been  described  are  of  such  consequence  to  the 
comfort  and  usefulness  of  individuals,  and  to  the  general  welfare 
and  happiness  of  sochty ;  that  surely  is  most  worthy  of  our  at- 
tention and  regard,  which  sets  these  duties  in  their  true  light, 
and  furnishes  us  with  the  noblest  motives  to  urge  us  to  them, 
and  the  only  effectual  aids  to  enable  us  to  perform  them  in  a 
right  manner. — By  this  extensive  view  we  have  taken  of  the 
fruits  of  holiness,  we  are  also  naturally  led  into  an  examination 
of  ourselves,  whether  we  are  Christians  indeed,  what  is  the  ge- 
neral tenor  of  our  conduct,  and  by  what  motives  we  are  in- 
fluenced. By  their  fruits,  says  our  Saviour,  ye  shall  know 
ihenif — And  since  those  who,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it  in  this 
context,  have  from  their  heart  obeyed  that  form  of  doctrine  which 
was  delivered  unto  them,  are  nevertheless  deeply  sensible  of  in- 
numerable follies  and  sins ;  how  shall  we  sufficiently  admire  and 
adore  that  grace,  which  has  made  so  free  and  ample  a  provision 
for  our  final  acceptance  and  salvation  in  Jesus  Christ !  Thus 
hath  the  blessed  God,  of  his  infinite  mercy,  effectually  relieved 
us  of  those  distressing  fears  which  would  have  miserably  per- 
plexed and  impeded  us  in  the  path  of  duty;  and  at  the  same 
time,  as  effectually  secured  to  himself  alone  the  glory  of  our 
everlasting  salvation.  But  of  these  things  we  shall  have  occa- 
sion to  discourse  hereafter. 

a  John  i.  14.  h  1  Cor.  vi.  30.  xvii.  15.  c  Ver.  19. 

d  Gal.  V.  24..  c  Rom.  viii.  0.  /Matt.  vii.  20. 


DISCOURSE  XI. 

THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN  OF  RELIGION. 
James  hi.  17. Tlce  wisdom  that  is  from  above. — 


W  HATEVER  treatment  serious  religion  may  meet  with  from 
the  generality  of  mankind,  it  certainly  is  the  noblest  guest  that 
ever  visited  our  world.  A  thousand  gifts  it  pours  into  every 
breast  that  receives  it, — gifts  which  directly  tend  to  enrich  and 
adorn  the  mind,  and  to  cheer  and  gladden  the  heart.  What 
they  are  we  have  in  a  former  discourse  seen.  Let  us  now  en- 
quire whence  this  most  kind  and  benevolent  stranger  comes  ;  or, 
in  other  words,  trace  religion  back  to  its  divine  origin,  shew  its 
heavenly  extraction,  and  how  it  is  first  generated  in  the  soul  of 
man.  An  argument  this,  which,  while  it  still  farther  evinces 
th«  excellence  and  importance  of  it,  will  teach  us  our  infinite 
obligations  to  the  grace  of  God  for  it.  This  wisdom,  says  our 
text,  is  from  above. 

That  the  apostle  is  here  speaking  of  the  religion  of  the  heart, 
and  of  the  genuine  fruits  of  it  in  the  life,  will  clearly  appear 
from  the  context,  and  indeed  from  the  general  scope  of  the  epis- 
tle. Many  there  were,  even  in  those  early  ages  of  the  church, 
who,  amidst  all  their  pretended  zeal  for  the  doctrine  of  Christ, 
indulged  a  temper  and  conduct  directly  opposite  to  the  true  spi- 
rit and  genius  of  the  gospel.  In  this  letter,  therefore,  directed 
to  the  dispersed  Jews,  he  sets  himself  with  great  earnestness  to 
reprove  the  folly  and  presumption  of  these  men ;  shewing  that* 
faith  without  ivorks  is  dead,  being  alone,  and  that  it  cannot  truly 
exist  in  the  mind,  if  its  influence  be  not  felt  in  the  heart,  nor 
its  effects  seen  in  the  life.  And  since  they  talked  much  of  their 
superior  wisdom  and  knowledge,  to  the  utter  neglect  of  vital 
and  practical  religion,  he  urges  on  them,  wise  as  they  would 
seem  to  be,  their  obligations  to  love  and  obedience.  *  Who  is 
a  wise  man,  and  endued  with  knowledge  amongst  you  ?  Let  him 
shew,  out  of  a  good  conversation,  his  works  with  meekness  of 


21^ 


THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 


wisdom  a.'  Whence  he  takes  occasion,  with  great  justness  of 
sentiment,  and  force  of  expression,  to  describe  the  different  cha- 
racters of  that  wisdom  which  is  from  beneath,  and  of  that  which  is 
/"rom  above.  As  to  the  former,  the  wisdom  of  which  these  vaiij 
and  formal  professors  boasted,  he  tells  them,  it  is  earthly^  sen- 
sual and  devilish,  it  derives  from  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the 
devil,  and  its  maxims  being  agreeable  to  corrupt  nature,  have  a 
very  general  and  powerful  influence.  But  the  wisdom  that  is 
from  above,  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  and  easy  to  be 
intreated,  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality,  and 
without  hypocrisy. 

By  wisdom  then  the  apostle  most  certainly  intends,  in  this 
place,  the  religion  of  the  heart.  So  it  is  very  frequently  describ- 
ed in  sacred  Scripture,  especially  the  Old  Testament.  The 
fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  b.  The  ways  of 
wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace  c. 
And  it  is  the  highest  expression  of  wisdom  in  the  whole  world, 
however  it  may  be  contemned  by  the  proud,  and  rejected  by  the 
vain  and  sensual  part  of  mankind.  If  to  have  just  apprehensions 
of  God,  his  nature  and  perfections,  of  ourselves  and  the  state 
we  are  in,  of  Christ  and  the  way  of  salvation  by  him,  of  our 
duty  and  the  manner  in  which  it  should  be  performed,  of  our 
privileges,  and  the  hope  that  is  set  before  vis  :  if  this  be  a  kind 
of  knowledge  of  the  last  importance  to  our  present  and  future 
interests,  then  is  true  religion,  in  which  all  this  is  included, 
justly  styled  wisdom.  And  hence  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
whose  doctrine  comprehends  in  it  all  these  discoveries,  is  called 
the  wisdom  of  God  d.  And  the  apostle  Paul,  discoursing  of 
the  excellence  and  sublimity  of  the  gospel,  thus  describes  it : 
We  speak  wisdom  among  them  that  are  perfect :  yet  not  tfie 
wisdom  of  this  world,  nor  of  the  princes  of  this  world,  that 
come  to  nought.  But  we  speak  the  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mys- 
tery, even  the  hidden  wisdom,  which  God  ordained  before  the 
world  unto  our  glory.  Wliich  none  of  the  princes  of  this  world 
knew  :  for  had  they  hnoirn  it,  they  would  not  have  crucified  the 
Lord  of  glory  e.  I  shall  not  stay  here  to  point  out  to  you  the 
wisdom  that  is  displayed  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  which  is  the 

a  James  iii.  13.  b  Psal.  cxi.  10.  c  Frov.  iii.  17. 

d  I  Cor.  i.  24.,  e  1  Cor.  ii.  6—8. 


OF  RELIGION.  219 

great  object  of  religion,  nor  the  wisdom  that  is  expressed  in  an 
entire  subjection  of  heart  to  its  sacred  dictates,  which  is  the  sum 
of  religion;  but  shall  immediately  proceed  to  the  main  object  of 
this  discourse,  and  that  is  to  shew  you,  that  this  wisdom  is  from 
above.     And  here  I  shall, 

I.  Inquire  in  what  sense  the  wisdom  of  which  the  text  speaks 
is^om  above,  which  will  give  me  an  opportunity  to  illustrate 
this  point,  of  its  divine  origin  in  the  heart  of  man  ;  and  then, 

II.  Endeavour,  by  some  plain  arguments,  to  prove  and  con- 
firm this  important  truth. 

I.  In  what  sense  is  this  wisdom  yy'owi  above?  And, 

1.  If  you  consider  it  in  reference  to  those  divine  truths  which 
are  the  main  objects  of  it,  it  is  from  above.  The  discoveries  of 
the  Bible  are  necessary  to  produce  that  temper  of  mind  towards 
God,  which  we  have  lately  been  describing,  and  these  disco- 
veries are  of  divine  original.  Tt  is  by  a  revelation  from  Hea- 
ven we  are  assured  of  forgiveness  and  eternal  life,  and  instruct- 
ed in  the  way  by  which  we  become  entitled  to  both  these  great 
blessings.  And  the  gospel,  considering  its  peculiarity  and  glory, 
loudly  speaks  for  itself,  that  it  is  not  of  human,  but  divine  con- 
trivance. What  man  could  have  ever  thought  of  the  Son  of 
God's  becoming  incarnate ;  and  of  sinners  being  justified  and 
saved  by  his  obedience  and  death  ?  The  scheme  must  have 
been  framed  originally  in  the  eternal  mind.  It  is  from  above, 
from  whence  the  Saviour  himself  came,  and  whither  he  is  now 
returned.  *  Without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery  of  god- 
liness :  God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit, 
seen  of  angels,  preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the 
world,  and  received  up  into  glory  a*  The  great  variety  also  of 
external  evidence,  both  prophetical  and  miraculous,  by  which 
the  Bible  is  supported,  sufficiently  proves  its  divinity.  So  with 
the  apostle  Peter  we  may  say,  '  We  have  not  followed  cunningly 
devised  fables,  when  we  made  known  unto  you  the  power  and 
coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  6.'  Religion,  therefore,  ob- 
jectively considered,  is  from  above. 

2.  It  is,  in  regard  of  its  tendency  and  effects,  spiritual  and 
divine;  and  in  this  sense  also^'om  above.  It  claims  the  supe- 
rior faculties  of  the  soul  for  the  proper  seat  of  its  residence,  and 

a  1  Tim.  iii,  16.  *  2  Pet.  i.  16. 


2S0  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

sways  its  sceptre  over  the  heart  and  conscience.  It  trans- 
forms the  minds  of  men  into  the  image  of  God,  and  makes  them 
partakers  of  the  divine  nature  a.  Its  effects  are  not  earthly, 
sensual  and  diabolical ;  but  pure,  spiritual  and  celestial.  It  re- 
fines the  understanding,  enlarges  the  soul,  elevates  the  heart  to 
God,  and  prepares  it  for  the  business  and  pleasures  of  a  better 
world.  It  dignifies  a  man  far  above  any  other  attainment,  and 
puts  him  in  possession  of  a  happiness  far  more  substantial  thao 
any  other  enjoyment  can  afford.  It  brings  heaven  in  a  degree 
tlown  into  the  soul,  and  in  a  sense  exalts  the  soul  to  heaven. 
In  short,  it  is  the  first  fruits  of  everlasting  life,  the  beginning  of 
future  glory,  and  the  early  dawn  of  that  one  long  and  bright 
day,  which  shall  gladden  the  fields  of  paradise  to  all  eternity. 
But  what  I  have  chiefly  in  view  is, 

3.  That  it  hath  its  oxi^m  from  above.  This  it  is  true  is  af- 
firmed of  all  the  common  blessings  of  life.  But  religion  being 
a  gift  in  its  own  nature  the  most  excellent  and  valuable,  and 
by  reason  of  the  depravity  of  mankind,  the  farthest  from  their 
inclination  and  pursuit ;  it  may  with  peculiar  propriety  be  said 
to  come  down  from  above.  It  is  the  offspring  of  divine  energy, 
the  fruit  of  the  ever  blessed  Spirit.  To  ascertain  indeed  with 
any  precision  the  manner  in  which  his  almighty  influence  is  ex- 
erted on  the  hearts  of  men,  is  perhaps  an  attempt  beyond  the 
reach  of  our  feeble  capacities.  Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at,  any 
more  than  that  we  cannot  comprehend  the  manner  in  which  the 
soul  operates  on  the  body.  But  why  should  the  difficulty  of 
clearly  explaining  it,  be  admitted  as  a  more  solid  objection 
against  the  fact  in  the  one  instance,  than  in  the  other?  It  is,  as 
we  shall  presently  see,  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible,  which,  wliile 
it  allows  the  divine  operations  to  be  very  inexplicable  to  our 
finite  understandings,  assures  us  that  every  good  man  is  born  of 
God  b. 

But  what  I  have  in  the  first  place  to  do,  is  to  give  a  plain  and 
familiar  account  of  the  process  of  this  good  work  on  the  heart, 
wherein  we  shall,  I  persuade  myself,  evidently  perceive  the 
traces  of  divine  power  and  goodness.  In  the  mean  time  there 
are  two  or  three  things  to  be  premised,  which  will  tend  to  clear 
the  grand  point  I  have  in  view.     And  the  first  is  this, 

a  2  Pet.  i.  4-.  b\  John  v.  J. 


OF  RELIGION.  2S1 

1.  That  religion  itself  is  the  most  reasonable  thing  in  the 
whole  world :  and  that  the  efficacy  of  divine  grace  in  communi- 
eating  it  to  the  heart,  doth  by  no  means  contradict  the  original 
principles  of  human  nature.  Their  account  of  it  is  both  unjust 
and  unscriptural,  who  affect  to  place  it  in  direct  opposition  to 
reason ;  and  think  they  never  do  it  so  much  honour,  as  when 
they  set  it  at  variance  with  nature.  Indeed  the  reason  of  man 
in  his  present  state  is  corrupted,  and  his  nature  depraved :  and 
therefore  the  false  principles  which  in  consequence  of  this  have 
taken  place  in  the  mind  and  heart,  must  be  opposed  and  over- 
come. But  does  it  thence  follow  that  religion  is  an  unreason- 
able thing,  or  that  God  deals  with  men  otherwise  than  as  rea- 
sonable creatures  ?  He  who  knows  what  the  fear  of  God  is,  sees 
the  highest  reason  in  it.  And  the  divina  influences,  however 
powerful  and  effectual  we  believe  them  to  be,  are  nevertheless 
adapted  to  our  original  frame,  as  composed  of  an  understanding, 
will  and  affections.  It  is  not  by  a  blind  impulse  that  men  are 
determined  to  that  which  is  good ;  but  by  the  full  conviction 
of  their  enlightened  judgment,  and  the  hearty  consent  of  their 
renewed  will.  So  that  suppose  the  sinner  as  ignorant  and  re- 
bellious against  God  as  you  will,  yet  when  a  change  is  wrought 
on  his  heart,  he  is  dealt  with  in  a  manner  perfectly  consistent 
with  his  character  and  denomination  as  a  man.  The  communi- 
cation of  divine  light  to  the  mind,  and  the  persuasion  of  the 
will,  are  indeed  the  work  of  God.  But  why  should  it  be 
thought  strange  that  he  should  instruct  and  persuade,  any  more 
than  that  men  should  be  allowed  to  instruct  and  persuade  ond 
another  ?  It  is  farther  to  be  observed, 

2.  As  this  wisdom  is  from  above,  so  we  become  possessed  of 
it  in  the  use  of  means  appointed  to  that  end.  Some  few  excep- 
tions there  may  be  to  this  general  rule.  But  for  the  most  part 
it  is  by  reading  or  hearing  the  word,  or  by  the  seasonable  inter- 
vention of  some  providence,  that  the  conscience  is  awakened, 
and  the  mind  engaged  to  the  contemplation  of  future  and  eternal 
things.  As  in  nature,  so  in  grace,  God  usually  works  by  means. 
Hence  he  has  instituted  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  and  has 
commanded  his  servants  to  compel  men  to  come  in  a,  to  call  them 
every  ivhere  to  repent  b,  to  persuade  them,  and  in  ChrisVs  stead 

a  Lukffxiv.  23.  b  Acts  xvii.  30. 


2S2  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

to  beseech  them  to  be  reconciled  unto  God  by  him  a.  And  it  ii 
easy  to  see  how  he  who  holds  the  reins  of  providence  in  his  hand, 
can  so  over-rule  the  particular  incidents  of"  a  man's  life,  as  to 
render  them  subservient  to  his  best  interests.  The  instructions 
of  pious  parents,  the  disappointments  of  life,  the  terrors  of  a  sick- 
bed, a  sermon,  yea,  a  seasonable  word  dropt  in  private  conver-  ^ 
sation,  may  doubtless,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  prove  the  in- 
struments of  conveying  infinite  good  to  the  immortal  mind. 
Nay,  so  plain  are  the  directions  which  Scripture  gives  even  to 
unregenerate  men  with  respect  to  reading,  meditation,  prayer 
and  an  attendance  on  public  worship,  that  in  an  ordinary  way 
there  is  little  room  to  expect  they  will  become  possessed  of  the 
groat  blessings  of  religion,  while  they  live  in  the  total  neglect  of 
them.     To  which  I  would  add, 

3.  That  religion  is  a  gradual  attainment,  or  in  other  words, 
that  the  knowledge,  experience  and  practice  of  it  will  admit  of 
continual  improvement.  It  must  be  acknow]ed^.^ed  indeed, 
that  no  one  can  be  a  good  and  bad  man  at  one  and  the  same 
time.  Yet  this  does  not  hinder,  but  there  may  be  many  serious 
thoughts,  many  deep  convictions,  and  many  hard  struggles  of 
the  mind,  previous  to  a  sinner's  conversion  to  God ;  and  that 
being  converted,  his  knowledge  may  be  very  imperfect,  his  faith 
very  weak,  and  his  hopes  and  joys  subject  to  much  fluctuation 
and  change.  And  such  a  view  of  the  beginning  and  progress 
of  religion  in  the  heart,  is  sufficiently  countenanced  by  the  word 
of  God ;  where  it  is  compared  to  a  birth,  to  the  sowing  of  seed 
in  the  ground,  and  to  the  instruction  and  discipline  of  a  school. 
So  we  read  of  '  being  born  again  6,'  of  '  Christ  being  formed 
in  us  c,'  of  '  the  bruised  reed  and  the  smoking  flax  </,'  of 
'  being  weak  in  the  faith  e,'  and  of  '  desiring  like  new  born 
babes  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,  that  we  may  grow  there- 
by yi'  All  which  expressions  may  serve  to  check  the  presump- 
tion of  those,  who  will  hardly  allow  that  there  is  any  real  religion 
in  that  heart,  which  possesses  not  an  assurance  of  faith  and  those 
ecstatic  visionary  kinds  of  joys,  which  they  pretend  themselves 
to  have  felt.     No.     Of  Abijah  it  is  said,   '  there  was  some  good 

a  2  Cor,  V.  11,  20.  b  John  iii.  3.  c  Gal.  iv.  19. 

d  Matt.  xii.  20.  e  Rom.  si  v.  1.  /I  Pet.  li.  2. 


OF  RELIGION*  2:23' 

thing  found  in  him  towards  the  God  of  Israel  a.  And  the 
apostle,  speaking  of  this  very  matter  with  respect  to  the  Philip- 
pians,  describes  it  as  'a  good  work  which  God  had  begun 
in  them/  and  which  remained  yet  to  be  performed  or  finished  6. 

These  things  premised,  I  proceed  now  to  describe  the  rise  and 
progress  of  religion  in  the  heart  of  a  sinner.  And  that  the  di- 
vine influence  may  the  more  remarkably  appear  therein,  we  will 
suppose  him  to  have  spent  the  earlier  part  of  life  in  a  course  of 
gaiety  and  vice,  to  the  utter  neglect  of  all  concern  about  his 
soul  and  a  future  state.  Whatever  advantages  of  education  or 
instruction  he  might  enjoy  above  others,  they  were  slighted  and 
abused  ;  and  whatever  checks  or  remonstrances  of  conscience  he 
might  sometimes  feel,  they  were  opposed  and  stifled.  But  now, 
by  some  affliction,  by  some  sermon,  by  some  seasonable  admo- 
nition, or  by  some  other  means  directed  by  Providence,  and  ac- 
companied with  a  divine  influence,  he  is  roused  from  his  deep 
sleep  of  sin,  and  alarmed  with  a  tremendous  apprehension  of 
approaching  danger.  Death,  judgment  and  eternity  are  per- 
haps the  objects  that  first  strike  him.  To  these  his  attention 
is  fixed  with  earnest  solicitude,  whilst  his  past  sins,  beheld  with 
a  confused  kind  of  dread,  threaten  the  speedy  execution  of  di- 
vine wrath. 

And  what  shall  he  in  these  circumstances  do  ? — The  uneasi- 
ness he  feels  puts  him,  it  may  be,  upon  seeking  relief  from 
worldly  amusements  and  pleasures.  To  them  he  flies — But  all 
in  vain.  Those  false  remedies  rather  exasperate  than  palliate 
the  disease.  His  fears  quickly  return,  heightened  and  aggra- 
vated by  a  clearer  view  and  more  pungent  sense  of  the  guilt  he 
has  contracted. — Still  eager  to  obtain  quiet  to  his  restless  mind, 
and  forced  from  this  vain  retreat  of  sensual  gratification,  he 
perhaps  resolves  on  reformation,  and  thinks  to  add  to  it  the 
merit  of  some  extraordinary  acts  of  austerity  and  devotion. 
What  he  thus  resolves  he  attempts — but  alas  !  he  fails  in  the 
attempt.  He  is  unequal  to  the  painful  labours  which  slavish 
fear  would  impose  ;  and  sad  disappointment  convinces  him  how 
deceitful  all  his  vows  were,  and  how  fruitless  all  his  best  en- 
deavours were  to  expiate  past  guilt. 

a  1  Kings  xiv.  13.  b  Phil.  i.  6. 


324  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN' 

Sin  now  appears  more  exceeding  sinful,  and  his  heart  far  more 
depraved  and  treacherous  than  he  ever  yet  apprehended  it.  And 
thus  wretched  and  helpless,  he  cries  out — "  What  must  I  do? 
Whither  shall  I  flee? — Am  I  undone — utterly  undone? — Is 
there  no  balm  in  Gilead — no  Physician  there  ? — Yes,  says  Mer- 
cy, there  is  ;"  whilst  with  one  hand  she  gently  holds  him  up 
from  despair,  and  with  the  other,  points  to  the  bleeding  sacrifice 

of  Jesus  the  Son  of  God. "  W^ell,   replies  he,  encouraged 

by  this  beam  of  hope  darted  on  his  heart,  Who  knows  hut  he 
may  turn  away  from  his  fierce  anger,  that  I  perish  not  ? — / 
will  arise,  and  go  to  my  Father,  and  loill  say  to  him — Father ^ 
I  have  sinned,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  he  called  thy  son. 
My  guilt  is  great  and  complicated,  and  shouldst  thou  frown  me 
from  thy  presence,  the  sentence  would  be  just. — But  still  suf- 
fer— O  suffer  a  helpless  sinner  to  pour  out  his  dying  groans  at 
thy  feet. — Thou  art  my  Judge,  O  put  strength  into  me. — Per- 
mit me  to  plead  mercy  while  I  lie  at  the  foot  of  mercy — at  the 
foot  of  a  throne  that  mercy  has  built,  and  thy  Son  has  sprinkled 
with  his  own  blood.  Will  not  he  become  an  intercessor  for 
sinners  who  died  for  them  ? — Nay,  will  not  thy  perfections 
themselves,  for  his  sake,  become  their  advocates  ?  Shall  omni- 
potence crush  a  worm  ?  Shall  justice  drag  a  sinner  from  the 
altar  on  which  the  Lamb  of  God  has  bled  and  died?  Will  not 
thy  name,  thy  great  name,  be  exalted  by  saving  the  most  un- 
worthy?— Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  my  unbelief. — On  thy 
word — thy  promise — thy  grace  I  lay  fast  hold. — Into  the  hands 
of  Christ  I  commit  my  guilty  soul. — To  the  infinite  merit  of 
his  obedience  and  death  alone  I  refer  myself. — And  wilt  thou 
reject  me  ? — O  no  !  Thine  arm  I  see  extended  to  save  me — 
compassion  is  in  thine  eyes,  and  pardon  in  thine  hands. — I  re- 
joice— O  the  riches  of  the  mercy  and  love  of  God  !  How  vile 
has  been  my  ingratitude,  to  sin  against  such  a  God  ! — Were 
my  head  waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,  I  would  weep 
day  and  night  for  mine  iniquities  ! — Henceforth,  sin,  I  wage  an 
eternal  war  with  thee.  Henceforth,  Lord,  I  yield,  my  heart, 
my  life,  my  all,  to  thy  government  and  service." 

Thus  we  see  how  religion  rises  into  existence  in  the  heart  of 
one  hitherto  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins.  And  this  imperfect  de- 
scription of  it  will,  I  persuade  myself,  be  found  to  agree  with 


OF  RELIGION.  225 

the  account  our  Saviour  gives  of  it  in  some  of  his  parables, 
compared  with  examples  recorded  both  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  And  though  the  circumstances  of  particular  cases 
may  differ,  yet  from  this  instance  we  may  collect  some  general 
idea  of  the  reasoning  of  every  truly  serious  and  humble  penitent. 
Nor  can  we,  I  think,  fail  of  seeing  the  hand  of  God  in  all  this. 
As  the  heart  is  naturally  inclined  to  the  love  of  the  world, 
and  indisposed  to  the  things  of  God,  so  it  is  thus,  by  some 
circumstance,  under  the  immediate  direction  of  Heaven,  that 
the  attention  is  first  fixed  to  tjbe  great  concerns  of  religion. 
The  mind  is  perhaps  gradually  enlightened,  and  the  passions 
variously  exercised.  But  the  issue,  whatever  struggles  may 
be  felt  within,  is  an  entire  acquiescence  in  that  method  of  salva- 
tion which  God  has  appointed,  and  a  cordial  approbation  of  the 
ways  of  wisdom,  as  most  fit  and  reasonable. 

Nor  is  it  for  us  to  say,  how  mild  or  how  severe  the  means 
may  be,  whereby  God  is  pleased  to  bring  men  into  a  saving  ac- 
quaintance with  himself — for  how  long  or  how  short  a  time  the 
mind  may  be  overspread  with  darkness,  doubt  and  fear — and 
how  clearly  distinguishable,  or  how  almost  imperceptible  the 
transition  may  be  from  a  perfect  indifference  about  religion,  to 
a  confirmed  approbation  and  love  of  it.  But  the  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  herein  is  surely  to  be  observed  and  acknowledged. 
It  is  this  that  fastens  the  word  upon  the  conscience,  this  that 
softens  the  heart,  this  that  bends  and  subdues  the  will,  and  this 
that  renews  and  sanctifies  the  affections. 

PART  11. 

We  proceed  now  to  the  principal  object  of  this  discourse, 
which  is, 

II.  By  some  plain  arguments  to  prove  and  confirm  this  im- 
portant truth,  That  religion  is  from  above,  or  that  it  is  the  fruit 
of  the  influence  and  operation  of  the  blessed  Spirit.  That  this 
is  the  case  seems, 

First,  Highly  probable  from  a  consideration  that  men  have 
it  not  7iaturaUy. 

By  religion,  I  mean  in  general  the  love  of  God,  or  a  prevail- 
ing disposition  of  the  heart  to  please,  obey  and  serve  him. 
And  by  men's  not  having  it  naturally,  I  mean  that  human  na- 

VOL.  I.  V 


226  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

ture  in  its  present  depraved  state  is  wholly  indisposed  to  it,  or 
in  other  words,  that  persons,  as  soon  as  they  become  capable  of 
reason  and  action,  instead  of  delighting  in  God,  preferring  his 
favour  above  all  things,  and  cordially  aiming  to  approve  them- 
selves to  him,  discover  a  dislike  of  his  pure  and  righteous  com- 
mands, and  an  obstinate  prejudice  and  enmity  against  them. 
Whence  the  consequence  is,  that  if  their  hearts  are  renewed 
and  changed,  it  must  be  by  a  power  superior  to  that  of  nature. 
Now  there  is  no  possible  way  of  evading  the  force  of  this  argu- 
ment, but  by  denying,  either  that  this  is  a  true  account  of  reli- 
gion, or  that  men  are  thus  naturally  indisposed  to  it,  or  that 
the  conclusion  hence  drawn  is  fair  and  just,  I  mean  the  neces- 
sity of  an  extraordinary  and  superior  influence  in  order  to  the 
conversion  of  a  sinner. — But  will  any  one, 

1.  In  the  first  place,  deny  that  religion  is  what  we  have  just 
now  described  it,  or  venture  to  affirm  that  it  consists  merely  in 
external  acts  of  sobriety,  justice  and  worship,  without  any  regard 
to  the  inward  principles,  aims  and  affections  of  the  heart  ?  If  he 
will,  he  is  surely  chargeable  with  offering  violence  as  well  to 
the  plain  dictates  of  reason,  as  to  the  express  declarations  of  the 
Bible.  The  great  object  of  religion  is  the  blessed  God.  If 
therefore  our  hearts  are  not  subjected  to  his  authority,  and  we 
are  not  influenced  by  an  affectionate  sense  of  his  love  and  good- 
ness, our  outward  actions,  however  virtuous  and  good  in  them- 
selves, can  with  no  propriety  be  denominated  religious.  And 
yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  we  do  find  men  sadly  prone  thus 
to  disguise,  mutilate  and  deprave  the  natural  and  proper  idea 
of  genuine  religion.  And  having  so  done,  it  is  not  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  they  know  how  to  compliment  a  much  larger  part 
of  mankind  with  this  venerable  character,  than  have  a  real  title 
to  it.  But  reason  itself,  if  duly  attended  to,  would  teach  men, 
that  the  most  splendid  external  appearances,  yea  actions  the 
roost  substantially  beneficial  to  society,  are  no  farther  ex- 
pressive of  a  worthy  character,  than  as  they  proceed  from  the 
temper  of  the  heart.     Let  us  then, 

2.  Inquire,  Whether  religion  thus  defined  is  connatural  to 
us  ?  Whether  we  brinfj  it  into  the  world  with  us  ?  Or  in  other 
words,  whether,  when  reason  tells  us  what  it  is,  there  are  strong 
propensities  in  our  breasts  to  it  ?  Are  we  prone,  as  soon  as  we 


OF  RELIGION.  227 

become  capable  of  knowing  that  there  is  a  God,  and  of  being 
taught  our  duty  to  him,  cheerfully  to  cultivate  such  knowledge, 
and  cordially  to  fall  in  with  such  instructions  ?  Is  there  the 
same  inclination  and  tractableness  in  the  minds  of  children  to 
these  matters,  as  to  the  gratification  of  the  appetites  and  affec- 
tions of  animal  nature  ? — jSurely  every  one's  reflection  and  ex- 
perience will  testify  the  contrary.  Nay,  I  may  venture  to  add, 
that  men  must  acknowledge,  if  they  have  not  strangely  forgot 
themselves,  that  in  the  early  part  of  life,  as  well  as  afterwards, 
their  hearts  Were  averse  to  serious  and  spiritual  religion,  and 
that  no  yoke  was  more  uneasy  and  galling  to  their  necks,  than 
the  restraints  of  education  and  conscience.  They  did  not  like 
to  retain  God  in  their  thoughts  a,  and  their  carnal  minds  were 
enmity  against  him  b.  These  are  facts  too  notorious  to  be  ab- 
solutely denied.  Yet  I  am  sensible,  wit  and  ingenuity,  un- 
happily prostituted  to  the  service  of  depraved  nature,  have  too 
often  found  means  so  to  palliate  and  disguise  these  matters,  as 
to  take  off  from  the  minds  of  men,  the  force  of  the  argument 
hence  drawn  in  favour  of  the  necessity  of  divine  influences. 

But  after  all  that  hath  been  said  of  the  flexibility  of  young 
minds,  and  of  their  being  easily  susceptible  of  religious  impres- 
sions; of  the  fear  of  sin,  yea  the  evident  marks  of  piety,  which 
some  in  their  early  days  have  discovered ;  and  of  the  pains 
which  many  others  have  been  obliged  to  take  with  themselves 
to  get  rid  of  conscience,  that  they  may  the  more  quietly  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  a  sinful  course  of  life  :  yet  these  things  do  by 
no  means  disprove  the  grand  point.  They  prove  indeed,  that 
there  are  degrees  of  depravity,  that  the  light  of  reason  and  con- 
science is  not  wholly  extinguished  in  our  nature,  and  that  edu- 
cation is  of  excellent  use  to  direct  and  improve  it.  But  no  in- 
ference can  thence  be  drawn,  that  the  mind  of  man  is  naturally 
free  from  an  evil  bias,  much  less  that  its  propensities  are  to  vir- 
tue and  religion.  For  if  it  were  so,  whence  is  it  that  there  is 
in  fact  so  little  religion,  yea,  so  little  morality  in  the  world,  as 
the  history  of  every  age  and  country  sufficiently  declares  ?  And 
allowing  evil  example  (of  the  very  existence  of  which  upon  this 
scheme  no  satisfactory  account  is  given),  I  say,  allowing  it  to 
have  all  the  energy  in  it  that  can  be  imagined ;  is  it  reasonable 
a  Rom.  i.  28.  b  Rom.  viii.  7. 

p2 


228  THE  DIVINE  Origin 

to  suppose  men  would  be  so  universally  subdued  thereby,  if 
their  minds  whilst  young,  were  in  a  neutral  state,  and  especially 
if  the  balance  of  their  inclinations  preponderated  on  the  side  of 
religion  ?  It  were  rather  in  this  case  to  be  wondered  at,  that  any 
one  should  yield  to  temptation ;  but  absolutely  unaccountable 
that  so  few  should  have  resolution  enough  to  withstand  it. 
It  is  plain  therefore  that  men  are  not  prone  to  religion,  or  ia 
other  words,  that  they  have  it  not  naturally. 

Is  it  not  then  highly  probable,  to  say  the  least,  that  they 
who  do  possess  it,  must  receive  it  from  above,  that  is,  by  virtue 
of  a  divine  energy,  or  an  influence  superior  to  the  utmost  force 
of  nature  ?  But  that  this  conclusion  may  be  more  than  probable, 
let  us  consider. 

Secondly,  That  all  human  means  for  bringing  men  expe- 
rimentally acquainted  with  real  religion,  are  of  themselves  in- 
effectual. 

A  proposition  this  which  I  shall  not  attempt  to  prove  ab- 
stractedly from  a  comparison  of  the  means  of  religion  with  the 
degenerate  state  of  the  mind  to  which  they  are  applied,  but 
from  the  consequent  fact.  If  it  shall  appear,  then,  that  far  the 
greater  part  of  those  who  enjoy  them,  are  wholly  uninfluenced 
by  them,  we  have  surely  a  farther  strong  presumptive  proof, 
that  some  power  need  be  added  to  these  means,  to  make  them 
efficacious.  Now  the  fact  is  not  to  be  disputed.  The  provi- 
dence of  God,  and  the  preaching  of  the  word,  yea,  men's  own 
reason  and  conscience,  do  all,  in  many  instances,  concur,  and  ope- 
rate powerfully,  to  urge  them  to  the  love  and  practice  of  reli- 
gion :  and  yet  they  continue  disobedient  to  it.  This  is  the  case 
of  thousands,  whilst  one  here  and  there,  of  less  discernment  it 
may  be,  and  who  enjoys  fewer  external  advantages,  becomes  a 
willing  convert  to  it. — Let  us  but  cast  our  eyes  around,  and 
see  how  the  matter  stands,  and  sure  I  am  this  argument  cannot 
but  have  its  weight.     Behold  then, 

1.  The  heathen  sage  instructing  his  disciples  into  the  obliga- 
tions of  religion  and  virtue.  That  they  ought  to  revere,  love, 
and  serve  their  Creator,  he  v/ith  good  reason  argues,  from  their 
having  received  their  existence,  and  all  their  powers  and  enjoy- 
ments at  his  bands,  from  the  fitness,  beauty  and  excellence  of 
virtue,  from  the  exalted  pleasure  which  the  cultivation  of  it  in- 


OF  RELIGION.  229 

spires,  from  the  many  temporal  advantages  which  attend  the  prac- 
tice of  it,  and  from  the  displeasure  of  the  Deity  against  vice 
land  irreligion.  And  if  any  object  the  inconveniences  and  re- 
proaches, which  a  severe  attachment  to  religion  may  possibly 
draw  on  them,  from  the  envy  and  malice  of  wicked  men,  he  re- 
minds them  of  the  satisfaction  of  conscious  innocency,  of  the 
high  rank  to  which  religion  will  exalt  them  above  the  grovelling 
multitude,  of  the  applause  of  the  wise  and  good,  and  the  dis- 
tinguished figure  they  will  make  in  the  annals  of  fame.  Thus, 
with  strength  of  reason,  and  with  some  elevation  of  passion, 
he  exhorts  men  to  be  pious  and  good. 

But  what  is  the  effect  of  all  this  florid  declamation  ?  Why, 
the  greater  part  of  his  audience  remain  as  totally  unmoved  as 
when  he  began.  And  as  to  those  few  who  do  become  converts  (if 
he  really  has  any),  to  what  are  they  converted  ?  to  the  love  of 
real  religion  ?  Ah,  no  !  but  rather,  as  the  consequence  too  sadly 
proves,  to  the  love  of  these  present  temporary  rewards  of  it. 
They  are  persuaded,  many  of  them  it  is  to  be  feared,  to  re- 
nounce the  abject  tyranny  of  animal  appetites,  that  they  may 
enjoy  the  more  refined  bliss,  which  results  from  the  gratification 
of  vanity,  ambition  and  pride.  And  so  all  the  boasted  fruit  of 
these  reasonings  is,  the  exchange  of  one  kind  of  servitude  for 
another,  perhaps  less  base,  but  in  its  effects  more  hurtful  and 
dangerous. — Such  are  the  triumphs  of  philosophy  !  "  But,"  say 
you,  "  his  want  of  success  is  to  be  imputed  to  the  poverty  of  his 
arguments,  and  to  the  want  of  that  authority  which  a  divine  re- 
velation, and  the  certain  assurance  of  a  future  state,  would  add 
to  his  reasonings."     Let  us  then, 

2.  Change  the  scene  from  the  schools  of  philosophy,  to  the 
assemblies  where  Christ  is  preached,  and  see  what  are  the  ar- 
guments here  used  to  win  men  to  the  love  and  practice  of  re- 
ligion. What  are  they  then  ?  the  most  exalted  and  animating 
that  can  be  imagined. — Arguments  suppHed  by  infinite  wisdom, 
founded  on  unquestionable  authority,  and  addressed  to  all  the 
feelings  of  the  human  heart.  With  artless  simplicity,  and  un- 
affected earnestness,  we  hear  the  minister  of  Jesus  telling  men 
the  miseries  to  which  sin  hath  exposed  them  in  this  wprld,  and 
in  that  which  is  to  come ;  laying  open  to  their  view  the  mercies 
©f  God ;  assuring  them  of  pardon  and  eternal  life,  through  faith 


238  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

in  the  mediation  of  his  Son ;  and  in  Christ's  stead  beseeching 
them  to  be  reconciled  to  God  by  him.  We  see  him  reasoning 
with  them  on  the  worth  of  the  soul,  the  vanity  of  the  world,  the 
deformity  of  sin,  the  beauties  of  holiness,  the  joys  of  faith,  the 
solemnity  of  death,  the  terrors  of  a  future  judgment,  the  bliss 
of  heaven,  and  the  torments  of  hell — explaining  these  high  and 
weighty  points — proving  their  truth — appealing  to  the  con- 
sciences of  men  for  their  importance — and  with  all  his  persua- 
sions mingling  the  most  compassionate  tears  and  prayers. — Now 
he  warns,  then  entreats — Now  he  alarms,  then  soothes — Now 
addresses  their  fears,  then  their  hopes — Now  brings  them  '  to 
the  mount  that  burned  with  fire,  to  blackness,  darkness  and  tem- 
pest, the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  the  voice  of  words ;'  then 
gently  leads  them  to  Mount  Sion,  whence  are  heard  the  softer 
and  more  endearing  expressions  of  mercy  and  love.  In  short, 
duty  and  interest,  with  all  the  energy  that  truth,  importance  and 
pity  can  inspire,  unite  to  enforce  his  reasonings. 

Yet,  is  the  effect  such  as  might  be  reasonably  expected,  or  as 
he  fondly  promises  himself?  Ah,  no.  One  here  and  there  only 
is  moved  by  his  reasonings,  and  sometimes  none  at  all.  So 
that  with  a  sad  and  heavy  heart  he  returns  to  his  Master  thus 
bitterly  lamenting  his  unsuccessfulness :  '  Lord,  who  hath  be- 
lieved my  report?  and  to  whom  is  thine  arm  revealed  a  ?'  '  I 
have  called,  but  they  have  refused,  I  have  stretched  out  my 
hand,  but  no  man  regarded :  they  have  set  at  nought  all  my 
counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof  6.' 

But  you  will  object  again — "  There  wants  the  concurrence 
of  some  external  circumstances  in  providence,  to  fix  men's  atten- 
tion to  these  reasonings,  and  to  impress  them  upon  their  hearts. 
The  reasoning  is  just  and  good,"  say  you,  "  and  well  able,  of 
itself,  to  persuade  the  will,  and  move  the  passions ;  but  men's 
outward  condition  being  easy  and  happy,  they  are  apt  to  grow  dull 
and  phlegmatic,  and  of  consequence  inattentive  to  these  matters. 
And  this  inattention  is  the  true  and  proper  cause  of  the  unsuc- 
cessfulness of  a  Christian  ministry."  Let  us  see  then  how  it  is 
with  the  generality  of  mankind. 

S.  When  roused  by  the  voice  of  providence  out  of  the  fas- 
cinating sleep  of  self-indulgence,  when  stimulated  to  serious 
a  Isa.  llii.  1.  h  Prov.  i.  24,  25. 


OF  RELIGION.  231 

consWeration  by  adversity  in  every  form  of  It,  and  when  ad- 
dressed in  this  state  by  the  kind  of  reasoning  just  described, 
disappointment  and  perplexity,  poverty  and  vi^ant,  sickness  and 
death,  stare  them  full  in  the  face ;  and  with  these  the  faithful 
and  affectionate  minister  joins  issue,  sounds  the  alarm  of  God's 
wrath  in  their  ears,  presses  upon  them  the  necessity  of  repent- 
ance, and  wishes  them  to  believe  in  Christ,  and  turn  with  their 
whole  hearts  unto  God. — What  is  the  effect  now?  Do  they 
give  proof  of"  a  change  from  the  love  of  sin  to  the  love  of  God 
and  religion,  and  that  they  find  themselves  easily  persuaded  to 
the  pursuit  of  holiness  and  goodness?  Alas  !  with  most  the  re- 
verse is  the  case.  They  are  roused.  In  their  surprise  they 
acknowledge  religion  to  be  true  and  important.  And  perhaps, 
in  the  warmth  of  their  passions,  resolve  they  will  give  heed  to  it. 
But  the  tempest  of  adversity  having  once  subsided,  and  the 
bright  scenes  of  prosperity  succeeded  to  it,  all  their  convictions, 
fears  and  resolutions  vanish  away.  Examples  of  this  sort  are 
innumerable.  It  is  a  striking  description  the  Scriptures  give  of 
such  characters,  when  they  tell  us  that  their  goodness  is  as  the 
morning  cloud,  and  the  early  dew  that  passeth  away  a.  And 
their  picture  we  have  drawn  to  the  life,  in  the  instances  of 
Herod  and  Felix,  and  of  the  Jews  who  attended  the  ministry  of 
John  the  Baptist,  and  of  our  Saviour  himself — But  we  will 
carry  the  matter  still  farther,  and  suppose  persons, 

4.  Not  only  startled,  but  convinced  by  the  preaching  of  the 
word,  thus  enforced  with  the  awakening  calls  of  Providence — 
convinced,  I  say,  fully  and  clearly  in  their  judgments  and  con- 
sciences, that  religion  is  as  important  as  it  is  true.  And  yet 
still  they  have  not  a  heart  for  it.  It  is  not  agreeable  to  them. 
It  is  not  what  they  can  delight  in.  Of  this  they  must  have  seen 
a  great  deal  who  are  used  to  converse  with  dying  beds.  What 
multitudes  of  people,  in  these  circumstances,  loudly  declare  their 
full  satisfaction  as  to  the  truth  of  these  things  !  But  ah  !  they 
have  no  tendency,  no  disposition  of  heart  to  them  !  They 
know,  they  acknowledge  they  cannot  be  happy  without  having 
their  nature  renewed ;  and  yet,  while  they  seem  to  wish  a  reno- 
vation, that  renovation  is  not  effected.  And  is  not  this  like- 
wise the  case  with  thousands  in  the  midst  of  health  and  strgngth, 

a  Hos.  vi.  4. 


232  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

■who  are  all  iheir  lives  halting  between  God  and  Belial?  They 
believe  what  you  say  to  them  upon  this  matter  to  be  true ;  nay 
they  will  go  perhaps  so  far  as  to  take  up  your  own  arguments, 
and  faintly  reason  with  themselves  upon  them ;  and  yet  they 
will  not,  they  cannot  (so  strangely  are  they  infatuated  by  their 
lusts  !)  yield. 

If,  then,  after  all  this,  the  tyranny  of  stubborn  lusts  is  broken, 
and  the  heart  becomes  free  to  the  service  of  God  and  religion, 
may  it  not,  ought  it  not,  must  it  not,  be  ascribed  to  the  effica- 
cious concurrence  of  a  divine  influence  with  the  appointed  means 
of  conversion  ?  And  to  this  I  persuade  myself, 

Thirdly,  The  doctrine  taught  in  the  Bible  agrees  ;  so  fully 
and  clearly  agrees,  that  we  may  put  the  issue  of  the  whole  mat- 
ter upon  the  plain  language  of  Scripture,  with  little  or  no  com- 
ment of  our  own. 

1.  How  then,  in  the  first  place,  do  the  inspired  writers  repre- 
sent the  depraved  state  of  human  nature  ?  They  tell  us  that 
men  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  a ,-  that  their  tinderstand- 
ing  is  darkened ,-  that  their  hearts  are  alienated  from  the  life  of 
God  b ;  that  they  are  foolish,  disobedient,  deceived,  serving  di- 
vers lusts  and  pleasures  c  ;  yea  that  their  carnal  7ninds  are  en-> 
mity  against  God,  not  subject  to  his  law,  nor  indeed  can  be  d. 
Strong  expressions  these  !  But  you  will  perhaps  say  that  they 
are  applicable  to  the  Gentile  world  only,  and  the  state  it  was 
then  in.  Let  the  apostle  reply :  '  What  then  ?  Are  we  Jews 
better  than  these  Gentiles  ?  No,  in  no  wise.  Both  Jews  and 
Gentiles  are  all  under  sin.  There  is  none  righteous,  no  not 
one ;  there  is  none  that  understands,  that  seeks  after  God  e.' 
And  if  such  be  the  condition  of  mankind  (as  we  have  indeed 
already  seen  it  is),  and  if  Scripture  thus  establishes  the  fact ;  is 
not  the  presumption  strong  in  favour  of  the  important  truth  for 
which  we  contend?  To  go  on, 

2.  Will  not  this  presumption  increase,  whilst  we  listen  to  the 
humble  and  undisguised  language  of  the  first  great  missionaries 
from  Heaven,  when  receiving  and  executing  their  instructions 
to  a  world  sunk  into  this  apostate  state :  whilst  we  listen,  I  say, 
to  their  acknowledgments  and  prayers  to  God,  and  to  the  pro- 

o  Eph.  ii.  1.  b  Chap.  iv.  18.  c  Tit.  iii.  3. 

d  Rom.  viii.  7.  e  Rom.  iii.  9—11. 


OF  RELIGION.  233 

mises,  hopes  and  encouragements  given  them  in  return  ?  Can 
we  hear  an  apostle,  sensible  of  the  infinite  difficulty  of  reducing 
men  to  obedience,  thus  expostulating,  JVho  is  sufficient  for  these 
things  a  ?  An  apostle,  grieved  on  some  occasions  for  the  umsuc- 
cessfulness  of  his  ministry,  thus  complaining.  Who  hath  believed 
our  report  b  ?  And  an  apostle,  I  will  add,  at  other  times,  thus 
triumphing  amidst  a  circle  of  numerous  converts,  '  The  weapons 
of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal,  hut  mighty,  through  God,  to  the 
pulling  down  of  strong  holds  c  ?'  Can  we  hear  them  all,  prophets 
and  apostles,  humbly  acknowledgi  ig  that  '  he  who  plauteth  is 
nothing,  and  he  who  watereth  is  nothing,  but  that  it  is  God  who 
gives  the  increase  c?;'  all  joining  in  one  prayer,  "  Reveal  O 
Lord,  thine  arm,  make  thy  mighty  power  known  !"  and,  in  a 
word,  their  Master  himself  assuring  them  that  he  will  shed  his 
Spirit  upon  them,  and  be  with  them  alway,  even  to  the  end  of 
the  world  e  ?  Can  we,  I  say,  hear  all  this,  without  believing, 
without  acknowledging,  without  entering  into  the  spirit  of  this 
divine  doctrine  ?  A  doctrine  which  animated  these  primitive 
champions  in  their  noble  contention  with  the  stubborn  lusts  of 
men,  and  gave  them  assured  hope  of  victory,  when  an  apostate 
world  had  triumphed  over  all  the  boasted  reasonings  of  philoso- 

3.  To  this  truth  we  find  also  the  converts  of  earlier  and  later 
times,  both  when  under  their  first  serious  impressions,  and  in 
the  course  of  their  experience  afterwards,  yielding  a  full  and 
ready  assent;  assenting  to  it,  not  as  a  speculative  point,  a  mere 
notion  systematically  taught  them,  and  into  which  they  were  in- 
itiated by  the  solemnity  of  abstracted  reasoning,  but  as  a  truth 
obvious  to  their  first  religious  perceptions  and  feelings ;  and  de- 
claring their  assent  to  it,  not  by  the  mediums  of  doctrinal  con- 
fessions only,  but  by  their  prayers  to  God,  the  most  natural  and 
genuine  way  of  expressing  the  practical  sentiments  of  the  mind 
about  matters  of  religion.  How  spontaneously  does  such  lan- 
guage as  this  flow  from  their  hearts  !  '  Turn  thou  me,  and  I 
shall  be  turned y.'  '  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  and  renew 
within  me  a  right  spirit  g'     '  Teach  me  to  do  thy  will :  thy  Spi- 

0  2  Cor.  ii.  16.  b  Rom.  x.  16.  c  2  Cor.  x.  4. 

d  1  Cor.  iii.  7.  e  Matt,  xxviii.  20.  /Jer.  xxxi.  18. 

a  Psal.  li.  10. 


234  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN 

rit  is  good,  lead  me  into  the  land  of  uprightness  a.'  *  Open  my 
eyes  that  I  may  behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law  6/ 
*  Direct  my  ways  to  keep  thy  statutes  c'  '  Incline  my  heart  to 
thy  testimonies  d.^  '  Quicken  me  according  to  thy  word  c' — 
But  the  most  direct  and  positive  proof, 

4.  Arises  from  the  account  which  Scripture  gives  of  the  work 
itself,  and  of  the  divine  energy  which  begets  and  produces  it  in 
the  heart.  The  Lord  thy  God,  says  Moses  to  the  Israelites, 
imll  circumcise  t/iine  heart  to  love  the  Lord  f.  Thy  people 
shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy  power,  says  David,  when 
describing  the  numerous  conversions  which  should  distin- 
guish the  times  of  the  Messiah  g.  He  shall  put  his  fear  in 
thee,  and  icrite  his  laiv  in  thine  heart,  say  the  prophets  h.  The 
new  birth  our  Saviour  himself  calls  it,  telling  us,  that  it  is  of 
the  Spirit  i,  and  assuring  us  that  no  man  ca7i  come  to  him^ 
that  is,  believe  in  him  to  the  great  purpose  of  his  salvation,  ex~ 
cept  the  Father  draw  him  k.  The  apostles  declare,  that  it  is 
God's  workmanship  I ;  that  he  who  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  crea- 
ture m  ;  that  the  neiv  man  is  created  ajler  God  in  righteousness 
and  true  holiness  n  ,-  that  it  is  God  who  quickens  and  makes  us 
alive  o ;  i\\at  faith  is  his  giftp  ,-  that  the  exceeding  greatness  of 
his  power  is  manifested  towards  them  that  believe,  according  to 
the  working  of  his  mighty  power,  which  he  wrought  in  Christ 
when  he  raised  him  from  the  deadq  ;  that  it  is  he  ivho  begins  a 
good  work  in  us,  and  performs  it  wito  the  day  of  Christ  r  ; 
opens  the  heart  to  attend  to  the  things  that  are  spoken  s,  works 
in  us  to  ivill  and  to  do  after  his  good  pleasure  t,  and  of  his  own 
will,  begets  us  with  the  word  of  truth  u,  which  comes  not  in 
word  only,  but  in  power  x  ,-  that  they  who  believe  in  Christ  are 
born,  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of 
man,  but  of  God  y ,-  and  in  fine,  that  we  are  saved  by  the  wash- 


a  Psal.  cxliii.  10.  b  Fsal.  cxix.  18.  f  Ver.  5. 

d  Ver.  36.  e  Ver.  25.  /  Deut.  xxx.  6, 

g  Psal.  ex.  3.  h  Jer.  xxxii.  40.  xxxi.  33.      i  John  iii.  3,  6. 

k  John  vi.  44.  /  Eph.  ii.  10.  m  2  Cor.  v.  17. 

n  Eph.  iv.  24.  o  Eph.  ii.  4,  5.  ;>  Eph.  ii.  8. 

q  Eph.  i.  19,  20.  r  Phil.  i.  6.  *  Acts  xvi.  14. 

I  Phil.  ii.  13.  u  James  i.  18.  x  1  Tbess.  i.  5. 


y  John  i.  13. 


or  RELIGION.  235 

ing  of  regeneration  and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  a.    Such 
is  the  language  of  Scripture. 

Since  then  it  is  so — That  men  have  not  this  wisdom  of  wliich 
our  text  speaks  naturally — That  all  human  means  to  possess 
them  of  it  are  of  themselves  ineffectual — And  that  the  Bible 
thus  fully  and  strongly  asserts  the  mighty  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  the  communication  of  it ;  it  cannot,  I  think,  with 
reason  be  questioned,  that  it  is  from  above.  Upon  the  whole; 
this, 

1.  Is  a  farther  argument  of  the  excellency  of  true  religion. 
The  value  of  a  gift  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  its  intrinsic  worth 
onl]',  or  by  its  utility  to  him  who  possesses  it,  but  by  the  dignity 
and  munificence  also  of  the  hand  that  bestows  it.  This  consi- 
deration indeed  adds  a  sweetness  to  all  the  outward  comforts 
and  enjoyments  of  life :  for  they  are  aii  the  unmerited  gifts  of 
Heaven.  And  he  who  hath  the  quickest  eye  to  discern  a  pro- 
vidence in  the  temporal  good  he  possesses,  knows  best  how  to 
value  and  how  to  improve  it.  But  a  divine  influence  is  more 
clearly  observable  in  the  communication  of  spiritual  blessings. 
These  are  the  gifts  of  his  right  hand,  those  of  his  left.  These 
streams  flow  to  us  in  a  more  direct  channel  than  the  other. 
And  religion  leads  the  happy  man  who  enjoys  it,  by  an  easier 
and  quicker  ascent  to  God  than  mere  nature.  If  the  good  Spi- 
rit of  God  then  designs  to  pour  this  blessing  into  the  heart,  the 
consideration  of  his  agency  should  surely  brighten  and  exalt  our 
ideas  of  its  excellence,  utility  and  importance. 

2.  Do  we  possess  this  most  invaluable  blessing  ?  The  inquiry 
is  of  the  greatest  consequence.  It  matters  little  whether  we 
are  great,  or  rich,  or  honourable,  as  to  this  world,  if  we  are  des- 
titute of  the  fear  of  God.  But  this  is  the  one  thing  needful  b  : 
that  without  which  we  must  be  miserable.  What  will  it  profit 
a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  c  ? 
And  this  is  that  great  blessing  which  dignifies,  enriches,  and 
makes  happy  all  those  who  enjoy  it.  It  is  a  good  portion  far 
better  than  any  earthly  possession  :  and  it  shall  never  be  taken 
awayd.  Let  us  therefore  be  serious  and  faithful  in  the  exami- 
nation of  our  hearts  upon  thi^  great  point.  And  if  it  shall  ap- 
pear that  we  are  endued  with  this  heavenly  wisdom,  let  us, 

«  Tit.  iii.  5.  h  Luke  x.  42.  c  Mark  viii.  3Q.  d  Luke  x.  4-2. 


236  THE  DIVINE  ORIGIN,  &C. 

3.  Give  him  the  praise  from  whom  we  received  it.  It  is 
from  above  ,-  thither  therefore  our  cheerful  and  gratefal  acknow- 
ledgments should  ascend.  Rivers  will  rise  to  the  height  whence 
they  flow :  so  minds  that  came  from  God  will  return  to  him — 
return  in  lively  expressions  of  joy  and  gratitude  for  his  free  and 
distinguishing  goodness.  It  is  not  your  temper,  Christians,  to 
sacrifice  to  your  own  net,  or  to  ofier  incense  to  your  own  drag  a. 
No.  While  you  trace  the  hand  of  God  in  his  dealings  with 
you,  admiration  and  wonder  fire  your  breasts,  praise  and  thanks- 
giving employ  your  tongues.  "  Who  is  it  that  hath  made  me  to 
differ  ?  What  have  I  that  is  good  which  /  did  not  receive  ?  By 
the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am."  Such  is  your  language. 
You  had  not  wherewith  to  purchase  this  blessing ;  you  could 
not  possess  yourselves  of  it.  O  then  never  think  you  can  praise 
God  enough,  for  bestowing  on  you  a  gift  so  inestimable,  and 
for  inclining  your  perverse  hearts  to  receive  it ;  for  opening 
your  eyes  to  see  your  need  of  it,  and  for  subduing  your  stubborn 
prejudices  which  would  have  prevented  your  accepting  it.  Praise 
surely  is  comely  for  the  righteous  !   In  one  word, 

4.  If  this  wisdom  is  from  above,  then  let  me  intreat  those  who 
arc  struck  with  its  excellence  and  importance,  and  are  convinced 
of  their  absolute  need  of  it,  to  look  for  it  from  thence,  and 
thence  alone.  A  due  conviction,  Sirs,  of  your  impotence  and 
weakness  will  not  induce  despondency,  nor  will  it  cut  the  sinews 
of  labour  and  industry.  On  the  contrary,  it  will  rather  awaken 
your  most  serious  regards  to  the  gracious  promise  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  excite  your  most  diligent  attention  to  the  means  of 
religion.  O  then  !  sensible  of  your  deep  poverty  and  misery, 
prostrate  yourselves  at  the  feet  of  the  blessed  God,  and  fear  not 
to  implore  this  inestimable  gift  at  his  hand,  since  he  delights  in 
nothing  so  much  as  gratifying  the  request  of  the  poor  and  needy. 
Nay,  you  may  consider  it  as  an  happy  omen  of  his  favour,  that 
your  hearts  are  disposed  to  seek  it.  Be  earnest  with  him  for 
the  blessing.     '  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you;   seek,  and  you 

shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you  bJ '  La-r 

hour  for  the  meat  which  endureth  unto  everlasting  life,  which 
the  Son  of  man  shall  give  unto  you  c' — '  Work  out  your  own 

ft  Hab.  i.  16.  .  h  Matt.  vii.  7. 

c  John  vi.  27. 


'    CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM,  Scc.  23*^ 

salvation  with  fear  and  trembling :  for  it  is  God  which  worketh 
in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure  «.' 


DISCOURSE  X. 


CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM  OF  RELIGION. 

Eph.  II.  10. Created  in  Christ  Jesus. 

W  HOEVER  gives  himself  leave  to  reflect  soberly  on  the  pre- 
sent state  of  mankind,  must,  I  think,  acknowledge  the  indispen- 
sable necessity  of  the  renovation  of  the  heart,  in  order  to  the 
enjoyment  of  God.  This  is  the  great  business  of  religion,  and 
how  it  is  effected  hath  been  at  large  shewn  in  the  preceding  dis- 
course. My  present  design  is  to  consider  more  particularly  than 
we  have  yet  done,  the  concern  which  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
hath  in  this  great  affair.      JVe  are  created  in  him. 

The  scope  of  the  apostle  in  this  chapter  is  to  shew  us,  that  our 
salvation,  by  which  he  here  means  that  part  of  it  chiefly  which 
respects  our  regeneration,  is  of  grace.  *  God  who  is  rich  in 
mercy,'  says  he,  '  for  the  great  love  wherewith  he  hath  loved 
Us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together 
with  Christ  b.'  And,  having  farther  expressly  declared,  that 
we  are  '  saved  by  grace  through  faith,'  he  adds,  '  and  that  not 
of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God ;  not  of  works,  lest  any  man 
should  boast ;  for  we  are  his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ 
Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained,  that 
we  should  walk  in  them.'  Regeneration  being  the  effect  of 
divine  energy  and  grace,  it  is  most  reasonable  that  God  should 
have  the  glory  of  it.  And  good  works  being  the  end  proposed 
by  our  regeneration,  it  is  highly  incongruous  to  consider  them 
as  the  cause  or  motive,  inducing  the  blessed  God  to  save  us ; 
for  if  this  were  the  case,  there  would  be  room  for  boasting, 
whereas  now  all  boasting  is  excluded. 

a  Phil.  ii.  12,  13.  6  Ver.  V3. 


238  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

In  the  text  then  we  have  rehgion  itself  described — it  is  a 
Building  and  a  Creation ;  and  the  interest  which  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  hath  therein — we  are  created  m  him. 

As  to  the  nature  of  internal  or  personal  religion,  that  not 
being  the  object  of  this  discourse,  it  may  suffice  to  observe,  that 
the  animated  description  here  given  of  it,  tends  to  confirm  what 
hath  been  already  said,  both  of  its  excellence  and  importance, 
and  of  the  divine  influence  exerted  in  its  production.  It  is  a 
building  framed  by  exquisite  skill,  and  reared  by  almighty 
power ;  and  when  the  top-stone  is  brought  forth,  the  happy  spirits 
above  will  shout  with  one  voice,  Grace,  Grace,  unto  it.  It  is 
also  a  creation — a  new  creation.  God  speaks  the  word,  and 
behold  light  and  order  spring  out  of  the  dark  and  unformed 
chaos  of  the  ignorant  and  depraved  heart.  iSo  that  of  every 
one  who  is  called  by  his  name  he  says,  '  I  have  created  him 
for  my  glory,  I  have  formed  him,  yea  I  have  made  him  a.' 

But  our  object  at  present  is  the  interest  vvhich  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  hath  in  this  great  affair.  We  are  created  in  him. 
To  much  the  same  purpose  the  apostle  speaks,  when  he  tells  us  of 
Christ  being  '  in  us  the  hope  of  glory  b  ;'  and  of  his  being 
'formed  in  use;'  and  of  the  new  man  being  'renewed  in 
knowledge,  after  the  image  of  him  that  created  him  t/.'  Now 
the  sense  is  plainly  this,  that  the  religion  of  the  heart,  with  all 
its  powers  and  pleasures,  some  way  or  other,  owes  its  original 
existence,  and  its  continued  support  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
In  regard  of  this  new  kingdom,  which  God  hath  set  up  in  the 
world,  and  in  the  hearts  of  men,  Christ  is  all  in  all  e. 

I.  This  divine  blessing  is  obtained  for  us  through  his  me- 
diation. 

II.  It  is  communicated  to  us  by  the  influence  of  his  Spirit. 

III.  It  is  produced,  nourished,  and  improved,  by  the  faith  of 
his  gospel.     And, 

IV.  It  is  in  its  own  nature,  the  impress  of  his  image  on  our 
hearts  and  lives. 

I.  Religion  is  the  fruit  of  the  mediation  of  Christ. 
Communion  with  God  is  the  ground  or  foundation  of  religion. 
To  this  high  privilege  therefore,  our  first  parents  were  admitted 

a  Isa.  xliii.  7.  h  Col.  i.  27.  c  Gal.  iv.  19. 

d  Col.  iii.  10.  c  Col.  iii.  11. 


OF  RELIGION.  239 

in  their  innocent  and  perfect  state ;  and  the  effect  appeared  m 
all  that  peace  and  happiness  they  enjoyed;  and  in  all  that  cheer- 
ful obedience  they  for  a  while  rendered  to  the  will  of  God. 
But  by  the  fidl  this  original  intercourse  with  Heaven  was  sus- 
pended. For  it  consisted  not  with  the  honour  of  the  holy  and 
blessed  God,  to  converse  with  apostate  men,  nor  were  they  in 
these  unhappy  circumstances  capable  of  conversing  with  God. 
So  was  religion,  that  noblest  guest  that  ever  visited  our  world, 
by  sin  most  sbamefuUy  driven  out  of  it.  Since  however,  it 
was  the  merciful  design  of  God,  to  dwell  again  with  men,  and 
to  diff'use  the  blessings  of  religion  among  them,  it  was  fit  some 
expedient  should  be  devised,  for  restoring  sinners  upon  honour- 
able terms  to  the  divine  favour,  for  securing  the  return  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  their  hearts,  and  for  rendering  them  capable  of 
those  divine  pleasures  which  had  been  totally  interdicted  and  with- 
held. This  expedient  was  the  mediation  of  Christ.  A  scheme 
wherein  the  perfections  of  God  are  most  illustriously  displayed, 
to  the  infinite  admiration  and  joy  both  of  angels  and  men. 

As  to  the  person  of  Christ,  scripture  gives  us  the  most  ex- 
alted descriptions  of  it,  such  as  demand  our  highest  homage  and 
most  profound  reverence.  He  is  the  only  begotten,  the  well-be- 
loved and  eternal  Son  of  God  a.  The  brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person  b.  He  in  whom 
dwdleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily  c.  The  true  God 
and  eternal  life  d.  God  over  all,  blessed  for  ever  e.  This  di- 
vine person  consents  to  become  a  man,  and  so  to  unite  humanity 
with  deity.  He  is  Emmanuel,  God  with  usf.  God  manifest 
in  the  flesh  g.  And  thus  in  the  character  of  Mediator,  he  as- 
sumes all  those  offices,  and  undertakes  all  those  arduous  ser- 
vices, which  were  necessary  to  bring  this  difference  between 
God  and  man,  in  the  consequences  of  which  both  heaven  and 
hell  were  concerned,  to  an  happy  and  honourable  issue. 

The  design  was  grand  and  noble.  Early  notices  were  given 
of  it.  A  series  of  the  most  august  and  striking  miracles  open- 
ed the  way  for  the  execution  of  it. — In  the  fulness  of  time,  be- 
hold !  he  appears,  not  in  the  grandeur  of  an  earthly  prince,  but 

a  1  John  iv.  9.— Matt.  iii.  17.— Mic.  v.  2.— Heb.  xiii.  8. 

b  Heb.  i.  3.  c  Col.  ii.  9.  d  I  John  v.  20. 

c  Rous.  ix.  5.  /  Matt.  i.  23.  s  1  Tim.  ii.  16.. 


240  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

in  the  humble  form  of  a  servant.  He  publishes  the  glad 
tidings  of  salvation  with  his  own  lips.  Authenticates  his  mis- 
sion with  a  kind  of  proof  suited  to  the  dignity  and  importance 
of  it.  Yields  a  cheerful  and  perfect  obedience  to  the  divine 
law.  Suffers  a  most  painful  and  ignominious  death.  Descends 
into  the  cold  and  silent  grave.  Triumphantly  rises  thence  on 
the  third  day.  And  in  that  very  nature,  wherein  he  had  thus 
bled  and  died,  ascends  through  the  clouds  into  heaven ;  where 
he  now  presides  over  the  kingdom  of  providence  and  grace,  and 
from  whence  he  will  quickly  return  to  judge  the  world. — 
What  an  astonishing  scene  this  !  especially  when  viewed  in 
connection  with  the  grand  design  proposed,  the  redemption  and 
salvation  of  his  church.  Sin,  the  greatest  of  all  evils,  is  expiat- 
ed. The  demands  of  the  law  are  fully  satisfied.  The  rights 
of  government,  which  ought  ever  to  be  held  sacred,  are  inviola- 
bly maintained.  An  equitable  constitution  is  established,  upon 
the  foundation  of  his  infinite  merit  alone,  for  the  justification 
and  acceptance  of  the  believing  sinner.  And,  in  a  word,  effec- 
tual provision  is  made  for  the  rich  effusion  of  all  the  great  bless- 
ings of  religion,  as  they  have  been  illustrated  and  explained. 

And  that  these  were  the  great  objects  of  his  mission,  scrip- 
ture clearly  teaches.  FIc  is  the  '  Mediator  between  God  and 
us  a ;'  '  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
world  b  ;'  '  no  man  can  come  unto  the  Father,  but  by  him  c ;'  he 
was  '  set  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  for  sin,  through  faith  in  his 
blood  rf;'  '  in  him  God  is  reconciling  the  world  to  himself,  not 
imputing  their  trespasses  to  them  e;'  'for  his  sake  he  forgives 
us  our  sinsy*;'  '  by  his  obedience  many  are  made  righteous^;' 
*  in  him  we  are  accepted  h  ;'  '  he  is  able  to  save  them  to  the 
uttermost,  who  come  unto  God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  them  i  ;'  and,  to  add  no  more,  '  by 
him  grace  reigns  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life  k'  So 
that  you  see  the  blessed  God  can  now  converse  with  men,  and 
men  may  be  permitted,  without  the  least  dishonour  reflected 
upon  the  divine  attributes  or  law,  to  converse  with  God. 

o  1  Tim.  ii.  5.  b  John  i.  29.  c  John  xiv.  6. 

d  Rom.  iii.  2.5.  e  2  Cot.  v.  lf>,  /  Eph.  iv.  32. 

g  Rom.  V.  19.  h  Eph.  i.  6.  i  Heb.  viJ.  25. 
It  Rom.  V,  21. 


OF  RELIGION.  S^l 

But  to  bring  the  matter  still  nearer  to  the  point  we  have  im- 
mediately in  view.  Scripture  represents  the  mediation  of  Christ, 
as  the  actual  and  proper  source  of  all  the  divine  knowledge,  hope 
and  joy,  and  of  all  the  real  virtue,  purity  and  religion,  which  is 
in  the  world.  He  is  said  to  be  entrusted  with  these  great  bless- 
ings, and  to  dispense  them  as  he  pleases.  He  hath  life  in  him- 
self, and  gives  it  to  whomsoever  he  wdl  a.  It  pleased  the  Fa- 
ther that  in  him  all  fabiess  should  dwell  h  :  and  of  his  fidness 
we  receive,  and  grace  for  grace  c.  In  him  are  hid  all  the  trea- 
sures of  icisdom  and  knowledge  d.  When  he  ascended  up  on 
highy  he  received  gifts  for  men,  yea  even  for  the  rebellious,  that 
the  Lord  their  God  might  dwell  among  litem  e.  And,  in  a  word, 
he  was  exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give  repentance 
unto  Israel,  and  forgiveness  of  sins  f 

Through  this  channel,  therefore,  we  may  be  sure,  they  who 
flourished  in  the  earliest  ages,  dark  as  their  notions  might  be  of 
the  Messiah,  derived  all  the  piety  they  possessed.  And  what- 
ever there  may  now  be  of  real  religion,  even  in  those  parts  of 
the  world  on  which  the  gospel  hath  shone  with  the  feeblest  rays, 
it  most  certainly  owes  its  existence  to  the  mediation  of  Christ, 
No  spiritual  blessing  is  there  dispensed  to  persons  of  any  age, 
country,  character  or  condition  among  men,  but  in  this  way. 
Christ  is  not  the  God  of  this  or  that  set  of  professing  Christians 
only,  nor  is  he  the  author  of  divine  benefits  to  us  alone,  under  the 
present  administration,  but  the  head  of  the  whole  church,  and 
the  Saviour  of  every  individual  member  of  it.  Plis  religion, 
therefore,  in  this  view  of  it,  is  not  topical  or  limited  to  any  par- 
ticular spot,  for  wherever  the  true  love  and  fear  of  God  is,  there 
is  a  pledge  and  fruit  of  his  mediation  and  grace ;  and  of  all  good 
men  it  may  be  affirmed,  though  their  means  of  knowledge  and 
experience  may  greatly  differ,  that  they  are  created  in  Christ 
Jesus.  Fie  is  the  author  and  the  finisher  o/"  their  faith.  Nor 
is  there  any  name  given  under  heaven,  by  v/hich  they  either 
actually  are  or  can  be  saved,  but  his.  In  short,  all  such  as  are 
the  workmanship  of  God,  in  this  sublime  and  spiritual  sense, 
are  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus 

a  John  V.  21,  26.— Matt.  xi.  27.        t  Col.  i.  19.  c  John  i.  16. 

d  Col.  ii.  2.  e  Psal.  Ixviii.  18.  /Acts  v.  31. 

VOL.  I.  Q 


242  CHUIST  THE  GRAND  SIEDIU51' 

Christ  himself  being  the  chief  corner  stone,  in  whom  all  the  build^ 
ing,  fitly  frajned  together,  groweth  unto  an  holy  temple  in  the 
Lord,  and  becometh  an  habitation  of  God  through  the  Spirit  a. 
He  tlien  is  at  the  head  of  this  new  creation,  of  which  indeed  at 
present  we  have  but  very  inadequate  conceptions.  He  reigns' 
sovereign  over  this  empire,  established  in  the  hearts  of  thousands, 
in  the  most  remote  ages  and  distant  parts  of  our  earth. 

And  now,  what  a  striking  and  exalted  idea  does  this  give  us 
of  the  dignity  and  importance  of  our  Saviour's  divine  and  me- 
diatorial character  I  And  with  what  sentiments  of  gratitude  and 
love  should  our  breasts  be  inspired,  amidst  these  reflections  on 
his  condescension  and  grace  !  Will  God  indeed  divell  with  men  ? 
not  only  send  down  his  Spirit  to  reside  in  their  hearts,  but  his 
own  Son  to  take  fiesh,  and  tabernacle  among  them  ?  How  as- 
tonishing the  thought — God  incarnate  ! — He  who  made  the 
world,  an  infant  of  days  ! — He  who  rules  the  universe,  walking 
about  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  habit  of  a  poor  despised 
man  ! — He  whom  angels  worship,  languishing  on  a  cross  !  We 
are  lost  in  wonder. 

Nor  are  these  facts  alone  the  ground  of  our  astonishment. 
The  ends  proposed  are  truly  great  and  noble,  and  the  contem- 
plation of  them  fires  our  breasts  with  admiration  and  joy.  What 
an  illustrious  display  have  we  here  of  all  the  divine  perfections, 
while  we,  at  the  same  time,  reap  the  richest  fruits  from  this  un- 
paralleled condescension  and  goodness  !  God  is  glorified,  and 
we  are  made  happy.  His  honour  and  our  interest  are  united  in 
the  man  Christ  Jesus.  Exult,  Christians,  with  joy  unspeakable, 
while  you  reflect  on  these  things.  Behold  the  great  Prophet 
of  the  church,  shedding  divine  light  upon  your  dark  and  igno- 
rant minds,  healing  your  mental  diseases,  and  pouring  life  and 
joy  into  your  dying  souls.  Behold  the  great  High-Priest  of 
your  profession,  offering  himself  a  sacrifice  to  divine  justice  for 
your  sins,  and  then  pleading  the  merit  of  his  death  for  your  par- 
don and  acceptance.  Behold  your  King,  swaying  his  sceptre 
over  universal  nature,  subduing  all  the  powers  of  darkness  by 
his  omnipotent  aim,  and  conquering  your  hearts  by  the  charms 
of  his  love  and  grace.  View  him  in  these,  in  all  the  characters 
he  sustains,  and  then  say  how  resplendently  the  divine  glories 
a  Eph.  ii.  20—22. 


OF  RELTGTON.  24S 

shine  in  the  face  of  Clirist,  and  what  infinite  obligations  you 
ovVe  to  his  mercy  and  goodness. — To  his  mediation  then  is  to  be 
ascribed  the  existence  of  rehgion,  and  all  the  blessings  which 
result  from  it ;  on  which  account  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  we 
are  created  in  him.     Again, 

II.  The  vital  powers  of  religion  are  communicated  to  the  soul 
by  the  influence  of  Ids  Spirit. 

The  agency  of  the  blessed  Spirit  in  regeneration  hath  been 
considered  at  large  in  the  preceding  discourse.  All  that  is  ne- 
cessary therefore  to  be  observed  here,  is,  that  the  descent,  inha- 
bitation and  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  the  happy  fruits  of 
the  mediation  of  Christ.  Hence  he  is  styled  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  a.  He  is  said  to  be  given  in  his  name  b.  And  our 
Lord  tells  his  disciples,  that  on  his  departure  he  would  send  him 
to  them  c.  And  the  apostle  declares,  that  he  is  shed  on  us  abun- 
dantly through  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour  d.  Since  therefore, 
that  divine  power  by  which  our  hearts  are  renewed  and  made 
meet  for  heaven  is  obtained  for  us  by  the  death  and  interces- 
sion of  Christ,  it  may  on  this  account,  with  good  reason  be  said, 
that  we  are  created  in  him.  But  the  consideration  on  which  I 
shall  chiefly  enlarge  is, 

III.  That  the  faith  of  Christ,  that  is,  of  his  doctrine  and  the 
revelation  made  in  the  Bible  concerning  him,  is  the  main  instru- 
ment by  which  religion  is  produced,  nourished,  and  improved 
in  the  heart.  /  live,  says  the  apostle,  yet  not  /,  but  Christ  liv- 
eth  in  me .-  and  the  life  ivhich  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by 
the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for 
me  e.  Now  it  will  be  necessary,  in  order  to  set  this  matter  in 
its  proper  light,  to  anatomize  the  heart  of  the  Christian,  and  so, 
by  laying  open  the  religious  affections  of  the  soul,  to  shew  how 
they  are  excited,  moved  and  influenced  by  the  faith  of  the  gos- 
pel.    To  begin  then. 

First,  With  Humiliation  for  sin. 

This  is  an  eminent  branch  of  piety.  There  can  be  no  inter- 
course between  us  and  an  offended  God,  without  a  deep  sense 
of  our  apostacy,  ingenuous  sorrow  for  our  transgressions,  a 
sincere  desire  of  reconciliation,  and  an  unfeigned  resolution  of 

a  Rom.  viii.  9 — 1  Pet.  i.  11.  b  .Tohn  xiv.  26. 

c  Chap.  xvi.  17.  d  Tit.  iii.  5,  6.  e  Gal.  ii.  20. 

82 


244  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

future  obedience.  But  the  instructions  and  motives  which  the 
liglit  of  nature  furnishes  to  these  ends  are  evidently  defective. 
We  may  indeed  from  tlience,  clearly  collect  in  the  general,  that 
we  are  guilty,  that  it  is  highly  fit  we  should  be  penitent,  that 
the  favour  of  God  is  most  desirable,  and  that,  since  he  does  not 
instantly  proceed  to  extremities,  he  may  possibly  have  thoughts 
of  mercy  concerning  us.  Yet,  the  mind  and  conscience  are  so 
darkened  and  depraved  by  sin,  that  we  do  not  fully  discern  the 
aggravations  of  our  guilt  and  misery;  and  the  ways  of  provi- 
dence are  so  perplexed  and  various,  that  we  cannot  thence  de- 
rive such  notices  of  his  mercy  as  arc  necessary  to  excite  filial 
grief  and  penitence.  Some  farther  discoveries  therefore  are 
requisite,  in  order  to  fix  a  deep  impression  on  our  hearts  of  our 
true  state  and  condition,  and  to  light  up  at  least  such  a  spark 
of  hope  there,  as  shall  at  once  shew  us  our  baseness,  and  cause 
us  to  relent  ingenuously  for  our  sins.  Nov/  these  discoveries 
the  gospel  affords,  and  in  a  perfection  that  is  truly  amazing. 

In  subserviency  to  this  great  design,  a  new  edition  of  the  law  is 
in  the  first  place  given  us;  the  publication  of  which,  on  account 
of  its  immediate  and  necessary  connection  with  the  gospel,  is  to  be 
considered  as  having  the  most  useful  and  salutary  tendency.  It 
is  given  that  the  offence  may  abound^  as  the  apostle  expresses  it, 
and  that  by  reviving  the  dictates  of  conscience  which  were  nearly 
obliterated,  we  may  see  our  need  of  all  that  grace  the  gospel 
reveals.  While  therefore  the  sinner  beholds  the  divine  law 
delivered  from  mount  Sinai,  amidst  the  terrors  of  blackness, 
darkness  and  tempest,  and  while  he  hears  its  spirituality,  extent 
and  authority,  explained  by  Christ  and  his  apostles,  he  trembles 
at  the  apprehension  of  his  guilt,  finding  it  to  be  far  more  hei- 
nous, complicated  and  malignant  than  he  before  imagined.  The 
voice  of  Moses  is  clearer,  and  sounds  louder  in  his  ears,  than 
that  of  conscience;  and  the  solemn  transactions  of  a  future 
judgment,  as  declared  in  the  New  Testament,  rouse  his  fears 
in  a  manner,  the  reasoninffs  of  natural  relimon  could  not  do. 
— "  Men,    brethren,    What   must    I    do? — Whither   shall    I 

flee? — How  shall   I  escape  the  wrath  that  is  to  come?" 

I'hus  reliffion  begins  in  conviction  of  sin,  which  conviction  is 
awakened  by  the  faith  of  God's  holy  law,  dispensed  with  all 
this  solemnity  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  seasonable  and  happy 


OF  RELIGION.  S45 

interposition  of  his  grace.     /  was  alive,  says  the  apostle,  with"' 
out  the  laiv  once  :  but  when  the  commandment  came,  sin  revived, 
and  I  died  a. 

And  now,  need  I  tell  you,  on  the  other  hand,  how  the  gos- 
pel itself  is  adapted  to  soften  the  heart,  thus  roused  and  alarm- 
ed, into  ingenuous  sorrow  and  contrition  for  sin  ?  Despair,  the 
natural  oflPspring  of  conviction,  while  it  terrifies,  hardens.  But 
hope,  that  hope  the  gospel  inspires,  cherishes  conviction,  and  im- 
proves it  into  repentance.  The  perfection  indeed  of  the  Sa- 
viour's obedience,  and  the  bitterness  of  his  sufferings,  confirm 
the  ideas  just  awakened  in  the  sinner's  breast,  of  the  guilt  and 
demerit  of  sin  :  but  then  the  ray  of  hope  thence  darted  on 
his  mind,  dispels  the  horrible  and  unavailing  gloom  of  despon- 
dency which  was  gathering  about  him,  and  excites  a  kind  of  abase- 
ment and  contrition  in  his  heart,  which  are  the  very  life  a)id 
sinews  of  religion,  the  grand  and  leading  principle  of  it.  While 
by  faith  he  beholds  the  Son  of  God  meekly  fulfilling  the  law 
he  had  broken,  and  patiently  suffering  death  to  expiate  his 
violations  of  it,  godly  sorrow  is  quickened  into  life,  and  diffuses 
a  warm  fflow  of  filial  grief  and  iniii;cnuous  sadness  through  his 
breast.  Surprised  with  the  infinite  mercy  and  grace  of  God  in 
pardoning  sins,  many  sins,  heinous  sins — in  pardoning  them  at 
the  expence  of  the  blood  of  his  own  Son,  blood  shed  in  the 
most  painful  and  ignominious  manner — and  in  following  the 
pardon  with  expressions  of  generosity  and  love  which  almost  ex- 
ceed belief;  surprised,  I  say,  with  all  this  compassion  and  good- 
ness, how  does  his  heart  relent  !  To  the  powerful  impressions 
of  all-conquering  grace  he  yields.  Before  the  God  he  had 
affronted  and  abused  he  bows.  And  smiting  upon  his  breast,  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  he  cries  out,  "  O  that  my  head  were 
waters,  and  mine  eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,  that  I  might  weep  day 
and  night  for  mine  iniquities  !  Ah  !  what  an  ungrateful,  base 
and  treacherous  wretch  have  I  been,  to  crucify  the  Lord  of  life 
and  glory,  and  to  put  him  to  open  shame  !  Never  did  I  behold 
sin  in  such  horrible  colours,  or  my  own  foolish  and  disingenuous 
heart  in  such  a  sad  point  of  view,  as  I  now  see  them.  While 
I  cast  mine  eye,  O  Jesus,  to  thy  cross,  and  remember  that  my 
sins  were  the  nails  that  fastened  thee  to  it,  and  the  spear  that 

A  Rom.  vii.  9. 


248  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM! 

drew  the  vital  blood  from  thy  heart,  I  mourn  and  am  in  bitter- 
ness as  for  an  only  son." 

Thus  is  the  faith  of  the  gospel  the  powerful  means  of  excit- 
ing repentance  for  sin.  And  it  is  by  a  growing  acquaintance 
with  the  great  mystery  of  redemption,  which  so  amazingly 
heightens  our  conceptions  of  the  divine  glories,  and  draws  such 
a  shade  over  the  pride  of  men,  that  all  those  amiable  affections 
comprehended  in  the  general  idea  of  humility,  are  cherished  and 
improved  in  the  heart.  He  who  enters  by  a  lively  faith  into 
the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  cannot  fail  of  being  converted  and  be- 
coming as  a  little  child,  of  thinking  soberly  of  himself,  yea  of 
abhorring  himself  and  repenting  in  dust  and  ashes.  For  to  be 
created  in  Christ  Jesus  is  to  be  thus  poor  in  spirit,  thus  meek 
and  lowly  in  heart. — Such  is  the  tendency  then  of  the  doctrine 
of  Christ  in  respect  of  that  humiliation  and  abasement  of  mind, 
which  is  one  eminent  branch  of  religion. 

PART  II. 

The  immediate  respect  which  religion  hath  to  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  is  the  subject  under  consideration.  We  are  created  in 
him.  It  owes  its  existence  to  his  mediation — It  is  communicated 
by  the  influence  of  his  Spirit — The  faith  of  his  gospel  is  the 
main  instrument  of  its  production  and  improvement — And  it  is 
the  lively  impress  of  his  image  and  likeness.  The  two  first 
have  been  considered,  and  we  have  entered  on  the  third,  which 
is  indeed  the  main  thing  to  be  insisted  on.  Now,  in  order  to  set 
the  influence  which  the  faith  of  the  gospel  has  upon  religion  in 
its  proper  light,  I  have  proposed  to  consider  it  in  reference  to 
the  several  religious  affections  of  the  heart.  We  have  begun 
with  humiliation  for  sin.     And  we  go  on  now, 

Secondly,  To  the  joys  of  religion. 

These,  as  I  have  had  occasion  to  shew  you  in  a  former  dis- 
course, spring  fi'om  the  pardon  of  sin — from  interest  in  the  pro- 
vidence and  grace  of  God — from  cpmmunion  with  Heaven  on 
special  occasions — and  from  a  cheerful  hope  of  eteynal  life. 
Now  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  we  shall  quickly  see,  hath  a  power- 
ful and  immediate  influence  on  each  of  these  particulars. 

J.  As  to  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  acceptance  with  God.  That 
xnan  is  truly  blessed  whose  sins  being  forgiven,  enjoys  a  peace- 


OF  RELIGION.  247 

fill  conscience,  and  a  heart  gladdened  with  the  divine  favour 
and  love.  But  what  is  it  that  possesses  him  of  these  invaluable 
blessings  ?  It  is  confidence  in  tlie  sacrifice,  righteousness  and 
mediation  of  Christ.  Him  hath  God  set  forth  to  be  a  propitia- 
tion for  sin,  tkroiighfaith  in  his  blood  a.  His  righteousness  is  to 
all,  and  upon  all  them  that  believe  b.  And  in  him  they  are  ac- 
cepted c.  Upon  these  sure  declarations  of  the  blessed  God 
himself,  the  humble  penitent  fastens,  takes  courage,  lifts  up  his 
drooping  head,  and  rejoices.  He  had  stood  trembling  at  the 
tribunal  of  conscience,  awfully  dreading  the  just  sentence  that 
hung  over  his  guilty  head.  But  with  what  nqVv  hopes  and  joys 
is  his  breast  inspired,  now  he  beholds  Jesus  the  righteous  advo- 
cate stepping  forth  to  plead  his  cause  ?  and  hears  him  saying  to 
his  desponding  heart,  as  Elihu  said  to  J,ob,  Behold  I  am  accor- 
ding to  thy  wish  in  God's  stead :  J  also  am  formed  out  of  the 
clay.  Behold  my  terror  shall  not  make  thee  afraid,  neither  shall 
my  hand  be  heavy  upon  thee  d.  "  Now  I  know,  says  he,  that 
God  is  just,  while  he  pardons  my  sins,  though  so  exceeding 
heinous  ;  that  he  is  righteous,  while  he  accepts  my  person, 
though  self-condemned;  and  that  he  is  holy,  while  he  receives 
me  into  his  favour,  though  most  vile  and  unworthy.  At  his 
altar  I  find  refuge,  for  justice  is  appeased  by  the  sacrifice  offered 
thereon.  At  the  throne  of  grace  I  bow,  for  it  is  sprinkled  with 
the  blood  of  Jesus.  Thither  I  can  now  boldly  come  to  ask  for 
mercy.  Mercy  I  ask — mercy  I  find — in  mercy  I  will  rejoice. 
O  God,  thou  art  my  God  through  Christ. — How  reviving  is  the 
thought  ! — Surely  thou  hast  put  more  gladtiess  into  my  heart 
than  they  enjoy,  whose  corn  and  wine  and  oil  are  increased  f" 

Thus  doth  faith  minister  joy  to  the  Christian,  in  regard  of 
these  interesting  points  of  forgiveness  and  acceptance  with  God. 
And  O  how  desirable  this  joy  !  Who  would  not  be  glad  to  hear 
a  voice  from  heaven  proclaiming  aloud.  That  God  is  pacified 
towards  him,  for  his  great  and  manifold  transgressions ;  that  he 
loves  him  with  a  tender  and  cordial  affection  ;  that  his  attributes 
are  all  become  friendly  to  him  ;  that  there  is  now  no  condemna- 
tion to  him ;  and  that  neither  death,  nor  hfe,  nor  angels,  nor 
any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  him  from  the  love 

a  Rom.  iii.  25.  b  Ver.  22. 

c  £ph.  i.  6.  d  Job  xxxiiL  6,  7. 


248  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

of  God  ?  Who,  I  say,  would  not  be  glad  to  hear  such  a  voice 
as  this  from  the  excellent  glory  ?  Well,  but  such  a  voice  as  this 
the  blood  of  Christ  speaks  to  every  penitent  and  broken-hearted 
sinner;  and  with  such  divine  evidence  and  authority,  that  it  is 
highly  criminal  to  question  the  truth  of  it.  Being  justified  by 
faith,  we  have  peace  with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  a. 
We  glory  in  God,  through  Christ,  hy  whom  lue  have  now  receiv- 
ed the  atonement  b.     In  like  manner, 

2.  As  to  the  influence  of  divine  providence  and  grace.  To 
have  satisfaction  that  provision  is  made  for  our  interests,  both 
temporal  and  spiritual,  all  our  way  through  life,  must  surely  be 
a  farther  occasion  of  great  cheerfulness  and  pleasure.  Many  a 
sad  and  gloomy  thought,  in  respect  of  these  matters,  hath  de- 
pressed the  hearts  of  even  good  men  themselves,  in  their  moments 
of  perplexity  and  unbelief.  But  how  amazingly  doth  the  doc- 
trine of  the  gospel,  apprehended  by  faith,  dispel  these  dark 
clouds,  and  pour  light  and  joy  into  the  afflicted  breast  !  It  re- 
veals the  blessed  Jesus,  arrayed  in  majesty  and  glory,  holding 
the  reins  of  providence  in  his  hand,  and  swaying  his  sceptre  over 
the  universe.  To  him  it  directs  the  eye  of  the  dejected  Chris- 
tian, telling  him  how  wisely,  equitably  and  well  the  great  Medi- 
ator adjusts  the  affairs  of  the  world  in  general,  and  the  concerns 
of  those  who  fear  him  in  particular ;  how  happily  he  disposes 
every  event,  whether  prosperous  or  adverse,  so  as  best  to  pro- 
mote the  real  good  of  his  faithful  people,  numbering  the  hairs 
of  their  head,  fixing  the  bounds  of  their  habitation,  defending 
their  persons,  assisting  their  labours,  guiding  their  feet,  and 
suffering  them  to  want  no  good  thing.  At  such  tidings  as  these, 
how  great  are  the  triumphs  of  faith  !  How  is  the  brow  of  ad- 
versity smoothed,  and  the  tears  of  humanity  dried  up  !  How 
are  curses  converted  into  blessings,  and  the  cup  of  affliction 
made  palatable,  if  not  pleasant  !  At  such  tidings  as  these,  what 
new  joys  are  infused  into  the  comforts  of  life,  and  how  is  their 
flavour  heightened  and  improved  !  "  The  Lord,  even  Jesus, 
reigneth,  let  the  Christian  rejoiceJ^ 

But  the  divine  life,  which  is  infinitely  more  important  than 
the  natural,  needs  likewise  something  daily  to  sustain  and  che- 
rish it,  to  improve  and  defend  it.     Such  provision  the  gospel 
o  Rom.  V.  1,  b  Ver.  11. 


OF  RELIGION.  2-19 

makes.  Substantial ^of/  it  furnishes  to  satisfy  the  Imngry  sotil, 
gold  tried  in  the  fire  to  enrich  it,  white  raiinent  to  adorn  it,  and 
everlasting  arms  to  support  and  protect  it.  The  person  of  Christ, 
his  atonement,  righteousness  and  intercession,  his  offices,  grace 
and  promises,  are  all  subjects  of  the  most  pleasing  contempla- 
tion, sources  of  the  most  divine  consolation.  Transcendently 
captivating  must  the  beauties  of  his  person  be,  who,  though  u 
man,  accounts  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  icith  God,  and  is  the 
brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of 
his  person.  In  him  are  hid  treasures  of  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge, of  grace  and  love ;  to  him  the  Christian  is  vinited  by 
an  indissoluble  bond;  and  from  his  fulness  he  recciveth  and 
grace  for  grace.  Great  therefore  must  be  the  bliss  which 
the  good  man  feels,  while  by  a  lively  faith  he  dwells  on  these 
sublime  truths.  How  does  the  sight  of  Christ  animate  him 
to  his  duty,  and  make  him  forget  the  pains  and  fatigues 
which  attend  it !  Like  the  men  of  Bethshemesh,  how  does  he 
shout  amidst  the  toils  and  labours  of  the  field,  at  the  approach 
of  the  ark,  the  symbol  of  the  divine  presence  and  glory  !  At  the 
view  of  him  whbm  his  soul  loveth,  how  are  his  broken  spirits 
revived  in  a  time  of  adversity  !  how  is  his  feeble  heart  sustain- 
ed in  the  hour  of  death  !  and  how  noble  a  superiority  does  he 
obtain  over  all  the  powers  of  darkness  !  "  Through  Christ  who 
strengtheneth  me,  with  triumph  he  cries,  /  can  do  all  things. 
His  grace  is  sufficient  for  vie.  I  will  glory,  yea,  /  will  take 
pleasure  in  infrmities,  that  his  poiver  may  rest  upon  me." 

3r  Communion  with  God  on  special  occasions,  is  likewise  an- 
other source  of  religious  joy.  To  contemplate  the  divine  per- 
fections displayed  in  his  works,  and  to  breathe  out  the  soul  to 
him  in  prayer  and  praise,  must  be  an  animating  and  improving 
exercise  to  a  renewed  mind.  But  how  is  this  to  be  even  at- 
tempted with  any  degree  of  pleasure,  if  no  regard  be  had  to 
Christ  ?  Can  a  creature,  conscious  to  itself  of  guilt  and  rebellion, 
■with  composure  approach  the  awful  presence  of  provoked  Omni- 
potence? Can  a  heart  defiled  with  sin  enjoy  itself  in  the  imme- 
diate view  of  spotless  holiness? — It  cannot.  So  averse  is  the 
sinner  to  communion  with  God,  that  he  instantly  shrinks  back 
at  the  very  idea  of  that  great  Being.  And  when  conscience. 
Heaven's  vicegerent,  forces  him  into  some  kind  of  intercourse 


250  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

with  Deity,  saying,  WJiere  art  thou  ?  with  consternation  he  re- 
plies, like  the  first  man,  /  heard  thy  voice,  and  was  afraid,  be- 
cause I  iras  naked,  and  I  hid  myself  a. 

But  how  is  the  scene  changed,  when  by  faith  he  apprehends 
the  blessed  Jesus,  in  the  character  of  Mediator,  standing  be- 
tween him,  a  guilty  polluted  criminal,  and  God  his  infinitely  just 
and  holy  Judge  !  The  conceptions  he  now  forms  of  the  supreme 
Majesty,  though  still  awful  and  tremendous,  are  softened  with 
a  pleasing  mixture  of  gentleness  and  love.  In  this  new  and 
living  way  he  can  have  access,  with  confidence,  to  the  object  he 
before  dreaded ;  and  can  enjoy  those  meditations  on  the  perfec- 
tions and  works  of  God,  which  were  before  painful  and  distress- 
ing. The  angel  of  the  covenant  having  laid  his  hand  upon  him, 
and  said,  '  O  man  greatly  beloved,  fear  not,  peace  be  unto  thee, 
be  strong,  yea,  be  strong;'  he  instantly  recovers  new  strength, 
and  replies  with  the  prophet,  '  Let  my  Lord  speak,  for  thou 
hast  strengthened  me  6.'  Emboldened  by  the  intercession  of 
this  able  and  righteous  advocate,  he  can  bow  before  the  Al- 
mighty with  holy  freedom ;  and  through  this  medium  discover 
new  glories  in  the  blessed  God,  such  as  far  surpass  all  those 
other  notices  of  him  which  nature  or  providence  furnish.  Now 
he  sees  '  mercy  and  truth  meeting  together,  righteousness  and 
peace  kissing  each  other  c'  And  how  does  he  exult  at  the 
pleasing  sight !  It  gives  new  energy  to  his  addresses,  puts  hira 
in  possession  of  the  blessings  he  seeks,  at  the  instant  he  is  ask- 
ing them,  and  unites  prayer  and  praise  in  one  breath.  And 
then,  once  more, 

4.  As  to  the  hope  of  heaven  ;  I  hardly  need  tell  you  it  is  by 
all  acknowledged  to  be  a  just  occasion  of  gladness  and  joy.  To 
be  persuaded  that  when  this  mortal  life  is  ended  I  shall  enter 
on  a  state  of  existence  the  most  happy,  and  which  shall  suffer 
no  change,  how  reviving,  how  transporting  the  thought !  But 
whence  can  we  collect  a  just  idea  of  that  state,  a  satisfactory 
proof  of  the  reality  of  it,  and  such  considerations  as  may  reason- 
ably encourage  our  hope  of  possessing  it,  except  from  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ  ?  A  general  hint  of  that  future  world  once  thrown 
out  may  indeed  set  imagination  at  work  ;  and  the  sallies  of  an 
active  and  sprightly  fancy  in  this  way  njay  entertain  and  please. 

a  Gen.  iii.  10.  b  Dan.  x.  18,  19.  c  Psal.  bcxxv.  10. 


or  RELIGION.  251 

But  imagination  and  fancy  are  very  insufficient  grounds  for  sub- 
stantial hope  and  joy.  This  however  is  not  the  case  here.  The 
eye  of  faith,  assisted  by  the  discoveries  which  Christ  hath  made, 
descries  the  good  land,  though  afar  off,  with  a  clearness  which 
sense  and  imagination  cannot  pretend  to ;  assures  us  of  the  re- 
ality of  it  upon  principles  which  nature  and  reason  can'not  of 
themselves  suggest ;  and  induces  a  hope  of  personal  interest  in 
it  which  is  as  rational  as  it  is  cheerful  and  animating.  And 
hence  Christ  is  emphatically  said  to  be  '  in  us  the  hope  of 
glory  a.' 

What  are  all  the  fond  conceits  of  heathen  poets,  when  men- 
tioned at  the  same  time  with  the  exalted  descriptions  of  heaven, 
drawn  by  the  pens  of  prophets  and  apostles?  What  the  puerile 
and  uncertain  reasonings  of  philosophers,  founded  at  best  on 
mere  probabilities,  when  compared  with  the  commanding  evi- 
dence resulting  from  the  resurrection  and  ascension  of  the  Son 
of  God  ?  And  what  the  flattering  expectation  which  compara- 
tive goodness,  and  a  general  persuasion  of  the  mercy  of  God 
inspire,  when  put  in  the  scale  with  the  hope  built  on  the  media- 
tion of  Christ,  and  the  express  promise  of  the  Bible,  and  which, 
at  the  same  time,  approves  itself  genuine,  by  its  suitable  influ- 
ence on  our  tempers  and  lives  ?  Such  a  hope  is  truly  noble  and 
divine,  and  when  in  lively  exercise  cannot  fail  of  reviving  the 
heart,  and  gladdening  the  countenance.  '  The  joys  of  faith,* 
as  the  apostle  somewhere  expresses  it,  have,  in  many  instances, 
balanced  the  most  grievous  sorrows  of  the  present  life,  and  en- 
abled him,  who  was  naturally  the  most  timorous,  to  rush  fearless 
into  the  arms  of  death.  And  though,  alas  !  through  various 
causes,  our  hopes  are  many  times  at  a  low  ebb,  yet  the  gospel 
hath  the  same  aspect  it  ever  had  on  our  future  interests,  and 
faith  the  same  power  to  brighten,  realize  and  appropriate  un- 
seen and  eternal  things. — Thus,  in  the  joys  of  religion,  you 
see  the  faith  of  Christ  hath  an  intimate  and  immediate  concern. 
And  the  like  concern  it  hath. 

Thirdly,  In  that  Purity  of  heart  which  is  the  very  essence 
of  religion. 

If  there  be  such  a  thing  as  religion,  it  must  consist  in  a  reve- 
rential fear,  and  sincere  love  of  God,  in  a  cordial  desire,  and  dili- 

a  Col.  i.  27. 


§52  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

gent  aim  and  endeavour  to  mortify  our  secret  corruptions,  in  a 
sovereign  contempt  of  this  world,  when  put  in  competition 
with  another,  and  in  fervent  aspirations  of  heart  after  likeness 
to  God,  and  the  everlasting  fruition  of  him  in  heaven.  Now 
the  f;iith  of  the  gospel  is  the  most  direct  and  effectual,  nay 
the  only  means,  with  a  divine  influence,  to  inspire  us  with 
this  divine  temper. — The  only  means,  I  say;  for  the  reason- 
ings of  natural  religion  are  too  fechle  to  compass  these  great 
objects :  as  he  surely  must  be  sensible,  who  is  at  all  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  mankind,  and  as  I  have  largely  shewn  in 
the  preceding  discourse.  How  slowly  hath  the  business  of  even 
external  reformation  advanced,  when  attempted  upon  princi- 
ples of  philosophy  and  speculation  only  !  Nay,  with  the  aid 
of  human  laws,  how  difficult  have  moralists  found  it  to  hold 
men  within  the  bounds  of  common  decency  !  Will,  then,  their 
reasonings,  will  their  persuasions,  forcible  and  eloquent  as  they 
may  be,  turn  the  tide  of  corrupt  nature,  root  up  inveterate  pas- 
sions, subdue  men's  inordinate  love  of  the  world,  and  raise  their 
hearts  to  God?  Ah  !  no.  It  were  an  idle  thing,  as  experience 
hath  shewn,  to  expect  it.  But  the  faith  of  the  gospel  chal- 
lenges all  these  difficulties.  It  may,  it  hath  subdued  kingdoms 
of  vice  and  sin  firmly  established  in  the  hearts  of  men  ;  wrought 
rip-hteousness,  in  opposition  to  all  the  effiDrts  of  Satan ;  stopped 
the  mouths  of  angry  passions  that  have  roared  like  lions ; 
quenched  the  violence  of  fierce  lusts  that  have  raged  like  fi^re  j 
and  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  hell  and  death. 

Here  I  might  shew  you  how  this  faith  operates  in  regard  of 
all  the  powers  of  sin  and  holiness,  and  how  the  considerations 
the  gospel  suggests  are  levelled  against  every  secret  corruption, 
and  adapted  to  excite,  strengthen,  and  promote  every  opposite 
grace.  But  it  were  endless  to  be  particular.  Nor  need  I,  since 
you  have  already  seen  the  influence  of  this  faith  to  produce 
godly  sorrow  for  sin.  In  general,  He  who  hath  this  hope  in 
him,  purijieth  himself  as  God  is  pure  a.  It  is  an  exalted  and 
pleasing  idea,  which  Christ  hath  given  us  of  the  blessed  God, 
and  of  the  duty  we  owe  him,  in  his  own  person  and  doctrine. 
In  him,  tlie  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  who  is  full  of  grace  and 
truth  b,  we  behold  the  glory  of  Gods  and  beholding  it  as  in  a 

a  1  John  iii.  3.  b  John  i.  11. 


OF  RELIGION.  253 

glass,  how  are  we  changed,  after  our  measure,  into  the  divine 
likeness,  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  a  !  How  does  the  indigna- 
tion he  hath  expressed  against  sin,  in  the  death  of  his  Son, 
vehemently  provoke  our  detestation  of  this  the  greatest  of  all 
evils  !  How  does  a  believing  reflection  on  the  sorrows  and  suf- 
ferings of  Christ  for  our  disingenuity  and  folly,  aid  us  in  our 
struggles  with  powerful  lusts  !  And  how  doth  the  mercy  and  love 
he  hath  herein  manifested  to  our  immortal  souls,  sweetly  con- 
strain us  to  the  love  of  holiness  !  We  fear  the  Lord  and  his 
goodness  b,  while  we  here  see  all  his  attributes  shining  in  their 
native  lustre,  and,  at  the  same  time,  harmonizing  in  our  favour. 
And  we  feel  ourselves  moved  by  the  gratitude  the  gospel  in- 
spires, to  the  practice  of  truth  and  justice,  of  meekness  and  pa- 
tience, of  purity  and  self-denial,  to  contempt  of  the  world,  and 
an  ardent  pursuit  of  divine  and  heavenly  objects.  The  grace  of 
God  ivhich  hath  appeared  unto  its,  teaches  us  to  deny  ungodliness 
and  icorldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  righteously  and  godly,  in 
this  present  evil  world  c.  And  the  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us,  to  live  not  unto  ourselves,  but  unto  him  who  died  for  us  d. 
Surely  he  who  by  faith  contemplates  the  scheme  of  redemption, 
who  realizes  it,  and  enters  into  the  spirit  of  it,  cannot  fail  of 
having  his  heart  by  these  means  refined  from  the  dregs  of  sin 
and  sense,  and  elevated  to  God.  /,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  says 
Christ,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me  e — draw  them  from  the  love 
of  sin  to  the  love  of  God. 

The  exalted  piety  and  devotion  of  the  apostles  and  primitive 
saints  are  truly  adm.irable.  But  how  did  they  attain  to  these 
noble  heights  ?  It  was  by  the  knowledge  and  faith  of  the  gos- 
pel. This  was  the  water  of  life,  which,  while  it  refreshed  their 
drooping  spirits,  c|uenched  their  eager  thirst  after  terrestrial  joys 
and  pleasures.  'Ihe  more  largely  they  drank  of  these  living 
streams,  the  more  pure  and  spiritual  were  their  hearts.  This  it 
was  that  crucified  them  to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  them. 
This  was  the  armour  in  which  they  clad  themselves,  for  all  their 
conflicts  with  sin  and  sense.  Strengthened  with  this  divine 
faith,  they  entered  the  lists  with  the  world,  and  obtained  a 
brave  superiority  over  its  flatteries  and  frowns.     They  knew  no 

a  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  b  Hos.  iii.  5.  c  Tit.  ii.  11,  12. 

d  2  Cor.  V.  14,  15.  c  J«ha  xii.  32. 


254  CIiniST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

reliffion  but  what  had  Christ  for  its  foundation,  and  what  owed 
its  existence  and  improvement  to  the  influence  of  his  Spirit. 
Christ  with  them  was  all  in  all.  It  was  therefore  through  him, 
through  his  doctrine  and  grace,  they  became  such  mirrors — 
such  examples  of  humility,  meekness,  fortitude,  and  every  other 
heavenly  virtue.  Through  those  exceeding  great  and  preciotis 
promises,  of  which  Christ  possessed  them  by  his  gospel,  they 
Were  made  partakers  of  the  divine  nature  a  ,-  they  cleansed 
themselves  from  all  filthiness  of  flesh  and  spirit,  perfecting  holi- 
ness in  the  fear  of  God  b  ,•  and  willingly  consecrated  their  hearts 
living  temples  to  the  worship  and  service  of  the  living  God. 

PART  III. 

We  have  seen  how  the  faith  of  the  gospel  tends  to  excite 
and  promote  in  the  heart,  repentance,  joy,  and  purity.  Let  us 
now  consider, 

Fourthly,  The  influence  it  hath  upon  that  divine  charity 
and  friendship,  which  are  on  all  hands  acknowledged  to  be  one 
eminent  branch  of  religion. 

Motives  no  doubt  there  are  innumerable,  without  recurring 
to  the  Christian  scheme,  which  may  with  advantage  be  urged 
to  persuade  us  to  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbour.  While 
reason  within  silently  teaches  us,  that  God  is  the  most  perfect 
of  all  beings,  and  while  the  works  of  creation  and  providence 
around  us,  loudly  proclaim  his  greatness  and  goodness,  evidence 
cannot  be  wanting  to  convict  that  man  of  miserable  disingenuity 
and  folly,  who  doth  not  admire,  adore,  and  love  his  Creator  and 
Preserver.  And  while  those  bands  of  nature  subsist,  which 
unite  men  in  one  body,  and  make  them  mutual  sharers  in  each 
other's  interests,  no  one  can  claim  an  exemption  from  obligations 
of  sympathy,  benevolence,  and  friendship.  Yet  forcible  as 
these  reasonings — these  feelings  may  be,  and  indeed  are,  how 
wretchedly  defective  are  the  generality  of  mankind  in  these  two 
great  points  of  duty  !  It  is  a  fact  to  be  credited,  not  on  the  au- 
thority of  scripture  only,  for  experience  and  observation  suf- 
ficiently attest  it,  that  *  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God,' 
and  that  the  greater  part  of  the  world  '  live  in  malice  and  envy, 
hateful  and  hating  one  another.'  Sad  reflection  this  ! — Charity 
a  2  Pet.  i.  -l.  6  2  Cor.  vii.  1. 


GF  RELIGION.  255 

nevertheless  there  is.  But  this  fair  and  pleasant  fruit,  if  ge- 
nuine, is  of  divine  growth.  It  is  the  offspring  of  faith.  It  is 
a  lesson  no  where  taught  with  such  clearness,  as  in  the  school 
of  Christ,  and  a  temper  no  where  imbibed  so  freely  and  largely, 
as  at  the  pure  fountain  of  his  doctrine. 

1.  As  to  God,  how  powerful  are  the  arguments  by  which  we 
are  here  allured  to  the  love  of  him  !  The  virtues  of  a  finite 
being,  though  shaded  with  many  imperfections,  command  the 
esteem  and  reverence  of  beholders,  even  of  those  who  are  not 
immediately  benefited  by  them.  But  what  are  all  the  charms 
of  the  fairest  character  on  earth  or  in  heaven,  when  compared 
with  those  of  the  blessed  God,  as  exhibited  to  our  view  in  the 
gospel  of  his  Son  !  His  excellencies  are  here  displayed  in  the 
most  inviting  light,  and  our  admiring  eyes  are  held  fast  to  this 
the  most  amiable  of  all  objects,  by  the  goodness  as  well  as  the 
beauty  that  thence  beams  on  us.  '  God  is  love,  and  he  that 
dwelleth  in  love,  dvvelleth  in  God,  and  God  in  him  «.'  Nature, 
whilst  she  pours  her  bounties  upon  us,  points  to  him  as  our 
Benefactor,  and  bids  us  adore  and  love  him.  But  how  much 
louder,  more  authoritative,  and  commanding,  is  the  voice  of 
faith  !  How  irresistibly  persuasive  ai'e  her  arguments,  whilst 
she  proclaims  in  our  ears  the  free  pardon  of  infinite  offences, 
and  the  sure  promise  of  everlasting  happiness,  telling  us  that 
these  are  blessings  obtained  for  us,  at  the  expence  of  the  tears 
and  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God  ? 

Love  begets  love,  and  the  effect  will  bear  some  resemblance 
to  the  cause.  But  what  expression  of  love  like  that  of  God's 
sending  his  own  Son  to  die  for  rebels  ?  Can  I  believe  this 
great  truth — can  I  enter  into  the  true  spirit  of  it — can  I  hope, 
or  even  only  imagine  myself  interested  in  it,  and  not  catch 
fire  at  the  thought  ?  '  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this,  that  a 
man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friend ;  but  God  commendeth  his 
love  towards  us,  in  that  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died 
for  us  b.'  O  the  height,  the  depth,  and  the  length  of  the  love 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  !  '  It  passeth  knowledge  c'  The  lively 
faith  of  this  amazing  expression  of  divine  mercy  and  grace, 
must  needs  kindle  in  the  heart  a  flame  of  gratitude  to  God. — 
Fall  down.  Christian,  at  the  feet  of  this  infinitely  glorious  Being. 

«  1  John  iv.  16.  b  Rom.  v,  8.  c  Eph,  iii.  19. 


256  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

Admire  and  adore  his  transcendent  excellencies.  Dwell  in 
your  contemplations  on  them,  till  you  are  dissolved  in  love,  and 
thereby  in  your  measure  assimilated  to  his  likeness,  who  is  the 
fountain  of  all  beauty,  perfection,  and  happiness.     And  then, 

2.  As  to  men  ;  no  arguments  surely  have  such  mighty  force 
in  them  to  persuade  us  to  mutual  love,  as  those  the  gospel  sug- 
gests. What  amazing  philanthropy  is  that  which  disposeth  the 
blessed  God  to  take  human  nature  into  union  with  deity ;  and 
inclines  his  own  Son  to  suffer  the  pains  of  death,  that  enemies 
may  become  sharers,  not  of  mercy  only,  but  bounty ;  not  of 
sympathy  only,  but  delight  and  love  !  This  great  truth  impress- 
ed on  the  heart,  must  needs  strengthen  the  natural  ties  of  hu- 
manity, and  bind  men  f;ister  to  one  another  in  love  and  friend- 
ship than  ever.  Is  must  needs  dilate  the  mind  of  man,  and 
make  it  capable  of  embracing  millions  of  immortal  beings  in  the 
arms  of  pure  benevolence.  It  must  needs  soften  the  rugged 
and  unyielding  affections  of  the  soul,  and  fill  the  breast  with 
sentiments  of  tenderness,  generosity  and  love.  '  Hereby  per- 
ceive we  the  love  of  God,  because  he  laid  down  his  life  for  us; 
and  we  ought  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  the  brethren  a.' 

How  can  wrath,  hatred  and  revenge  lift  up  their  heads  at  the 
foot  of  Jus  cross,  whose  blood  expiated  the  guilt  of  those  who 
cruelly  and  maliciously  shed  it  ?  How  can  he  obstinately  refuse 
to  forgive  another  a  few  injuries,  who  hath  himself  been  forgiven 
great  and  numerous  offences  ?  And  how  can  he  be  insensible  to 
the  sufferings  of  his  fellow- Christians,  who  by  faith  has  had 
fellowship  with  Christ  in  his  ? — Behold  the  Saviour,  Christian, 
who,  '  though  he  was  rich,  for  your  sake  became  poor,  that  you 
through  his  poverty  might  become  rich ;'  and  then  ask  yourself, 
Whether  you  can  shut  your  bowels  of  charity  against  the  dis- 
tressed ?  Stand  by  him  whilst  weeping  over  Jerusalem  ;  and  tell 
us,  Whether  you  can  refrain  mingling  your  tears  with  his,  for 
the  miseries  impenitent  sinners  are  bringing  upon  themselves? 
Be  a  witness  of  the  tender  scenes  which  passed  between  him 
and  his  disciples,  especially  at  the  close  of  his  life;  and  say. 
Whether  those  natural,  friendly  and  religious  affections  you  owe 
towards  those  around  you,  are  not  refined,  softened  and  improved 
by  these  views  ?  "  Sec  how  the  Christians  love  one  another," 

a  1  John  iii,  IG. 


OF  RELIGION.  SS? 

was  a  common  observation  in  primitive  times.  And  the  apostle 
John  hath  with  good  reason  made  this  a  mark  or  evidence  of 
the  new-  birth,  We  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto 
life,  because  we  love  the  brethren  -,  he  who  loveth  not  his  brother^ 
abideth  in  death  a. 

Thus  have  we  seen  how  religion,  in  all  these  various  expres- 
sions of  it,  is  produced,  nouristied  and  improved  by  the  faith  of 
the  gospel. — It  now  remains  to  be  considered,  as  a  farther  illus- 
tration of  the  regard  it  hath  to  Christ, 

IV.  That  religion  is  in  its  own  nature  an  imitation  of  his 
temper  and  example. 

The  regenerate  are  created  in  Christ,  that  is,  fashioned  after 
his  image  and  likeness.  To  him  they  bear  a  near  resemblance, 
as  children  do  to  their  parents ;  and  as  the  wax  does  to  the  seal 
whence  it  receives  the  impression.  To  which  purpose,  the 
apostle  tells  the  Romans,  that  God  had  predestinated  them  to 
be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son  b ,-  and  in  the  warmth  of 
his  affection,  assures  the  Galatian:>,  that  he  travailed  in  birth 
for  them,  till  Christ  was  formed  in  them  c.  As  in  the  first 
creation,  man  was  made  after  the  image  of  God,  so  in  the  se- 
cond, after  that  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  Wherefore  his  temper  and 
conduct,  when  here  on  earth,  may  be  considered  as  a  delineation 
of  religion  in  its  highest  perfection.  He  appeared,  it  is  true, 
in  our  world,  with  other  and  more  important  views  than  that  of 
becoming  our  example ;  yet  this  is  expressly  declared  to  be  one. 
He  hath  left  us  an  example  that  we  should  follow  his  steps  d. 

And  in  what  an  amiable  and  striking  light  doth  his  example 
appear,  as  it  is  drawn  out  to  our  view  by  the  evangelists  !  I  can- 
not now  enter  into  the  particulars  of  it,  or  I  might  tell  you  of 
the  truth,  sincerity  and  uprightness  of  his  heart ;  of  the  sweet- 
ness, tenderness  and  goodness  of  his  disposition;  of  his  humi- 
lity, meekness  and  patience ;  of  his  temperance,  self-denial  and 
fortitude ;  of  his  piety  towards  his  Father,  and  his  compassion 
to  men.  I  might  shew  you  with  what  heavenly  and  unremitting 
lustre  and  glory,  these  divine  graces  shone  out  in  the  whole  of 
his  deportment.     I  might  for  the  illustration  of  them,  refer  you 

a  I  John  iii.  H.  b  Rom.  viii.  29. 

c  Gal.  iv.  19.      r  d  1  Pet.  ii.  21. 

VOL.  I.  R 


258  CHRIST  THE  ghand  medium 

to  his  public  sermons,  Iiis  familiar  discourses,  his  private  devd- 
tions,  his  unwearied  labours  to  do  good ;  to  the  miracles  he  daily 
wrought,  and  the  various  and  unparalleled  sufferings  he  endured. 
I  might,  in  a  word,  call  upon  his  parents,  his  brethren,  his  dis- 
ciples, his  countrymen,  yea  his  enemies  themselves,  to  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  integrity  of  his  life,  the  purity  of  his  manners,  and 
the  transcendent  brightness  and  perfection  of  his  obedience. 

And  now,  what  is  the  religion  of  the  heart  and  the  genuine 
expressions  of  it  in  the  life  of  a  real  Christian,  but  a  copy,  a 
faint  copy  at  least,  after  this  bright  and  perfect  pattern  ?  It  is 
indeed  impossible  for  us  in  the  present  state  to  resemble  Christ 
exactly.  Yet  his  example  is  the  standard  to  which  we  should 
aim  to  arrive,  and  by  which  we  should  frequently  try  ourselves, 
in  order  to  come  at  a  due  knowledge  and  sense  of  our  defects 
and  imperfections.  And  it  is  our  singular  advantage  that  we 
have  such  a  fair  pattern  before  our  eyes  :  for  here  we  are  not 
only  instructed  in  the  perfect  will  of  God,  but  we  have  it  drawn 
out  to  our  view  in  living  characters,  and  are  urged  to  obedience 
by  motives  of  the  most  generous  and  animating  nature.  It  is 
the  example  of  him  who  lived  and  died  for  us ;  so  that  while  we 
are  bound  by  every  possible  consideration,  to  attempt  at  least 
the  imitation  of  it,  we  are  at  the  same  time  secured  by  the  grace 
of  the  gospel,  from  that  slavish  fear  and  dread,  with  which  the 
not  succeeding  to  that  perfection  we  wish  wduld  otherwise  in- 
spire us* 

And  may  I  not  affirm  that  there  have  been,  that  there  still 
arc,  some  happy  persons  v.'ho  are  thus  created  in  Christ  Jesus? 
Look  around  the  circle  of  your  acquaintance,  Sirs,  and  see  whe- 
thef  you  cannot  fix  your  eyes  upon  one  here  and  there,  in  whom 
is  the  same  mind  as  was  in  him  ?  who  is  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart,  cautious  and  circumspect  in  his  behaviour,  contented  and 
cheerful  in  the  station  Providence  hath  placed  him,  patient 
amidst  the  trials  and  sufferings  of  life,  lively  and  fervent  in  the 
discharge  of  religious  duties,  glad  of  every  opportunity  to  do 
good,  sensible  of  his  own  defects  and  imperfections,  apt  to  be- 
lieve others  better  than  himself,  and  cordially  disposed  to  give 
God  the  glory  of  his  salvation  ?  Amiable  character  this  !  And 
nov.-,  whose  image  doth  this  man  bear?  You  will  say,  it  is  the 
image  of  Christ;  and  he  will  gri^tefully  acknowledge,  that  it  is 


OF  RELIGION.  23& 

the  grace  of  Christ  which  hath  formed  him  into  this  temper. 
By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am  a. 

Thus  ha\'e  I  shewn  you,  that  the  rehgion  of  the  heart,  with 
all  the  powers  and  pleasures  of  it,  owes  its  existence  and  sup- 
port to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  a  blessing  obtained  for 
us  through  his  mediation — communicated  to  us  by  the  influence 
of  his  Spirit — produced,  nourished  and  improved  by  the  faith  of 
his  gospel — and  in  its  own  nature,  the  impress  of  his  image  on 
our  hearts  and  lives.     And  thus  are  we  created  in  Christ  Jesus. 

With  two  or  three  reflections  I  shall  close  this  subject. 

1.  From  what  hath  been  said,  we  see  the  insufficiency  of  na- 
tural religion ;  an  observation  which  hath  frequently  occurred 
in  the  course  of  this  sermon.  Alas  !  what  a  vain  empty  thing 
must  that  piety — that  devotion  be,  which  hath  no  regard  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  or  which,  if  it  doth  pay  some  general  regard 
to  him,  yet  considers  him  not  as  the  grand  medium  of  religion  ! 
If  it  be  true  that  he  rose  from  the  dead,  it  is  also  true  that  there 
is  no  coming  to  God  but  by  him.  He  hath  himself  said  so. 
And  methinks  a  sober  and  impartial  reflection  on  the  fallen  state 
of  mankind,  would  of  itself,  go  a  good  way  towards  convincing  men 
In  the  general,  that  something  farther  must  be  necessary  to  recover 
them  from  their  apostacy,  and  to  restore  them  to  the  likeness  of 
God,  besides  what  the  light  of  nature  is  capable  of  discovering. 
The  evidence,  however,  attending  the  mission  of  Christ,  is  so 
grand  and  striking,  and  the  explanation  which  the  apostles  give 
us  of  his  doctrine,  is  so  sublime  and  exalted,  that  he  who  be- 
lieves the  one,  and  hath  any  just  idea  of  the  other,  cannot  pos- 
sibly treat  revelation  with  indifference — with  indifference  I  say, 
as  if  it  contained  matters  which  we  might  have  remained  totally 
ignorant  of,  with  little  or  no  inconvenience  whatsoever.  The 
religion  of  the  Bible  is  an  animating  thing.  But  that  of  mere 
nature  is  attended  with  doubts  not  to  be  solved  by  reason,  and 
with  difficulties  not  to  be  surmounted  by  humanity.  If  ever 
therefore,  we  are  created  anew,  it  must  be  in  Christ  Jesus.  If 
ever  we  are  admitted  to  communion  with  God,  it  must  be 
through  his  mediation.  And  if  ever  we  possess  the  real  spirit 
of  vital  religion,  it  must  be  by  the  faith  of  his  doctrine  and 
grace.     To  Christ  therefore, 

a  1  Cor.  XV.  10. 

r2 


S60  CHRIST  THE  GRAND  MEDIUM 

.  2.  Let  our  eyes  and  hearts  be  constantly  directed,  in  all  the 
great  concerns  we  have  to  transact  with  Heaven.  Venture  not, 
sinner,  to  approach  God  in  any  other  way  than  by  the  sacri- 
fice, righteousness  and  intercession  of  his  Son.  Such  an  at- 
tenipt  will  be  deemed  the  height  of  ingratitude  and  presumption, 
it  will  aggravate  your  guilt,  and  will  he  sure  to  draw  upon  you 
the  divine  resentment.  If  you  tvill  think  of  appeasing  justice 
by  your  repentance,  or  of  meriting  the  favour  of  God  by  your 
future  obedience,  you  must  take  the  consequence  of  this  bold 
rejettion  of  Christ  and  his  grace.  '  Behold  all  ye  that  kindle 
a  fire,  that  compass  yourselves  about  with  sparks  ;  walk  in  the 
light  of  your  fire,  and  in  the  sparks  that  ye  have  kindled.  This 
shall  ye  have  of  mine  hand,'  saith  the  Lord,  '  ye  shall  lie  down 
in  sorrow  «.'  '  There  is  no  name  given  under  heaven,  by  which 
you  can  be  saved,  but  the  name  of  Christ  6.'  '  How'  then  '  will 
you  escape,  if  you  neglect  this  great  salvation  c  ?' 

And  there  being  such  a  medium  of  access  to  God,  how  great 
is  the  encouragement  which  from  hence  arises  to  him  who  is 
sensible  of  his  guilt  and  misery,  who  wishes  above  all  things  to 
be  reconciled  to  his  offended  Creator,  and  hungers  and  thirsts 
after  the  substantial  blessings  of  religion  !  Come  unto  me,  says 
the  Saviour  himself,  all  ye  that  labour,  and  are  heavy  ladeUy 
and  I  will  give  you  rest  d.  Why  should  you  then  yield  to 
despondency?  Why  should  you  perplex  yourselves  with  doubts 
and  fears?  God  is  infinitely  merciful,  and  he  is  just,  while  he 
is  the  justifier  of  him  who  believeth  in  Jesus.  Christ  is  able 
to  save  them  to  the  uttermost,  who  come  to  God  by  him  ;  and 
he  hath  declared  he  will  in  nowise  cast  them  out.  Fly  to  him 
by  faith.  Intrust  your  concerns  in  his  hands,  and  be  assured 
all  will  be  well. 

Nor  let  those  who  have  known  Christ,  and  believed  in  him, 
ever  lose  sight  of  him  in  the  exercises  of  their  hearts  about  di- 
vine things.  Fix  your  eye.  Christian,  upon  him  in  all  his  cha- 
racters and  offices,  as  your  prophet  to  instruct  you,  as  your  priest 
to  make  reconciliation  for  you,  and  as  your  King  to  rule  in  your 
heart,  and  to  subdue  your  enemies.  Look  steadily  to  him ;  and 
60  make  your  humble  approach  to  God  in  the  duties  of  religion  ; 

a  Isa.  1.  11.  b  Acts  iv.  12. 

c  II tb.  ii.  3.  d  Watt.  xi.  28. 


OF  RELIGION.  $61 

SO  arm  yourself  for  your  conflicts  with  sin,  Satan  and  the  world ; 
and  so  be  prepared  to  endure  the  troubles  of  life,  to  submit  to 
the  stroke  of  death,  and  to  appear  before  the  tribunal  oi  the 
great  God. 

3.  What  gi-atitude  and  cheerfulness  should  possess  our  hearts, 
while  we  thus  reflect  on  that  happy  and  glorious  medium  of  in- 
tercourse, which  the  blessed  God  hath  appointed  between  him 
and  us  ?  The  wisdom  of  this  constitution  is  not  fully  to  be  com- 
prehended by  us,  and  the  goodness  of  it  surpasses  all  imagina?- 
tion.  Yet  enough,  surely,  we  know,  both  of  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  it,  to  inspire  our  breasts  with  joy  and  gladness, 
with  admiration  and  praise.  May  the  contemplation  of  this 
amazing  scheme  of  salvation  be  our  frequent  and  noblest  enter- 
tainment, in  our  way  through  this  world  !  and  at  length  may 
we  arrive  at  that  happy  state,  where  we  shall  see  as  we  are  seen, 
and  know  as  we  are  known  !  Then  will  the  prayer,  which  the 
suffering  Jesus  addressed  to  his  Father,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh, 
be  fully  answered,  to  the  infinite  satisfaction  of  ail  his  faithful 
disciples,  Father,  I  will  that  they  whom  thou  hast  given  me  be 
with  me  where  I  am,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory  a.  But  I 
must  not  close  without  reminding  you, 

4.  And  lastly,  Of  the  strong  obligations  which  all  this  grace 
lays  upon  you.  Christians,  to  universal  obedience.  Ye  are  God's 
woi'kmanship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works,  which 
God  hath  before  07'dained,  that  you  should  laalk  in  them..  It  is 
fit  that  he  who  hath  reared  this  spiritual  building,  and  who  hath 
brought  this  new  creation  into  existence,  should  have  the  ho- 
nour, as  well  as  you  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  it.  And 
how  can  you  better  magnify  the  riches  of  his  grace,  than  by  de- 
meaning youi-selves  in  all  things,  as  becometh  Christians  !  Let 
your  light  then  so  shine  before  men,  that  others  seeing  your  good 
works  may  glorify  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  b. 

.     0  John  xvii.  24.  h  Matt.  v.  16. 


DISCOURSE  XI. 

THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION. 
2  Pet.  hi.  18. — But  grow  in  grace 

*'V  ITH  this  short  but  comprehensive  exhortation  the  apostle 
Peter  closes  his  second  and  last  epistle.  An  epistle  directed  to 
Christians  in  general,  whom  he  describes  as  having  obtained 
like  precious  faith  with  himself,  through  the  righteousness  of 
God,  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  wrote  not  long  be- 
fore his  decease ;  for  he  expressly  says  towards  the  beginning 
of  it,  that  he  should  shortly  put  offhh  tabernacle,  as  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  had  shewed  him  a.  So  that  if  age,  experience, 
and  the  solemnity  of  approaching  death,  may  be  supposed  to 
add  any  weight  to  the  advice  of  an  inspired  apostle;  the  words 
of  the  text,  which  stand  thus  at  the  close  of  the  epistle,  do  on 
these  accounts  claim  our  most  serious  and  affectionate  attention. 

With  great  earnestness  he  had  just  cautioned  us,  for  to  us 
he  addresses  himself  as  well  as  the  primitive  Christians,  against 
apostacy.  A  caution  peculiarly  seasonable,  as  it  had  been  the 
main  business  of  the  epistle  to  expose  the  impieties,  errors  and 
declensions  of  the  last  times,  and  to  represent  the  solemn  pro- 
cess of  the  last  judgment.  Seeing  therefore,  beloved,  ye  know 
these  things,  beware  lest  ye,  being  led  away  with  the  error  of 
the  wicked,  fall  from  your  own  stedfastness.  On  the  contrary, 
let  me  beseech  you  with  my  dying  breath,  and  the  rather  as 
it  will  be  the  most  effectual  security  against  apostacy,  to  make 
it  your  solicitous  concern  to  grow  in  grace. 

By  Grace  is  sometimes  meant  the  love  and  favour  of  God, 
sometimes  the  gospel  in  opposition  to  the  law,  and  sometimes 
the  inward  experience  of  religion.  In  this  last  sense  it  is  to  be 
understood  here.  So  that  to  grow  in  grace  is  to  improve  in 
the  divine  hfe,  or  in  those  dispositions,  affections  and  virtues 
which  constitute  a  real  Christian.     Now  that  there  are  degrees 

a  Chap.  i.  14. 


THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT,  &C.  263 

of  grace,  or  that  the  rcHgion  of  the  heart  is  capable  of  improve- 
ment, will  hardly  admit  of  a  question.  Grace  as  to  its  nature 
is  the  same  in  every  good  man,  but  as  to  its  degree  it  greatly 
differs.  Otherwise,  whence  the  descriptions  which  so  frequent- 
ly occur  in  Scripture,  of  sheep  and  lambs,  of  7iew  born  babes, 
children,  young  men  awA  fathers  in  Christ  ?  And  whence  is  it 
the  apostles  speak  in  their  epistles  of  feeding  some  with  milk 
and  others  with  meat  ?  Nay  this  is  evidently  supposed  in  all 
those  passages,  wherein  our  Saviour  is  represented  as  conde- 
scending to  the  weaknesses  of  his  people,  and  adapting  himself 
to  their  various  different  capacities.  The  sheep  he  leads,  and  the 
lambs  he  carries  in  his  bosom.  And  the  figure  alluded  to  in  our 
text  sufficiently  proves  and  illustrates  what  I  am  here  observing. 
Grow  in  grace. 

Grace  is  at  first  like  a  tender  plant,  which  makes  an  unpro- 
mising appearance,  and  is  in  danger  of  being  nipped  by  every 
sudden  blast :  yet  in  time  it  grows,  gathers  strength,  spreads  its 
leaves,  and  becomes  capable  of  enduring  the  sharpest  weather. 
It  is  like  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  which,  as  our  Saviour  says, 
speaking  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  is  indeed  the  least  of  all 
seeds,  but  ivhen  it  is  grown  is  the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  be- 
Cometh  a  tree,  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the 
briS^ches  thereof  a.  Steadiness  and  experience  are  the  perqui- 
sites of  age;  and  a  considerable  time  will  pass,  ere  the  princi- 
ples of  grace  take  deep  root  in  the  heart,  and  the  blossoms  of 
early  religion  ripen  into  fair  and  substantial  fruit.  Which  being 
the  case,  there  is  sufficient  ground  for  the  idea  suggested  in  our 
text.  And  however  growth  in  religion  is  to  be  ascribed  to  a  di- 
vine influence ;  yet  it  is  with  good  reason  made  a  subject  of  ex- 
hortation, since  that  influence  is  only  to  be  expected  in  the  use 
©f  means,  which  are  unquestionably  within  our  compass.  What 
I  propose  therefore  in  this  discourse  is, 

I.  To  recite  and  explain  some  of  the  principal  means  of  re- 
ligion : 

II.  To  lay  down  some  plain  rules  to  direct  us  in  our  use  of 
them ;  and, 

III.  To  attempt  by  proper  motives  to  excite  our  attention  t« 
theiH. 

«  Matt.  xiii.  31,  32. 


264  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

I.  As  to  the  means  of  religion.  There  are  some  of  a  more 
general  kind,  and  which  have  immediate  respect  to  our  daily 
temper  and  behaviour;  and  others  which  come  more  directly 
iinder  the  notion  of  religious  duties.  Of  the  former  kind  the 
first  I  shall  mention  is, 

1.  Watchfulness  against  all  occasions  of  sin.  This  indeed, 
to  speak  properly,  is  rather  a  means  to  prevent  the  decay  of  re- 
ligion, than  to  promote  its  growth  and  improvement.  Grace  and 
sin  are  in  direct  opposition  to  each  other.  And  could  we  sup- 
pose the  Christian  capable  of  wilfully  indulging  his  corruptions, 
such  indulgence  would  quickly  sap  the  foundation  of  all  good 
dispositions  and  affections,  and  endanger,  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
a  total  apostacy.  But  though  it  is  promised  sin  shall  not  have 
dominion  over  him,  yet  he  is  liable  to  be  surprised  into  sin.  And 
every  act  of  sin,  besides  the  pain  and  misery  it  occasions,  tends 
to  strengthen  the  principle  whence  it  proceeds,  and  of  conse- 
quence to  weaken  the  opposite  principle  of  grace  and  religion. 
AH  occasions  therefore  or  temptations  leading  to  this  great  evil 
should  be  carefully  guarded  against. 

Now  to  be  properly  apprised  of  these  is  one  great  and  emi- 
nent part  of  our  duty.  There  is  indeed  no  object  we  are  con- 
versant with  but  may  become  an  occasion  of  sin.  Which  makes 
it  necessary  that  we  keep  a  strict  watch  on  all  our  passions,  ap- 
petites and  senses.  But  there  are  certain  connections,  amuse- 
ments and  concerns  of  life,  which,  though  not  absolutely  unlaw- 
ful in  themselves,  may  prove  snares  to  us.  To  recite  them  par- 
ticularly would  be  endless,  because  they  are  almost  infinitely  di-. 
versified.  Be  they  however  what  they  may,  we  should  at  least 
give  ourselves  time  to  consider  of  them,  and  the  danger  to  which 
they  may  expose  us,  before  we  have  any  thing  to  do  with  them. 
And  unless  we  are  clearly  warranted  to  engage  in  them,  and 
have  sufficient  ground  to  believe  we  shall  be  superior  to  the 
temptation  of  them,  it  is  unquestionably  our  duty  to  stand  at  a 
distance  from  them.  Good  men  are  usually  in  greater  danger 
from  the  occasions  and  appearances  of  sin,  than  from  the  open 
attacks  of  sin  itself.  Direct  solicitations  to  criminal  actions 
they  will  peremptorily  withstand,  when  perhaps,  through  a 
presumption  of  their  own  strength,  and  a  vain  notion  of  not 
expressly  violating  any  known  law,   they  will  be  easily  in- 


IN  RELIGION.  265 

(luced  to  venture  on  what  hath  a  remote  tendency  to  such   ac- 
tions. 

Now  when  this  is  the  case,  when  one  who  calls  himself  our 
friend  presses  us  on  fair  pretences  to  associate  with  evil  company, 
to  divert  ourselves  with  idle  amusements,  to  which  we  have  no 
sufficient  call  either  by  reason  or  providence,  or  for  the  sake  of 
worldly  gain,  to  enter  into  this  or  the  other  connection  that  is 
forced  and  unnatural ;  if  we  were  to  make  a  bold  stand,  and  ab- 
solutely refuse  to  comply,  what  a  deal  of  mischief  might  we  not 
prevent — prevent  all  those  sad  languors  of  a  declining  constitu- 
tion, and  those  bitter  sorrows  and  reflections  of  heart  we  so  often 
feel  and  lament  !  Watchfulness  therefore,  constant  watchful- 
ness, is  indispensably  necessary  to  this  end.  '  My  son,  if  sin- 
ners entice  thee,  consent  thou  not  «,'  '  Let  him  who  thinketh 
he  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall  6.'  '  Watch  and  pray  that 
ye  enter  not  into  temptation  c' 

2.  Another  still  more  direct  means  of  improvement  in  religion 
is  Self-knowledge.  There  can  indeed  be  no  real  religion  with- 
out it.  The  right  exercise  of  every  Christian  temper,  whether 
towards  God,  ourselves,  or  one  another,  supposes  it  and  depends 
greatly  upon  it.  But  alas  !  this  of  all  sciences  is  the  most  dif- 
ficult to  be  attained.  And  it  having  been  in  a  degree  attained, 
at  our  first  becoming  Christians,  we  yet  for  the  most  part  make 
but  a  very  slow  progress  therein.  The  principal  reasons  of 
which  are  doubtless  these :  a  certain  consciousness  we  each  of 
us  have  that  we  are  not  what  we  ought  to  be,  which  makes  us 
averse  to  an  acquaintance  with  ourselves ;  and  a  continual  busy 
intimacy  with  sensible  objects,  which  diverts  our  attention  from 
reflection  and  self-examination. 

Now  there  are  two  rules,  which,  if  duly  attended  to,  would  be 
of  excellent  use  to  promote  self-knowledge.  The  one  is,  the 
inuring  ourselves  to  watch  the  motions  and  operations  of  bur 
hearts.  And  the  other  is,  the  making  it  our  business,  at  cer- 
tain periods,  to  lookjback  on  our  past  temper  and  conduct.  It 
is,  I  know,  extremely  difficult,  and  perhaps  absolutely  impossi- 
ble, for  a  man  on  every  occasion  to  possess  himself  of  his  own 
thoughts,  that  is,  to  reflect  minutely,  and  immediately,  on  trans- 
actions which  have  just  passed  in  his  breast.     So  various  arc 

ji  Prov.  i.  10,  6  1  Cor.  ix.  12.  c  Matt,  xxvi.  41. 


266  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

the  concerns  of  life,  and  so  quick  are  the  reasonings  of  the 
mind  upon  them,  that  were  we  every  ininute  to  make  a  pause, 
and  solemnly  call  up  to  our  view  what  had  at  that  instant 
escaped  us,  the  necessary  business  of  our  stations  would  be  con- 
siderably impeded,  if  not  wholly  obstructed.  Yet  there  is  such 
a  thing  as  a  man's  being  accustomed  to  keep  a  guard  upon  him- 
self, and  his  making  a  point  of  it  to  watch  the  temper  of  his 
heart  upon  critical  occasions.  By  critical  occasions,  I  mean 
those  wherein  our  integrity,  and  our  religious  regard  to  God 
and  our  duty,  are  put  to  any  remarkable  trial.  A  facility  in  this 
practice  is  what  some  Christians,  with  divine  assistance,  have 
acquired  in  a  very  happy  degree. 

The  advantages  which  result  from  hence  are  obvious  at  first 
view.  Were  we,  for  instance,  narrowly  to  observe  our  own 
reasonings,  when  solicited  to  a  matter  about  the  lawfulness  of 
which  we  were  doubtful,  or  carefully  to  eye  our  tempers,  when 
engaged  in  any  solemn  religious  duty,  we  could  hardly  fail 
reaping  some  considerable  addition  to  self-knowledge.  And 
though  such  strict  observation  of  ourselves  might  be  fruitful  of 
many  unpleasing  reflections,  yet  these  reflections  would  lay  an 
immediate  foundation  for  godly  sorrow,  which  is  one  eminent 
branch  of  religion,  and  would  teach  us  many  a  useful  lesson  for 
the  regulation  of  our  future  conduct.  Humility,  self-diffidence, 
the  need  we  stand  in  of  divine  grace,  and  our  obligations  to  ex- 
ercise candour,  charity  and  tenderness  towards  our  fellow-Chris^ 
tians,  are  instructions  which  would  infallibly  arise  out  of  the 
due  discharge  of  this  duty.  And  then,  on  the  other  hand, 
being  so  happy  as  to  discover,  in  the  main,  our  own  sincerity 
and  uprightness,  how  should  we  feel  that  rejoicing  of  which  the 
apostle  speaks  a,  springing  from  the  *  testimony  of  our  con- 
sciences, that  in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  we  have  had  our  conversation  in  the  world  !'  The  like  ad- 
vantages would  also  result  from  the  making  it  our  practice,  at 
certiiin  stated  seasons,  to  reflect  on  our  past  general  behaviour ; 
not  to  say  how  the  inuring  ourselves  to  these  e?:ercises  would, 
in  time,  contribute  greatly  to  the  rendering  them  easy,  and  in 
a  sort  habitual.  /  thougld  on  my  ways,  says  David,  and  turned 
my  feet  to  thy  testimonies  b.  And  his  complaint — IVJio  can  un- 
a  2  Cor.  i.  12.  .        b  Psal.  cxix.  55. 


I»  RELIGION.  267 

derstand  his  errors  a  ?  shews  as  well  his  solicitous  concern  to 
detect  them,  as  his  sense  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of  the  duty. 
— Self-knowledge,  then,  is  an  important  means  of  growth  in 
grace.     As  is  also, 

3.  A  diligent  observation  of  the  ways  of  providence.  There 
is  a  providence  that  governs  the  world  in  general:  and  however 
mysterious  some  of  its  proceedings  may  be,  yet  such  events  of  a 
public  kind  frequently  take  place,  as  clearly  demonstrate  the 
wisdom,  justice  and  goodness  of  him,  who  presides  over  the  uni-. 
verse,  and  doth  all  things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  own 
will.  The  divine  influence  in  these  events  is,  I  know,  little  re- 
garded by  the  generality  of  mankind,  and  so  they  lose  the  bene- 
fit of  such  reflections.  But  were  we  accustomed,  as  Christians, 
religiously  to  observe  that  influence,  many  striking  occasions 
would  offer  for  the  exercise  of  confidence  in  God,  reverence  of 
his  perfections,  and  submission  to  his  will.  And  how  mighti- 
ly all  this  would  contribute  to  growth  in  grace  I  need  not 
say. 

But  what  I  have  here  chiefly  in  view,  is  a  regard  to  Provi- 
dence in  our  own  personal  affairs.  We  believe  that  there 
is  not  a  hair  of  our  head  but  is  numbered,  and  that  not  a  spar- 
row falls  to  the  ground  without  the  knowledge  and  permission 
of  our  heavenly  Father.  Now,  if  in  every  occurrence,  especially 
those  of  a  remarkable  and  interesting  nature,  we  were  steadily 
to  eye  the  hand  of  God,  sure  I  am  the  eye  would  quickly  affect 
the  heart,  and  that  in  a  very  lively  and  sensible  manner.  Sup- 
pose, for  instance,  some  grievous  disappointment  to  happen  to 
us,  what,  in  this  case,  would  be  the  effect  ?  Why,  an  immediate 
fixed  persuasion  that  it  is  of  God,  would  put  us  directly  upon 
enquiring  into  the  causes  or  motives  of  his  conduct  towards  us. 
And,  having  discovered  something  amiss  in  our  temper  or  life, 
which  this  afiliction  was  designed  to  correct,  we  should  be  in- 
duced not  only  to  submit  patiently  to  the  affliction  itself,  but  to 
humble  ourselves  for  the  sin  that  had  occasioned  it,  and  hence- 
forth to  abstain  from  it.  Thus  curses  would  become  blessings, 
and  what  would  otherwise  be  poison  to  our  perverse  and  obsti- 
nate spirits,  would  prove  the  most  salutary  medicine  for  the  re- 
covery and  confirmation  of  our  health. 

a  Fsal.  xlx.  12.  ■» 


2G6  the  means  of  imphovement 

And  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  obvious  at  first  view  that  a  dili- 
gent and  accurate  observation  of  the  influence  of  providence  in 
our  successes,  would  greatly  tend  to  sweeten  the  enjoyments  of 
life,  and  at  the  same  time  prevent  the  undue  effects  of  pros- 
perity, by  raising  our  affections  to  God,  confirming  our  faith  in 
his  power  and  goodness,  and  disposing  us  to  gratitude  and 
obedience.  And  thus  would  the  habit  of  religion  in  the  heart 
be  mightily  strengthened,  cherished  and  improved.  The  utility 
of  this  practice,  David  sensibly  felt,  as  appears  from  innumer- 
able reflections  of  this  sort  which  occur  in  the  book  of  Psalms. 
And  it  was  doubtless  by  an  attention  to  these  rules,  that  the 
great  apostle  learned,  in  whatever  state  he  was,  how  to  demean 
himself.     I  will  add, 

4.  That  the  realizing  the  great  events  of  death  and  eternity , 
will  have  a  mighty  effect,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  to  promote 
the  life  and  spirit  of  religion.  Death  is  the  common  lot  of  all 
mankind.  We  have  none  of  us  the  shadow  of  a  reason  to  ex- 
pect an  exemption  from  it ;  nor  do  we  know  when  the  event 
will  take  place.  J3c  the  time  however  when  it  may,  we  arc  sure 
the  scene  will  be  most  solemn :  it  cannot  be  beheld  even  at  a 
distance  without  commanding  an  awe  upon  our  spirits.  Death 
is  the  dissolution  of  an  union,  the  most  dear  and  intimate  in  na- 
tui-e;  it  puts  an  end  to  all  our  present  connections  and  pursuits; 
leaves  the  body  in  a  state  of  inactivity  and  putrefaction;  and 
liurries  the  soul  into  a  world,  to  us  as  yet  unknown,  but  which 
\ve  are  certain  will,  at  that  important  instant,  pour  unutterable 
bliss  or  woe  upon  the  separate  spirit.  Amazing  change  !  To  the 
good  man  how  pleasing  ! — to  the  sinner  how  tremendous  ! — Nor 
shall  the  body  remain  for  ever  a  prisoner  of  the  grave,  '  A  day 
hath  God  appointed  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world :'  and  on 
that  day,  ushered  in  by  a  voice  louder  than  that  which  shook 
mount  Sinai,  death  and  hell  shall  deliver  up  their  dead,  the  scat- 
tered remains  of  millions  of  beings  shall  be  collected,  and  the 
immortal  spirit  again  possess  the  habitation  it  had  forsaken.  To 
the  astonished  sight  of  this  prodigious  multitude,  the  Son  of 
God  shall  instantly  appear  in  the  clouds  of  heaven,  with  a  splen- 
dour on  his  countenance  far  surpassing  that  of  the  sun,  and  at- 
tended with  myriads  of  angels  in  all  their  glory.  Before  his 
idread  tribunal  every  individual  shall  be  summoned ;  exact  scru- 


IN  RELIGION.  269 

tiny  shall  be  made  into  their  several  characters  and  actions; 
judgment  shall  be  immediately  given  :  and  so,  amidst  the  solem- 
nities of  an  expiring  world,  '  the  wicked  shall  go  away  into  ever- 
lasting punishment,  and  the  righteous  into  life  eternal  «.' 

Now  a  believing  contemplation  of  these  important  events  will 
have  a  direct  and  powerful  tendency  to  inspire  our  breasts  with 
a  dread  of  sin,  to  moderate  our  afi'ections  to  the  world,  to  make 
us  patient  of  affliction  and  suffering,  and  to  animate  us  to  the 
duties  of  our  several  stations.  How  can  religion  dwindle  into 
a  mere  form,  under  the  frequent  and  lively  impressions  of  such 
great  and  interesting  realities,  as  death,  judgment  and  eternity  ! 
Hence  it  is  these  considerations  are  with  such  earnestness  press- 
ed upon  us  in  Scripture.  '  Behold  I  come,'  says  Christ  him- 
self, '  as  a  thief.'  '  Blessed  is  he  who  watchcth,  and  keepeth 
his  garments,  lest  he  walk  naked,  and  they  see  his  shame  b.* 
*  And  what  I  say  unto  you,  I  say  unto  all,  Watch  c'  *  Be  ye 
also  ready,  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye  think  not,  the  Son  of  mau 
cometh  d.'  And,  '  seeing  ye  look  for  such  things,'  says  the 
apostle  Peter  in  this  context,  Avherein  he  had  been  describing 
the  solemn  transactions  of  the  last  day,  '  be  diligent  that  ye  be 
found  of  him  in  peace,  without  spot  and  blameless  e.' 

Such  then  are  some  of  those  means  of  a  more  general  kind, 
which,  if  duly  regarded,  will,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  contri- 
bute not  a  little  to  our  growth  in  grace.  To  which  1  would 
now  add,  the  more  particular  and  positive  duties  of  religion. 
And  of  these,  the  first  I  shall  recommend  is, 

1.  A  frequent  and  diligent  perusal  of  the  Bible. 

This  sacred  book  is  put  into  our  hands,  as  the  inspired  wri- 
ters of  it  assure  us,  for  our  '  reproof,  correction  and  instruction 
in  righteousness ;  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation ;  to  furnish  us 
thoroughly  unto  all  good  works y";'  and  '  to  build  us  up,  and 
give  us  an  inheritance  among  them  that  are  sanctified  g.'  Here 
we  are  led  into  the  knowledge  of  God,  ourselves  and  the  way  of 
salvation.  Flere  we  have  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light, 
and  the  realities  of  a  future  world,  of  which  we  have  just  been 
speaking,  presented  clearly  to  the  eye  of  our  faith.     Here  we 

a  Matt.  XXV.  46.  b  Rev.  xvi.  15.  c  Mark  xiii.  37. 

d  Matt.  xxiv.  44.  e  Ver.  14.  /2  Tim.  iii.  15—17. 

s  Acts  XX.  52. 


270  THE  meatnS  of  improvement 

are  instructed  in  our  duty,  urged  to  it  by  the  noblest  motives, 
and  directed  where  to  obtain  assistance  ior  the  right  discharge 
©fit.  All  necessary  truths  are  here  reveaL-d,  exceeding  great 
and  precious  promises  are  here  given  us,  and  the  most  illustrious 
and  animating  examples  set  before  us  for  our  imitation. 

Now,  as  it  is  by  this  good  word  of  God  which  liveth  and 
abideth  for  ever,  that  men  are  begotten  to  a  new  and  spiritual 
life;  so  it  is  by  this  word  principally,  that  that  life  is  nourished 
and  maintained.  '  Desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,' says  the 
apostle  Peter,  *  that  ye  may  grow  thereby,  if  so  be  ye  have 
tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious  a'  By  the  streams  that  flow 
from  this  pure  fountain,  the  grace  which  is  of  divine  implanta- 
tion is  watered  and  refreshed,  and  so  flourishes  and  becomes 
fruitful.  Wherefore  the  frequent  and  serious  use  of  the  Bible 
is  of  the  last  importance.  It  should  be  read,  meditated  upon, 
treasured  up  in  the  heart,  and  applied  to  practice.  Is  there, 
can  there  be,  a  Christian  who  doth  not  make  conscience  of  read- 
ing the  Scriptures?  Which  of  us  would  carelessly  throw  aside 
a  letter  sent  us  by  a  friend  we  esteem  and  love,  written  with 
his  own  hand,  sealed  with  his  own  seal,  directed  immediately  to 
us,  and  the  contents  of  which,  we  were  in  general  persuaded, 
were  highly  interesting  and  important : — which  of  us,  I  say, 
would  throw  such  a  letter  aside  carelessly  without  reading  it  ? 
How  much  less  is  it  to  be  imagined,  that  the  Christian  can  treat 
that  living  epistle,  which  the  blessed  God  himself  hath  vouchsaf- 
ed to  send  him,  in  this  light  and  contemptuous  manner?  A  suspi- 
cion of  this  sort,  is,  methinks,  hardly  to  be  admitted.  The  matter 
rather  is,  that  some  Christians  do  through  temptation  neglect 
the  reading  it  so  regularly,  attentively,  and  seriously,  as  is  their 
unquestionable  duty.  And  hence  it  is  they  reap  so  little  benefit 
from  it. 

Would  you  then  groiv  in  grace  ?  read  the  Bible  frequently 
— have  stated  seasons  for  reading  it — collect  your  wandering 
thoughts  and  passions,  while  you  are  reading  it — consider  well 
that  it  is  the  word  of  the  living  God  you  read,  and  that  by  the 
contents  of  it  you  are  one  day  to  be  tried — read  it  with  a  view 
to  profit  by  it — endeavour  to  lay  it  up  in  your  memory — in  fine, 
pray  to  God  to  enable  you  to  transcribe  it  into  your  life.  And 
a  I  Pet.  ii.  2,  3. 


i:^  RELIGION.  211 

the  word  thus  read,  I  may  be  bold  to  affirm,  will  do  you  real 
good.  So  it  was  the  Psalmist  made  this  sacred  book,  imperfect 
as  the  canon  of  Scripture  then  was,  the  man  of  his  counsel  ,•  en- 
tertaining himself  with  it  as  his  song  in  the  house  of  his  pilgri- 
mage. How  happy  for  us  did  we  conscientiously  imitate  his 
example  ! 

2.  The  fellowship  of  good  men  is  another  means  of  religion. 
By  this  I  intend  the  making  them  our  acquaintance,  com- 
muning with  them  in  sacred  ordinances,  and,  on  particular  occa- 
sions, conferring  intimately  with  them  on  the  things  of  God. 
Much  certainly  depends  on  the  company  we  keep.  By  this 
one  circumstance,  it  is  commonly  observed,  the  tempers  and 
morals  of  mankind  are  formed  more  than  by  any  other  besides. 
We  almost  insensibly  imbibe  the  spirit,  and  copy  after  the  exam- 
ple, of  those  with  whom  we  intimately  converse.  Hence,  it  was 
the  complaint  of  a  good  man,  while  he  lamented  the  degeneracy 
of  the  world,  and  the  difficulty  of  finding  agreeable  persons  to 
associate  with,  "  That  he  always  came  out  of  the  company  of 
men  less  a  man  than  he  entered  into  it  a."  But,  degenerate 
as  the  world  is,  there  are  men  of  virtue  and  religion  to  be  met 
with.  And  though  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  such  persons  to 
communicate  grace,  or  to  stamp  the  divine  image  on  our  hearts, 
yet,  if  we  are  already  possessed  of  the  grace  of  God,  as  that  will 
dispose  us  to  covet  such  acquaintance,  so  we  shall  be  likely  to 
reap  very  essential  advantage  from  it.  Familiarity  with  men 
of  this  character,  though  we  are  not  always  talking  of  our  reli- 
gious concerns,  will  have  a  haj)py  effect  to  soften  our  tempers, 
to  promote  Christian  love,  and  to  induce  us  to  caution  and  cir- 
cumspection in  our  conduct.  Having  examples  of  piety,  sim- 
plicity and  goodness  continually  before  us,  we  shall,  by  these 
means,  be  animated  to  our  duty,  and  stand  reproved  when  we 
do  amiss.  David  tells  us  that  '  in  the  saints,  the  excellent  in 
the  earth,  was  all  his  delight  bJ  He  feh  real  pleasure  in  their 
friendship,  and  reaped  singular  profit  from  their  counsel,  and 
from  the  pattern  they  set  him. — Communion  with  them  like- 
wise in  holy  ordinances  will  be  of  mighty  use  to  excite  our  de- 
votion, strengthen  our  engagements  to  God,  bind  us  to  the  in- 
terests of  religion,  and  restrain  us  from  sin.  Thus  we  find  the 
a  £x  hoiulnum  consortio  eempcr  Tenio  miniis  humo.  b  Psal,  xvi.  3. 


279  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

zeal  and  love  of  the  primitive  Christians  were  considerably 
assisted  and  promoted  by  their  continuing  stedfastly^  as  it  is  ex- 
pressed, in  felloicship,  and  assembling  frequently  together  a. 

To  which  I  must  add,  the  freely  opening  our  minds  to  one 
another,  at  fit  seasons,  upon  matters  of  religion.  The  right 
management  of  Christian  conversation  requires  indeed  both 
prudence  and  resolution  ; — prudence,  since  it  would  be  impro- 
per to  unbosom  our  hearts  to  every  good  man,  and  at  every  in- 
terview we  may  have  with  him  ; — and  resoiution,  since  shyness,  if 
not  iiidifterence  to  religion  itself,  is  too  apt  to  hold  us  back  from 
the  practice  of  this  duty  at  all.  Had  we  some  experienced 
friend  with  whom  we  could  be  perfectly  free,  and  were  we  watch- 
ful to  seize  every  favourable  oppoi-tunity  that  oftbrcd  for  dis- 
course of  this  sort,  we  should  doubtless  find  our  account  in  it. 
The  psalmist  had  his  friend  with  whom  he  took  sweet  counsel, 
and  in  whose  company  he  was  used  to  go  up  to  the  house  of 
the  Lord.  So  was  he  frequently  relieved  of  many  discouraging 
doubts  which  perplexed  his  mind,  and  of  many  sad  burdens 
which  oppressed  his  heart.  '  As  iron  sharpeneth  iron,  so  doth 
the  countenance  of  a  man  his  friend  6.'  And  the  sympathy, 
to  say  no  more  of  it.  which  arises  out  of  such  discourse,  pru- 
dently managed,  hath  often  an  amazing^  effect  to  soothe  the 
breast,  and  invigorate  the  spirits.  An  assemblage  of  fair  plants 
in  a  garden  we  shall  see  flourish  and  grow  in  such  connection, 
while  perhaps  a  flower  detached  from  the  rest  languishes  and 
dies. — From  Christian  society  I  go  on  to  mention, 

3.  The  duties  of  public  worship. 

That  God  is  to  be  worshipped  in  a  social  way,  is  a  plain  dic- 
tate of  reason  and  conscience,  and  hath  the  support  and  consent 
of  the  f^ir  greater  part  of  mankind.  Go  where  we  will,  we  see 
some  temple  erected  for  the  service  of  God — some  house  where- 
in men  agree  to  meet  for  the  purposes  of  religion.  Nor  hath 
Scripture  left  us  to  plan  out  the  forms  of  these  public  exercises 
for  ourselves.  Prayer  and  praise,  accompanied  with  suitable 
instructions  from  the  word  of  God,  are  the  main  branches  of 
social  worship.  And  the  assembling  ourselves  together  weekly 
for  such  ends  is  solemnly  enjoined  upon  us.  Now  this  being 
the  case,  the  forsaking  these  assemblies,  as  is  the  manner  of  some, 

a  Acts  ii.  42.  b  Prov.  xxvii.  17. 


IN  RELIGION.  273 

can  never  surely  be  compatible  with  a  growth  in  grace.  Nor 
is  it  imaginable  that  they  who  do  but  now  and  tben  attend 
then),  at  a  late  hour,  in  a  form.al  way,  and  with  little  concern 
to  profit  by  what  they  hear :  I  say  it  is  hardly  imaginable  that 
such  persons  should  make  any  considerable  progress  in  religion. 
A  practice  the  reverse  of  this  is  what  a  real  concern  for  the  wel- 
fare of  our  souls  teaches.  '  They  who  are  planted  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord  shall  flourish  in  the  courts  of  our  God  :'  they 
*  shall  bring  forth  fruit  in  old  age ;  they  shall  be  fat  and  flourish- 
ing a.'  David  expresses  his  ardent  '  desire  to  dwell  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord  6.'  And  Christ  assures  his  faithful  disciples 
to  the  end  of  the  world,  that  '  where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  his  name,  he  will  be  in  the  midst  of  them  c' 

Nor  must  I  here  forget  earnestly  to  recommend  the  two  posi- 
tive institutions  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's  supper;  which  are 
not  only  designed  to  be  public  expressions  of  our  faith  in  Christ, 
and  the  means  of  preserving  alive  the  knowledge  of  his  religion 
in  the  world,  but  are  evidently  adapted  to  cherish  and  promote 
the  interests  of  vital  godliness  in  the  hearts  of  individuals. 
Baptism,  which  is  an  initiating  ordinance,  and  by  which  we  de- 
clare ourselves  the  willing  disciples  of  Jesus,  lays  us  under  such 
personal  obligations  to  him,  as,  when  duly  reflected  on,  may  be 
justly  supposed  to  have  a  powerful  influence  on  our  tempers  and 
lives.  To  this  purpose  we  find  the  apostle  reasoning  with  the 
Romans  on  their  solemn  engagements  in  baptism — How  shall 
we  ivho  are  dead  to  sin  live  any  longer  therein  ?  Know  ye  not 
that  so  many  of  us  as  were  baptized  ifito  Jesus  Christ,  wei-e  bap- 
tized into  his  death  ?  Therefore  we  are  buried  with  him  by  bap- 
tism into  death  ,•  that  like  as  Christ  was  raised  up  from  the 
dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so  we  also  should  walk  in 
neivness  of  life  d.  And  several  other  passages  we  have  of  the 
Jike  import.  Would  we  then  grow  in  grace  ?  This  ordinance 
should  be  submitted  to  as  a  means  to  that  end,  as  well  as  an 
acknowledgment,  in  obedience  to  the  divine  command,  of  the 
grace  we  have  already  received. 

And  as  to  the  Lord's  supper,  whoever  considers  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  tenderness  which  attended  the  institution  of 

a  Psal.  xcii.  13,  H.  b  Psal.  xxvii.  4. 

c  Matt,  xviii.  20.  d  Horn.  vi.  2— 4. 

VOL.  I.  S 


274  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

it,  the  care  taken  in  Scripture  both  by  precept  and  example  to- 
urge  us  to  a  frequent  participation  of  it,  and  the  infinitely  im- 
portant events  and  doctrines  it  was  designed  to  bring  near  to 
our  view,  and  to  impress  upon  our  hearts  ;  will  clearly  see  as 
well  its  reasonableness  and  utility,  as  its  divine  and  positive  au- 
thority. On  what  occasion  may  we  more  naturally  expect  the 
spiritual  presence  of  Christ,  than  when  he  is  tlius,  by  the  me- 
morials of  his  death,  which  he  hath  himself  instituted,  evidently 
set  forth,  crucified  among  us  ?  And  when  he  is  in  the  midst  of 
us  by  his  Spirit,  how  happy  the  effect  in  all  that  peace,  joy  and 
pleasure  we  feel !  and  in  all  that  influence  which  his  grace  hath 
upon  us,  to  bind  our  hearts  to  God  and  one  another,  and  to 
quicken  us  to  duty  and  obedience  !  Can  he  then  expect  to  make 
any  progress  in  religion,  who  treats  this  sacred  appointment  with 
indiiference  and  neglect? 

But  it  is  farther  to  be  observed  of  the  duties  of  public  w'or- 
ship,  that  their  efficacy  under  God  to  the  great  purposes  that 
have  been  mentioned,  depend  not  a  little  upon  a  serious  review 
of  them  afterwards.  Some,  it  is  to  be  feared,  deprive  them- 
selves of  the  benefit  which  would  result  from  the  instructions  of 
one  public  duty,  by  hurrying  too  quickly  into  another,  and  so 
not  allowing  time  for  reflection.  And  what  is  still  worse,  others 
suffer  the  good  impressions  made  upon  their  hearts  to  be  quickly 
erased,  by  instantly  mingling  with  vain  and  trifling  company. 
A  serious  attention  therefore  to  the  duties  of  the  family  and  the 
closet  on  the  evenmg  of  that  day  especially  which  is  devoted  to 
public  worship,  I  look  upon  as  a  very  important  and  indeed  ne- 
cessary means  of  edification.  Earnest  heed  shoidd  we  give  to 
the  things  we  have  heard,  lest  at  any  time  we  let  them  slip  a  ,- 
and  if  we  duly  consider  what  is  said,  we  may  hope  God  will 
give  us  understanding  h.     Which  leads  me, 

4.  And  lastly.  To  recommend  Prayer  as  the  most  essentia^ 
and  important  of  all  those  means  of  religion  which  have  yet  been 
mentioned. 

Prayer  is  the  offering  our  desires   to   God  in   the   name   of 
C+irist.    Now  as  the  desires,  the  native  genuine  desires  of  a  truly 
Christian  heart,  are  the  main  part  of  internal  religion;  so  the  ac- 
tually presenting  them  to  God,  and  that  frequently  in  this  duty, 
a  Ileb.  ii.  1.  h2  Tim.  ii.  7. 


IN  RELIGION.  275 

hath  a  manifest  tendency  to  strengthen  these  springs  of  action, 
and  to  promote  the  spirit  and  energy  of  vital  godliness.  The 
divine  affections  of  the  soul  thus  exercised,  shoot  up,  expand, 
blossom  and  ripen  into  fruit.  Say,  Christians,  what  grief  for 
sin — what  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness — what 
aspirations  of  heart  towards  God — what  hope  in  his  mercy — ' 
and  what  peace  and  joy  in  a  sense  of  his  favour,  have  you  not 
sometimes  felt  springing  up  in  your  breast,  whilst  pouring  out 
your  cries  to  God  ?  And  hath  not  this  happy  experience  an  im- 
mediate effect  to  establish  and  invigorate  all  the  powers  of  re- 
ligion in  the  soul  ? 

Besides,  as  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  are  necessary  to  our 
growth  in  grace,  and,  as  by  the  divine  appointment  they-  are  to 
be  expected  in  this  way,  so  from  hence  the  utility  and  import- 
ance of  prayer  farther  appears.  God  has  commanded  us  not  in 
general  only  to  implore  all  needful  blessings,  but  in  particular 
to  ask  his  Spirit,  assuring  us  that  this  our  request  shall  be  grant- 
ed a.  And  we  are  invited  to  come  boldly  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  not  only  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  our  sins,  but  to  find 
grace  to  help  in  time  of  need  b.  How  then  can  we  expect  to 
prosper  in  religion  if  we  neglect  this  duty  ?  Indeed  if  the  ne- 
glect be  habitual,  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  be  supposed  to  have 
any  religion  at  all.  For  as  well  may  a  man  live  without  breath- 
ing, as  be  a  Christian  without  praying. — Pray  to  God  there- 
fore, Sirs,  not  in  public  only,  but  in  your  families  and  your  re- 
tirements. Be  not  contented  with  having  a  place  of  worship 
to  which  you  may  resort  weekly  in  company  with  others  ;  but  in 
the  tents  which  God  has  pitched  for  you,  erect  an  altarto  his 
service.  Neither  let  the  devotion  of  the  family  suffice  you  : 
but  make  conscience  of  pouring  out  your  hearts  to  Heaven 
morning  and  evening  in  private.  Enter  into  your  closet  (they 
are  the  words  of  Christ  himself),  and  when  you  have  shut  your 
door,  pray  to  your  Father  who  is  in  secret,  and  your  Father 
who  seeth  in  secret,  shall  reward  you  openly  c.  These  are  some 
of  the  principal  means  of  growth  in  grace. 

a  Luke  xi.  13.  h  Heb.  iv.  16.  c  Matt.  vi.  6. 

s2 


276  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

PART  II. 

Haaing  recited  the  principal  means  of  improvement  in  reli- 
gion, I  proceed  now, 

II.  To  lay  down  some  plain  rules  for  our  direction  in  the 
use  of  these  means. 

1.  Be  serious  in  the  discharge  of  religious  duties. 

It  is  sad  to  think  how  little  progress  some  Christians  make 
in  the  divine  life,  who  yet  very  constantly  and  regularly  attend 
on  most  positive  institutions.  To  what,  you  will  say,  is  this 
owing?  I  answer,  It  is  owing  to  the  light,  careless,  trifling 
manner,  in  which  they  are  too  apt  to  acquit  themselves  on  these 
solemn  occasions.  Is  this  the  unworthy  behaviour  of  any  to 
whom  I  speak  ?  Let  me  tell  you,  Sirs,  you  have  no  reason  to 
wonder  at  it,  that  you  reap  so  little  profit  from  your  duties. 
If  it  is  enough  for  you  to  read  your  Bible,  without  understand- 
ing the  meaning,  or  entering  into  the  spirit  of  what  you  read; 
if  you  can  be  satisfied  with  a  bare  appearance  from  week  to  week 
in  some  Christian  assembly,  without  feeling  what  you  hear 
there  ;  and  if  it  will  suffice  you  to  say  a  few  words  to  God 
morning  and  evening,  without  either  a  thought  or  a  wish  ac- 
companying them  ;  so  far  is  it  from  being  strange,  that  you  do 
not  improve  in  i*eligion,  that  it  is  vehemently  to  be  suspected 
vou  arc  utter  strangers  to  it.  Yet  indifierence  and  formality, 
though  not  direct  hypocrisy,  may,  I  am  sensible,  overtake  a  real 
Christian.  Be  watchful,  therefore,  of  the  first  expressions  of 
this  great  evil,  in  religious  duties. — Drea<l  the  thought  of  deal- 
ing deceitfully  with  God. — Set  him  before  your  eyes,  when 
you  are  entering  upon  a  duty. — Keep  him  in  your  view,  if  pos- 
sible, all  through  it — or  however  let  an  habitual  reverence  of  that 
great  Being,  and  of  his  immediate  presence  possess  your  breast. 
God  is  a  Spirit,  and  he  will  be  worshipped  in  spirit  and  in 
truth  a.  O  !  did  we  thus  serve  him,  we  shovdd  assuredly  find 
our  account  in  his  service;  not  to  say  how  many  sad  and  painful 
reflections  this  serious  attention  to  duty  would  happily  prevent. 

2.  Consider  your  duty  as  your  privilege. 

The  treating  it  in  this  manner  is  of  great  importance  to  the 
utility  of  it.     For  as  no  service  can  be  pleasing  to  God,  which 
a  John  iv.  24. 


IN  RELIGION.  27T 

is  rendered  throug]x  constraint  and  from  slavish  principles,  so 
neither  can  it  be  agreeable,  nor,  of  consequence,  beneficial  to 
ourselves.  In  the  common  affairs  of  life,  he  usually  acquits 
himself  the  best  in  any  station,  who  has  a  turn  for  the  business 
of  it,  and  takes  pleasure  in  it.  Such  a  man  will  do  more  in 
a  day,  and  to  far  better  purpose,  than  another  in  a  whole  month. 
In  like  manner,  cordiality  and  cheerfulness  in  matters  of  reli- 
f!fion,  are  of  the  last  moment  to  the  profitable  discharge  of  duty. 
The  real  Christian  will  indeed,  in  the  general,  be  well  affected 
to  what  he  knows  God  hath  required  of  him,  there  being  a  prin- 
ciple of  grace  implanted  in  his  heart.  Yet  it  may  so  happen, 
either  through  melancholy  on  the  one  hand,  or  occasional  dis- 
sipation of  mind  on  the  other,  that  he  may  scarcely  have  any 
present  consideration  to  prompt  him  to  duty,  but  the  authority 
which  hath  enjoined  it.  And  when  this  is  the  case,  the  duty 
he  discharges  merely  from  a  principle  of  conscience,  will  be  in 
a  degree  tedious,  and  so  ineffectual  to  the  end  proposed. 

Be  persuaded,  therefore,  to  lay  it  down  with  you  as  an  un- 
questionable truth,  that  this  and  the  other  religious  exercise  is 
your  duty,  not  as  imposed  by  an  express  command  only,  but  as 
being  in  its  own  nature  adapted  to  promote  your  real  good. — 
Keep  it  carefully  in  mind,  that  the  Master  you  serve,  is  not 
hard  and  severe,  but  kind  and  merciful ;  that  he  consults  not 
his  own  glory  alone,  but  your  profit. — Think  of  the  pleasures 
you  have  formerly  enjoyed  in  devotional  exercises. — Think  of 
the  substantial  benefits  you  have  reaped  from  them. — ^And  think 
of  the  numerous  blessings  you  may  still  expect  to  receive 
through  these  means.  So  will  you  in  all  likelihood  be  roused 
out  of  your  lethargy,  be  inspired  with  a  cheerful  temper,  and 
betake  yourself  to  duty,  with  a  vigour  and  activity  which  will 
at  once  render  it  both  pleasant  and  improving.  Your  heart 
thus  enlarged  by  the  grace  of  God,  you  will  run  the  ivay  of  his 
commandments  a. 

3.  Seize  the  most  favourable  opportunities  that  olTcr  for  re- 
ligious duties. 

The  timing  a  business  well,  it  is  often  observed,  greatly  fa- 
cilitates the  success  of  it.  An  observation  this,  which  may  with 
the  same  truth  be  applied  to  our  best  concerns,  as  to  those  of  a 

a  Fsal.  cxix.  32. 


2T8  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

civil  nature.  Our  hearts  are  not  always  in  a  like  frame,  nor 
are  our  temporal  affairs  always  alike  conveniently  disposed  for 
duty.  In  general,  the  jBttest  seasons  for  meditation  and  prayer, 
are  those  wherein  the  mind  is  most  disentangled  from  the  bu- 
siness  of  the  world,  and  we  can,  without  interruption  or  the  ob- 
servation of  others,  retire  to  converse  with  God  and  ourselves. 
The  morning  and  evening  are  usually  in  these  respects  most 
favourable.  But  the  hour  and  exact  proportion  of  time,  as  per- 
sons' circumstances  greatly  differ,  must  be  left  to  every  one's 
prudence  to  direct :  nor  have  we  any  positive  command  respect- 
ing these  matters ;  though  scripture  hath  not  failed  to  give  us 
some  hints  concerning  them.  Isaac  went  out  to  meditate  in  the 
Jield  at  eventide  a.  David  says,  My  voice  shalt  thou  hear  in 
the  morning,  in  the  morning  will  I  direct  my  prayer  to  thee  and 
look  up  b.  And  our  Saviour  on  extraordinary  occasions  spent 
whole  nights  in  devotion.  To  Christian  prudence  also  the 
question  must  be  referred  respecting  the  fit  time  for  family- 
worship  and  religious  conversation.  These  matters  however, 
properly  conducted,  will  greatly  contribute  to  the  utility  of  such 
exercises. 

But  what  I  have  chiefly  in  view  under  this  head,  is  the  right 
improvement  of  occasional  opportunities  for  duty.  By  occasional 
opportunities,  I  here  mean,  those  seasons  wherein  our  attention 
is  roused  by  the  loud  and  sudden  voice  of  Providence,  or  our 
affections  are  melted  and  softened  into  a  frame  peculiarly  suited 
to  the  receiving  religious  impressions.  If  these  happy  moments, 
which  are  in  Scripture  described  as  the  accepted  time  and  the 
time  in  which  God  is  to  befound,  were  eagerly  seized  and  care- 
fully improved,  either  by  reading,  meditation  or  prayer,  it  is  not 
to  be  questioned  but  the  Christian  would  experience  a  pleasure 
and  profit  in  them  as  extraordinary  as  the  occasions  of  them. 
His  heart  thus  elevated  to  God  would  make  him,  as  it  is  some- 
where expressed,  like  the  chariots  of  a  willing  people.  And  the 
delightful  savour  of  these  devotional  exercises  would  abide  upon 
his  spirits  many  days,  not  to  say  what  important  effects  it  would 
produce  in  his  general  temper  and  conduct. 

4.  Be  regular  and  constant  in  the  discharge  of  religious  du-' 
ties. 

«  Gen.  xxiv.  63,  b  P$al.  v.  3. 


IN  RELIGION.  279 

Advice  of  this  sort,  in  regard  of  bodily  health,  is  universally 
aj)proved  as  salutary  and  good.  Food  and  exercise  are  neces- 
sary for  the  support  and  preservation  of  life  :  but  neither  of  them 
will  do  us  the  service  for  which  they  were  appointed,  if  they  are 
not  properly  and  seasonably  used.  In  like  manner,  how  little 
profit  can  they  be  supposed  to  reap  from  public  ordinances  or 
private  duties,  who  attend  to  them  but  now  and  then,  and  just 
as  fancy  or  passion  prompts  them?  Nay,  I  may  add,  what  great 
mischiefs  must  needs  ensue  upon  such  irregular  intermissions 
of  duty  !  The  strength  of  the  renewed  mind  will  quickly  be  en- 
feebled, and  its  vital  powers  sensibly  languish  and  decline.  I 
know  indeed  it  is  often  alleged  in  excuse  for  these  criminal  ne- 
glects, that  the  heart  is  not  in  a  proper  frame  for  the  exalted 
exercises  of  devotion,  and  that  therefore,  they  had  better  be 
omitted  than  attempted.  But  this,  to  say  the  best  of  it,  is  a 
very  insufficient  excuse.  For  though  we  ought  to  be  serious 
and  reverent  in  our  approaches  to  God,  yet  it  is  by  no  means  a 
necessary  pre-requisite  to  duty,  that  our  hearts  are  extraordina- 
rily elevated  to  Heaven  at  our  entrance  upon  it,  since  to  attain 
such  a  frame  is  the  end  proposed  by  the  duty  itself.  And  if  our 
temper  be  such  as  absolutely  unfits  us  for  conversing  with  God, 
that  is  our  great  fault,  because  it  is  the  effect  of  some  sinful  in- 
dulgence. And  then  as  to  the  suspending  our  obligations  to 
prayer  or  other  religious  duties  entirely  upon  supernatural  im- 
pulses, this  is  the  height  of  enthusiasm,  and  when  used  as  an 
excuse  for  any  neglects  on  our  part,  is  little  better  than  profane- 
ness,  since  it  is  making  God  answerable  for  our  irregularities. 

Be  regular  therefore  and  constant  in  duty. — Gather  your 
manna  morning  and  evening. — Go,  with  Peter  and  John,  up  to 
the  temple  at  the  hour  of  prayer. — Yield  not  to  every  trifling 
excuse :  if  you  do,  excuses  will  increase,  and  become  every  day 
more  and  more  urgent. — Suspect  your  own  heart  of  treachery, 
when  the  want  of  a  suitable  frame  becomes  a  temptation  with 
you  to  neglect  stated  seasons  of  devotion. — Turn  this  device  of 
►Satan  against  himself,  by  making  it  a  reason  with  you  to  im- 
plore earnestly  divine  grace  to  dispose  you  to  duty. — And  while 
you  dread  formality,  take  heed  how  you  are  driven  by  the  ap- 
prehension of  this  evil  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  irrcligiou 
and  profaneness.     He  who  makes  a  point  of  regularly  attending 


280  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

upon  divine  institutions,  and  that  with  a  view  to  his  real  profit, 
though  he  may  not  always  enjoy  that  pleasure  he  could  wish, 
will  yet  assuredly  find  his  account  in  so  doing. 

5.  Rest  not  in  your  duties. 

What  I  mean  by  this  is  the  cautioning  you  against  laying 
such  a  stress  upon  your  duties  as  shall  defeat  their  true  intent. 
And  of  this  we  are  guilty,  when  we  attend  carefully  and  pre- 
cisely to  the  forms  of  religion,  without  a  due  concern  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  them.  But  of  what  avail  are  all  the  external 
labours  of  fasting  and  prayer,  and  other  the  most  expensive  ser- 
vices, if  the  heart  be  not  engaged  in  them  ?  Scripture  and  reason 
teach  that  they  are  not  only  unprofitable  to  ourselves,  but  an 
abomination  to  the  Lord.  Beware,  therefore,  of  formality,  and 
of  that  most  dangerous  species  of  pride,  the  valuing  yourselves 
upon  your  strictness  and  regularity.  This  is  the  fly  in  the  pot  of 
ointment,  which  spoils  its  grateful  odour.  That  confidence, 
likewise,  in  duty,  which,  in  the  least  degree,  precludes  a  regard 
to  Christ,  and  the  influences  of  divine  grace,  is  highly  perni- 
cious and  sinful.  Yet  how  insensibly  such  a  criminal  self-com- 
placency is  apt  to  insinuate  itself  into  our  hearts  I  hardly  need 
tell  you.  And  hence  that  vuifruitfulness,  shame,  and  dejection 
of  spirit,  we  afterwards  so  sadly  lament. 

Be  watchful,  therefore.  Christians,  against  this  temper. — Let 
Christ  be  the  grand  medium  of  all  your  intercourses  with  hea- 
ven.— Fix  your  eyes  steadily  upon  him,  and  expect  to  be  ac- 
cepted of  God  alone  through  him. — Rely  on  his  Spirit  for  that 
assistance  you  need,  and  give  him  the  glory  of  it. — Put  your 
duties  into  the  hands  of  the  Angel  of  the  covenant^  to  be  per- 
fumed with  the  incense  of  his  merit. — And  having  done  all,  ac- 
knowledge yourselves  unprofitable  servants.  O  were  this  our 
temper,  what  pleasure  might  we  not  enjoy  in  duty,  and  what 
substantial  fruits  might  we  not  reap  from  it !  I  have  only  to  add 
once  more, 

6.  And  lastly.  Let  there  be  an  agreement  between  your  pro- 
fession and  practice. 

It  is  not  possible  that  a  man  who  makes  conscience  of  the 
duties  I  have  been  recommending  should  lead  an  immoral  life. 
To  dissuade  you  therefore  from  open  enormities,  after  what  has 
been  said,  may  seem  needless,     I  rather  mean  to  exhort  you  to 


I 


IN  RELIGION.  281 

Such  a  circumspection,  decency,  and,  if  I  may  so  say,  dignity  of 
conduct,  as  is  answerable  to  your  religious  privileges.  A  vain, 
trifling,  desultory  behaviour  from  day  to  day,  though  it  be  not, 
strictly  speaking,  vicious,  is  very  unbecoming  a  Christian. 
Have  some  object  of  importance  in  civil  life  daily  in  view.  Pur- 
sue it  with  attention.  And  take  care  that  your  hours  of  relaxa- 
tion and  amusement  be  so  conducted,  and  held  under  such  re- 
straints, as  that  they  may  neither  hurt  your  conscience,  nor  hin- 
der your  usefulness.  A  good  man  may  not  only  use  the  bless- 
ings of  life,  but  enjoy  them  :  nay,  and  it  is  his  duty  to  be  cheer- 
ful, as  well  as  serious.  The  mean,  however,  between  lightness 
and  severity  you  should  carefully  observe.  And  this  will  at 
once  reflect  a  lustre  on  your  religious  profession  in  the  view  of 
others,  and  tend  greatly  to  your  own  edification  and  comfort. 

Having  thus  directed  you  to  the  proper  means  of  improvement 
in  religion,  and  laid  down  certain  rules  to  guide  you  in  the  use 
of  them,  I  should  now, 

III.  Attempt,  by  suitable  motives,  to  excite  your  most  serious 
regards  to  the  exhortations  which  have  been  given.  But  these 
motives  I  shall  at  present  do  little  more  than  mention,  as  they 
will  be  occasionally  discussed  in  the  following  discourses.    Now, 

1.  The  first  which  demands  our  consideration  is  the  end  pro- 
posed by  the  use  of  these  means — our  growth  in  grace.  An  end 
truly  noble  and  important,  and  which,  if  it  were  rightly  under- 
stood, as  comprehending  in  it  the  greatest  blessedness,  it  could 
not  fail  of  having  a  powerful  effect  upon  our  hearts.  And  here, 
in  order  to  fire  our  zeal,  and  provoke  our  emulation,  I  might  de- 
scribe the  character  of  him  who  excels  in  religion.  I  might  tell 
you  what  real  beauty  there  appears  in  his  countenance,  and  in 
his  general  deportment — an  amiableness  which,  while  it  attracts 
the  esteem  and  affection  of  his  fellow-Christians,  dem.ands  the 
respect  and  reverence  of  even  the  wicked  themselves.  I  might 
tell  you  what  pleasure  he  feels  in  his  own  breast,  resulting  from 
a  sense  of  the  divine  favour,  and  the  exalted  hope  of  eternal  life. 
And  I  might  tell  you  how  great  a  blessing  he  is  to  his  friends, 
to  the  church  of  God,  and  to  civil  society.  If,  therefore,  you 
wish  to  be  truly  happy,  honourable  and  useful,  let  it  be  your 
concern,  above  all  things,  to  grow  in  grace.  And  then  it  is  to  be 
jremeraberedj  as  a  farther  argument  to  persuade  us  to  diligence, 


282  THE  MEANS  OF  IMPROVEMENT 

2.  That  this  object,  so  highly  important,  is  not  to  be  attain- 
ed, ordinarily,  without  the  use  of  means.  There  is  a  manifest 
suitableness  in  the  means,  as  they  have  been  described,  to  the 
end.  And  we  are  obliged,  by  the  divine  appointment,  to  the 
observation  of  them.  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear 
and  trembling  a.  And  give  diligence  to  make  your  calling 
and  election  sure  b.  It  were,  therefore,  the  height  of  presump- 
tion, however  the  power  and  grace  of  God  may  be  exerted 
upon  extraordinary  occasions,  to  expect  he  should  depart  from 
his  usual  measures  of  administration.  As  well  may  the  hus- 
bandman hope  to  reap  a  plenteous  harvest  from  land  which 
he  hath  taken  no  pains  to  cultivate,  as  a  Christian  to  grow  in 
grace,  while  he  lives  in  the  neglect  of  appointed  duties.  Nay, 
such  a  neglect  is  so  far  from  being  in  the  least  countenanced  by 
the  doctrine  of  divine  influences,  that  it  plainly  argues  the  want 
of  a  true  and  lively  faith  in  that  doctrine.     And  then, 

3.  In  the  use  of  these  means,  so  fit  in  their  own  nature,  and 
so  evidently  of  God's  appointment,  we  have  the  greatest  encou- 
rao-ement  to  hope  we  shall  attain  the  end.  If  the  promise  of 
hira  who  cannot  lie  is  to  be  credited,  there  can  be  no  room  to  he- 
sitate upon  this  point.  Each  of  the  duties  that  have  been  recomr- 
mended  is  not  only  urged  upon  us  by  divine  authority,  but  hath 
either  directly  or  indirectly  some  assurance  of  success  annexed  to 
the  due  performance  of  it.  Time  would  fail  me,  were  I  to  refer 
you  to  them  all ;  I  shall  therefore  sura  up  the  whole  of  what 
Scripture  hath  declared  upon  this  matter,  in  the  words  of  the 
prophet,  They  icho  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their 
strength  ,-  they  shall  mount  tip  with  wings  as  eagles ,-  they  shall 
run,  and  not  be  weary,  and  they  shall  walk,  and  not  faint  c. 

And  now  to  apply  what  hath  been  said,  let  each  of  us  se- 
riously enquire, 

1.  Whether  we  have  the  grace  of  God?  The  seeds  of  reli- 
gion must  be  first  implanted  in  the  heart,  before  they  can  spring 
up,  and  bring  forth  fruit.  Have  we  then  a  principle  of  divine 
faith  ?  If  we  have,  the  natural,  the  genuine,  the  necessary  ex- 
pressions of  it  will  be  such  as  these — abhorrence  of  sin,  and  sor- 
row for  it — veneration  for  God,  and  submission  to  his  will — love 
to  Christ,  and  a  concern  to  please  him — and  a  preference  of  the 

a  Fhil.  ii.  12.  b  2  Pet.  i.  10.  c  Isa.  xl.  31. 


IN  RELIGION.  283 

hopes  and  pleasures  of  religion,  to  those  of  time  and  sense. 
There  are,  I  am  sensible,  degrees  of  grace.  But  its  nature  is 
the  same  in  all  Christians.  And  they  who,  through  various  dis- 
couragements, are  the  most  backward  to  pronounce  certainly  up- 
on their  own  state,  will  nevertheless,  if  they  are  sincere,  be  free 
to  declare,  that  their  practical  judgment  is  fixed  on  the  side 
of  religion,  and  that  their  first  and  principal  desire  is  directed 
to  the  great  objects  it  recommends;  while  others  will  bear  them 
witness,  that  the  general  com'se  of  their  lives  corresponds  with 
their  profession.  If,  then,  we  have  the  grace  of  God,  let  God 
have  the  glory  of  it.  If  we  have  it  not,  O  may  a  firm  persua- 
sion of  its  importance  excite  an  ardent  concern  to  obtain  it  ! 
Again, 

2.  Let  us  enquire,  those  of  us  who  are  Christians,  Whether 
we  groiv  in  grace  ?  To  determine  aright  upon  this  question  re- 
quires no  small  judgment,  attention  and  impartiality,  since, 
through  various  causes,  we  are  prone  to  pass  a  false  verdict 
upon  ourselves.  This  mistake  we  shall  be  in  great  danger  of 
making,  if  either  outward  prosperity,  or  spiritual  gifts,  or  the 
elevation  of  our  passions  on  certain  occasions,  are  the  criterions 
-by  which  we  judge.  The  prevailing  temper  of  the  heart  should 
most  certainly  be  the  grand  object  of  enquiry.  As,  therefore, 
there  are  no  dispositions  more  strongly  characteristic  of  a  real 
Christian  than  humility,  self-diffidence,  dread  of  sin,  a  con- 
scientious regard  to  duty,  indifference  to  the  world,  and  zeal  for 
the  glory  of  God,  the  honour  of  Christ,  and  the  interest  of  reli- 
gion; so  our  improvement  in  these  graces  will  furnish  the  most 
satisfactory  answer  to  this  important  question.  And  if  we  do 
indeed  prosper  in  religion,  we  shall  be  sensible  that  our  pros- 
perity is  owing  to  those  divine  influences,  which  have  concurred 
with  the  means  appointed  to  that  end.  Let  us,  therefore,  make 
our  humble  and  cheerful  acknowledgments  to  the  Spirit  of  all 
grace,  be  careful  to  walk  worthy  of  our  high  calling,  still  press 
on  towards  perfection,  and,  amidst  the  many  remaining  infirmi- 
ties which  daily  afflict  our  hearts,  comfort  ourselves  with  an  as- 
sured hope,  That  he  who  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  us  will 
perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ  a. 

a  FhU.  i.  6. 


DISCOURSE  XII. 


IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION  THE  FRUIT 
OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE. 

HosEA  XIV.  5. — /  will  be  as  the  detv  unto  Israel. 

JL  HE  great  Author  of  nature  hath  so  framed  mankind,  and  so 
disposed  the  affairs  of  human  life,  as  that,  on  the  one  hand,  our 
dependence  on  him  should  not  at  all  lessen  our  obligations  to 
diligence  ;  and  that  our  diligence,  on  the  other,  should  not  pre- 
clude our  regards  to  the  influence  of  Divine  providence.  Were 
the  husbandman  to  neglect  tilling  his  land,  because,  not  having 
the  weather  at  his  command,  he  cannot  secure  a  fruitful  crop ; 
every  one  would  pronounce  his  conduct  as  weak,  as  it  would  be 
unquestionably  criminal.  For  he  who  doth  not  sow,  will  as- 
suredly not  reap ;  unless  a  miracle  intervene,  which  it  were  the 
height  of  madness  to  expect.  Whereas,  he  who  does  his  duty, 
though  he  cannot  bo  certain  of  a  prosperous  event,  may  upon 
very  reasonable  considerations  hope  for  it.  So  that  no  inference 
is  to  be  drawn  from  the  belief  of  a  providence,  that  is  the  least 
unfavourable  to  industry. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  he  acts  a  part  equally  foolish  and  sin- 
ful, who  builds  his  future  prospects  wholly  upon  his  own  pru- 
dence and  labour.  For  as  it  is  an  undoubted  truth,  that  the 
concurrence  of  an  external  influence,  which  is  not  under  our 
controul,  is  absolutely  necessary  to  secure  success ;  so  a  profane 
disregard  and  contempt  of  that  influence,  must  be  highly  pro- 
voking to  God,  and  may  justly  occasion  a  suspension  of  it. 
This  sometimes  happens.  And  in  such  case,  all  a  man's  toil 
proves  fruitless,  and  he  has  the  additional  distress  of  having  in- 
curred guilt  thereby.  And  though  God  does  not  always  take 
advantage  of  the  impiety  of  men,  to  withhold  from  their  endea- 
vours the  concurrence  of  his  providential  influence ;  yet  what 
they  thus  obtain,  in  defiance  as  it  were  of  his  power  and  good- 
ness, is  sure  in  the  end  to  prove  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing. 


IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION,  &C.  285 

"Wherefore  let  a  man  be  as  industrious  as  he  will,  if  he  pays  no 
regard  to  the  providence  of  God,  his  conduct  is  as  unreasonable 
and  criminal,  as  if  through  a  pretended  reliance  on  that  provi- 
dence, he  were  to  abandon  himself  Lo  sloth  and  indolence. 

These  observations  may  with  good  reason  be  applied  to  the 
great  concerns  of  religion.  In  vain  do  we  profess  iaith  in  the 
influence  and  operations  of  the  blessed  Spirit,  while  we  live 
in  the  slothful  neglect  of  appointed  duties.  And  on  the  other 
hand,  it  will  be  to  as  little  purpose,  that  we  industriously  apply 
ourselves  to  those  means  of  improvement,  which  were  recom- 
mended in  the  former  discourse;  if  at  the  same  time  our  eye 
is  not  directed  to  the  mighty  power  and  grace  of  God,  who  alone 
gives  the  increase.  And  it  is  no  small  encouragement  to  the 
Christian,  amidst  all  the  humble  and  painful  labours  of  duty, 
that  he  who  hath  commanded  him  to  grow  in  grace^  hath  also 
assured  him,  as  in  the  text,  that  he  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Is- 
rael. 

These  words  were  indeed  primarily  addressed  to  the  Israelites, 
that  is,  to  the  ten  tribes  who  were  separated  from  Judali  and 
Benjamin  in  the  days  of  Rehoboam:  yet  they  are  not  of  pri- 
vate interpretation,  but  may  be  applied  to  all  in  similar  circum- 
stances. It  will  however  be  of  use,  for  explaining  the  pas- 
sage and  throwing  still  farther  light  on  the  general  argument 
before  us,  to  take  a  transient  view  of  the  character  and  circum- 
stances of  this  people  at  the  time  the  prophet  thus  addressed 
them.  They  were  the  people  of  God  in  a  sense  peculiar  to 
themselves  and  different  from  other  nations  ;  God  having  taken 
them  under  his  special  government  and  protection,  and  been 
used  by  extraordinary  means  to  defend  and  save  them.  Sa 
that  the  idea  of  a  providence  was  interwoven  with  their  civil 
constitution,  and  a  dependence  upon  it  was  the  first  expression 
of  obedience  required  of  them.  Wherefore  the  putting  their 
trust  at  any  time  in  an  arm  of  flesh,  to  which  they  were  ever 
prone,  was  justly  considered  as  a  breach  of  their  allegiance  to 
God  their  king,  and  a  forfeiture  of  his  favour  and  protection : 
not  to  say  how  it  became  the  source  of  every  other  impiety,  and 
so  in  the  end  drew  after  it  very  fatal  consequences. 

In  the  guilt  of  this  sin,  and  the  miserable  effects  of  it,  they 
were  now  plunged.     The  prophet  Hosea  therefore  being  sent 


$86  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

to  awaken  them  to  repentance,  puts  them  upon  making  such 
humble  confessions,  and  forming  such  new  resolutions,  as  were 
suited  to  the  kind  of  guilt  they  had  contracted.  Take  with 
you  words,  and  turn  to  the  Lord.  Say  unto  him,  take  away 
all  iniquity  and  receive  us  graciously,  so  will  we  render  tlie  calves 
of  our  lips.  Ashur,  that  is,  the  Assyrians  with  whom  they  had 
sou<,dit  alliance,  shall  not  save  us  ;  we  will  not  ride  upon  horses, 
that  is,  trust  in  warlike  preparations ;  neither  will  we  say  any 
more  to  the  icork  of  our  hands,  ye  are  our  Gods :  for  in  thee 
the  fatherless  fndetli  mercy  a.  To  which  acknowledgments 
he  represents  the  blessed  God  as  immediately  replying,  /  will 
heal  their  backsliding,  I  will  love  them  freely :  for  mine  anger 
is  turned  away  from  him.  I  ivill  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel  : 
he  shall  grow  as  the  lily,  and  cast  forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon. 
*'  Your  infidelity,  self-confidence  and  impiety  have  almost  provr 
ed  your  ruin.  They  have  defaced  your  beauty  and  glory,  and 
reduced  you  to  a  languishing  dying  state.  But  I  will  have 
mercy  on  you.  That  extraordinary  providence  which  formerly 
interposed  in  your  favour  shall  again  make  you  prosperous  and 
happy.  On  you  shall  the  dews  of  my  salvation  descend  ;  and 
so  shall  this  withered  plant  recover  its  strength  and  vigour,  and 
again  bring  forth  fruit  to  my  glory." 

And  how  justly  may  this  reasoning  with  the  Israelites  of  old, 
be  applied  to  the  church  of  God  under  the  present  dispensation, 
of  which  they  were  an  eminent  type  !  That  confidence  in  divine 
Providence  which  was  required  of  them,  as  an  expression  of 
their  allegiance  to  Heaven  in  their  civil  capacity,  was  a  distant 
but  natural  intimation  of  that  faith  which  is  required  of  us  in 
Christ  our  King  and  Saviour,  and  in  the  influences  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  which  he  hath  obtained  for  us.  And  as  their  failure  in 
point  of  duty,  to  that  extraordinary  providence  they  were  under, 
was  the  unhappy  cause  of  all  their  declensions  and  miseries,  so 
ours,  in  regard  of  that  confidence  we  ought  to  place  in  the  power 
and  grace  of  God,  is  the  sad  source  of  all  the  declensions  and 
miseries  we  at  any  time  feel  and  lament  as  Christians.  Where- 
fore, under  these  circumstances,  the  like  acknowledgments  are 
due  from  us,  both  in  our  individual  and  collective  capacity,  as 
from  them.     The  first  step  we  are  to  take,  is  to  be  deeply  hum- 

a  Ver.  2,  3. 


tHE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  287 

bled  for  this  great  error,  which  is  the  cause  of  all  our  wanderings 
from  God,  even  confidence  in  ourselves,  and  a  disregard  to  the 
influences  of  his  Spirit.  And,  thus  rttiirning  to  him  hy  pray- 
er and  repentance,  we  may  hope  for  the  same  favourable  answer 
they  received,  I  will  heal  your  backsliding,  I  iv  ill  love  you  freely  ^ 
for  mine  anger  is  turned  away.  I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Is* 
rael. 

Now  by  the  blessing  here  promised,  we  are  to  understand 
the  influence  of  divine  grace ,- — that  secret,  invisible,  and  pov\'- 
erful  influence,  whereby  the  word  of  God,  his  ordinances,  and 
providences,  are  made  effectual  to  promote  our  knowledge,  hap- 
piness, and  purity ; — that  influence  which  impresses  divine  truths 
upon  our  minds,  raises  our  hearts  and  affection?  to  Pleaven, 
cheers  and  refreshes  our  fainting  spirits,  quickens  and  animates 
us  to  duty,  forms  us  into  the  likeness  of  God,  and  makes  us 
meet  for  the  everlasting  enjoyment  of  him  in  the  world  above. 
And  the  more  emphatically  to  express  the  divine  agency  herein, 
God  is  pleased  to  declare,  that  he  will  himself  be  as  the  dew 
unto  Israel.  So  the  psalmist,  speaking  as  is  generally  thought 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  says.  He  shall  come  down  like  the 
rain  upon  the  mown  grass  ,•  as  showers  that  water  the  earth  a. 
Now  what  I  propose  is  only, 

I.  To  illustrate  this  subject,  by  shewing  you  why  these  di- 
vine influences  are  compared  to  the  dew ;  and, 

II.  To  make  some  practical  reflections. 

I.  Why  are  the  influences  of  divine  grace  compared  to  the 
dew  ? 

The  dew  is  a  mist  or  thin  small  kind  of  rain,  which  falls  upon 
the  earth  morning  and  evening,  in  a  very  gentle,  gradual,  im- 
perceptible manner,  and  so  refreshes  the  ground,  and  makes  it 
fruitful.  In  some  countries,  especially  the  eartern,  it  is  a  great 
deal  more  plentiful  than  with  us,  and  for  several  months  together, 
supplies  the  place  of  rain.  It  hath  been  generally  esteemed, 
therefore,  a  very  great  blessing,  and  is  often  in  scripture  so  repre- 
sented. Thus,  when  Isaac  blesses  his  son  Jacob,  he  says,  God 
give  thee  of  the  dew  of  heaven,  andthe  fatness  of  the  earth,  and 
plenty  of  corn  and  wine  b.  And  when  Moses  blesses  the  tribe 
of  Joseph,  he  says,  Blessed  of  the  Lord  be  his  lands  for  the 

a  Psal.  Ixxii.  6.  b  Gen.  xxvii.  28. 


288  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

precious  things  of  heaven,  for  the  dew  a.  And  on  the  other  hand, 
the  withholding  it  is  mentioned  as  a  curse.  Ye  mountains  of 
Gilhoa,  let  there  be  no  dew  upon  you  b. 

Now  there  are  three  views  in  which  we  may  consider  the  dew 
as  a  just  and  natural  emblem  of  the  influences  of  the  Spirit.  It 
is  so  in  regard,  first,  of  its  origin;  secondly,  of  the  manner  in 
which  it  falls;  and  thirdly,  of  its  use. 

First,  As  to  its  origin.  The  dew  comes  down  from  above : 
whence  it  is  frequently  called  The  deiv  of  heaven,  and  the 
heavens  are  said  to  drop  down  dew  c.  Indeed,  strictly  speaking, 
it  is  a  vapour  exhaled  from  the  earth  and  waters.  But  as  this 
vapour  is  carried  up  into  the  air,  and  from  thence  falls  upon  the 
ground,  it  may  very  well  be  described  as  coming  from  above, 
and  from  the  heavens.  Nor  is  it  the  effect  of  human  art  and. 
power,  but  a  wise  provision  of  the  God  of  heaven  for  watering 
the  earth,  and  making  it  fruitful.  And  hence,  among  other 
wonders  of  his  powei',  which  the  great  God  mentions  in  his  dis- 
course with  .Job,  he  thus  challenges  him  concerning  the  rain  and 
the  dew,  Hath  tlte  rain  a  father  ?  or  who  hath  begotten  the  drops 
of  the  dew  d  ? 

In  like  manner,  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  are  from  above, 
and  come  down  from  God.  They  are  the  effects,  not  of  human 
wit  or  energy,  but  of  divine  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness. 
And  they  are  absolutely  at  God's  disposal,  and  under  his  direc- 
tion and  controul.  And  who  shall  question  this?  To  deny  that 
there  is  a  secret,  invisible,  mighty  influence,  which  at  some  sea- 
sons especially  quickens  the  heart  of  a  good  man,  and  animates 
him  to  his  duty,  is  in  effect  to  deny  all  religion.  And  to  ascribe 
this  influence  to  a  man's  own  will  and  agency,  is  not  only  to 
contradict  the  evident  testimony  of  Scripture,  but  to  admit  diffi- 
culties which  are  not  to  be  satisfactorily  accounted  for  on  any 
one  principle  of  nature  or  reason.  No  man,  I  think,  will  dare 
affirm,  that  God,  who  is  a  Spirit,  cannot  have  access  to  the  spi- 
rits which  he  hath  made ;  or  that  there  is  any  the  least  absurdity 
in  supposing,  that  if  he  please  he  can  impress  the  mind  with  a 
firm  and  lively  belief  of  future  and  invisible  things,  incline  the 
will  to  a  cheerful  compliance  with  the  dictates  of  his  word,  soften 

a  Deut.  xxxiii.  13.  b  2  Sam.  i.  21. 

c  Deut.  x:Lxiii.  28,  d  Job  xxxvlU.  28. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  289 

the  hard  heart,  and  so  touch  the  affections  as  to  make  them  an 
effectual  spring  to  action. 

And  that  this  is  the  case,  may,  I  think,  with  great  strength 
of  reason,  be  inferred  from  a  plain  matter  of  fact,  of  which  we 
are  frequently  the  witnesses.  The  means  of  religion  are  mani- 
festly adapted  to  produce  the  effects  which  have  been  mentioned, 
just  as  the  sowing  and  cultivating  the  ground  to  make  it  fruitful. 
But  these  means  are  not  alike  successful  with  all  who  enjoy 
them.  Here  is  one  shall  have  the  evidence  of  the  gospel  set 
before  him  in  the  most  convincing  light,  and  shall  be  reasoned 
and  expostulated  with  in  the  most  lively  and  affecting  manner; 
and  yet  he  shall  continue  as  stupidly  ignorant,  unbelieving,  and 
perverse  as  ever.  While  another,  who  came  under  the  sound 
of  the  word,  with  perhaps  as  great,  if  not  greater  prejudices  and 
disinclinations  than  he,  shall  go  away  deeply  affected  with  his 
future  and  everlasting  concerns,  and  with  such  impressions  of 
divine  truths  on  his  heart,  as  issue  in  a  saving  conversion  to 
God.  And  so  with  respect  to  Christians  themselves ;  how  cold 
and  languid  are  some  under  the  means  of  grace,  while  others 
are  sensibly  refreshed,  quickened,  and  animated  by  those  means  ! 
The  like  may  be  observed  in  regard  of  that  darkness  and  dejec- 
tion of  mind  which  the  best  of  men  on  some  occasions  endure. 
Here  are  two,  both  equally  oppressed  with  fear  and  melancholy, 
and  both  equally  desirous  to  enjoy  the  sensible  comforts  and 
pleasures  of  religion.  They  have  both  recourse  to  the  same 
means.  The  one  is  happily  set  at  liberty  from  all  his  fears, 
while  the  other  goes  away  with  a  sorrowful  heart,  and  remains 
a  considerable  time  longer  in  this  unhappy  and  afflicted  state. 
Hovv  natural  the  inference  !  that  the  benefit  which  the  former 
reaps  from  the  means  of  religion,  is  owing  to  the  kind  and  sea- 
sonable influences  of  divine  grace  which  accompany  them. 

But  it  is  not  from  fact  and  experience  only,  that  we  are  led 
into  this  conclusion.  It  is  the  universal  and  prevailing  doctrine 
of  the  Bible.  The  Bible  itself  claims  our  attention  as  a  super- 
natural revelation,  and  therefore  takes  it  for  granted,  as  a  truth 
evident  to  our  reason,  that  God  can  have,  and  that  he  actually 
hath  access  to  the  hearts  of  men.  Whoever  reads  the  Psalms, 
and  the  other  devotional  writings  of  the  Old  Testament,  will 
see  that  the  divine  influences  were  the  common  privilege  of  all 

VOL.  I.  T 


290  IMPROVEMENT  IN  ftELlClON 

good  men  in  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world,  and  that  it  was  in 
this  way  religion  was  begun  and  carried  on  in  their  hearts. 
And  my  time  would  fail  me,  were  I  to  cite  the  most  remarkable 
passages  onlj'',  which  relate  to  the  Spirit  of  God  and  his  in- 
fluence, in  the  New  Testament.  Nor  are  we  in  any  danger  of 
ascribincp  that  to  God,  which  is  the  fruit  of  a  weak  and  de- 
praved  imagination,  while  we  are  carefully  attentive  to  the 
tendency  and  effect  of  those  impressions  that  are  made  on  our 
hearts. 

The  influences  then  of  v/hich  we  are  here  speaking,  are  of 
divine  original.  They  descend  like  the  dew  from  the  heavens. 
They  are  from  above,  and  come  down  from  the  Father  of  lights, 
and  the  God  of  all  consolation.  Is  your  heart.  Christian,  hum- 
bled under  a  sense  of  sin  ?  Are  you  refreshed  with  the  hopes 
and  comforts  of  the  gospel  ?  Are  you  animated  to  duty  and 
obedience  ?  And  are  you  made  patient  of  affliction  and  suffering  ? 
Does  the  "word  preached  profit  you  ?  so  that,  on  some  occasions 
especially,  you  are  remarkably  cheerful  and  vigorous  in  your 
attendance  on  holy  ordinances,  and  can  say  with  Peter,  inflamed 
with  the  love  of  God,  and  enlivened  with  his  gracious  presence, 
It  is  good  to  he  here.  Are  you,  in  a  word,  made  wiser,  happier, 
and  better,  by  religious  duties  ?  It  is  owing  to  the  grace  of  Godj 
to  these  dews  that  descend  from  the  everlasting  hills. 

Secondly,  The  dew  is  a  natural  and  fit  emblem  of  the  in- 
rfuences  of  the  Spirit,  in  regard  of  the  manner  in  ivhich  it  falls 
upon  the  earth.  This  is  very  remarkable,  and  doubtless  one 
main  reason  of  the  comparison.  It  descends  gradually — imper- 
ceptibly— seasonably — and  sometimes  very  plentifidly. 

1.  It  is  remarkable  of  the  dew  that  it  falls  gradually.  It 
comes  down,  not  like  the  rain  in  heavy  showers,  with  impetuous 
violence,  carrying  every  thing  before  it,  but  in  an  easy,  soft, 
and  gentle  manner.  This  idea  Moses  adopts  when  he  says, 
My  speech  shall  distil  as  the  deii\  and  as  the  small  rain  upon 
the  tender  herb  a.  So,  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  are  gradual 
in  their  communication,  and  many  times  very  soft  and  gentle  in 
their  operations  on  the  heart.  It  is  by  degrees  usually  that 
men  are  converted  from  sin  to  God.  And  you  hardly  need  be 
told,  that  in  regard  of  those  who  are  converted,  there  are  degrees 
'  n  Deut.  xxxii.  2. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  291 

of  grace.  To  this  purpose  we  read  of  children,  young  men, 
and  fathers,  in  Christ;  of  plants  and  cedars  in  the  church  of 
God ;  of  the  weak  in  faith — the  tender  and  feeble-minded,  and 
those  who  are  strong  in  faith  giving  glory  to  God.  And,  as 
thus,  improvements  in  religion  are  gradual,  so  are  those  in- 
fluences, we  may  reasonably  conclude,  by  which  such  improve- 
ments are  made.  It  is  step  by  step  that  God  leads  on  his  peo- 
ple, many  of  them,  to  farther  and  nobler  attainments  in  the  di- 
vine life.  Their  knowledge,  faith,  hope,  love  and  joy,  receive 
fresh  accession  of  strength  and  vigour,  from  the  blessing  and 
influence  of  Heaven,  on  means  appointed  to  that  end.  Their 
corruptions  are  gradually  weakened  and  subdued,  and,  like  the 
Canaanites,  are  driven  out  by  little  and  little.  They  are  formed 
by  various  exercises  into  the  divine  likeness,  and  by  degrees 
made  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. 
Numerous  passages,  were  there  occasion,  I  might  cite,  both  to 
prove  and  illustrate  this. 

Like  the  dew,  these  influences  are  also  soft  and  gentle  in 
their  operation.  Their  efficacy  is  indeed  sometimes  expressed 
in  striking  language,  and  by  bold*  and  lively  images.  So  we 
read  of  the  exceediyig  greatness,  or  hyperbole  «,  of  God's  power 
towards  them  who  believe,  according  to  the  working  or  the  en- 
ergy b  of  his  mighty  power.  So  the  prophet  speaks  of  the  word 
of  the  Lord  being  afire  to  melt  and  a  hammer  c  to  break  the 
hard  heart :  and  the  apostle,  of  its  being  quick  and  powerfid,  and 
sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing 
asunder  of  the  soul  and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow  d. 
But  here,  these  influences  are  represented  as  gently  insinuating 
themselves  into  the  heart,  like  the  dew  into  the  ground.  The 
kingdom  of  God  cometh  icithout  observation  :  and,  however  some 
may  talk  of  rapturous  joys,  ecstatic  visions,  and  violent  agitations 
of  the  mind,  it  is,  I  believe,  in  this  more  soft  and  rational  way 
that  Christians  are  usually  inclined,  and  prompt  to  that  which 
is  good.  The  grace  of  God  we  may  consider  as  mingling  itself, 
and  that  in  a  manner,  as  1  shall  hereafter  shew  you,  impercep- 
tible to  us,  with  the  reasonings,  persuasions,  and  motives  of  his 
word,  and  so  making  them  effectual.     And  hence  we  frequently 

a  Ta  u-rsjfaXXav.  b  Kara  rnv  sus^yftosv,— Eph.  i.    19. 

c  Jer.  xxiii.  2d.  d  Heb.  iv.  12. 

T  2 


292  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

in  Scripture,  meet  with  the  soft  expressions  of  inclining,  draw- 
ing, leading  and  alluring.  Happy  they  who  know  what  these 
operations  mean — know  them  I  mean  by  the  effects  they  pro- 
duce in  the  mind  !  Are  your  hearts,  Christians,  at  any  time 
melted,  and  your  afi'octions  moved  with  the  great  considerations 
of  religion  ?  And  are  your  wills  sweetly  inclined  to  the  choice, 
and  cordially  determined  to  the  pursuit  of  spiritual  and  divine 
objects?  Such  is  the  kindly  influence  of  this  dew  that  comes 
down  from  above. 

2.  It  falls  in  a  very  insensible  and  iviperceptihle  manner.  It 
is  not  like  the  rain  which  may  be  seen,  or  the  drops  which  may 
be  distinguished  from  each  other ;  but  a  kind  of  mist  which  is 
hardly  to  be  perceived  but  by  its  effects.  In  like  manner  the 
grace  of  God,  or  the  power  which  influences  the  heart,  is  scarce- 
ly to  be  known  or  apprehended,  but  by  its  effects.  It  is  with, 
as  well  as  upon  the  mind  that  the  Holy  Spirit  operates.  There 
are  no  new  faculties  given  us,  only  they  are  led  and  directed  to 
their  proper  objects.  And  the  hand  or  power  that  docs  this  is 
to  us  invisible,  just  as  it  is  with  the  motions  of  the  body ;  though 
they  are  all  of  them  directed  by  the  will,  or  by  some  thought 
that  passes  in  the  mind,  yet  these  springs  of  action  are  seldom, 
if  ever,  perceived  or  regarded.  And  hence  it  is  that  the  in- 
fluences of  the  Spirit  are  so  frequently,  in  Scripture,  compared 
to  the  wind :  the  operation  of  which,  however  certain  the  fact 
is  that  the  wind  blows,  hath  puzzled  the  ingenuity  of  theacutest 
philosophers.  So  you  know  our  Saviour  says,  discoursing  on 
this  very  subject  to  Nicodemus,  The  wind  bloweth  wlwre  it 
lisfeth,  awJ  thou  hearest  the  sotmd  thereof^  hut  canst  not  tell 
whence  it  cometh,  and  whither  it  gotth  ,-  so  is  every  one  that  is 
born  of  the  Spirit  a.  And  to  much  the  same  purpose  is  what 
the  blind  man  in  the  gospel  said  to  the  Jews,  when  he  was  ques- 
tioned by  them  how  he  came  by  his  sight.  How  it  was  he  knew 
not,  but  this,  says  he,  I  know,  that  whereas  I  was  blind  now  I 
see  b. 

Now  this  being  the  case,  none  should  object  to  the  truth  of  this 
doctrine,  the  difficulty  of  fully  explaining  the  manner  of  it.  For 
as  well  might  a  man  deny,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  wind, 
because  he  cannot  clearly  investigate  the  nature  and  manner  of 

a  John  iii.  8.  b  John  ix.  25. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  293 

its  operation;  or  that  the  soul  and  body  are  united,  and  mutually 
act  upon  each  other,  because  he  cannot  give  a  satisfactory  ac- 
count to  an  inquisitive  mind  how  it  is.  Nor  should  the  serious 
Christian  distress  himself  with  unreasonable  fears,  that  he  hath 
not  enjoyed  these  influences,  because  he  cannot  tell  how  they 
are  exerted,  and  in  what  manner  they  take  effect,  or  because 
he  cannot  talk  so  confidently  of  Divine  impulses,  as  some  vain 
and  presumptuous  persons  may  affect  to  do.  If  we  possess  in 
any  degree  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  we  may  safely  attribute  them 
to  his  agency,  though  we  know  not  exactly  how  they  were  com- 
municated to  us.     Again, 

3.  As  the  dew  falls  thus  gradually  and  imperceptibly,  so  like- 
wise most  seasonably.  The  wisdom  of  providence  herein  is  very 
observable,  though  the  fact  may  be  accounted  for  upon  natural 
principles.  At  morning  and  night  it  descends  upon  the  earth ; 
and  at  those  seasons  of  the  year,  when  it  is  most  wanted,  and 
when  the  ground  is  in  the  fittest  state  to  receive  it.  Were  it 
to  fall  in  the  day,  (supposing  that  would  consist  with  the  heat 
of  the  sun),  it  would  rather  injure  the  earth  than  refresh  it, 
especially  the  tender  plants  and  flowers  of  the  garden.  And  so 
as  to  those  parts  of  the  world  where  it  falls  in  the  greatest  abun- 
dance ;  it  is  most  frequent  when  there  is  no  rain,  and  when  the 
fruits  of  the  ground  would  absolutely  perish  and  die  without  it. 
The  like  may,  with  greater  admiration  and  thankfulness,  be 
remarked  of  the  influences  of  divine  grace.  These  God  bestows 
on  whom  he  will,  and  at  what  time  he  pleases  ;  yet  in  dispens- 
ing them  he  displays,  as  well  his  wisdom  and  prudence,  as  his 
generosity  and  kindness.  With  respect  to  the  church  in  ge- 
neral. Who  that  reflects  on  the  state  of  things  in  the  first  ages 
of  the  gospel,  but  must  be  struck  with  the  importance  and  sea- 
sonableness  of  that  extraordinary  effusion  of  the  Spirit  which 
distinguished  those  early  times  ?  So  were  the  apostles  qualified 
for  the  eminent  service  to  which  they  were  called  ;  so  were  they 
made  superior  to  all  that  mighty  opposition  they  met  with  ;  and 
so  were  their  labours  crowned  with  a  degree  of  success  that  is 
almost  incredible.  And  if  we  review  the  history  of  the  church 
in  later  times,  we  shall  see  wise  and  important  reasons  for  those 
remarkable  appearances  of  the  divine  influence  and  griice,  with 
which  some  ages  and  countries  have  been  favoured  above  others. 


294  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

When  the  scorching  beams  of  persecution  have,  to  appearance, 
nearly  burnt  up  the  profession  of  the  true  reHgion,  these  dews 
have  descended  in  large  abundance  ;  so  that  it  hath  grown  and 
spread  and  flourished,  amidst  the  utmost  efforts  of  its  enemies 
to  consume  and  destroy  it. 

And  the  like  may  be  observed  as  to  the  experience  of  private 
Christians.  How  seasonable  those  influences  which  were  ex- 
cited. Sirs,  for  your  conversion  to  God  at  first ! — a  time  that, 
when,  if  God  had  not  thus  interposed  in  your  favour,  speedy 
ruin  had  perhaps  been  your  lot.  How  seasonable  those  influ- 
ences, which  refreshed  and  comforted  you  in  the  day  of  your  dis- 
tress, when  your  hearts  were  ready  to  faint  within  you,  and  your 
thirsty  souls  panted  for  divine  consolation  ?  How  seasonable 
the  dew  of  your  youth  a,  which  made  you  lively  and  vigorous  in 
the  service  of  God  !  and  those  dews  which  have  many  times 
since  fallen  upon  you,  under  the  ministration  of  the  gospel,  in 
your  attendance  upon  holy  ordinances,  and  when  you  have  been 
exposed  to  some  imminent  danger  and  affliction  of  an  outward 
kind  !  In  a  word,  as  you  cannot  but  remember,  so  neither  can 
you  help  admiring,  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God,  in  water- 
ing you  with  his  heavenly  graces,  when  the  fair  leaves  of  your 
profession  have  begun  to  wither,  the  fruit  to  decay,  and  the  in- 
terest of  religion  to  decline  and  die  away  in  your  souls  ! — So 
seasonable  are  these  influences  !   Once  more, 

4.  The  great  plenty  and  abundance  in  which  the  dew  falls  on 
the  earth,  in  certain  places,  and  at  particular  seasons  especially, 
is  another  circumstance  worthy  of  notice  in  the  parallel  we  are 
here  running.  When  Hushai,  the  friend  of  David,  describes 
the  great  numbers  he  would  have  led  out  into  the  field  against 
the  enemy,  and  the  mighty  execution  they  would  do,  he  com- 
pares them  to  the  dew:  So  shall  we  light  upon  him,  says  he, 
as  the  dew  falleth  upon  the  ground  b.  To  the  same  purpose,  the 
psalmist  uses  this  figure,  when  he  would  express  the  multitude 
of  converts,  which  should  flock  in  to  Christ  in  the  days  of  the 
gospel :  Thy  people  shall  he  willing  in  the  day  of  thy  power,  in 
the  beauties  of  holiness  from  the  womb  of  the  morning :  thou  hast 
the  dew  of  thy  youth  c.  The  atoms  indeed,  or  parts  of  which 
the  dew  is  formed,  are  very  small  and  imperceptible  to  the  eye ; 
a  Psal.  ex.  3.  6  2  Sam.  xvii.  12,  c  Psal.  ex.  3. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  295 

yet  they  are  very  thick,  come  down  in  great  abundance,  and 
cover  all  the  ground. 

So  we  may  observe  of  the  grace  of  God,  there  is  a  rich  abuu- 
<]ance  of  it — A  fulness  in  Christ :  and  it  is  largely  dispensed  to 
Christians — They  receive,  and  grace  for  grace  a.  No  supply 
of  art  or  nature  can  equal  that  of  the  dew.  The  water  the 
gardener  pours  upon  the  plants,  can  reach  but  a  little  way,  and. 
is  very  soon  exhausted  :  but  the  dew  from  the  heavens,  is  a  con- 
iinual  source  of  nourishment  to  the  earth,  and  does  that  in  one 
morning,  which  the  toil  of  many  weeks  and  months  cannot  ef- 
fect. Thus,  how  rich,  how  large,  how  suitable  are  the  dews  of 
divine  grace  !  Without  them  all  our  labour  is  vain ;  but  with 
them,  as  will  be  presently  shewn,  we  shall  grow  and  bring  forth 
fruit.  They  are  also  ever  ready  to  be  showered  on  the  Chris- 
tian in  a  time  of  need:  for  as  they  are  of  divine  contrivance  and 
appointment,  God  will  not  fail  to  grant  them,  when  they  arc 
wanted  and  sought.  The  fountainJikewise  whence  they  pro- 
ceed is  inexhaustible.  Notwithstanding  the  rich  abundance  of 
these  influences  which  have  been  shed  upon  the  people  of  God, 
in  every  age,  and  in  various  parts  jf  the  world,  there  is  still  the 
same  supply  at  hand.  Like  the  Israelites,  we  may  go  every 
morning  out  of  the  camp,  and  find  this  dew  upon  the  ground 
and  manna  therein  h.  Let  us  come  boldly,  says  the  apostle,  to 
the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain  mercy  and  find  grace  to 
help  in  time  of  need  c. 

Thus,  as  the  dew  falls  upon  the  earth  gradually — impercep' 
tibly — seasonably — and  plentifully,  so  do  the  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  descend  upon  the  Christian. 

PART  II. 

We  have  seen  how  properly  the  dew,  in  regard  of  its  origin 
and  manner  of  descent,  is  an  emblem  of  the  influences  of  divine 
grace.     And  we  proceed  now, 

Thirdly,  To  consider  its  use. 

The  dew  is  sent  to  refresh  the  ground  and  make  it  fruitful. 
To  this  the  fields,  the  trees,  the  plants,  the  flowers,  owe  their 
verdure,  their  beauty,  their  sweetness,  and  their  fruitfulness. 
All  which  is  with  great  softness  and  elegance  described  in  the 

c  Johoi.  16.  b  £xod.  xvi.  12 — 15.  c  Heb.  iv.  16. 


296  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION. 

verses  that  immediately  follow  the  text.  Nature  we  here  see 
dressed  in  all  her  glory,  and  the  eye,  the  smell,  the  taste,  are 
gratified  with  the  most  pleasing  sensations.  The  growth  of  the 
lily,  the  stateliness  of  the  cedar,  the  beauty  of  the  olive,  the 
verdure  of  the  fir,  the  revival  of  the  corn,  the  cheering  fruit  of 
the  vine,  and  the  aromatic  scent  of  Lebanon,  are  all  attributed 
to  the  dew.  From  which  description,  applied  to  the  subject  be- 
fore us,  we  may  naturally  collect  these  several  effects  of  the  di- 
vine influences — refreshment  and  comfort. — confirmation  and  es- 
tablishment—fruitfulness  and  usefulness — beauty  and  glory. 

1.  Divine  comfort  and  refreshment  is  one  happy  effect  of  these 
spiritual  and  heavenly  influences.  He  shall  revive  as  the  corUf 
says  the  seventh  verse,  and  his  scent  shall  be  as  the  wine  of 
Lebanon.  The  corn,  you  know,  dies  ere  it  lives  a.  It  is  buried 
in  the  ground,  and  lies  there  a  considerable  time,  as  it  were  lost 
and  gone.  But  by  the  influence  of  the  dew  and  the  sun  it  re- 
vives, shoots  out  from  under  the  thick  clod,  and  promises  a  large 
and  fair  crop.  Hence,  the  prophet  Isaiah,  speaking  of  the  last 
resurrection,  when  the  body  shall  spring  up  from  the  grave,  like 
the  corn  out  of  the  ground,  thus  expresseth  it,  '  Thy  dew  is  as 
the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth  shall  cast  out  the  dead  6.'  So, 
all  the  vigour  and  sprightliness  that  appears  in  the  young  plants 
in  spring,  all  the  gaiety  and  cheerfulness  of  their  clothing,  and 
all  the  sweet  fragrance  with  which  they  perfume  the  air,  is  the 
effect  of  these  soft  showers.  The  smell  of  Lebanon  must  have 
been  exceeding  sweet,  as  there  grew  the  frankincense  and  aro- 
raatics  of  the  most  exquisite  scent ;  and  the  wines  that  came 
thence  were  of  the  most  delicious  flavour,  and  generous  in- 
fluence. 

Now,  as  all  this  sweetness,  savour  and  refreshment  is  the  pro- 
duce of  the  dew,  so  that  rich  consolation  which  Christians  some- 
times enjoy  in  religious  duties,  amidst  outward  afflictions,  and  in 
the  near  views  of  an  eternal  world,  is  the  effect  of  divine  in- 
fluences. The  comforts  of  religion  do  indeed  arise  out  of  con- 
siderations, hopes  and  prospects  which  are  most  rational,  and 
justly  adapted  to  inspire  the  heart  with  them.  Nevertheless 
they  are  at  the  disposal,  and  under  the  control  of  the  blessed 
Spirit,  and  when  they  take  hold  of  the  heart,  so  as  effectually  to 
a  1  Cor.  XV.  36.       .  b  Isa.  xxvi.  19. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  297 

refresh  and  cheev  it,  they  are  to  be  ascribed  to  his  gracious 
energy  and  operation.  And  O  !  how  reviving  are  those  com- 
forts which  spring  from  a  humble  confidence  that  our  sins  are 
forgiven,  from  a  well-grounded  sense  of  the  favour  and  love  of 
God,  and  from  a  satisfactory  hope  of  everlasting  salvation  in  a 
future  world  !  If  the  king's  wrath,  as  Solomon  observes,  is  as 
the  roaring  of  a  lion,  his  favour  is  as  dew  upon  the  grass  a. 
How  cheering  are  these  soft  and  gentle  rains,  after  a  long  and 
sad  season  of  barrenness  !  How  enlivening  these  beams  of  di- 
vine light  and  heat,  after  a  dark  and  cold  night  of  affliction  ! 
When  Godgiveth  quietness,  who  can  make  trouble  b  ?  When  he 
speaketh  peace,  all  is  joy  and  gladness  within.  This  makes  du- 
ties easy,  sufferings  tolerable,  and  the  common  enjoyments  of 
life  doubly  cheerful  and  agreeable. 

2.  Establishment  and  confirmation  is  another  happy  effect  of 
the  divine  influences  on  the  heart.  T.  he  dew  causes  Lebanon, 
that  is,  the  cedars  of  it,  to  cast  forth  their  roots  c.  These  trees, 
for  which  mount  Libanus  hath  ever  been  famous,  are  remarkable 
for  their  height,  strength  and  durableness.  Their  roots  strike 
deep  into  the  earth,  and  spread  far  around,  so  that  the  wind  can 
have  but  little  if  any  power  over  them.  Thus  also  the  influences 
of  divine  grace  do  not  only  refresh  and  cheer  the  heart  of  a  Chris- 
tian, and  so  spread  cheerfulness  and  vigour  over  his  countenance, 
but  they  confirm  him  in  the  faith  and  practice  of  religion.  They 
cause  him  to  take  root  downwards,  as  well  as  to  grow  upwards. 
And  this  surely  is  a  very  desirable  blessing.  It  is  a  good  thing 
that  the  heart  be  established  with  graced,  that  is,  that  it  be  well 
grounded  in  the  essential  truths  of  religion,  and  be  disposed, 
upon  right  principles,  to  the  practice  of  its  several  duties. 

Scepticism,  or  a  continual  habit  of  doubting,  is  both  unplea- 
sant and  hurtful.  A  man  of  this  character,  is  ever  liable  to  be 
tossed  to  and  fro,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it,  with  every  wind  of 
doctrine,  by  the  sleight  of  men,  and  cunning  craftiness,  whereby 
they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive  e.  And  while  in  this  state,  the  effect 
of  which  is  usually  great  confusion  of  mind,  and  a  disagreeable 
agitation  of  the  passions,  he  will  neither  enjoy  himself,  nor  yet 
make  any  considerable  proficiency  in  acceptable  obedience.     In 

a  Prov.  xix.  12.  b  Job  xxxiv.  29.  c  Ver.  5. 

d  Heb.  xiii.  9.  e  Eph.  iv.  It. 


298  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

like  manner,  he  who  takes  the  great  truths  of  religion  for  grant- 
ed, but  enters  not  into  the  spirit  of  them,  though  he  may  escape 
many  of  those  disagreeable  anxieties  which  are  the  fruit  of 
scepticism,  yet  he  will  be  cold  and  languid  in  his  obedience,  and 
will  want  sufficient  ballast  within  himself,  to  keep  him  steady 
in  a  time  of  temptation  and  danger.  Or  however  he  may,  like 
him  in  the  parable  who  received  the  seed  in  stony  places,  hear 
the  word,  and  quickly  with  joy  receive  it ,-  yet,  not  having  root 
in  himself,  he  will  endure  hut  for  a  while  ;  for  when  tribulation 
or  persecution  ariseth  because  of  the  word,  he  will  by  and  by  be 
offended  a. 

Now,  on  the  contrary,  he  whose  judgment  is  fully  persuaded 
of  the  leading  truths  of  religion,  and  is  confirmed  therein  by 
their  correspondent  influence  on  his  temper,  (which  is  what  the 
apostle  John  means  by  the  Christian's  having  the  witness  in  him- 
self b,)  that  man  will  bid  fair  to  be  cheerful,  steady  and  uniform 
in  his  profession.  Feeling  his  religion  at  his  heart,  as  well  as 
being  convinced  of  it  upon  the  sound  principles  of  reason  and 
God's  word,  he  will  not  easily  question  its  truth.  It  will  neither 
be  in  the  power  of  infidelity  quickly  to  laugh  him  out  of  it,  nor 
of  the  threats  of  persecution  hastily  to  terrify  him  out  of  it.  Like 
the  cedar,  he  will  stand  firm  amidst  the  violent  storms  of  adver- 
sity, while  others  are  blown  away  as  stubble  before  the  wind. 
How  very  surprising  hath  been  the  steadiness,  resolution,  and 
perseverance  of  some  Christians  !  Many  instances  of  this  sort 
history  hath  recorded,  and  some  our  own  eyes  have  beheld. 
Nor  can  we  help  envying  the  men  of  this  character,  that  com- 
posure of  mind  they  usually  enjoy,  and  that  abiUty  and  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  good  which  they  commonly  possess  above  others. 

Now  this  confirmation  in  the  faith  and  love  of  the  truth,  is 
one  happy  effect  of  those  divine  influences  of  which  we  have 
been  discoursing,  for  it  is  by  them  the  Christian  is  led  into  the 
spirit  of  those  great  doctrines,  wherein  his  Bible  hath  instructed 
him;  and  from  thence  he  collects  this  strong  collateral  proof  of 
their  divinity.     Again, 

3.  Fruitfulness  is  another  main  end  for  which  the  influences 
of  divine  grace  are  afforded.     It  would  be  to  little  purpose  that 
the  ground  were  refreshed,  and  the  trees  and  plants  nourish- 
a  Matt.  xiii.  20,  21.  *  1  John  v.  10. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  299 

cd  by  the  falling  dew,  if  they  brought  not  forth  their  fruit  at 
the  proper  season.  The  revival  therefore  of  the  corn,  is  men- 
tioned with  a  view  to  the  crop  it  produces  in  harvest ;  and  the 
growth  of  the  vine,  to  the  clusters  with  which  the  hand  of  tlie 
gatherer  is  filled  in  autumn.  By  the  one  we  are  furnished  with 
bread,  which  is  the  staff  of  life,  and  by  the  other  with  wine, 
wliich  cheers  the  heart.  And  the  earth,  drinking  in  the  dew 
that  Cometh  oft  upon  it,  bringeth  forth  herbs  meet  for  them  by 
whom  it  is  dressed  a. 

So  with  respect  to  the  grace  of  God,  he  who  says  in  the  text, 
*  I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel,'  adds  in  a  verse  or  two  after- 
wards, '  From  me  is  thy  fruit  found.'  And  it  is  very  desirable 
and  useful  fruit  which  the  Christian,  under  the  influence  of  this 
grace,  produces ;  good  fruit — fruit  in  its  season — and  much  of 
it,  either  thirty,  sixty,  or  an  hundred-fold  b.  The  great  princi- 
ples of  religion  are  not  dry,  useless  speculations :  nor  is  it  for 
trifling  purposes  that  the  blessed  God  is  at  such  expence,  by  bis 
word,  his  providence,  and  his  Spirit,  to  cultivate  the  barren 
hearts  of  men.  If  there  be  any  worth,  any  excellence,  any 
utility,  in  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness, 
faith,  meekness,  temperance,  these,  the  apostle  assures  us,  are 
the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  c.  And  they  do  exist,  not  in  imagina- 
tion only,  but  in  reality  and  truth. 

Look  among  your  acquaintance,  and  here  and  there  you  will 
find  a  man,  in  whose  temper  and  life  these  graces  are  exemplified 
— a  Christian,  who,  though  he  is  not  free  from  human  frailties, 
and  though  he  may  not  enjoy  always  the  same  even  cheerful 
frame  of  mind,  yet  is  conscientious  and  uniform  in  his  deport- 
ment, and  aims  at  pleasing  God,  and  serving  his  generation.  A 
Christian,  of  whom,  if  I  were  more  particularly  to  describe 
him,  I  should  say,  that  he  is  serious  and  regular  in  his  religious 
duties,  diligent  and  honest  in  his  civil  concerns,  sincere  and 
faithful  in  his, friendships — that  he  is  temperate  in  the  use  of 
worldly  enjoyments,  contented  in  the  station  Providence  hath 
assigned  him,  and  patient  under  the  trials  and  afflictions  of  life 
— that  he  hath  the  government  of  his  own  spirit,  not  living  in 
strife  and  contention,  but  meekness  and  love ;  not  apt  to  be  cen- 
sorious, but  candid  and  charitable  ;  not  puffed  up  with  pride  and 

a  Heb.  vi,  7.  b  Mark  iv.  20.  c  Gal.  v.  21. 


300  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

vanity,  but  of  a  humble  and  condescending  temper — that  *  he 
seeks  not  his  own  things,  but  the  things  of  others,'  feels  the 
distresses  of  the  afflicted,  rejoices  in  every  opportunity  of  doing 
good,  and,  in  a  word,  makes  the  glory  of  God,  and  a  conformity 
to  his  will,  the  scope  and  end  of  his  actions.  This  is  the  man 
on  whose  heart  the  refreshing  dews  of  divine  grace  descend; 
and  such  are  the  fruits,  the  substantial  fruits,  which  every  one 
who  is  blessed  with  these  influences,  will,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  produce.     Which  leads  me  to  speak, 

4.  And  lastly,  of  that  beauty  and  glory  which  religion,  thus 
flourishing  under  a  superior  influence,  puts  upon  the  real 
Christian.  How  fair  is  the  countenance,  how  cheerful  the  as- 
pect which  nature  assumes,  when  refreshed  with  the  morning 
dew,  and  gladdened  with  the  rising  sun  ?  especially  in  the  spring, 
when  the  fields,  the  plants  and  the  flowers,  are  dressed  in  their 
ricTiest  clothing;  and  in  autumn,  when  the  corn  bows  its  head 
to  the  reapers,  and  the  trees  wish  to  be  disburdened  of  their 
fruit.  There  is  something  amazingly  enlivening  in  these  rural 
prospects;  and  not  only  so,  but  they  impress  ideas  of  beauty 
and  greatness  on  the  mind,  which  are  sure  to  produce  answer- 
able affections  of  admiration  and  wonder. 

In  like  manner,  the  presence,  the  dress,  the  deportment  of  a 
real  Christian,  I  mean  his  genuine  temper  and  conduct,  cannot 
fail  of  captivating  the  attention  and  esteem  of  good  men,  and 
commanding  respect  and  awe  from  even  the  wicked  themselves. 
The  grace  of  God  adds  a  comeliness  to  the  appearance,  and 
stamps  a  dignity  upon  the  character  of  a  man,  that  nothing  else 
•whatsoever  can  do.  Who  can  forbear  being  struck  with  the 
native  simplicity,  the  humble  boldness,  and  the  unaffected  cheer- 
fulness, which  sit  upon  his  countenance  in  whose  heart  the  com- 
forts of  religion  abound  ?  His  face  shines.  His  beauty  is  like 
the  olive  tree.  His  smell  as  Lebanon.  The  fragrance  of  his 
graces  is  like  the  precious  ointment  upon  the  head  of  Aaron^  that 
ran  down  his  heard^  and  mingled  with  the  skirts  of  his  garments. 
It  is  like  t/ie  dew  of  Herman,  the  dew  that  descended  upon  the 
mountains  of  Sion,  where  the  Lord  commanded  the  blessing, 
even  life  for  evermore  a. 

«  Fsal.  cxxxiii.  2,  3. 


THE  FRUIT  OF  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  SOI 

What  ornament  so  fair  and  beautiful  as  that  of  a  meek  and 
<|uiet  spirit — a  mind  endued  with  patience  and  contentment, 
with  benevolence  and  love  ?  Not  all  the  adorning  of  broidered 
hair,  of  gold,  of  pearls,  of  costly  array,  is  to  be  once  mentioned 
with  good  works.  These  outvie  them,  just  as  the  lilies  of  the 
field  do  Solomon  in  all  his  glory.  How  graceful,  in  a  word, 
how  becoming  is  their  behaviour,  v.'ho,  having  been  with  Jesus 
and  learned  of  him,  aim  to  walk  in  his  steps  and  imitate  his 
example  !  *  Whatsoever  things  arc  true,  whatsoever  things  are 
lionest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 
whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  re- 
port, on  these  they  think,'  and  these  they  endeavour  to  prac- 
tise a.  And  surely,  '  if  there  be  any  virtue,  if  there  be  any 
praise  ;'  such  fruits  of  Divine  grace  cannot  but  reflect  real  ho- 
nour upon  the  Christian,  interest  him  deeply  in  the  affections 
of  those  who  truly  fear  God,  and  fix  a  conviction  of  the  truth 
of  reliifion  on  the  consciences  of  all  sober  observers. 

Thus  have  we  seen  how  just  and  natural  an  emblem  the  dew 
is  of  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  regard  of  its  origin, 
the  manner  in  ichich  it  falls,  and  its  use.  Which  leads  me,  as 
was  proposed, 

II.  To  make  some  suitable  improvement  of  the  whole. 

1.  Does  this  dew  come  down  from  God  ?  Of  him  then  let 
us  earnestly  seek  it,  and  to  him  let  us  offer  our  humble  thanks 
for  it.  The  faith  of  this  doctrine  is  one  principal  ground  of 
prayer,  and  is  a  mighty  incentive  to  it.  For  who  is  there  thaf 
truly  believes  in  the  divine  influences,  and  is  thoroughly  sensi- 
ble of  their  importance  to  the  great  purposes  of  the  divine  life, 
but  will  ardently  implore  them  ?  especially  while  he  keeps  in 
view  that  exceeding  precious  promise  of  the  Bible,  that  God 
will  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  b.  Let  us  la- 
bour therefore  as  much  as  possible,  to  fix  a  conviction  of  this  great 
truth  on  our  minds,  and  to  cherish  there  a  sense  of  the  infi- 
nite utility  and  indeed  indispensable  necessity  of  it.  So  let  us 
make  our  daily  and  fervent  addresses  to  Heaven,  having  our  eye 
directed  to  the  mediation  of  Christ,  and  to  the  merit  of  his  death, 
whereby  he  hath  obtained  the  Holy  Spirit  for  us.  Nor  let  us 
forget,  having  received  an  answer  in  any  degree  to  our  prayers, 
a  rhil.  iv.  8.  b  Luke  xi.  13. 


302  IMPROVEMENT  IN  RELIGION 

to  be  truly  thankful.  It  is  indeed  scarce  possible  we  should ; 
for  it  is  the  very  nature  of  the  blessing  bestowed  to  enflame  the 
heart  with  gratitude  and  praise.  And  there  are  no  fitter  ways 
of  expressing  our  sense  of  the  high  honour  and  privilege  which 
is  thus  conferred  on  us,  than  by  cordially  professing -our  faith  in 
the  doctrine  itself,  and  preserving  a  holy  caution  in  our  beha- 
viour that  we  act  not  unworthy  of  it. 

2,  Though  we  receive  this  dew  from  above,  let  us  not  expect 
it  but  in  the  way  of  duty.  If  we  do,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  we  are  disappointed.  Nay  so  unreasonable  a  temper  as 
this  furnishes  too  plain  a  proof,  that  we  have  wrong  conceptions 
of  the  doctrine  itself,  if  indeed  we  may  be  said  to  have  any  faith  ■ 
at  all  in  it.  For  how  is  it  possible  I  should  have  a  genuine 
confidence  in  this  great  truth,  while  at  the  same  time,  by  living 
in  the  wilful  neglect  of  appointed  duties,  I  dare  affront  that 
very  authority  which  hath  revealed  it  in  the  sacred  Scriptures  ? 
Men  are  therefore  deceiving  themselves,  amidst  all  the  zeal  they 
would  seem  to  express  for  the  influence  and  operation  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  if  this  be  the  unhappy  effect  it  pi'oduccs.  They 
imagine  they  believe  it,  while  they  really  do  not  frame  any  pro- 
per idea  about  it,  act  unworthy  of  it,  and  are  in  effect  enemies 
to  it.  Much  more  easily  should  I  apprehend  that  man  to  be  a 
real  believer  in  the  doctrine  of  providence,  who  regularly  pur- 
sues the  duty  of  his  calling,  though  he  talks  not  much  about 
his  faith ;  than  I  should  give  credit  to  his  loud  professions  of 
fconfidence  in  Divine  providence,  who  all  the  while  lives  in  in- 
dolence and  sloth.  No.  As  the  right  faith  of  a  providence 
will  excite  men  to  diligence  in  their  stations,  so  will  faith  in  the 
divine  influences  excite  Christians  to  the  duties  of  their  profes- 
sion. The  ground  must  be  cultivated,  and  the  vine  pruned,  as 
well  as  the  dew  be  expected  to  water  them,  and  the  sun  to  re- 
fresh and  cheer  them.  In  like  manner,  we  are  to  ivork  out  our 
salvation  icithfear  and  trembling,  while  God  worketh  in  us  to 
will  and  to  do  after  his  good  pleasure  a  :  and  to  labour  ft)r  the 
meat  that  endureth  unto  everlasting  lift,  v.liile  we  are  firmly 
persuaded  that  it  is  the  Son  of  man  alone  who  can  give  it  unto 
us  b. 

3.  How  vain  are  all  their  pretences  to  a  large  experience  of 
these  dews  of  Divine  grace,  who  bring  forth  no  suitable  fruit  in 
a  Phil.  ii.  12,  13.  h  John  vi.  27. 


THE  FRUIT  OP  A  DIVINE  INFLUENCE.  303 

their  lives  !  We  should  deem  it  an  afFront  to  our  reason  to  be 
told,  that  this  or  that  tree  which  is  totally  fruitless,  and  hath  no 
appearance  of  life  in  it,  is  nevertheless  refreshed  by  the  falling 
rain  and  cherished  by  the  enlivening  sun.  No  less  an  afFront 
do  they  offer  to  the  understandings  of  those  about  them,  who 
would  confidently  face  them  down  with  bold  assurances,  that 
they  are  under  a  superior  influence,  and  enjoy  pleasures  which 
others  are  strangers  to ;  while  at  the  same  time  scarce  any  of 
the  fruits  of  truth,  righteousness  and  purity,  or  however  of  hu- 
mility, meekness  and  love,  appear  in  their  lives.  '  By  their 
fruits,'  says  our  Lord,  '  shall  ye  know  them :  do  men  gather 
grapes  of  thorns  or  figs  of  thistles  a  ?'  And  this  shews  how  lit- 
tle ground  there  is  for  that  common  objection  against  this  doc- 
trine, which  is  taken  from  the  proneness  of  many  persons  to 
abuse  it.  For  the  rule  our  Lord  lays  down  furnishes  sufficient 
means  to  prevent  any  such  mistake.  Be  assured,  O  vain  man, 
if  this  be  your  character,  you  are  under  the  grossest  deception ; 
and  the  consequence  will  be  most  fatal,  if  your  eyes  are  not 
opened,  nor  you  in  due  time  brought  to  repentance.  On  the 
other  hand, 

4.  Let  the  humble  serious  timorous  Christian  be  comforted 
— the  Christian  whose  concern  it  is  to  bring  forth  the  fruits  of 
the  Spirit,  though  through  many  discouragements  he  is  some- 
times ready  to  question  whether  he  is  the  happy  subject  of  divine 
influence.  Is  it  your  aim  to  mortify  every  evil  passion  and  eor- 
ruption,  and  to  cultivate  every  Christian  grace  and  virtue?  to 
maintain  communion  with  Heaven  in  the  several  institutions  of 
religion  ? — and  to  fill  up  the  station  in  which  Providence  hath 
placed  you,  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  others?  And 
amidst  all,  do  you  readily  acknowledge  yourself  an  unprofitable 
servant,  and  rely  entirely  on  the  divine  mercy,  through  the 
mediation  and  righteousness  of  Christ  ?  I  may  be  bold  to  afiirm 
from  the  authority  of  Scripture,  that  unerring  standard  of  truth, 
that  you  have  been  watered  with  these  dews  from  the  everlast- 
ing hills,  and  that  it  is  from  thence  your  fruit  is  found.  Yield 
not  to  the  doubts  which  Satan,  which  unbelief,  or  which  timidity 
of  natural  constitution  may  suggest.  God  had  not  shewn  you 
the  things  you  have  seen,  nor  enabled  you  to  present  to  him 
«  Matt.  vii.  16. 


304.  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

the  sacrifice  of  a  broken  heart,  if  he  had  designed  to  have  de- 
stroyed you.  He  is  faithful  who  hath  promised — A  bruised 
reed  he  will  not  break,  and  smoking  Jlax  he  will  not  quenchy 
till  he  send  forth  judgment  to  victory  a.  Now  indeed  you  sow 
in  tears,  but  you  shall  quickly  reap  in  joy.  Now  you  go  forth 
and  weep,  bearing  precious  seed,  but  you  shall  doubtless  come 
again  rejoicing,  bringing  your  sheaves  with  you  b.  And  how 
unspeakable, 

5.  And  lastly,  will  be  the  bliss  and  glory  of  the  heavenly  world, 
where  the  effects  of  these  divine  influences  of  which  we  have 
been  discoursing,  shall  be  enjoyed  in  their  utmost  perfection  ! 
The  paradise  of  God  above  is  ever  fair  and  green,  ever  fragrant 
and  fruitful.  It  is  watered  with  the  streams  of  that  '  river  clear 
as  crystal,  which  proceedeth  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  the 
Lamb.'  And  it  flourishes  under  the  soft  and  healing  beams  of 
the  sun  of  righteousness,  which  ever  shines  upon  it.  The  cli- 
mate is  healthful  and  pleasant.  The  spring  abides.  The  plants 
none  of  them  languish  and  die,  none  of  them  fade  or  lose  any 
of  their  beauty  and  sweetness.  They  bring  forth  their  fruits 
in  season — the  living  fruits  of  peace,  and  love,  and  joy.  And 
God,  the  inexhaustible  fountain  of  srood,  is  all  and  in  all. 


DISCOURSE  XIII. 


THE  USE  OF  RELIGION  IN  A  TIME  OF 
AFFLICTION. 

Psalm  xlvi.  10. — Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God. 

KJf  all  the  lessons  a  Christian  hath  to  learn  none  is  so  difficult, 
as  submission  to  the  will  of  God  under  affliction.  Not  that  the 
duty  itself  is  hard  to  be  explained  or  understood. — Far  from  it. 
What  God  requires  of  us  in  these  circumstances  is  easy  to  be 
apprehended :  the  difficulty  lies  in  the  practice  of  it.  And 
a  Matt.  xii.  20.  b  PsaL  cxxvi.  5,  6. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  303 

that  the  difficulty  is  very  great,  appears  not  only  from  the  tes- 
timony of  the  wisest  and  best  men  who  have  been  exercised 
with  severe  trials,  but  from  the  reason  of  the  thing. 

A  desire  of  happiness  is  the  first  and  leading  principle  in  the 
human  breast.  It  is  the  hinge  upon  which  our  whole  frame 
turns :  the  pulse  of  the  soul :  and  the  spring  of  all  its  actions. 
It  is  placed  upon  the  throne  of  our  hearts,  to  direct  and  in- 
fluence our  conduct.  And  it  is  so  deeply  rivetted  in  our  nature, 
that  no  force  whatever  can  tear  it  thence.  Which  beine  the 
case,  it  follows  that  what  thwarts  or  opposes  this  desire  of  hap- 
piness, or  any  way  seems  to  have  that  tendency,  must  needs 
throw  the  mind  into  great  disorder,  and  become  a  trial  to  its  re- 
solution and  patience.  To  abstain  from  pleasure,  to  which  we 
are  so  strongly  impelled  by  this  principle,  is  hard  work ;  but  to 
endure  is  much  harder.  Nature  starts  back  at  the  approach  of 
pain:  it  shrinks  at  the  very  idea  of  it.  And  though  reason, 
unassisted  by  revelation,  may  attempt  to  reconcile  us  to  this  and 
the  other  affliction,  by  telling  us  that  what  cannot  be  avoided 
ought  to  be  quietly  endured,  and  that  our  pains  make  way  for 
our  pleasures,  and  serve  to  heighten  and  refine  them ;  yet  rea- 
son faulters  in  her  discourse,  and  for  want  of  sufficient  energy 
to  enforce  her  dictates,  often  fails  in  her  endeavours  to  controul 
the  tumultuous  passions  of  the  soul.  The  whole  stream  of  na- 
ture therefore  being  against  pain  and  affliction,  it  is  no  wonder 
that  patience,  whose  business  it  is  to  stem  the  tide,  and  to  allay 
the  storm,  should  be  so  difficult  to  be  practised. 

But,  what  farther  increases  the  difficulty  of  a  calm  submission 
to  affliction,  is  the  wretched  depravity  of  the  human  heart.  This 
put  into  the  scale  with  the  natural  aversion  we  feel  to  pain,  pre- 
ponderates almost  every  consideration  that  can  be  offered  to 
soothe  the  troubled  breast.  Pride,  passion  and  unbelief,  join- 
ing all  their  force  with  that  principle  of  happiness  I  have  been 
•speaking  of,  raise  such  a  tumult  in  the  mind  as  can  hardly  be 
imagined,  but  by  those  who  have  felt  it.  Patience  in  these  cir- 
cumstances seems  a  grace  absolutely  unattainable :  and  the 
€Ool,  faint  and  abstracted  reasoning  of  a  by-stander  has  little 
more  effect,  than  the  use  of  oars  to  a  boat  tossed  about  upon 
boisterous  waves,  which  every  moment  threaten  its  destruc- 
tion. , 

yoL.  I.  u 


(806  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

Now,  it  will  be  acknowledged,  these  things  considered,  that 
to  behave  with  meekness,  composure  and  firmness  of  mind  undeF 
grievous  and  pressing  afflictions,  is  a  task  too  arduous  to  be  per- 
formed without  superior  assistance.     The  great  utility  therefore 
of  religion  at  these  times,  is  a  subject  well  deserving  our  parti- 
cular consideration.     Religion  steps  in  to  the  aid  of  the  Chris- 
tian when  all  other  supports  fail.     And  what  gives  it  the  advan- 
tage above  the  reasonings  of  mere  nature,  is   that    it  comes 
clothed  with  divine  authority.     Its  voice  is  the  voice  of  God ; 
the  all-commanding  voice  of  him  who  hath  the  passions  of  the 
heart,  as  well  as  the  waves  of  the  sea,  at  his  direction  and  under 
his  controul — Be  still  and  know  that  I  am  God.     There  is  a 
majesty  in  this  language  that  is  inimitable.     It  is  like  that  of 
our  Saviour,  when  in  a  storm  with  his  disciples,  he  rebuked  the 
wind,  and  said  unto  the  sea,  Peace^  he  still ;   and  the  wind  in- 
stantly ceased,  and  there  was  a  great  calm  a.     And  that  it  hath 
had  the  like  effect  on  the  minds  of  many  in  the  depths  of  afflic- 
tion, hath  been  sufficiently  attested  by  Scripture  and  by  the  best 
of  men  in  every  age.     In  order  therefore  to  set  the  use  and 
importance  of  religion  at  such  a  time  in  their  proper  light,  let 
us  consider, 

I.  Our  duty  as  it  is  here  represented — Be  still. 

II.  Our  obligations  to  such  a  temper  and  conduct — /  am 
God.     And, 

III.  The  regard  which  religion  teaches,  and  divine  grace  ena- 
bles us  to  pay  to  these  considerations — Know  that  I  am  God. 

I.  I  am  to  explain  the  duty  of  the  afflicted  Christian  as  it  is 
here  represented — Be  still. 

It  is  a  figurative  kind  of  expression ;  and  supposes  some  ex- 
traordinary disorder  or  commotion  of  the  mind  and  spirits,  oc- 
casioned by  the  losses,  disappointments,  and  troubles  of  the  pre- 
sent life,  especially  when  they  come  suddenly  upon  us,  and  we 
are  unprepared  to  meet  them.  The  mind  is  hereby  wrought 
into  a  violent  agitation,  just  like  the  sea  when  a  tempest  arises. 
Innumerable  uneasy  thoughts,  painful  sensations,  and  ruffled 
passions,  perplex  and  distress  the  heart,  spread  a  gloom  over 
the  countenance,  disturb  our  usual  peace  and  serenity,  and  unfit 
us  both  for  action  and  enjoyment.  They  who  have  enduretl 
a  Mark  iv.  39. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  30? 

affliction  in  any  great  degree,  from  whatever  quarter  it  may  have 
arisen,  know  well  what  this  means.  And  by  putting  ourselves 
in  the  situation  of  persons  overwhelmed  with  this  or  that  parti- 
cular trouble,  we  may  easily  imagine,  though  not  perhaps  in  so 
feeling  a  manner  as  they,  what  this  state  of  the  mind  must  be. 
It  was  a  distressed  condition  the  good  old  patriarch  Jacob 
was  in,  when  the  sad  tidings  were  brought  him,  that  his  beloved 
son  Joseph  was  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts.  The  tenderest 
passions  of  his  breast  were  sensibly  touched.  He  rent  his 
clothes,  put  sackcloth  on  his  loins,  and  refused  to  be  comforted, 
saying,  I  will  go  down  into  the  grave  unto  my  son  mourning  a. 
And,  apprehending  afterwards  the  loss  of  Benjamin  also,  he 
cries  out  under  this  complicated  pressure  of  grief.  All  these  things 
are  against  me  b. — The  affliction  of  Job,  that  great  and  good 
man,  was  as  uncommon  as  was  the  patience  with  which  he  en- 
dured it.  And  no  doubt  he  felt  this  violent  agitation  of  the 
passions,  of  which  I  am  speaking,  though  by  the  grace  of  God 
he  did  not  lose  the  command  of  them,  even  when  the  storm  was 
at  its  height.  One  sad  story  followed  another,  till  he  found 
himself  bereft  of  almost  eveiy  outward  enjoyment.  Fire,  and 
sword,  and  tempest,  spread  desolation  all  around  him.  His 
body  was  afflicted  with  the  most  loathsome  and  painful  disease. 
And,  to  complete  the  scene,  his  friends,  instead  of  being  his  com- 
forters, became  his  accusers.  His  own  words  best  describe  the 
tumult  of  his  passions,  though  his  passions,  as  I  said  before,  did 
not  prevail  to  his  destruction.  O  that  my  grief  were  thoroughly 
weighed,  and  my  calamity  laid  in  the  balances  together  !  For 
now  it  would  be  heavier  than  the  sand  of  the  sea  ;  therefore  my 
words  are  swalloived  up.  For  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty  are 
within  me,  the  poison  whereof  drinheth  up  my  spirit :  the  ter- 
rors of  God  do  set  themselves  in  array  against  me  c.  Have 
pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends,  for  the  hand 
of  God  hath  touched  me  d. — The  prophet  Jeremiah  was  a  man 
of  a  compassionate  as  well  as  a  pious  heart.  And  how  great 
must  have  been  the  distress  he  felt,  while  his  eyes  beheld  Jeru- 
salem laid  waste  by  the  most  tremendous  judgments,  and  his 
countrymen  led  away,  under  the  frowns  of  Heaven,  into  a  sad 

a  Gen.  xxxvii.  34-,  35.  b  Chap.  xlii.  .36. 

c  Job  vi.  2 — -t.  d  Chap,  xix.  21. 

u2 


$08  THE  list.  OF  RELIGION 

and  long  captivity  !  The  grief,  perturbation  anS.  anguish  of  his 
breast  are  pathetically  expressed,  in  the  Lamentations  he  penned 
on  that  mournful  occasion.  /  am  the  man  that  hath  seen  affile- 
tion,  by  the  rod  of  his  wrath  a. — Is  it  nothing  to  you,  all  ye  that 
pass  by  ?  Behold,  and  see,  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my 
sorrow,  which  is  done  unto  me,  wherewith  the  Lord  hath  afflict" 
ed  me,  in  the  day  of  his  fierce  anger  b. — It  is  a  peculiarly  tender 
and  affecting  scene  which  the  evangelists  exhibit  to  our  view, 
when  they  relate  the  circumstances  of  our  Saviour's  last  conver-f 
sation  with  his  disciples,  the  night  before  he  suffered.  With 
what  ffrief  must  their  hearts  have  been  overwhelmed  at  the  sad 
tidings,  that  he  was  now  to  take  his  leave  of  them,  that  death 
awaited  him  in  its  most  horrible  form,  and,  which  was  worst  of 
all,  that  one  of  them  would  treacherously  betray  him,  and  the 
rest  ungenerously  forsake  him  ?  Their  countenances  expressed 
the  inward  pangs  they  felt,  while  each  one  with  eagerness  put 
the  question.  Lord,  is  it  I?  And  yet  their  sorrows  were  trifling 
in  comparison  with  their  Master's,  who  now  saw  himself  just 
plunging  into  the  depths  of  affliction  and  suffering.  '  I  have  a 
■baptism,'  said  he,  '  to  be  baptized  with,  and  how  am  I  strait- 
ened till  it  be  accomplished  c  !' 

Now,  the  pain  which  the  heart  feels  when  exercised  with 
such  trials  as  these,  must  be  very  pungent.  Nor  can  any  figure 
better  represent  the  confusion  and  agitation  of  the  mind  on  these 
sad  occasions,  than  that  of  a  storm  or  tempest  which  the  text 
supposes.  The  psalmist  adopts  this  metaphor,  when  he  would 
describe  the  tumult  of  his  passions  on  a  similar  occasion  :  '  Deep 
calleth  unto  deep,  at  the  noise  of  thy  water-spouts  :  all  thy  waves 
and  thy  billows  are  gone  over  me  c?.'  And  the  prophet  Isaiah 
addresses  the  church  in  much  the  same  language  :  '  O  thou  af- 
flicted, tossed  with  tempest,  and  not  comforted  e.'  But  is  im- 
moderate grief  to  be  indulged  ?  Are  we  to  abandon  ourselves  to 
sorrow,  as  if  our  case  were  desperate?  No  surely.  Be  still  is 
the  voice  of  God ;  and  the  mighty  power  accompanying  that 
word  hath,  in  many  instances,  subdued  the  storm,  when  all  other 
means  have  seemed  ineffectual. 

To  be  still  conveys  an  idea  of  the  lowest  degree  of  patience 

c  Lain.  i!i.  1.  6  Chap.  i.  12.  c  Luke  xii.  50. 

d  Psal.  xUi.  7.  e  Isa.  liv.  IL 


JN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  809 

and  submission.  Wherefore,  the  condescension  and  goodness 
of  God  in  addressing  us  after  this  manner  is  very  admirable  and 
affecting  indeed.  He  does  not  say,  "  Glory  in  tribulation, 
magnify  aloud  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  my  proceedings ;"  (all 
which  he  might  require  of  us,  and  we  ought  to  aim  at,)  but, 
*'  Be  still,  be  silent,  hold  your  peace ;"  thus  kindly  intimating 
the  sense  he  hath  of  our  frailty  and  weakness,  and  his  tender 
pity  and  compassion  towards  us  amidst  our  sorrows.  As  a  fa^ 
iher  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him. 
He  knoweth  our  frame :  he  remembereth  that  we  are  dust  a. 
I  will  not,  says  he,  contend  for  ever,  neither  will  I  he  always 
wroth  ;  for  the  spirit  shall  fail  before  me,  and  the  souls  which 
I  have  made  b.  If  therefore,  we  cannot  prevail  on  ourselves  to 
sing  of  judgment,  he  will  yet  be  pleased  with  our  silence.  To 
be  still  then  seems  chiefly  to  intend, 

1.  A  negative  kind  of  submission ;  I  mean  the  restraints  we 
ought  to  lay  upon  our  angry  and  tumultuous  passions.  This  is 
the  first  thing  to  be  attempted,  and  which  may  be  done  when 
perhaps  we  can  proceed  no  farther.  The  violent  and  sudden 
agitation  of  the  mind  under  very  pressing  afflictions,  hath  hur- 
ried some  persons  into  rash  censures  on  the  divine  conduct,  and 
an  injurious  treatment  of  themselves  and  others. 

Curse  God  and  die  c,  said  she  who  ought  to  have  borne  a 
part  with  Job  in  his  affliction,  and  to  have  used  her  endeavours 
to  reconcile  him  to  the  will  of  Providence.  "  Have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  God.  He  is  not  thy  friend,  but  thine  enemy. 
He  does  iiot  deal  kindly,  but  cruelly  with  thee.  Throw  off 
thine  allegiance  to  him,  and  renounce  all  thy  former  regards  for 
him."  To  curse  God  in  so  many  words,  is  indeed  an  out- 
rage upon  Deity,  of  which  the  most  profane  are  seldom  guilty. 
But  the  secret  thoughts  of  their  hearts,  when  they  are  in  ad- 
versity, if  they  do  indeed  at  all  think  of  God,  are  very  disho- 
nourable to  him ;  and  they  sometimes  proceed  so  far  as  to  ex- 
press them  with  their  lips.  Nay,  the  good  man  himself,  if  he 
carefully  watches  his  heart  on  these  occasions,  will  find  unbe- 
lief, pride  and  passion,  ere  he  is  aware,  kindling  into  a  flame, 
and  upon  the  point  of  bursting  out  in  some  hasty  and  impetuous 
word  against  God,  To  be  still  then  is  to  suppress  all  such 
a  Psal.  ciil.  \3,  I^.  b  Isa.  Irii.  16,  c  Job  iif  9- 


310  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

murmuring  thoughts  and  indecent  reflections  at  their  first  ris- 
ing, to  keep  a  guard  at  every  avenue  of"  the  soul,  and  to  prevent, 
if  possible,  the  least  sally  of  a  disobedient  and  undutiful  spirit. 
And  this  perhaps  is  the  utmost  the  Christian  can  do,  especially 
at  the  first  assault  of  some  unexpected  trouble,  and  when  his 
mind  is  in  a  great  ferment  and  confusion.  What  force  is  he 
obliged  to  put  upon  himself  !  And  what  distress  does  he  endure 
for  fear  a  word  should  escape  from  his  lips  that  may  dishonour 
God,  or  give  the  enemy  occasion  to  reproach  religion  !  Aaron, 
no  doubt,  felt  the  workings  of  natural  aft'ection  in  a  very  great 
degree,  when  the  judgments  of  God  were  executed  in  so  tre- 
mendous a  manner  upon  two  of  his  sons,  Nadab  and  Abihu ; 
yet  at  the  reasoning  of  Moses,  he  held  his  peace  a. 

Undue  resentments  also  against  those  who  have  been  the 
more  immediate  causes  of  our  affliction,  and  indeed  an  unsuita- 
ble carriage  towards  all  around  us,  are  to  be  carefully  avoided. 
A  man  of  a  hasty  temper  is  no  sooner  affronted  or  injured,  but 
he  instantly  catches  fire.  There  is  a  general  tumult  within, 
and  the  effect  appears  in  his  countenance,  his  words,  and  his 
actions.  But  religion  says,  Be  still.  We  cannot  indeed  avoid 
feeling.  Nor  is  it  criminal  to  express  our  feelings,  or,  in  a  pro- 
per manner  to  remonstrate  against  the  abuses  we  receive.  But 
the  danger  is,  lest  our  passions  get  the  better  of  our  reason,  and 
anger  degenerate  into  malice.  A  watch  therefore,  a  strict  watch, 
must  be  kept  over  the  furious  and  the  malevolent  affections  of 
the  soul.  Dearly  beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves,  says  the  apos- 
tle, but  rather  give  place  unto  wrath  b.  Such  was  the  beha- 
viour of  David,  on  occasion  of  that  very  provoking  affront  he 
received  from  Shimei.  He  would  not  allow  his  servants  to  re- 
venge it,  though  they  had  it  in  their  power,  and  a  fair  opportu- 
nity offered  c. — Our  tempers  require  also,  at  such  seasons,  very 
particular  management,  in  regard  of  our  connections  in  general. 
Affliction  is  mighty  apt  to  affect  men's  natural  dispositions,  and 
to  put  them  out  of  humour  with  all  around  them.  To  be  still 
therefore,  is  to  avoid  quarrelling  with  our  friends,  through  a 
hasty  misapprehension  of  their  words  and  actions ;  or,  if  they 
do  behave  with  shyness  and  coolness  towards  us,  to  endeavour 
at  least  to  bear  it  patiently ;  and,  instead  of  carrying  moroseness 

a  Lev.  X.  3.  h  Rom.  xii.  19.  c  2  Sam.  xvi.  10. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFrLICTION.  3^11 

and  severity  with  us  into  our  worldly  concerns,  to  demean  our- 
selves with  mildness  and  gentleness  towards  all  men.  In  his 
haste  the  psalmist  said,  All  men  are  liars  a ,-  but  he  was  quickly 
sensible  that  this  was  his  infirmity. 

So  farther,  to  he  still,  is  to  hold  a  restraint  upon  our  passions, 
that  we  offer  no  injury  to  ourselves,  to  our  reason,  our  health, 
or  our  usefulness.  The  language  of  religion  on  these  occasions, 
is  like  that  of  the  apostle  to  the  Philippian  jailor,  Do  thyself 
no  harm  b.  Great  liberties  of  this  sort  some  have  taken,  aban- 
doning themselves  to  grief,  and  absolutely  refusing  to  be  com- 
forted. And  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  there  is  a  strange 
disposition  in  the  mind,  at  such  seasons,  to  torment  itself.  It 
takes  a  kind  of  pleasure  in  gloomy  thoughts,  in  an  indolent  and 
inactive  state,  and  in  an  abstinence  from  the  common  enjoyments 
of  life.  All  which  has  a  tendency  to  consequences  very  sinful, 
fatal  and  dangerous. — This  restraint  then  upon  the  passions,  is 
what  the  text  primarily  and  chiefly  intends.  We  must  not, 
however,  stop  here. — 

2.  To  be  still  is  to  preserve  a  calm  and  composed  temper  of 
mind  under  affliction. 

This  is  carrying  the  matter  farther.  It  is  not  merely  refrain- 
ing from  impatience,  anger  and  resentment,  but  maintaining 
inward  quietness,  serenity  and  constancy.  I  do  not  mean  that 
stoical  insensibility  which  some  few  may  pride  themselves  in — 
a  stupid,  unaffected,  undisciplined  temper  of  mind.  In  such 
sense  surely  it  can  never  be  intended  that  we  should  be  still. 
Afflictions  would  not  be  afflictions  if  they  were  not  felt.  It  is 
well  observed  by  a  heathen  writer,  "  That  the  more  sensible 
perception  a  man  hath  of  the  evils  he  suffers,  when  yet  he  is 
contewted  to  suffer  for  the  sake  of  virtue,  so  much  the  more 
properly  may  he  be  said  to  be  courageous  c."  And  indeed  it  is 
difficult  to  say  for  what  end  our  passions  were  given  us,  if  they 
are  to  be  totally  suppressed.  They  have  their  use,  and  very 
important  use  too ;  which  the  apostle  evidently  supposes  when 
he  exhorts  us  not  to  despise  divine  corrections  d,  that  is,  not  to 
be  insensible  of  them  or  thoughtless  and  unconcerned  about 
them.     But  the  stillness  I  mean,  is  that  composure  which  our 

a  Psal.  cxvi.  11.  b  Acts  xvi.  28. 

c  Andron.  Rbod.  1.  11.  c.  9,  d  Heb.  xll.  5. 


312  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

Saviour  recommends  when  he  sayS)  In  patience  possess  your 
souls  a.  And  it  is  happy  indeed  to  have  such  a  possession  of 
ourselves,  as  to  be  capable  of  thinking  coolly  on  the  ways  of 
Providence,  and  of  conversing  freely  with  our  friends  concern- 
ing them — to  have  such  a  composure  as  will  admit  of  inward 
and  serious  reflection,  will  enable  us  to  advert  to  the  alleviating 
circumstances  attending  our  afflictions,  and  will  allow  of  our  dis- 
charging the  proper  duties  of  life,  without  hurry  and  distraction. 
This  serenity  of  mind  some  Christians  have  carried  with  them 
through  the  severest  trials,  and  that  without  any  mixture  of  un- 
natural stupidity. 

Who  can  read  over  the  Psalms  of  David,  and  hear  him  ar- 
guing on  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  without  admiring 
his  calmness  and  constancy  ?  The  same  may  be  said  of  Job. 
He  did  not  lose  his  reason,  his  religion,  or  his  hope  and  confi- 
dence in  God,  though  he  had  lost  almost  all  besides.  But  it 
is  the  character  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  which  afibrds  the 
brightest  illustration  of  this  temper.  The  very  night  he  was 
betrayed,  he  ate  the  passover  with  his  disciples  ;  and  he  con- 
versed familiarly  with  them,  while  he  had  the  king  of  terrors 
immediately  before  his  eyes.  O  happy  man  who  hath  gained 
such  a  superiority  as  this  over  his  tempestuous  passions  !  who, 
while  he  laments  the  loss  of  one  enjoyment,  can  still  taste  a 
sweetness  in  those  which  remain  !  who,  amidst  the  relentings 
of  frail  nature,  hath  resolution  enough  to  break  through  every 
difficulty,  and  betake  himself  to  his  duty  !  who,  though  God 
seems  as  if  he  were  about  to  slay  him,  can  yet  converse  with 
God,  can  think  and  read  and  pray,  and  have  a  relish  for  these 
divine  exercises  I — But  there  is, 

3.  A  higher  degree  of  patience  and  submission  than  even  this 
required  of  us ;  and  that  is,  to  justify,  approve  and  commend 
the  Divine  proceedings. 

A  hard  lesson  this  to  learn  !  "  What  !  must  I  say  it  is  all 
well  when  the  whole  stream  of  nature  is  against  me  ?  Must  I 
acknowledge  my  condition  to  be  the  fittest  for  me,  when  nought 
but  blackness  and  darkness  encompass  me  on  every  side  ?  Must 
I  kiss  the  hand  that  almost  crushes  me  to  nothing,  and  seems 
stretched  forth  to  destroy  me  ?"  Yes.  So  you  ought  to  do. 
a  Luke  xxi.  19. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  313 

And  so  some  good  men  have  done.  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away^  says  Job,  and  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord  a.  Shall  we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  shall 
we  not  receive  evil  b  ?  Though  he  slay  me,  yet  ivill  I  trust  in 
him  c.  "  Whatever  be  my  condition  I  will  speak  honourably 
of  God.  Faith  tells  me,  notwithstanding  all  I  suffer,  that  he  is 
wise,  just  and  good ;  and  my  trembling  lips  shall  pronounce  him 
so,"  I  will  praise  the  Lord,  says  David,  as  long  as  I  have  any 
being  d.  "  Though  I  am  stript  of  all  my  enjoyments,  and  have 
nothing  left  but  my  bare  existence,  no  family,  no  friends,  no 
wealth,  no  worldly  comforts  or  pleasures  whatsoever;  yet  God 
shall  be  magnified.  His  name  shall  be  exalted  as  long  as  I  have 
breath  to  speak  his  praise."  What  a  noble,  what  a  divine  and 
heavenly  temper  of  mind  is  this  !  Such  also  was  the  language 
of  the  prophet  Habakkuk,  whilst  he  trembled  in  himself  at  the 
gloomy  prospect  of  the  calamities  which  he  saw  coming  upon 
his  native  country.  Though  the  Jig-tree  shall  not  blossom,  neither 
shall  fruit  be  in  the  vines,  the  labour  of  the  olive  shall  fail,  and 
the  f  elds  shall  yield  no  meat,  the  flock  shall  be  cut  ofl  from  the 
fold,  and  there  shall  be  no  herd  in  the  stall :  yet  will  I  rejoice  in 
the  Lord,  I  will  joy  in  the  God  of  my  salvation  e. 

Thus  to  glory  in  tribulation,  may  seem  at  first  view  too  great 
a  refinement  in  religion.  Human  nature  is  frail,  and  our  spirits 
are  so  apt  to  sink  under  the  weight  of  heavy  afflictions,  that  it 
is  hard  to  conceive  how  a  man  should  sing  of  judgment,  as  Scrip- 
ture somewhere  expresses  it.  But  sure  I  am,  upon  the  princi- 
ples of  the  gospel  it  is  reasonable,  and  with  the  aids  of  divine 
grace  it  is  practicable.  The  instances  I  have  mentioned,  and 
many  besides  recorded  in  the  New  Testament,  put  the  fact  be- 
yond dispute.  Nay,  there  have  been  heathens,  whose  firmness 
of  mind  in  adversity,  and  whose  sensibility  too  of  the  influence 
of  divine  Providence  therein,  are  truly  astonishing,  and  may 
well  put  some  who  call  themselves  Christians  to  the  blush.  It 
was  the  saying  of  a  philosopher,  famous  for  his  morality,  and 
who  was  himself  also  a  man  of  affliction,  "  I  will  plead  for  the 
ways  of  Providence  towards  men,  for  all  of  them  yi"     And  an- 

a  Job  i.  21.  b  Chap.  ii.  10.  c  Chap.  xiii.  15. 

d  Psal.  cxlvi.  2.  e  Hab.  iii.  17,  18. 


314  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

Other  represents  it  as  the  temper  of  his  wise  man,  "not  only  to 
submit  to  God,  but  to  approve  of  his  conduct:  to' acquiesce,  not 
from  mere  necessity,  but  choice  «."  8hall  he  then,  v/ho  enjoys 
tiie  clear  hght  of  divine  revelation,  who  hath  drank  into  the  spi- 
rit of  the  gospel,  and  is  encouraged  to  seek  and  expect  divine  in- 
fluences, hesitate  one  moment  at  that  which  the  heathen  pre- 
tends to,  purely  on  the  principles  of  nature  and  reason? — But  I 
forbear  at  present  to  enter  into  our  obligations  to  this  temper : 
my  object  hitherto  has  been  only  to  describe  the  temper  itself. 

You  see  then  what  it  is,  in  the  language  of  the  text,  to  be 
still.  It  is  to  lay  a  restraint  upon  our  tumultuous  passions — to 
be  calm  and  composed — yea,  if  possible,  to  justify,  approve,  and 
commend  the  divine  proceedings. 

PART  II. 

The  temper  and  behaviour  required  of  us  in  a  time  of  afflic- 
tion have  been  explained — Be  still.     Whence  we  proceed, 

II.  To  consider  our  obligations  to  the  practice  of  these  great 
and  difficult  duties. 

Now  these  obligations,  which  are  numerous  and  powerful, 
are  all  comprehended  in  this  short  but  striking  expression — I 
AM  God.  Language  truly  majestic,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
most  condescending  and  gracious — happily  adapted  to  convey 
instruction,  conviction,  and  comfort,  to  the  heart  of  a  good  man, 
when  in  the  deepest  distress.  "  Know,  as  if  he  had  said,  that 
there  is  a  God — that  he  governs  the  world — that  I  who  have 
a  right  to  govern  it,  who  am  every  way  qualified  to  govern  it, 
and  who  have  the  tenderest  affection  for  thee  in  thy  affliction, 
am  that  God — and  that  all  I  do  is  in  reference  to  some  future 
design,  wherein  I  will  be  exalted."  Let  us  briefly  contemplate 
each  of  these  particulars. 

First,  There  is  a  God. 

To  set  about  proving  so  plain  and  obvious  a  truth  as  this,  and 
which  none  among  us  deny,  would  be  needless  and  impertinent. 
That  is  not  therefore  what  I  intend,  but  only  to  hold  up  this 
grand  fundamental  principle  of  religion,  to  the  view  of  the  af- 
flicted Christian.     Amidst  a  crowd  of  sensible  objects,  we  are 

a  Non  pareo  Deo,  sed  assentior :  ex  aQimo  illtuu,  non  quia  necesse  est,  se- 
quor.     Seneca,  Epist.  96. 


I 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  315 

wiiglity  apt  to  lose  sight  of  him  whose  nature  is  spiritual,  and 
who  is  only  to  be  apprehended  by  the  eye  of"  faith.  And  there 
is  no  time  in  which  the  imagination,  thoughts,  and  passions,  are 
more  powerfully  assaulted  by  such  objects,  than  when  we  are  in 
affliction.  Prosperity  and  adversity  operate  in  this  respect  alike. 
Sudden  and  extraordinary  troubles,  by  engrossing  our  attention, 
have  the  same  effect  to  shut  out  God  from  the  heart,  as  great 
and  unexpected  successes.  To  remind  you,  therefore,  on  these 
occasions,  that  there  is  a  God,  is  by  no  means  unseasonable. 

Be  persuaded  then  to  set  God  before  you,  Christian,  in  all 
his  adorable  perfections.  Apprehend  him  present — immediately 
present  with  you,  closely  watching  and  accurately  observing  all 
your  thoughts,  reasonings,  dispositions,  and  affections.  He  not 
only  considers  your  trouble,  but,  as  the  psalmist  expresses  it, 
he  knows  your  soul  in  adversities  a — with  the  utmost  exactness 
and  precision  he  eyes  the  various  secret  and  complicated  opera- 
tions of  your  breast.  The  recollection,  therefore,  of  this  great 
and  important  truth,  especially  if  it  make  a  deep  impression  on 
the  heart,  will  have  a  prodigious  effect  to  check  and  restrain 
your  tumultuous  passions.  Was  the  blessed  God  to  assume  a 
visible  form,  and  so  reveal  himself  to  your  senses,  I  ask.  Would 
not  the  lustre  of  his  presence  command  an  awe  upon  your  spi- 
rits? And  would  not  those  striking  words,  I  am  God,  pro- 
nounced immediately  by  his  lips,  oblige  you  at  once  to  be  still? 
How  loud  and  clamorous  soever  the  discourse  between  Job  and 
liis  friends  might  be,  when  God  steps  in,  when  he  makes  one  of 
the  company,  and  darts  the  splendours  of  his  infinite  Majest)- 
upon  them,  they  are  instantly  struck  dumb  :  and  when  the  af- 
flicted patriarch  recovers  from  his  surprise,  with  what  humility, 
meekness,  and  submission,  does  he  address  the  great  God  !  '  I 
have  heard  of  thee  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear :  but  now  mine  eye 
seeth  thee.  Wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes  6.'  But,  though  you  have  no  such  sensible  manifestation 
of  the  divine  glory,  God  as  really  exists,  and  is  as  intimately 
acquainted  with  your  temper  and  behaviour,  as  if  that  were  truly 
the  fact.  Solomon  cautions  us  not  to  speak  a  hasty  word  before 
the  angel  c  :  how  much  less  should  we  be  guilty  of  such  pre- 

d  Psal.  xxxi.  7.  (,  Job  xlii.  5,  6.  c  Eccl.  v.  6. 


816  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

sumption,  did  wc  apprehend  ourselves,  as  we  actually  arc,  in  tli« 
immediate  presence  of  Almighty  God  himself! 

Secondly,  That  God  who  is  thus  a  witness  of  what  passes 
in  our  breasts,  is  the  great  Governor  of  the  world,  and  hath  a 
concern  in  bringing  about  those  events  which  occasion  all  this 
tumult  of  our  passions.  /  am  God,  that  is,  in  other  words, 
"  It  is  I  who  have  done  it."  Shall  there  be  evil  in  a  city,  says 
the  prophet,  and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it  a  ? 

The  belief  of  a  Providence  that  over-rules  all  the  motions  of 
the  material,  and  all  the  actions  of  the  intellectual  world,  seems 
as  reasonable  as  the  belief  of  a  God.  What  parent  will  desert 
his  offspring  ?  How  then  can  it  be  supposed,  that  he  who  im- 
planted this  principle  in  our  nature,  (this  sra^yi)  should  himself 
cast  off  all  concern  for  the  world,  which  is  the  offspring  of  his 
infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness?  Besides,  it  would  not 
have  been  worth  his  while  to  have  created  the  world,  if,  when 
he  had  so  done,  he  had  left  it  to  govern  itself,  of  which  it  is  ut- 
terly incapable,  and  the  consequence  of  which  would  have  been 
the  utmost  confusion  and  misery.  Nor  is  his  self-sufficiency  a 
bar  against  a  providence,  for  if  this  were  a  reason  why  he  should 
not  govern,  it  would  be  a  reason  why  he  should  not  create.  And 
then  his  omnipotence,  his  omnipresence,  and  all  his  other  attri- 
butes, are  strong  arguments  in  favour  of  a  providence,  for  these 
render  him  infinitely  capable  of  ruling  the  world,  and  if  he  were 
not  to  rule  it,  they  could  not  be  displayed  in  the  manner  they 
are  to  the  view  of  his  creatures.  It  follows,  therefore,  from  the 
belief  of  a  God,  that  there  is  a  providence,  and,  with  equal  rea- 
son, that  this  providence  must  extend  to  the  minutest  affairs. 
There  is  no  matter  too  inconsiderable  for  the  notice  and  atten- 
tion of  the  great  God,  nor  does  it  appear  how  the  whole  could 
be  directed  to  a  particular  end,  without  a  regard  to  each  part. 
And  surely  the  concerns  of  man,  since  he  is  placed  at  the  head 
of  the  world,  must  be  the  object  of  the  special  regard  of  Provi- 
dence. The  divine  influence,  therefore,  in  human  affairs,  is  ca- 
pable of  proof  upon  the  principles  of  nature  and  reason. 
And  how  very  decisive  the  sentence  of  Scripture  is  upon  this 
matter,  I  hardly  need  tell  you.  Are  not  two  sparrows,  says 
our  Saviour,  sold  for  a  farthing  ?  and  one  of  them  shall  not 

a  Araos  iii.  6. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  31t 

fall  on  the  ground  without  your  Father. —  The  very  hairs  of  your 
head  are  all  numbered  a.  Affliction  tlicn,  which  is  every  where 
represented  as  the  means  of  promoting  the  Christian's  real  good, 
sorties  not  forth  oft/ie  dust,  neither  does  trouble  spring  out  of  the 
ground  b. 

"  Be  still  therefore,  says  the  great  Ruler  of  the  world,  for 
J  am  God.     It  is   I  that  do  it.     It  is  I  that  deprive  you  of 
your  substance,  your  friends,  your  children,  your  health,  or  your 
other  enjoyments,  the  loss  of  which  you  so  bitterly  lament."   We 
are  apt  to  look  wholly  at  second  causes,   and  to  say,    *'  If  this 
or  that  measure  had  been  taken,  I  had  escaped  this  great  evil : 
or.   If  this  or  the  other  assistance  had  been  obtained,  my  child, 
my  brother  or  my  friend  had  not  died."     So  a  torrent  of  trouble 
arises  in  the  breast,  rushes  furiously  through  every  avenue  of 
the  soul,  and  spreads  confusion  and  desolation  before  it.     But 
the  reflection,  That  the  hand  of  God  is  in  it,  would,  in  a  good 
degree,  controul,  if  not  entirely  subdue  the  impetuous  current. 
It  is  scarce  possible,  indeed,  that  a  thoughtful  man  should 
quite  overlook  the  immediate  causes  of  his  affliction.     Nay,  a 
recollection  of  them,  so  far  as  it  may  be  of  use  ta  detect  the 
errors  of  his  judgment  or  heart,  and  so  to  regulate  his  future 
temper  and  conduct,  is  fit  and  prudent.     But  otherwise,  to  what 
purpose   is  it  incessantly  to  wander  through  the  wild  maze  of 
causes  and  effects,  when  the  event  hath  taken  place,  and  cannot, 
by  all  the  reasoning  in  the  world,   be  superseded  ?  This,   how- 
ever, is  an  evil  to  which  we  are  exceedingly  prone.     And  it  is 
a  very  great  evil,  not  only  because  it  tends  to  heighten  and  ag- 
gravate our  distresses,  but  because  it  precludes  those  reflections 
on  the  influence   of  divine   Providence,   which  would  have  a 
moral   and  religious,  as   well  as  a  most  salutary   and  healing 
effect.     Of  what  consequence  is  it  therefore,  that  we  attentively 
eye  the  hand  of  God  in  our  afflictions  ?  This  one  consideration, 
that  it  is  he  hath  done  it,  duly  impressed  on  our  hearts,  would 
go  a  good  way  towards  appeasing  the  angry  passions  of  our 
breasts,   and  silencing  the  hasty  and  clamorous  censures  we  are 
apt  to  throw  out  upon  the  instruments  of  our  troubles.     The 
mind,  duly  occupied  with  such  thoughts  and  reflections,  would 
be  diverted  from  those  objects  which  are  apt  to  irritate  and  en- 
a  Matt.  X.  29,  SO,  b  Job  v.  6 


31S  TMIe  use  of  RELIGION" 

flame.  And  then  tlie  idea  of  God,  as  the  grand  agent,  would 
soften  an  ingenuous  heart  into  submission.  I  mean  such  a 
heart  as  sincerely  and  affectionately  loves  that  great  and  good 
Being.  Nay,  it  would  alleviate  the  affliction  itself,  and  render 
it  less  pungent  and  agonizing.  This  was  the  ground  of  David's 
reasoning,  when  he  preferred  the  pestilence  to  the  sword.  He 
considered  the  former  judgment  as  proceeding  more  immediately 
from  God  :  and  it  was  less  distressing  to  him  to  think  of  falling 
into  his  hands,  than  into  the  hands  of  men  a.  So  our  Saviour 
composes  himself  to  his  approaching  sufferings,  by  this  very  con- 
sideration of  the  divine  influence  in  them.  The  cup  v;hich  my 
Father  hath  given  me  shall  I  not  drink  itb? — Affliction  then 
comes  not  by  chance,  but  by  the  permission,  appointment,  and 
influence  of  Providence :  and  therefore  we  ouirht  to  be  still. 

Thirdly,  The  God  who  does  it  has  an  unquestionable  right 
to  do  it.  Know  that  I  am  God — It  is  the  lanouag-e  of  a  So- 
vereign.  So  he  speaks  to  the  Israelites,  '  See  now  that  I, 
even  I  am  he,  and  there  is  no  God  with  me  ;  I  kill,  and  I  make 
alive :  I  wound,  and  I  heal :  neither  is  there  any  that  can  de- 
liver out  of  my  hand  c' 

To  dispute  the  dominion  of  God  over  his  creatures,  or  to  pre- 
scribe rules  to  him  how  he  shall  act,  is  a  kind  of  arrogance  and 
folly  that  wants  a  name  for  it.  He  is  Lord  of  the  universe, 
and  has  the  clearest,  fullest  and  most  indisputable  property  in 
every  creature  and  thing  that  exists  ;  for  they  all  owe  their  ex- 
istence to  his  power  and  will.  Who  then  shall  say  that  he  hath 
not  a  right  to  do  what  he  pleases  with  his  own  ?  especially 
when  we  reflect,  as  will  hereafter  be  shewn,  that  he  is  most 
wise,  just  and  good;  and  so  cannot  possibly  err  in  any  of  his 
proceedings.  It  would  be  no  injury  done  to  an  angel,  were  he 
to  annihilate  him ;  because  angels  derive,  not  only  their  happi- 
ness and  glory,  but  their  being  from  God.  And  surely,  since  all 
the  pleasant  ingredients  poured  into  our  cup  are  the  fruit  of  his 
unmerited  goodness,  he  may,  without  assigning  any  reason  to 
us,  diminish  our  comforts  in  what  proportion  he  sees  fit.  In- 
stead of  prohibiting  one  tree  in  our  earthly  paradise,  he  may 
interdict  them  all.  And  indeed,  considering  the  guilt  we  stand 
chargeable  with,  it  is  truly  a  wonder  that  this  is  not  the  case. ' 

a  1  Cbron.  xxi.  13.  b  Jolm  xviii.  II.  c  Deut.  xxxii.  S9. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTIOX.  319 

The  right  he  has  therefore  to  our  substance,  our  friends,  our 
families,  our  lives,  our  all,  is  a  consideration  that  may  well  si- 
lence the  discontented  and  murmuring  passions  of  our  afflicted 
breasts.  Thus  Job  reasoned,  when  he  found  himself  on  a  sud- 
den reduced  to  poverty,  and  knew  not  how  to  account  for  the 
measures  Providence  was  pursuing.  '  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  a.* 
And  this  he  said,  falling  down  on  the  ground  and  worshipping; 
thus  humbly  and  reverently  acknowledging  the  universal  domi- 
nion of  God  over  his  creatures.  And  it  was  doubtless  with  a 
view  to  fix  this  idea  upon  him  and  his  friends,  that  God  after-  . 
wards  revealed  himself  to  them  in  his  glory,  and  gave  them  so 
striking  a  description  of  his  power  and  greatness.  As  long  as 
he  had  a  being  the  psalmist  resolved  to  praise  the  Lord ,-  well 
remembering  the  force  of  this  argument,  that  though  he  was 
stript  of  every  thing  to  his  very  existence,  God  had  done  no 
other  than  he  had  an  undoubted  right  to  do,  and  there  still 
remained  cause  for  gratitude  and  praise  b. — But  while  God  thus 
proclaims  himself  a  Sovereign,  he  would  have  us  consider  him, 

Fourthly,  As  most  just  and  wise  in  all  his  proceedings. 
"  Know  that  I  am  God — not  such  a  God  as  are  the  heathen 
deities — not  such  a  God  as  arbitrary  princes  would  be,  who 
often  act  from  mere  caprice  and  humour,  and  without  proposing 
to  themselves  any  end  worthy  of  their  supreme  dignity.  No; 
my  wisdom  is  consummate:  my  justice  is  unimpeached." 

Here  let  the  man  of  affliction  lay  his  hand  upon  his  breast, 
and  solemnly  appeal  to  his  conscience  upon  the  question,  whe- 
ther, what  he  endures  is  not  what  he  hath  deserved,  yea  far  less 
than  he  might  have  justly  apprehended  ?  Dare  you  indulge  a 
thought  that  God  is  severe,  because  he  hath  abridged  you  of 
an  enjoyment,  which  he  himself  gave  you,  which  you  have  for- 
feited a  thousand  times,  and  which  he  hath  not  taken  away, 
without  leaving  you  still  in  the  possession  of  some  other  com- 
forts ?  He  is  not  severe.  Nor  would  he  have  been  severe,  even 
though  he  had  deprived  you  of  every  thing  that  can  be  called 
good.  The  very  shadow  of  injustice  vanishes  at  the  idea  of 
God.  The  most  distant  suspicion  of  harshness  or  rigour  in 
his  proceedings,  is  absorbed  and  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  our 
a  Job  i.  21.  h  Psal.  cxlvu  2. 


320  tHE  USE  OP  RELIGION 

guilt.  *  If  thou,  Lord,  shouldst  mark  iniquities,  wlio  could 
stand  a  ?'  Does  pride  or  resentment  then  rise  in  your  breast  ? 
Combat  these  daring  opposers  of  the  great  God,  with  a  steady 
recollection  of  your  ingratitude,  unfruitfulness  and  disobedience. 
Call  to  mind  the  affronts  you  have  offered  to  the  Divine  mercy 
and  goodness :  so  will  you  tremble  at  the  imagination  of  an  un- 
just God. — Nor  is  he  to  be  suspected  of  unfaithfulness.  Has 
he  told  you  that  his  providence  would  always  smile  on  your 
affairs?  that  health  should  ever  bloom  on  your  countenance? 
that  peace  and  happiness  should  incessantly  flourish  in  your 
dwelling  ?  or,  that  your  friends,  your  relations,  or  your  chil- 
dren, should  never  be  snatched  from  your  embraces  ?  No.  As 
he  hath  not  failed  of  any  one  of  his  promises;  so  neither  hath 
he  given  you  the  least  ground  to  expect  that,  of  which  in  the 
end  he  hath  deceived  your  expectations.  Let  God  he  true^  but 
every  man  a  liar  b. 

And  as  thus  a  contemplation  of  the  justice,  so  also  of  the  wis- 
dom of  God,  tends  greatly  to  soothe  and  calm  the  tempestuous 
passions.  God  is  most  wise,  that  is,  he  orders  all  things  so  as 
to  compass  some  truly  good,  noble,  and  important  end.  A 
truth  this  which  stands  as  firm  as  his  existence.  Indeed  the 
scheme  of  Providence  is,  in  our  apprehension,  very  mysterious, 
nor  can  it  in  the  nature  of  things  be  otherwise,  for  it  consists  of 
so  many  different  parts,  and  those  so  curiously  framed  and  laid 
together,  that  it  is  an  object  by  far  too  considerable  to  be  clearly 
discerned  by  a  naked  eye,  especially  by  an  eye  so  weak  and  dim 
as  is  the  human  understanding  in  its  present  state.  When, 
therefore  we  apply  our  imperfect,  and  often  mistaken  measures 
of  reasoning,  to  particular  dispensations,  it  is  no  wonder  we  are 
greatly  puzzled  to  give  any  tolerable  account  of  them.  The 
more  exquisite  the  embroidery  is,  the  more  strange  and  confus- 
ed will  the  wrong  side  of  the  work  appear.  But  this  difficulty 
of  comprehending  the  ways  of  God,  instead  of  inducing  a 
thought  the  least  unfavourable  to  the  divine  wisdom,  should  ra- 
ther lead  us  to  expect,  that  the  administration  of  Providence, 
when  it  comes  to  be  laid  open  to  the  view  of  angels  and  men, 
will  appear  the  more  grand  and  noble. — And  now,  since  this  is 
the  case,  how  plain  and  natural  the  inference,  That  it  is  your 
a  Psgl.  cxxx.  3.  b  Rem.  Ui.  4i. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTTOSr.  321 

duty.  Christian,  to  acquiesce  patiently  in  the  will  of  God,  though 
your  affliction  is  very  painful  and  distressing,  and  you  are  wholly 
at  a  loss  to  explain  its  immediate  intendment.  If  he  is  most 
<v'ise,  it  is  certain  that  he  hath  some  end  in  view  worthy  of  him- 
self; and  it  is  as  certain,  that  he  knows  how  to  promote  your 
good  by  the  most  unlikely  means.  Surely  he  who  framed  this 
beautiful  world,  out  of  a  chaos  of  darkness  and  confusion,  can 
easily  make  the  greatest  evils  of  life  fruitful  of  the  most  desir- 
able blessings.  And  that  such  will  be  the  result  of  the  present 
dispensation,  will  I  hope  clearly  appear,  when  you  come  to  con- 
sider his  goodness  in  connection  with  his  wisdom,  and  the 
ground  you  have  to  conclude  that  you  are  interested  in  his  fa- 
vour. Be  still  then  amidst  the  most  threatening  storms  of  ad- 
versity, remembering  that  he  who  is  at  the  helm,  is  infinitely 
wise  and  skilful,  and  that  the  winds  and  waves  are  under  his  con- 
troul. — Which  leads  me  to  observe,  that  the  most  quieting  con- 
sideration, in  a  time  of  affliction,  is  that  which  arises. 

Fifthly,  From  the  goodness  of  God,  and  the  covenant-re- 
lation which  subsists  between  him  and  us.  "  Know  that  I  am 
God — not  a  cruel,  but  a  merciful  God ;  not  your  enemy,  but 
your  friend." 

To  conceive  of  God  as  cruel,  is  indeed  to  conceive  of  him  as 
unjust,  than  which  nothing  is  more  base  and  unworthy.  Such 
an  idea  of  the  great  Governor  of  the  world  ill  becomes  even  his 
bitterest  enemies,  and  those  who  suffer  his  resentments  in  the 
highest  degree.  Yet,  when  he  appears  in  the  character  of  a 
Judge,  and  proceeds  judicially  against  us,  we  may  well  be  terri- 
fied, though  we  know  he  can  do  no  wrong.  A  consciousness  of 
guilt  falling  in  v/ith  our  natural  notions  of  justice,  must  needs 
on  such  an  occasion  fill  our  breasts  with  consternation  and  hor- 
ror. But  when,  on  the  contrary,  he  assumes  the  character  of  a 
friend  or  a  parent,  and  we  view  his  mercy  and  goodness  in  close 
connection,  and  in  perfect  harmony  with  his  justice  and  truth, 
all  cause  of  slavish  fear,  and  of  undue  emotion  of  mind,  at  once 
ceases.  A  friend  cannot  wilfully  injure  me.  A  father  cannot 
delight  to  destroy  me.  O !  think  then.  Christian,  how  in- 
finitely good  the  blessed  God  is — how  he  becomes  your  God — 
and  what  evidence  you  have  that  this  relation  does  subsist  be- 
tween him  and  you. 

VOL.  I.  ■£. 


822  THE  USE  OF  UELIGION 

God  is  good. — Trcousporting  thought !  enough  to  make  the 
heart  of  the  Christian  leap  within  him,  even  when  surrounded 
with  the  bhickest  scenes  of  adversity.  His  nature  is  good — in- 
iiiiitely  good — good  beyond  description — beyond  conception. 
The  softest  characters,  the  brightest  images,  th.e  most  tender 
and  moving  Language,  he  has  himself  adopted,  to  convey  an  idea, 
and  after  all  it  is  but  a  faint  and  imperfect  idea,  of  his  goodness. 
He  has  the  heart  of  a  friend,  the  affection  of  a  brother,  the 
bowels  of  a  parent.  God  is  love.  If  to  pardon  the  guilty,  to 
extend  mercv  to  rebels,  to  make  the  miserable  happy,  to  pour 
a  profusion  of  bliss  on  those  who  had  merited  vengeance;  if 
these  are  instances  of  goodness,  such  instances  are  innumerable. 
Go  where  we  will,  even  into  the  gloomy  habitations  of  the  af- 
flicted, as  well  as  the  cheerful  mansions  of  the  prosperous  and 
happy,  we  hear  a  voice  proclaiming  aloud,  llie  Lord  is  good : 
his  mercy  endureth  for  ever  a. 

But  the  question  returns:  "Though  he  is  thus  good,  and 
good  to  me,  and  to  millions  besides,  in  not  punishing  us  imme- 
diately, according  to  our  deserts,  yet,  upon  what  principle  may 
I  consider  him  as  my  friend,  and  as  disposed  to  do  me  good  in 
the  most  essential  instance,  consistently  with  justice  and  truth, 
and  witli  tlie  measures  he  seems  to  be  pursuing?"  Need  I  tell 
you,  Christian?  The  gospel,  which  you  have  heard,  understood 
and  believed,  gives  a  full  and  clear  answer  to  this  interesting 
question.  He  becomes  your  God,  through  the  mediation  of 
Christ  his  Son.  Amazing  love  !  Him  he  spared  not,  but  de- 
livered him  unto  death  for  your  saliC,  that  with  him  he  might 
freely  give  you  all  things  h.  By  his  obedience  and  sufibrings, 
justice  is  appeased,  and  all  obstructions  which  lay  in  the  way  of 
your  reconciliation  to  God  are  removed.  With  him  a  covenant 
is  pubhcly,  solemnly  and  most  surely  ratified,  wherein  provision 
is  made  for  your  present  and  your  everlasting  happiness.  Your 
afflictions  are  by  these  means  converted  into  blessings,  and  ren- 
dered salutary  and  useful.  Nay,  more  than  this,  the  Son  of 
God,  by  his  deep  and  unparalleled  sufferings,  is  become  a  sharer 
with  you  in  your  sorrows,  is  experimentally  touched  ivith  the  feel- 
ing of  your  infrmities,  and  is  himself  immediately  interested  in 
the  happy  issue  of  all  those  fiery  trials  with  which  you  are  exer- 
a  Psal.  cxxxvi.  1.  b  Roui.  viii.  '62. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  323 

cised  a.  What  can  I  say  more  to  magnify  the  goodness  of 
God?  You  have  here  the  strongest  expression  of  it.  You  see 
it  united  with  truth  and  justice  ;  and  thus  pouring  the  richest 
blessings  upon  the  most  unworthy.  x\nd  now,  amidst  these 
wonders  of  divine  love,  metjiinks  you  have  lost  sight  of  vour  af- 
flictions, or  at  least  begin  to  see  that  they  may  very  well  consist 
with  the  tender  mercies  of  an  infinitely  good  God. 

"  But  ah  !  you  question  whether  he  is  your  God."  Why 
should  you  question  it,  Christian  ?  If  you  prefer  his  favour 
above  every  other  enjoyment,  if  you  look  for  reconciliation  with 
him  in  the  ..ay  he  has  appointed,  and  if  your  grand  object  is  tik 
conformity  to  his  image,  be  assured  he  is  your  God.  There  can 
be  no  objection  on  his  part,  as  clearly  appears  from  the  harmony 
of  the  divine  attributes  in  our  redemption  ;  wherefore  a  de- 
liberate and  hearty  consent  on  yours,  may  well  put  the  matter  be- 
yond all  reasonable  dispute.  Nor  should  you  infer  from  your 
afflictions,  that  he  is  not  your  God ;  for  afflictions  may  be,  and 
often  are,  the  fruits  of  his  parental  tenderness  and  love.  To 
the  doubts,  however,  which  arise  from  this  quarter,  oppose  the 
cheerful  remembrance  of  the  various  blessings  you  have  received 
at  his  indulgent  hands.  Call  to  mind  the  many  striking  expres- 
sions of  his  providential  bounty  and  goodness,  and  especially  the 
seasonable  interpositions  of  his  grace  in  your  ifevour,  to  restore 
your  wandering  feet  from  the  paths  of  sin,  and  to  unite  your 
heart  and  affections  to  himself.  Would  he  have  shewn  you 
your  misery  ?  Would  he  have  directed  you  to  a  Saviour  ? 
Would  he  have  inclined  you  to  devote  yourself  to  his  fear  and 
service,  if  he  had  designed  to  destroy  you  ? — Since  then,  God 
is  infinitely  good,  and  you  have  ground  to  hope,  that  he  is  your 
God,  ought  you  not  to  suppress  every  murmuring  thought,  and 
cheerfully  acquiesce  in  hio  will  ? — But  there  is  one  idea  farther 
included  in  the  text,  and  that  is, 

Sixthly,  and  lastly.  That  all  God  docs  is  in  reference  to 
pome  future  design.  This  hath  been  already  observed  in  gene- 
ral, whilst  we  have  been  speaking  of  the  v/isdom  of  God.  But 
it  deserves  our  more  particular  attention,  and  the  rather,  as  this 
sentiment  is  strongly  expressed  in  the  last  clause  of  the  verse — / 
will  be  exalted  among  the  heathen,  I  will  be  exalted  in  the  earth. 

a  Heb.  ii.  J  4-— 18.  iv.  15. 

x2 


324  TI^E  USE  OF  HELIGION 

To  lay  open  the  designs  of  Providence,  in  all  its  various  dis- 
pensations, would  be  a  vain  attempt.  We  are  not  equal  to  the 
task.  Yet,  of"  this  we  may  be  assured,  that  whatever  afflictions 
good  men  endure,  the  object  the  blessed  God  proposes  is  theiv 
advantage,  and  in  compassing  that  end  the  display  of  his  ovm 
glory.  Now,  their  afflictions  are  sometimes  made  to  subserve 
the  purposes  of  their  temporal  good.  Events,  which  at  their 
first  appearance  have  threatened  the  most  unfavourable  conse- 
quences, have  yet  operated  in  a  manner  directly  contrary  to  our 
views,  and,  after  a  while,  have  brought  about  those  very  ends 
they  seemed  adapted  to  defeat.  For  examples  of  this  sort,  I 
might  refer  you  to  the  histories  of  Joseph,  David,  and  others 
on  divine  record.  Nay,  there  are  few  serious  persons  but  must 
have  made  many  such  observations  in  the  course  of  their  expe- 
rience. And  in  these  instances,  how  wonderfully  have  the  wis- 
dom, power  and  goodness  of  God  been  illustrated  and  displayed  ! 
Wicked  men  have  been  obliged  to  acknowledge  the  sovereign 
dominion  of  Providence,  whilst  the  hearts  of  good  men  have 
been  overwhelmed  with  gratitude  and  joy.  So  is  God  exalted 
among  the  heathen,  so  is  he  exalted  m  the  earth.  But,  however 
afflictions  may  operate  under  the  conduct  of  Providence,  in  regard 
of  our  outward  circumstances,  there  are  ends  proposed  by  them, 
in  a  moral  and  religious  view,  which,  as  they  are  more  plain  and 
obvious,  so  they  are  far  more  interesting  and  important.  And 
here  how  bright,  how  cheerful,  how  animating  a  scene  have  I 
to  present  to  his  vie\v  who  sincerely  loves  God,  be  his  affliction 
in  itself  ever  so  pungent  and  affecting  !  Faith  is  a  most  excel- 
lent, important  and  necessary  grace.  It  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  religion.  It  is  the  root  from  whence  all  the  pleasant  fruits 
of  acceptable  obedience  proceed  and  grow.  Without  faith  it  is 
impossible  to  please  God  a.  And  by  faith  the  just  live,  walk  and 
act  b.  Now,  affliction  is  a  means  of  trying  the  genuineness  of 
our  faith,  and  of  improving  and  strengthening  this  divine  grace. 
So  the  apostle  Peter  tells  the  afflicted  Christians  of  his  time : 
Ye  are  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temptations :  that  the 
trial  of  yotir  faith  being  much  moi'e  precious  than  of  gold  that 
pcrishcth,  thoughit  be  tried  tcithfire,  might  be  found  unto  praise 
and  honour  and  glory  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ  c. 

a  Ileb.  xi.  6.  b  Heb.  x.  38.  c  1  Pet.  i.  6,  7. 


IN  A  TIME  or  AFFLICTION.  325 

Many  a  good  man  hath  for  a  long  while  questioned  the  reality 
of  his  faith;  that  is,  whether  he  hath  truly  believed  to  the  pur- 
poses of  his  salvation.  But  some  grievous  affliction,  by  putting 
his  faith  to  the  trial,  hath  in  a  good  measure  removed  his  doubts 
on  that  matter.  The  great  objects  of  religion,  amidst  all  these 
sad  scenes,  have  struck  his  mind  in  so  powerful  a  manner,  and 
his  heart  and  affections  have  been  so  sensibly  knit  and  united 
to  God,  that  he  has  happily  learned,  with  little  or  no  hesitation, 
to  say  in  the  language  of  the  apostle,  /  know  ivhom  I  have  be- 
lieved a.  Well !  and  should  not  so  valuable  an  acquisition  as 
this,  the  ascertaining  and  increasing  your  faith,  reconcile  you, 
Christian,  to  your  afflictions ;  or  at  least  prevent  your  forming  a 
too  hasty  judgment  of  them,  as  if  they  could  not  be  salutary  in 
their  intendment? — Again,  the  purifying  our  hearts,  the  sub- 
duing our  pride,  and  the  crucifying  our  affections  to  the  world, 
are  other  ends  proposed  by  afflictive  providences.  And  who 
is  there,  of  any  discernment  and  seriousness,  but  will  acknow- 
ledge that  these  are  objects  the  most  important  and  desirable  ? 
Our  corruptions  are  the  sources  of  all  the  miseries  we  endure. 
The  Christian  knows  it.  He  feels  it.  He  laments  it.  Above 
all  things,  therefore,  he  most  ardently  wishes,  not  only  to  have 
their  influence  restrained,  but  their  dominion  subdued.  From 
the  miserable  captivity  in  which  he  was  once  held  to  his  lusts, 
he  is  indeed  now,  by  the  grace  of  God,  delivered.  But  his  evil 
passions  still  live,  still  disturb  his  peace,  and  interrupt  his  joys. 
If  afflictions  therefore,  though  painful  to  be  endured,  are  the 
means  which  God  has  appointed  still  farther  to  weaken  and 
overcome  them ;  it  ought,  it  will  be  an  argument  to  concdiate 
the  Christian  to  such  measures.  Should  we  not  be  in  subjec- 
tion to  the  Father  of  spirits,  when  he  graciously  condescends  to 
chasten  us  far  our  profit,  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  his  holi~ 
ness  b  ?  To  resemble  God  is  the  perfection  of  our  nature. 
Set  that  man.  Christian,  before  your  eyes,  whose  honour,  whose 
happiness  this  is,  who  excels  in  meekness,  humility,  temperance, 
fortitude,  charity,  contempt  of  the  world,  and  every  other  divine 
and  heavenly  grace :  and  then  say.  Whether  it  is  not  worth 
your  while  to  undergo  the  discipline  of  temporal  diappointraents 
and  troubles,  if  you  may  by  these  means  get  at  the  rank  he 
a  2  Tim.  i.  12.  b  Heb.  xii.  9,  10. 


32©  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

holds,  and  enjoy  tlie  refined  pleasures  he  possesses  ?  But  it  is 
farther  to  be  remembered, 

That  there  arc  purposes  to  be  answered  by  these  dispensations 
in  the  world  to  come;  the  contemplation  of  which,  though  we 
have  at  present  but  a  very  general  and  imperfect  idea  of  them, 
may  contribute  greatly  to  the  pacifying  our  minds  under  the 
frowns  of  Providence.  Our  Saviour's  words  to  Peter  on  an- 
other occasion  may  be  applied  to  the  matter  before  us :  What 
J  do  thou  knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shall  know  hereafter  a. 
The  sufferings  of  the  present  life  have  a  reference  to,  and  a 
connection  with,  the  joys  of  another :  Jliey  work  for  you.  Chris- 
tian, a  far  tnore  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory  b.  If 
therefore  when  you  arrive  at  that  world  it  shall  clearly  appear, 
that  every  tear  which  fell  from  your  eyes,  every  sigh  which  arose 
from  your  breast,  and  every  sad  complaint  which  dropped  from 
your  lips,  was  over-ruled  for  your  real  good,  and  became  a  means 
of  heightening  your  bliss  and  glory  in  that  state,  If  this,  I  say, 
shall  then  clearly  appear,  as  it  most  certainly  will,  you  will  not 
regret,  but  with  infinite  gratitude  applaud  the  various  measures 
which  Providence  hath  taken  with  you.  Think  of  this — believe 
it — expect  it ;  and  you  will  be  still, 

PART  III. 

We  have  discoursed  at  larfjc  of  the  several  truths  included 
in  this  short,  but  comprehensive  sentence,  I  AM  God  ;  and 
have  shewn  how  admirably  they  are  adapted  to  relieve  and  com- 
fort the  real  Christian  under  his  afflictions.  And  it  remains, 
that  we  now, 

III.  Consider  the  regards  we  are  required  to  pay  to  these  in- 
teresting truths.     Knoiv  that  I  am  God. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  God  hath  access  to  the  heart,  and  that 
he  can,  and  sometimes  does,  by  the  exertion  of  a  special  and 
effectual  influence,  calm  the  ruffled  mind  amidst  a  tempest  of 
worldly  troubles.  It  is  enough  for  him  to  speak  the  word,  be 
still,  and  the  tumultuous  passions  of  the  breast,  as  well  as  the 
raging  waves  of  the  sea,  must,  they  will  subside.  To  this  pur- 
pose the  prophet  describes  him  as  saying,  I  create  the  fruit  of 
the  lips  ;  peace,  peace  to  him  that  i$far  off,  and  to  him  that  is 
a  John  xiii.  7.  6  2  Cor.  iv.  17,  18. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLTCTION.  S2T 

mar :  I  will  heal  him  a.  And,  whefi  he  giveth  quietness,  who 
can  make  trouble  h  ?  It  is  however  to  be  remembered,  that  God 
deals  with  men  as  reasonable  creatures.  When  he  communi- 
cates comforts  to  the  afflicted,  he  does  it  by  impressing  upon 
their  hearts  a  clear  and  lively  conviction  of  those  great  truths 
I  have  been  explaining.  So  that  they  who  enjoy  this  divine 
peace  and  composure  can  give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in 
them.  There  is  therefore  a  duty  incumbent  upon  us,  in  regard 
of  our  treatment  of  these  truths.  And  what  is  that  duty? 
Why  surely — to  well  weigh  and  consider  them — to  believe 
them,  and  so  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  them — to  endeavour  to 
apply  them  to  ourselves — and  to  pray  earnestly  to  God,  to  make 
them  effectual  for  appeasing  and  quieting  our  distressed  minds. 
All  which  is  comprehended  in  the  seasonable  and  authoritative 
admonition,  Know  that  I  am  God. 

First,  It  is  our  duty  to  well  weigh  and  consider  these  im- 
portant truths. 

They  can  have  no  effect,  unless  they  are  perceived  and  under- 
stood. This,  therefore,  should  be  our  first  object.  "  But,  ah  I 
say  you,  how  can  I  fix  my  attention  to  these  matters  at  a  time 
when  I  am  surrounded  with  gloomy  objects,  and  the  powers  of 
thought  and  reflection  are  enfeebled,  disturbed  and  broken  ?" 
True,  the  difficulty  is  very  great,  and  all  proper  allowance  should 
be  made  for  the  sharpness  of  your  affliction,  the  tenderness  of 
your  constitution,  and  the  disorder  of  your  animal  spirits.  Yet, 
if  reason  is  not  wholly  interdicted  or  suspended,  you  have  sure- 
ly some  command  of  yourself:  you  are  not  totally  lost,  over- 
whelmed and  undone.  Let  me  remind  you  then,  of  certain 
prudential  expedients  within  your  reach,  which  if  you  were  to 
make  trial  of  them,  would  go  a  good  way  towards  composing 
your  mind  to  consideration. 

Some  kinds  of  trouble  involve  persons  in  continual  intercourses 
with  the  world,  and  allow  them  little  or  no  time  for  reflection 
or  meditation.  Such  is  the  unhappiness  of  those  who  are  over- 
whelmed with  the  perplexities  of  trade  and  business,  and  of 
those  whose  poverty  obliges  them  to  work  hard  and  late.  The 
objects  of  sense  are  every  moment  pressing  upon  their  sight,  and 
what  with  contriving  how  to  extricate  themselves  out  of  their 
a  Isa.  IvU.  18,  19.  b  Job  xxxiv.  29. 


328  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

difficulties,  and  endeavouring  to  cany  their  schemes  to  that  end 
into  execution,  their  nature  is  almost  worn  out,  and  their  spirits 
and  strength  very  much  exhausted.  Now,  I  am  sensible,  it 
must  be  extremely  difficult  for  such  persons  to  apply  their  minds 
to  close  and  fixed  consideration.  Yet  it  may  be  done.  It  hath 
been  done.  Maketheexperiment,  therefore,  Christian.  With- 
draw from  the  public  view.  Spend  some  time  alone.  Endea- 
vour to  shut  the  world  out  of  your  thoughts,  and  to  impose 
silence  on  your  passions.  The  advantage  which  will  certainly 
accrue  from  such  a  recess  to  your  bodily  health,  as  well  as  to 
the  state  of  your  soul,  should  engage  you  at  least  to  attempt  it. 
Don't  object  that  you  have  not  time.  This  business  properly 
managed  will  fit  you  for  your  other  business.  And  the  pains 
you  are  at  to  recollect  yourself  on  matters  of  the  highest  moment, 
will  enable  you  the  better  to  endure  your  worldly  disappoint- 
ments. The  very  changing  the  scene  would  be  of  considerable 
service,  if  there  were  no  other  advantages  to  be  expected.  Our 
Lord,  amidst  the  hurries  of  his  public  ministry,  frequently  re- 
tired for  meditation  and  prayer ;  and  he  did  so  the  very  night 
he  was  betrayed,  and  when  all  the  circumstances  of  his  approach- 
ing sufferings  were  immediately  before  his  eyes. 

But  there  are  other  afflictions,  such  as,  particularly,  the  sud- 
den loss  of  relations  and  friends,  which  have  quite  a  different 
effect,  especially  upon  persons  of  strong  feelings,  and  a  tender 
constitution.  When  the  first  paroxysm  of  their  grief  is  over, 
we  shall  see  them  sink  into  a  languid,  melancholy,  inactive  state. 
And  having  the  gloomy  objects  of  their  sorrow  continually  be- 
fore them,  we  shall  find  them  as  indisposed,  even  in  their  so- 
litude, to  attend  to  the  great  truths  of  religion,  as  those  who 
are  perplexed  and  hurried  with  the  business  of  the  world.  What 
then  is  to  be  done  here  ?  It  is  your  duty.  Sirs,  to  rouse  your- 
selves, to  put  a  force  upon  nature,  and  to  use  all  the  means  Pro- 
vidence affords,  in  order  to  recruit  your  animal  spirits,  and  to 
restore  you  to  a  capacity  for  calm  reasoning  and  reflection. 
Set  about  the  business  of  your  stations.  Endeavour  to  di- 
vert your  thoughts  from  their  usual  channel.  Allow  your 
friends  to  converse  with  you.  And  remember,  that  that  melan- 
choly pleasure  you  are  prone  to  indulge,  is  ensnaring  and 
sinful. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  329 

But,  after  all,  there  are  few  afflictions,  however  acute  and 
pungent,  that  will  not  allow  a  man  some  intervals  of  composure, 
in  which  he  may  ripply  himself  to  the  duty  I  am  recommending. 
Such  opportunities,  therefore,  you  should  eagerly  seize,  and 
diligently  improve.  Be  all  attention,  when  you  are  in  this  tem- 
per, to  the  reasonings  and  counsels  of  your  Christian  friends, 
or  else  withdraw  from  the  world,  retire  within  yourselves,  read 
the  Bible,  fix  your  minds  to  the  interesting  truths  of  religion, 
compare  them  with  each  other,  and  apply  them  to  your  own  case. 
In  adversity  consider  a. — This  then  is  the  first  step  towards  at- 
taining that  submission,  fortitude,  and  cheerfulness  under  af- 
fliction, which  the  text  teaches.  But  the  considering  divine 
truths  is  not  sufficient.     We  must. 

Secondly,  Believe  them. 

"What  they  are  we  have  already  seen.  Ya^ow  that  I  am  God. 
— There  is  a  God.  He  governs  the  world.  He  does  all 
things  wisely,  justly,  and  well.  He  intends  our  good  by  every 
afflictive  providence,  and  hath  made  effectual  provision,  through 
the  mediation  of  Christ,  to  that  end.  Now  these  truths  are  so 
clear  and  obvious,  that  in  common  they  are  no  sooner  perceived, 
than  they  are  assented  to.  But  it  is  not  a  general  idea  of  them, 
or  the  barely  admitting  them  to  be  true,  that  will  relieve  and 
comfort  the  Christian  under  extraordinary  trials.  No.  His 
attention  must  be  steadily  fixed  to  them.  He  must  fully  and 
firmly  credit  them.  His  judgment  and  conscience  must  be 
deeply  impressed  with  their  divine  authority.  But  ah  !  this  is 
no  easy  matter.  Though  he  may  have  long  since  laid  them 
down  with  himself  as  unquestionable  truths,  and  though  he  may 
even  now  be  so  far  composed,  as  to  be  able  to  revolve  them  in 
his  mind,  yet  his  faith  hath  difficulties  to  struggle  with,  which 
before  this  were  perhaps  scarcely  imagined.  • 

There  is  a  strange  propensity  in  mankind  to  infidelity,  and  a 
degree  of  it  there  is  in  good  men  themselves.  Whence  the  apos- 
tle exhorts  us  to  take  heed  of  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief ,  in  depart- 
ing from  the  living  God  h.  Now,  in  a  time  of  affliction,  unbe- 
lief collects  strength  from  various  quarters,  and  often  becomes 
so  formidable  as  to  require  the  utmost  exertion  of  all  the  powers 
of  divine  faith,  and  of  enlightened  reason.  Firm  as  the  Chris- 
a  Eccl  vii.  M.  b  Heb.  iii.  12. 


330  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

tian's  confidence  is  in  the  existence  of  God,  in  his  wisdom,  faith- 
fulness, and  love,  in  the  mediation  of  Christ,  and  in  his  watch- 
ful care  of  every  one  of  his  people,  how  quickly  is  that  confidence 
shaken,  when  assaulted  by  strange,  dark,  and  mysterious  events 
of  Providence  !  "  Had  things  fallen  out  in  this  or  that  way,  as 
he  wished  and  expected,  he  could  easily  perceive  how  God  would 
have  been  glorified,  his  own  interests  promoted,  and  many  other 
valuable  ends  answered.  But,  what  shall  he  think  now  the  re- 
verse is  the  case  ? — the  plainest  maxims  of  reason  and  prudence, 
over-ruled  and  borne  down  by  an  obstinate  kind  of  fatality,  na- 
ture and  Providence  in  opposition  to  each  other,  and  the  pro- 
mises of  God's  word,  to  his  apprehension,  flatly  contradicted  by 
the  most  sad  and  gloomy  events."  Such  appearances,  such  ob- 
jections, such  reasonings,  put  him  for  a  while  to  the  stand.  Nor 
docs  Satan  fail,  by  his  suggestions,  to  afford  all  the  aid  he  can 
to  the  interests  of  unbelief.  Wherefore,  amidst  this  fierce  con- 
flict between  faith  and  sense,  the  Christian  finds  it  no  easy  mat- 
ter, like  Abraham,  to  hope  against  hope,  and  to  believe  that  God 
may  still  be  for  him,  though  all  things  seem  to  be  against  him. 
What  shall  he  then  in  these  circumstances  do  ?  Let  me  tell  you, 
Christian,  your  duty — 

Endeavour,  to  the  utmost  of  your  power,  to  divest  yourself 
of  prejudice  and  passion,  and  to  reflect  how  apt  we  are  to  be 
deceived  and  i-rtisled  by  appearances,  especially  when  oppressed 
and  bowed  down  with  aflSiction.  Call  up  to  your  view  the  first 
great  principles  of  religion,  which  are  clear  and  self-evident,  and 
labour  to  fix  them  upon  your  heart  and  conscience.  Set  those 
other  truths,  which  are  deducible  from  them,  in  their  fullest  and 
strongest  light,  and  give  the  several  pleas  in  favour  of  them,  a 
fair,  impartial,  and  dispassionate  hearing.  Recollect  the  impres- 
sions they  formerly  made  on  your  mind,  when  they  struck  you 
with  all  their  native  evidence  and  conviction.  Oppose  past  facts 
and  experiences,  to  your  present  apprehensions  and  feelings. 
Consider  well  the  testimony  of  others,  who  have  been  as  deeply 
afilicted  as  yourself.  And,  above  all,  cherish  in  your  breast  a 
sacred  reverence  for  the  divine  authority  of  Scripture,  resolving 
to  admit  whatever  that  teaches,  as  the  clear,  plain,  and  unalter- 
able will  of  God. — And  now,  while  you  thus  suffer  truth  to  speak 
for  itself,  and  listen  patiently  to  what  your  Bible,  your  friends. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  331 

atid  your  own  experience,  have  to  say  in  favour  of  it,  the  cla- 
mours of  sense  and  passion  will  be  apt  to  subside,  and  your  faith 
to  triumph  over  all  theeftbrts  of  unbelief.  So  will  you  believe, 
and  rejoice  in  believing.  And  so  will  your  affliction,  while  you 
thus  look  to  the  things  which  are  not  seen  and  eternal,  become 
light  and  momejitary.  But  then  this  supposes  what  I  have  far- 
ther to  recommend,  and  that  is, 

Thirdly,  The  applying  these  great  truths  to  ourselves,   and 
to  our  own  immediate  circumstances. 

The  assenting  to  them  as  true,  will  avail  little  to  our  comfort, 
if  we  have  all  the  while  a  strong  presumption  against  us,  that 
we  are  at  variance  with  God.  A  reflection  on  the  wisdom, 
power  and  justice  of  that  great  Being,  will  in  this  case,  serve 
rather  to  heighten  and  aggravate  our  grief,  than  subdue  and 
soften  it.  Nay,  an  idea  of  his  goodness,  however  pleasing  in 
itself,  will  afford  us  but  very  partial  and  insufficient  relief.  For 
how  natural  the  reasoning  ! — "  He  may  be  good,  and  yet  I  who 
have  been  his  enemy,  miserable." 

Here  I  cannot  help  observing,  of  what  vast  importance  it  is, 
that  this  great  question  is  decided,  or  however  that  a  man  is  in 
fact  a  real  Christian,  ere  it  falls  to  his  lot  to  enter  the  gloomy 
vale  of  adversity.  Afflictions  indeed  often  prove  the  salutary 
means,  with  a  divine  blessing,  of  bringing  persons  to  a  sense  of 
religion :  yet  they  must,  even  in  that  case,  be  extremely  pain- 
ful in  their  operation ;  for  what  move  tremendous  than  the  idea 
of  a  God  assuming  the  appearance  of  an  avenging  judge  ?  And 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  a  man  is  totally  insensible  to  any  of  these 
feelings,  it  must  still  be  very  unhappy  for  him  to  have  no  re- 
sources of  comfort  under  the  frowns  of  Providence,  but  such  as 
nature  or  art  supply,  and  which  are  quickly  exhausted.  How 
infinitely  desirable  then  is  true  religion  !  O  who  would  not  wish 
to  meet  the  enemy,  if  he  must  enter  the  lists  with  adversity,  in 
the  character  of  a  Christian,  armed  with  divine  faith,  rather  than 
in  the  wretchedly  defenceless  and  desperate  state  of  a  man  of 
the  world?  This  latter  case  is  sad  beyond  description.  But  to 
return — 

I  am  now  addressing  myself  to  those  who  truly  fear  God. 
And  since,  at  these  times,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  even  a 
good  man  to  question  bis  interest  in  the  divine  favour,  or  how- 


332  THE  USE  OF  RELIGIOJSr 

ever,  to  be  at  a  loss  how  to  apply  those  considerations  I  have- 
been  recommending  to  his  own  case ;  it  is  my  object  here  to  af- 
ford him  the  best  assistance  I  am  able  in  each  of  these  particu- 
lars.    And, 

1.  As  to  your  doubts,  Christian,  upon  the  matter  of  your  own 
personal  interest  in  the  favour  of  God  :  if  these  can  any  way  be 
cleared  up,  composure  and  cheerfulness  will  quickly  follow. 
Now,  it  is  hardly  to  be  expected,  that  I  should  combat  all  your 
false  reasonings  and  groundless  jealousies.  That  would  carry 
me  too  far.  Wliat  I  mean  is  only  to  throw  out  a  few  hints  for 
the  guiding  your  enquiries  upon  this  grand  question.  And 
here,  besides  the  general  advice  of  examining  well  the  state  of 
your  soul,  and  of  comparing  it  with  the  word  of  God,  and  of 
calling  to  mind  your  past  religious  experiences  :  let  me  ear- 
nestly press  you  to  a  diligent  observation  of  your  prevailing  tem- 
per under  the  present  dispensation.  Tliat^  rightly  understood, 
will  throw  a  light  upon  your  real  character.  But  before  you 
proceed,  lay  it  down  with  you  as  an  unquestionable  truth,  that 
no  inference  is  to  be  drawn  from  your  affliction  to  the  prejudice 
of  your  lilial  relation  to  God.  Do  not  say,  "  If  God  loved  me, 
he  would  not  deal  with  me  after  this  manner."  For  it  is  evi- 
dent, not  only  from  the  clearest  principles  of  reason,  but  from 
undoubted  facts,  that  the  severest  afflictions  may  be,  and  often 
are  designed  for  the  good  of  those  who  suffer  them.  Nay, 
Scripture  assures  us,  that  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth., 
and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth ;  and  that,  if  we 
were  without  chastisement^  whereof  all  are  partakers,  we  shoidd 
be  bastards  and  tiot  sons  a. 

And  now  ask  yourself,  what  is  the  temper  of  your  heart  ta- 
"wards  God  under  the  present  exercise  ?  Is  it  your  first  grand 
concern  to  be  assured,  that  God  is  not  contending  with  you  as 
an  enemy,  but  as  a  friend  ?  Do  you  dread  the  thought  of 
charging  him  unjustly,  be  the  event  of  your  affliction  what  it 
may  ?  Are  you  willing  to  admit  that  you  have  deserved  all  you 
suffer  at  his  hands,  and  a  great  deal  more  ?  Would  you  fain 
come  at  the  cause  of  his  displeasure,  being  more  solicitous  to 
have  your  sin  forgiven,  and  your  heart  made  better,  than  even 
your  affliction  itself  removed  ?  Like  Ephraim,  are  you  ashamed 
a  Heb.  xii.  6,  8> 


IJ?  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTTOlSr.  333 

and  confounded,  becmtse  you  bear  the  reproach  of  your  pride 
and  folly  a  ?  Has  your  sorrow  the  same  effect  on  you  it  had  on 
the  Corinthians  ?  Does  it  vjo7'k  hi  yoii  carefulness,  clearing 
yourself,  indignation,  far,  vehement  desire,  zeal,  revenge  b  ? 
In  a  word,  are  vour  afflictions  the  means,  not  of  making  the 
breach  between  God  and  you  wider,  but  of  softening  your  heart, 
and  bringing  you  nearer  to  God  ? — If  you  can  reply  to  these 
questions,  and  others  of  the  like  nature,  in  the  affirmative,  or  if 
these  are  the  main  objects  of  your  concern  and  attention,  you 
may  safely  conclude  that  God  is  your  friend,  and  that  he  in- 
tends you  no  real  harm  by  any  of  his  dispensations.  And  surely 
some  satisfaction  on  this  important  point,  though  it  arise  not  to 
an  assurance  of  hope,  will  tend  greatly  to  compose  your  spirits, 
and  to  reconcile  you  to  the  will  of  God. — But  there  is  some- 
thing farther  to  be  attempted,  and  that  is, 

2.  The  application  of  those  general  truths  I  have  been  recom- 
mending to  your  own  particular  case.  It  is  the  unhappiness  of 
many  good  men  to  fail  here.  Though  they  are  not  without 
hope  in  God,  yet  they  are  so  enfeebled  with  affliction,  that  they 
know  not  how  to  reason  with  themselves  in  the  same  manner, 
and  with  that  expertness  and  vivacity,  they  have  perhaps  often 
reasoned  with  others  in  the  like  circumstances.  Now,  if  j^ou 
could  have  resolution  enough  to  make  an  effort  in  this  way,  the 
effect  would  be  considerable.  Not  content  therefore  with  a  ge- 
neral persuasion  that  God  is  w'ise,  just,  faithful  and  good,  see 
whether  you  cannot  trace  out  these  characters  in  the  present 
visitation  of  his  Providence.  A  little  pains  will  possess  you  of 
not  a  few  expressions  of  gentleness  and  mercy,  amidst  the  most 
fiery  trial,  and  the  remembrance  of  them  will  wonderfully  as- 
sist and  enliven  your  broken  spirits.  This  done,  proceed  a  little 
farther,  and  consider  with  yourself  what  possibly  may  be  the  re- 
sult of  your  affliction — that  God  can  and  often  does  bring  events 
to  an  issue  little  expected,  and  by  means  as  improbable — tliat 
his  wisdom  is  more  than  equal  to  all  the  difficulties  and  perplexi- 
ties you  can  imagine — and  that  as  he  does  not  willingly  grieve 
the  children  of  men,  but  ever  delights  in  mercy,  so  he  will  very 
probably  magnify  his  goodness  in  your  deliverance.  Or,  how- 
ever this  providence  may  terminate  in  regard  of  your  temporal 
a  Jer.  xxxi.  19.  b  2  Cor.  vii.  11. 


334  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION' 

interests,  consider  what  infinite  benefit  may,  and  most  certainly 
will,  accrue  thence  to  your  nobler  part.  Here  the  most  pleas- 
ing, I  may  add  transporting,  prospects  will  rise  to  your  view, 
especially  when  you  allow  your  thoughts  to  wander  beyond  the 
line  of  time,  which  is  not  afar  off,  into  the  blissful  regions  of 
eternity.  And  in  fine,  if,  amidst  these  reflections  and  reason- 
ings, you  are  suddenly  startled  by  the  prainful  feelings  of  nature, 
or  by  contradicting  and  opposing  events,  consider  the  great  God 
as  immediately  present,  submissively  bow  the  knee  of  faith  at 
the  foot  of  his  throne,  and  obstinately  resolve  to  place  an  im- 
plicit confidence  in  him,  be  the  scene  before  you  ever  so  dark 
and  inexplisable, — It  now  remains  that  I  add  to  the  advice  akea- 
dy  given, 

Fourthly,  That  of  fervent  prayer. 

Our  obligations,  in  general,  to  this  duty,  are  founded  in  the 
doctrine  of  divine  influences ;  a  doctrine  perfectly  consonant  with 
right  reason,  and  which  makes  up  a  considerable  part  of  Scrip- 
ture-revelation. Those  to  whom  I  am  now  addressing  myself 
are  fully  persuaded  of  it :  I  shall  not  therefore  stay  here  to  ex- 
plain or  defend  it.  Nor  need  I  take  pains  to  convince  the  af- 
flicted Christian,  that  Divine  assistances  are  peculiarly  requisite 
in  a  time  of  extraordinary  trial  and  difficulty.  Your  own  sad 
experience  of  the  frailty  of  human  nature,  the  corruption  and 
pervcrseness  of  your  heart,  and  the  inconstancy  and  turbulency 
of  your  passions,  puts  the  question  with  you  beyond  all  dispute. 
Convinced  then  of  the  need  you  stand  in  of  a  superior  influence 
to  impress  the  truths  recommended  on  your  heart,  and  so  to 
render  them  effectual  for  appeasing  and  quieting  you  under  your 
troubles  ;  and  satisfied  from  the  word  of  God  that  you  have  suf- 
ficient grounds  to  hope  for  that  influence  ;  it  is  most  certainly 
your  incumbent  duty  to  pray  for  it. 

While  therefore  you  are  assured,  that  God  is  a  very  present 
help  to  them  that  fear  him  in  time  o^  trouble  a ;  that  his  grace 
is  sufficient  for  them  b ,-  that  as  their  days  their  strength  shall 
he  c  :  that  he  will  give  them  his  Holy  Spirit  d ;  and  will  never 
leave  them  nor  forsake  them  e  ;  be  persuaded  to  pour  out  your 
heart  to  him  in  fervent  prayer,  keeping  in  view  your  own  wants, 

a  Psal.  xlvi.  1.  i  2  Cor.  xii.  9.  c  Deut.  xxxiii.  25. 

d  Luke  xi.  11.  c  Heb.  xiii.  5. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  SSS 

and  these  his  gracious  and  seasonable  promises  to  the  afflicted. 
Ask,  says  our  Saviour,  and  it  shall  be  given  you  ,-  seek,  attd  ye 
shall  Jind;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  If  ye  being 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children ,-  hoiv  much 
more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them 
that  ask  him  a  ?  And,  sitice  we  have  an  High-priest  who  is 
touched  with  thefeelifig  of  our  injirmities,  let  us,  says  the  apos- 
tle, come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain 
mercy,  andjiiul  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need  b.  How  mightily 
enlivening,  soothing  and  encouraging  are  such  assurances  as 
these,  from  the  lips  of  an  infinitely  faithful  and  compassionate 
God  !  Revolve  them  in  your  mind.  Believe  them.  Plead 
them  with  God.     And  look  for  the  fulfilment  of  them. 

There  is  a  kind  of  omnipotence  in  the  prayer  of  faith.  It 
availeth  much,  says  the  apostle  James  c.  It  hath  stayed  the 
course  of  the  sun.  It  hath  stopped  the  bottles  of  heaven.  It 
hath  healed  the  sick.  It  hath  raised  the  dead.  And  though 
we  are  not  now  warranted  to  expect  any  such  preternatural  in- 
terventions of  Providence  in  our  favour;  yet  the  efficacy  of 
prayer,  through  the  mediation  of  Christ,  to  draw  down  even 
temporal  blessings,  will  upon  good  grounds  gain  credit  with 
those  who  believe  their  Bible,  and  are  carefully  attentive  to 
some  facts  which  have  fallen  within  their  own  immediate  ob- 
servation. But  waving  this,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  our  present 
purpose,  to  remark  the  great  utility  of  prayer  to  calm  the  mind 
and  soothe  the  passions,  wrought  into  a  tempest  by  disappoint- 
ment and  sorrow.  Would  you  be  still?  would  you  be  quiet, 
patient  and  submissive  to  the  will  of  Heaven  ? — Pray.  Retire 
from  the  world.  Lay  open  your  whole  soul  to  God  in  secret. 
And  thus  giving  vent  to  that  flood  of  grief,  which  hath  perhaps 
for  some  time  been  pent  up  in  your  breast,  you  will  quickly  ob- 
tain relief.  The  expedient  hath  been  tried  by  many,  and  been 
often  found  effectual.  How  sweet  and  cheerful  a  serenity  of 
mind  did  Jacob  experience,  after  he  Ijad  wrestled  with  the  angel, 
and  had  wept  and  made  supplication  to  him  d.  The  psalmist, 
having  declared  the  benefit  he  reaped  from  an  intercourse  with 
Heaven  in  this  duty,  tells  us  that  the  godly  should  hence  take 

a  Luke  xi.  9,  1 1.  b  II<;b.  iv.  15,  16.  c  Jam.  v.  16.  xoXv  t^x"-'- 

4  Cell,  xxxij.  2t— 30.  and  Hos.  xii.  -1. 


53fi  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

encouragement  to  pray,  and  adds,  surely  in  the  floods  qf  great 
waters  (perhaps  he  means  this  tempest  of  the  passions  I  have 
been  describing)  they  shall  not  come  nigh  i,nto  him  a.  And 
however  tliere  was  no  sinful  mixture  of  passion  in  that  extraor- 
dinary agitation  our  Saviour  felt  in  the  garden,  yet  it  was  by 
retiring  from  his  disciples,  and  pouring  out  strong  cries  and 
tears  unto  his  Father,  that  he  composed  himself  to  his  suffer- 
ings b.  O  then  be  persuaded,  Christian,  to  copy  after  his  ex- 
ample. 

Thus  have  I  at  large  shewn  you  the  regards  we  are  required 
to  pay  to  the  interesting  truths  contained  in  this  short  but  com- 
prehensive sentence,  I  am  God.  We  are  to  hnow^io  well 
weigh  and  consider  them — to  believe  them,  and  so  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  them — to  endeavour  to  apply  them  to  ourselves — and 
to  pray  earnestly  to  God  to  make  them  effectual  for  quieting  our 
distressed  minds. 

And  now,  let  me  close  what  has  been  said  with  an  address  to 
all  those  who  are  vmder  the  frowns  of  Providence,  and  of  whom 
these  duties  I  have  been  describing  are  more  immediately  requir- 
ed.    And, 

1.  As  to  such  who  make  light  of  their  afflictions,  or,  to  use 
the  words  of  Scripture,  despise  the  chastening  of  the  Lord  c. 
Allow  me.  Sirs,  to  expostulate  with  you  on  your  great  folly  and 
sin.  That  insensibility  which  you  account  your  happiness,  is 
not  the  stillness  and  composure  which  the  text  recommends. 
Nor  is  that  daring  resolution  of  which  you  may  perhaps  boast, 
of  the  same  nature  with  the  courage  of  a  real  Christian — a  cou- 
rage  which  is  the  effect  of  a  becoming  submission  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  a  firm  confidence  in  his  power  and  goodness.  It  is  in- 
deed wrong  to  dwell  incessantly  on  our  afflictions,  and  to  give 
an  unreasonable  indulgence  to  a  wild  and  gloomy  imagination. 
But  will  you  say  it  is  rational  or  manly,  to  be  indifferent  about 
events  that  are  interesting  and  important — to  stifle  your  sorrows 
by  thoughtlessness  and  inconsideration — or  to  drown  them  in 
vain  and  unlawful  pleasures?  From  these  sources  you  may  in- 
deed derive  some  little  present  relief,  but  that  relief  you  are 
purchasing  at  a  very  dear  rate.  Such  a  foolish  dissipation  of 
the  mind  renders  you  incapable  of  taking  the  fit  and  prudent 

a  Psal.  xxxii.  5,  6.  h  Heb.  v.  7,  8.  r  Heb.  xii.  5. 


IN  A  TIME  OF  AFFLICTION.  337 

measures  to  extricate  you  out  of  your  troubles.  And  it  will  in 
the  end  be  followed  with  a  sadness,  which  will  greatly  increase 
and  aggravate  your  distress. 

But  the  consideration  chiefly  to  be  regarded  is  the  affront  you 
hereby  offer  to  God.  It  is  his  hand  that  is  upon  you.  And 
think  you  that  he  will  not  resent  such  a  contemptuous  treatment 
of  his  providence?  Who  ever  contended  with  him  and  pros- 
pered ?  Of  Ahaz  it  is  said,  that  in  the  time  of  his  distress  he 
trespassed  yet  more  against  the  Lord :  and  a  particular  mark  is 
set  upon  him — This  is  that  king  Ahaz  a.  God  afflicts  either 
in  judgment  or  mercy :  and  there  cannot  be  a  more  sad  symptom 
of  his  judicial  displeasure,  than  the  not  feeling  our  afflictions, 
or  the  being  totally  inattentive  to  the  instruction  and   reproof 

they  are  designed  to  convey.     Those  are  alarming  words 

Ephraim  is  joined  to  idols :  let  him  alone  b.  They  woidd  none 
of  my  counsel,  they  despised  all  my  reproof:  therefore  shall  they 
eat  the  fruit  of  their  own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  oum  de- 
vices c. — In  adversity,  therefore,  consider.  Knoiv  the  rod,  and 
who  hath  appointed  it.  Eye  attentively  the  hand  of  God.  In- 
quire wherefore  it  is  he  contends  with  you.  Be  humbled  at  his 
feet.  Implore  the  forgiveness  of  what  is  amiss.  And  rest  not 
satisfied  without  feeling  the  salutary  effect  of  your  affliction,  to 
imbitter  sin  to  you,  to  wean  your  hearts  from  the  world,  and  to 
raise  your  affections  to  heaven. 

2.  As  to  those  who  are  apt  to  faint  under  tlie  rebukes  of  Pro- 
vidence— a  temper  to  which  Christians  are  usually  more  prone 
than  to  that  just  described.  With  you,  my  friends,  I  most 
tenderly  sympathise.  The  heart  ktiows  its  own  bitterness ,-  and 
all  proper  allowance  is  to  be  made  for  the  hasty  and  unguarded 
sallies  of  pungent  grief.  To  bid  you  not  feel  your  affliction, 
would  be  to  heighten  and  aggravate  your  distress.  And  to 
blame  you  for  pouring  out  your  complaints  to  those  around  you, 
would  be  cruel  and  inhuman.  Nature  will  have  its  course. 
The  tide  is  not  to  be  instantly  turned.  Yet  your  passions, 
though  they  are  not  to  be  immediately  subdued,  may  be  guided 
into  their  proper  channel,  and  be  assisted  to  some  usefid  and  im- 
portant purposes.  And  who  knows  but  the  tempest  may  by  and 
by  subside,  and  a  calm  ensue? 

a  2  Chron.  xxviii.  22.  b  Hos.  iv.  17.  c  Prov.  i.  30,  31. 

VOL.  I.  Y 


S38  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION,  &C. 

To  these  ends,  let  me  remind  you  again,  of  what  I  have  al- 
ready particularly  discoursed — There  is  a  God — That  God  go- 
verns the  world — He  has  a  right  to  govern  it — He  is  most  wise, 
just  and  good — The  measures  he  pursues,  are  all  directed  to 
some  valuable  and  important  object — He  does  not  willingly  af- 
flict the  children  of  men — You  are  not  to  conclude  from  your 
present  feelings  that  he  is  your  enemy — Others  have  been  deep- 
ly afflicted  as  well  as  you — Jesus,  the  Captain  of  your  salvation, 
was  made  perfect  through  sufferings — He  knows  how  tb  pity 
you — And  his  sorrows  have  sufficient  efficacy  in  them  to  convert 
yours  into  real  blessings.     Spend  a  thought  on  these  things,  O 
ye  that  are  afflicted,  tossed  with  tempests,  and  hitherto  not  com- 
forted a.     They  are  considerations  which  will,  however,  hold 
you  up  from  despair,  and  prevent  your  uttering  rash  censures 
on  the  ways  of  God. — "  But,  ah  !  your  minds  are  in  such  con- 
fusion, and  you  are  so  perplexed  with  doubts  as  to  your  interest 
in  the  divine  favour,  that  you  can  take  little  comfort  from  these 
considerations."     It  may  be  so.     Let  me,  however,  intreat  you 
to  turn  your  attention  for  a  while,  if  that  is  possible,  from  your 
affliction ;  to  think  with  yourselves  how  much  worse  your  condi- 
tion might  be,  it  would  have  been,  if  God  had  treated  you  ac- 
cording to  your  deserts  ;  to  consider  the  mercies  you  still  enjoy ; 
to  reflect  on  your  past  experience  of  the  Divine  goodness ;  to 
make  your  Bible  your  companion  in  these  sad  hours  of  grief  and 
melancholy;  to  give  your  Christian  friends  a  patient  hearing, 
while  they  attempt  to  comfort  you  ;  and  above  all,  to  take  sanc- 
tuary at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  there  pour  out  your  tears  of 
sorrow  to  him  who  hath  an  ear  to  hear,  and  a  heart  to  pity  the 
afflicted. 

3.  As  to  those  who  are  enabled  to  practise  the  great  duties 
I  have  been  describing ; — how  great,  my  friends,  is  your  mercy  ! 
You  may  well  glory  in  your  infirmities,  as  the  apostle  expresses 
it,  since  the  power  of  Christ  thus  rests  upon  you.  An  end,  an 
important  end,  is  already  attained  by  your  having  been  afflicted. 
O  !  let  patience  have  its  perfect  work.  Look  to  yourselves  that 
ye  lose  not  those  things  which  ye  have  wrought,  but  that  ye  re- 
ceive your  reward.  Still  confide  in  the  power,  goodness  and 
faithfulness  of  God.  Still  rely  on  the  mediation,  advocacy  and 
«  Isa,  liv.  11. 


PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION,  &C.  339 

grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And  still  expect  those  aids 
and  supports  from  the  blessed  Spirit  which  you  may  yet  need. 
And  comfort  yourselves  with  this  animating  coubideration,  that 
the  trial  of  your  faith^  which  is  much  more  precious  than  of 
gold  that  perisheth^  though  it  be  tried  with  fire,  will  be  found 
unto  praise,  and  honour,  and  glory,  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus 
Christ  a. 


DISCOURSE  XIV. 


PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION  THE  CHRIS- 
TIAN'S DUTY. 

Judges  viii.  4. Faint,  yet  pursuing-^ 


A  FIT  motto  this  for  the  arms  the  Christian  soldier  bears — de- 
scriptive at  once  of  the  fatigue  he  endures  in  the  course  of  his 
warfare,  and  of  his  resolution,  notwithstanding,  to  persevere. 
The  words,  I  am  sensible,  relate  to  quite  another  matter;  yet 
they  may,  without  any  impropriety,  be  accommodated  to  the 
great  purpose  of  animating  us  to  the  duties  of  our  Christian 
profession,  which  is  the  object  of  the  present  discourse.  But, 
before  I  proceed  to  this  improvement  of  them,  it  will  be  proper 
to  give  you  a  general  view  of  the  story  to  which  they  refer. 

The  Israelites,  having  sinned  against  God,  were  delivered 
into  the  hand  of  the  Midianites,  who  grievously  oppressed  them 
for  seven  years.  In  these  circumstances,  feeling  the  sad  effects 
of  their  folly  and  disobedience,  they  called  upon  God.  God  in 
his  great  mercy  heard  them,  and  having  first  sent  a  prophet  to 
expostulate  with  them  upon  their  ungrateful  and  rebellious  con- 
duct, raised  them  up  a  Saviour.  This  saviour  was  Gideon,  a 
person  of  little  note,  being  o^  a  family,  as  he  himself  says, /?oor 
in  Manasseh,  and  the  least  in  his  father's  house.     To  him  the 

a  1  Pet.  i.  7. 
Y    2 


340  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

Lord  appeared,  and  commanded  him  to  go  in  his  might  aftd 
save  Israel ;  at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  sign,  and  afterwards 
at  his  request  another,  to  confirm  his  faith  in  the  promise  of 
success.  Gideon,  endued  with  the  Spirit  of  God,  sets  himself 
to  the  work  he  had  undertaken.  The  altar  of  Baal  he  boldly 
attacks,  destroys  it,  and  cuts  down  the  grove  that  was  by  it. 
At  this  the  Midianites  were  highly  incensed,  as  apprehending  a 
general  revolt  to  be  intended.  Wherefore  they,  and  the 
Amalekites,  and  the  children  of  the  east,  gathered  themselves 
together,  in  prodigious  numbers,  to  subdue  this  rebellion  of  the'" 
Israelites.  Upon  which  Gideon  blew  the  trumpet,  and  assem- 
bled about  thirty-two  thousand  men  to  battle.  But  by  the 
command  of  God,  this  army,  though  inconsiderable  when  com- 
pared with  the  Midianitish  host,  was  reduced  to  three  hundred: 
for  the  honour  of  the  victory  God  was  resolved  to  secure  to  him- 
self. Before,  however,  any  thing  is  attempted,  Gideon  receives 
direction  to  repair  in  disguise  to  the  camp  of  the  enemy ;  for  he 
should  there  meet  with  a  circumstance,  which  should  fully  satisfy 
him  of  the  success  of  the  enterprise  he  was  presently  going  upon. 
To  the  camp  he  accordingly  goes,  and  mingling  himself  with  the 
soldiers,  he  hears  one  of  them  relate  a  dream,  which  another 
immediately  interprets  of  the  victory  which  the  sword  of  Gi- 
deon was  quickly  to  gain  over  them.  Assured  therefore  of  suc- 
cess he  immediately  returns,  and  prepares  for  the  engagement. 
His  three  hundred  men  he  divides  into  three  companies,  and 
puts  a  trumpet  in  every  man's  hand,  with  empty  pitchers,  and 
lamps  within  the  pitchers.  So  he  marches,  in  the  midst  of  the 
night,  to  the  outside  of  the  camp ;  when  on  a  sudden,  at  the 
word  of  command,  his  men  break  their  pitchers,  blow  their  trum- 
pets, and  cry.  The  sword  of  the  Lord,  and  of  Gideon  !  This 
strikes  such  a  terror  into  the  Midianitish  host,  that,  imagining 
themselves  betrayed,  every  man's  sword  is  turned  against  his 
fellow,  the  consequence  of  which  is  a  general  slaughter  through- 
out the  camp.  No  less  than  an  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
are  slain  ;  and  fifteen  thousand  only  make  their  escape.  These, 
with  their  princes  at  their  head,  make  the  best  of  their  way  to- 
wards the  country  beyond  Jordan ;  which  Gideon  perceiving, 
gives  orders  to  the  Ephraimites  to  take  the  waters,  that  is,  to 
pass  the  fords  before  them.     So  he  and  his  three  hundred  mea 


THE  christian's  dutv.  341 

follow :    and  at  Jordan,  as  the  text  tells  us,  they  passed  over 
faint^  yet  pursuing. — 

That  they  werejaint  was  not  to  be  wondered  at.  They  had 
endured  great  fatigue  the  past  day  and  night.  So  speedy  was 
the  pursuit,  that  they  had  little  or  no  time  to  take  proper  refresh- 
ment. And  it  is  probable  they  had  their  fears,  lest,  notwith- 
standing all  the  success  they  had  met  with,  the  remaining  few 
with  their  princes  should  escape,  should  rally  again,  and,  sup- 
ported with  fresh  succours,  should  return,  and  recover  all  the 
advantages  they  had  lost.  They  were  faint — Yet  they  pursued. 
Though  their  strength  began  to  fail  them,  and  so  their  spirits 
to  flag;  yet  they  resolved  they  would  not  give  up.  It  was  not 
enough  that  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  were  slain :  the 
whole  host  must  be  destroyed.  The  consequence  of  a  few  only 
escaping,  especially  as  their  chiefs  were  among  them,  might  be 
fatal.  To  stop  here,  therefore,  at  Jordan,  and  consider  their 
work  as  done,  would  be  very  impolitic.  So  they  would,  in  all 
likelihood,  lose  the  advantages  they  had  gained,  and  perhaps 
bring  themselves  into  a  more  wretched  state  of  servitude  than 
they  were  in  before.  So  they  would  betray  a  want  of  confidence 
in  God,  and  disgrace  themselves,  their  general,  and  the  cause 
in  which  they  were  embarked.  Whereas,  on  the  contrary,  if 
they  pursued,  the  issue,  they  had  reason  to  believe,  would  be 
glorious.  God  had  strengthened  them  hitherto,  and  why  might 
not  they  hope  he  would  still  strengthen  them  ?  What  had  hap- 
pened shewed  the  mighty  power  of  God,  and  why  should  they 
distrust  that  power?  Fewer  remained  to  be  subdued  than  had 
already  been  conquered.  Gideon,  that  man  of  God,  was  at  their 
head,  and  he  was  spiriting  them  to  the  pursuit.  It  would  be 
greatly  to  their  honour  to  reduce  the  kings  of  Midian,  and  for 
ever  henceforth,  to  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  these  cruel  princes 
to  oppress  them.  In  short,  if  they  succeeded  (as  they  had  all 
the  reason  in  the  world  to  believe  they  should),  the  evils  they 
had  endured  would  quickly  be  compensated  with  rest  and  quiet ; 
they  would  get  immortal  glory  by  this  brave  and  spirited  action  ; 
and  they  would  not  only  rescue  themselves  and  their  country 
from  servitude  and  misery,  but  be  the  happy  instruments  of  esta^ 
blishing  their  future  liberties  on  a  more  sure  foundation,  than 
they  had  now  a  long  while  enjoyed  them. — Animated,  therefore, 


342  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

with  these  considerations,  they  pursued.  And  success  attend- 
ed the  pursuit.  They  took  not  only  the  princes,  but  the  two 
kings  of  Midian,  and  discomfited  all  the  host.  Thus  were  the 
Israelites  delivered  out  of  the  hands  of  their  oppressors,  and  re- 
stored to  the  enjoyment  of  their  former  liberties  and  privileges. 

And  now,  many  useful  reflections  might  be  made  on  this  ex- 
traordinary story — on  the  miserable  and  helpless  state  to  which 
the  people  of  Israel  were  reduced,  when  God  thus  appeared  for 
thera  ;  and  which  was  the  effect  of  their  sins — on  the  great  mercy 
of  God  in  hearing  their  cries,  when  they  called  upon  him — on 
the  seasonableness  of  their  salvation,  and  the  extraordinary 
means  by  which  it  was  obtained — and  on  the  valour  of  Gideon 
and  his  men  in  pursuing  the  advantages  which  God  had  given 
thera.  On  these  things,  1  say,  we  might  make  many  useful 
reflections  of  a  general  kind. 

Nay,  as  the  Jewish  state  had  a  reference  to  the  Christian,  and 
the  events  of  the  one  were  many  of  them  figurative  of  that 
great  event  which  took  place  at  the  establishment  of  the  other; 
I  might  accommodate  this  story  of  the  redemption  of  Israel  to 
our  redemption  by  Christ.  I  might  shew  you  that  the  subjec- 
tion of  mankind  to  sin  and  Satan  and  death,  is  far  more  abject 
and  wretched  than  that  of  the  Israelites  to  the  princes  of  Midian 
— that  as  their  deliverance  was  of  God,  so  is  ours — that  as 
God  raised  them  up  a  saviour  from  the  lowest  of  the  people,  and 
who  was  yet  a  mighty  man  of  valour;  so  he  has  raised  us  up  a 
Saviour  out  of  Nazareth,  and  who  is  yet  his  own  Son — that  as 
their  salvation  was  evidently  owing  to  the  divine  interposition, 
and  yet  was  not  effected  without  means  ;  so  is  ovrs — and  that 
as  the  advantages  of  that  victory  which  Gideon  obtained  for 
them,  were  to  be  eagerly  pursued  by  them ;  so  we  are  to  work 
out  our  salvation  icithfear  and  trembling,  and  to  oppose  with 
vigour  our  spiritual  enemies,  knowing  that  Christ  by  his  death 
has  secured  the  victory  for  us.  On  all  these  things  I  might  en- 
large :  but  I  shall  wave  most  of  them,  and  take  up  only  the 
last  idea  mentioned. — 

Christ  by  his  death  has  obtained  a  conquest  for  us  over  all 
the  powers  of  darkness :  but  our  enemies  are  not  so  far  defeated 
as  not  ta  exist,  or  to  be  totally  discouraged  from  any  farther  at- 
tejnpt  towards  our  ruin.     Animated  therefore  by  what  our  Cap- 


THE  christian's  DUTt.  343 

tain  hath  done,  and  the  advantages  we  have  ourselves  already 
gained,  we  are  to  push  the  victory.  It  is  a  warfare,  and  a  pain- 
ful one  too :  and  it  may  be  we  are  sometimes  upon  the  point  of 
fainting.  But,  though  faint,  we  must  pursue. — Now  in  order 
to  excite  you  to  the  great  duty  of  perseverance  in  religion,  to 
which  you  see  I  have  accommodated  the  language  of  the  text, 
I  propose, 

I.  Briefly  to  describe  the  Christian  warfare ;  and, 

II.  To  consider  the  various  temper  and  conduct  of  the  good 
man  amidst  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  it;  and  the  reasons 
of  his  faintness  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  his  resolution  to 
persevere  on  the  other. 

I.  Let  me  give  you  some  general  description  of  the  Christian 
warfare. 

The  life  of  a  real  disciple  of  Jesus  is  frequently  thus  repre- 
sented in  Scripture.  Vtcir  a  good  warfare  a.  Fight  the  good 
fight  of  faith  b.  Endure  hardness,  as  a  good  soldier  of  Christ  c. 
If  it  be  asked.  What  is  the  Cause  he  asserts  ?  and  what  are  the 
grounds  of  the  quarrel  ?  I  answer,  It  is  the  cause  of  God  and 
Christ,  the  cause  of  truth  and  liberty,  a  cause  in  which  his  pre- 
sent interest,  and  his  future  and  everlasting  welfare  are  inti- 
mately concerned.  It  is  a  dispute  upon  a  question  of  infinite 
importance,  Whether  he  shall  be  happy  or  miserable  ?  a  slave 
to  the  most  cruel  and  despotic  tyrants,  or  a  servant  to  him  who 
alone  can  make  him  free  ? — If  it  be  asked,  W^ho  the  Enemies 
are  with  whom  he  has  to  contend?  They  are  these — Satan,  the 
prince  of  the  power  of  the  air,  that  great  foe  of  God  and  man, 
who,  as  a  roaring  lion,  walketh  about  seeking  tchom  he  may 
devour  d — Wicked  men,  and  the  opposers  of  Christ,  who  are 
the  emissaries  of  Satan — The  world  with  all  its  pomps  and 
vanities — And  the  evil  passions  and  corruptions  of  the  heart. 
Enemies  numerous,  subtle  and  malicious.  Strong  ones,  who 
have  wounded  and  cast  down  thousands ;  who  give  no  quarter, 
but  to  those  who  will  quietly  yield  to  their  usurpation,  and  ig- 
nominiously  submit  to  their  unlawful  power;  and  who,  if  they 
cannot  conquer,  will  do  their  utmost  to  distress,  afflict  and  tor- 
ment.    Enemies  who  are  ever  upon  the  watch,  either  artfully 

a  1  Tim.  i.  18.  h  Chap.  vi.  12. 

c  2  Tim.  ii.  2,  3,  rf  2  Pet.  v.  8. 


344  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

to  betray  the  Christian  into  sin,  or  else  openly  to  assault  him 
with  temptation. — The  Conflict^  it  may  from  hence  be  conclud- 
ed, is  often  fierce  and  violent,  and  sometimes  to  appearance  of 
very  doubtful  issue.  Many  are  the  stru^fgles  the  good  man 
suffers  within,  betwixt  flesh  and  spirit,  grace  and  corruption. 
Many  the  attacks  made  upon  him  by  the  objects  of  sense,  by 
the  alluring  prospects  of  gain,  honour,  and  pleasure,  and  by  the 
threats  of  poverty,  reproach  and  persecution.  Many  the  trials 
he  endures  from  pride,  unbeliel',  sloth,  passion,  and  other  evil 
affections.  Many  the  subtle,  and  perhaps  blasphemous,  insinua- 
tions of  the  great  adversary.  And  many  the  doubts,  fears,  and 
tumults  of  his  own  breast.  Sometimes  victory  seems  to  incline 
6n  the  side  of  the  Christian,  and  at  other  times  on  that  of  the 
enemy. — And  then  as  to  the  Captain  under  whose  banner  he 
fights,  and  the  JVecpons  with  which  he  is  furnished  for  the  bat- 
tle. Christ  is  his  Captain :  an  able,  skilful,  generous  com- 
mander ;  who  has  himself  waged  war  with  these  enemies,  and 
bravely  withstood  their  united  and  most  violent  assaults ;  who 
by  his  grace  has  called  the  Christian  into  the  field,  armed  him 
for  the  fight,  and  assured  him  of  all  needful  supports  in  the 
time  of  temptation  and  danger.  The  shield  of  faith,  the  helmet 
of  salvation,  the  breast-plate  of  righteousness,  and  the  sword  of 
the  Spirit,  are  the  weapons  he  has  provided  ;  and  success  he  has 
promised  to  all  them  who  heartily  engage  in  his  service. — In  a 
word,  the  great  Object  proposed  is  the  total  overthrow  of  sin, 
Satan  and  death  ;  a  happy  manumission  of  freedom  from  the 
servitude  of  these  base  and  cruel  tyrants:  and  the  everlasting 
enjoyment  of  God  in  the  world  to  come. — A  noble  warfare  this  ! 
A  warfare  in  which,  you  see,  by  reason  of  the  corrupt  and  apos- 
tate state  of  human  nature,  we  are  necessarily  engaged,  unless 
we  will  be  for  ever  miserable.  A  warfare  which  promises  the 
happiest  success,  as  it  is  founded  in  the  mediation  of  the  Son  of 
God.  And  a  warfare  in  which  millions  have  been  engaged  be- 
fore us,  prophets,  apostles  and  martyrs,  yea,  the  blessed  Jesus 
himself.  In  fine,  a  warfare,  which,  though  it  be  painful,  is  but 
short ;  and  which,  though  it  may  draw  after  it  many  outward 
inconveniences  and  many  inward  sorrows,  yet  is  glorious  in  itself, 
and  shall  in  the  issue  be  crowned  with  joys  and  triumphs  and 
pleasures  inconceivable  and  without  end. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  S  DUTY.  345 

Thus  you  liave  a  general  view  of  this  warfare.  Which  leads 
mc  to  consider, 

II.  The  various  temper  and  conduct  of  the  Christian,  amidst 
the  toils  and  labours  of  it ;  and  the  reasons  of  his  many  dis- 
couragements on  the  one  hand,  and  of  his  resolution  to  perse- 
vere on  the  other.  We  cannot  surely,  under  certain  circum- 
stances, better  describe  him,  than  sls  faint,  yet  pursuing. 

First.  Let  us  view  him,  as  he  sometimes  is,  Jaifit  and  dis- 
pirited. 

The  most  intrepid  soldier  that  ever  took  the  field,  has,  upon 
some  occasions,  trembled,  or  however  felt  a  degree  of  timidity. 
And  the  man  whose  constitution  is  the  most  robust  and  health- 
ful, cannot  always  boast  of  an  exemption  from  faintness  and 
weariness.  No  wonder  then  that  such,  at  certain  intervals,  is 
the  sad  experience  of  the  Christian,  in  regard  of  the  great  con- 
cerns of  religion.  Ah  !  how  do  his  spirits  languish,  and  how 
docs  his  strength  fail  him  !  What  anxious  care  is  there  in  his 
countenance,  and  what  feebleness  in  his  hands  !  His  soul  melts 
like  wax  within  him,  and  his  knees  smite  one  against  another. 
He  knows  not  how  to  march  forward,  how  to  charge  the  enemy, 
or  how  to  use  the  weapons  given  him.  The  powers  of  his  mind 
are,  as  it  were,  sunk  and  broken,  and  the  very  nerves  of  his  soul 
relaxed  and  enfeebled.  So  it  sometimes  was  with  David,  as 
appears  from  his  many  sorrowful  complaints  in  the  book  of 
Psalms.  And  so  it  was  with  the  disciples  of  our  Lord,  at  the 
instant  their  Master  was  contending  with  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness. But  how  is  this  ?  To  what  is  it  to  be  ascribed  ?  Why, 
perhaps, 

1.  To  the  past  toils  and  labours  they  have  endured. 

He  who  has  borne  the  hardships  of  a  long  campaign,  or  is 
just  emerged  from  some  furious  encounter  with  the  enemy,  or 
halts  a  moment  in  the  midst  of  a  long  pursuit,  will  be  apt  to  feel 
some  degree  of  languor.  His  spirits  will  flag,  and  his  heart  faint. 
In  like  manner  will  the  Christian  be  affected  with  the  fatigues  of 
his  warfare.  Frequent  and  daily  struggles  with  inward  corrup- 
tions, and  with  outward  temptations,  will  oppress  and  sink  even 
his  animal  spirits,  especially  when  he  has  been  foiled,  or  the  ene- 
my through  surprise  has  gained  any  advantage  against  him.  It  is 
sad  to  hear  the  complaints  that  now  and  then   drop  from  his 


346  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

lips.  "  Ah  !  how  long  shall  I  be  thus  dispirited,  and  almost 
worn  out  with  the  incessant  clamour,  and  repeated  vexatious  at- 
tacks of  these  foolish  passions  !  How  long  shall  the  world,  with 
its  anxious  cares  and  concerns,  its  vain  hopes  and  prospects, 
assault  ray  judgment,  and  lead  captive  my  affections  !  Woe  is 
me  that  I  sojourn  in  Meshech,  and  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Keder  ! 
O  that  I  had  the  wings  of  a  dove  !  then  would  I  fly  away,  and. 
be  at  rest."  It  was  this  kind  of  faintness  in  his  warfare,  which, 
in  a  degree  however,  the  apostle  felt,  when  he  uttered  that 
sorrowful  complaint — O  wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death  a  !  And  the  like  was  the 
experience  of  the  holy  psalmist  when  he  cried  out,  My  soul 
cleaveth  to  the  dust :  quicken  thou  me,  according  to  thy  word  b. 

In  such  manner  also  is  the  Christian  sometimes  affected  by 
the  active  duties  and  services  of  his  profession.  The  work  in- 
deed to  which  Christ  calls  us,  brings  in  the  end  its  own  reward 
with  it:  Great  peace  have  tliey  which  love  thy  law,  and  nothing 
shall  offend  them  c.  And,  in  keejnng  his  commands,  there  is 
great  reward  d.  Yet  there  is  no  serving  the  interests  of  reli- 
gion, especially  in  some  particular  stations,  without  suffering 
pain  and  fatigue.  He  who  is  zealous  for  the  glory  of  God, 
and  laborious  in  his  endeavours  to  do  good,  will,  on  some  oc- 
casions, through  an  extraordinary  exertion  of  his  spirits  and 
strength,  feel  great  lassitude  and  weariness.  Nor  is  it  possible 
to  struggle  long  with  the  passions  and  prejudices  of  wicked  men, 
and  boldly  to  stem  the  torrent  of  vice  and  sin,  which  ever  ex- 
poses such  who  attempt  it  to  more  or  less  reproach  and  perse- 
cution, without  sometimes  enduring  a  languor  and  depression  of 
animal  nature. — His  fatigues  then  of  body  and  mind,  arising 
from  repeated  conflicts  with  sin  and  sense,  with  Satan,  the 
world  and  his  own  heart,  and  from  the  labours  of  his  particular 
station  and  calling,  are  one  cause  of  the  Christian's  fainting. 

2.  This  sad  circumstance  may  sometimes  be  owing  to  the 
want  of  proper  refreshment. 

The  people  who,  under  Saul,  pursued  the  Philistines,  not 
having  tasted  food  for  a  whole  day,  it  is  said,  fainted  e.  Nor 
was  it  to  be  wondered  at.     Without  the  seasonable  and  neces- 

a  Rom.  vii.  2k  b  Psal.  cxix.  25.  c  Psal.  cxix.  165. 

d  Psal.  xix.  11.  el  Sain.  xiv.  31. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  347 

sary  supports  of  life,  a  man's  spirits  will  sink,  and  bis  strength 
fail  hira.  Such  then,  in  another  sense,  is  the  cause  of  that  lan- 
guor and  weariness  the  Christian  sometimes  feels.  The  im- 
mortal mind  requires  food  to  sustain  it,  as  well  as  the  body.  Its 
views,  desires,  hopes  and  expectations  must  be  fed  and  kept 
alive  by  objects  suited  to  its  renewed  nature,  or  it  will  grow 
ftiint  and  sickly.  And,  blessed  be  God  !  there  is  in  the  gospel 
of  Christ,  in  its  doctrines  and  promises,  the  richest  entertain- 
ment for  the  faith  and  hope  of  a  Christian.  But  alas  !  some- 
times, through  the  ill  state  of  his  spiritual  health,  he  has  little 
or  no  appetite  to  these  provisions.  Or  if  he  has,  yet  through 
the  want  of  the  divine  blessing,  they  do  not  refresh  and  nourish 
him  as  might  be  wished.  Now  when  God  withholds  his  en- 
livening presence,  when  past  cheerful  scenes  are  forgotten, 
when  future  bright  and  animating  prospects  are  veiled,  and 
when  perplexing  doubts  arise  as  to  his  interest  in  the  divine 
fiivour,  is  it  strange  that  he  faints  ? — that  his  soul  like  David's, 
is  cast  down  within  him  a  ? — and  that,  like  him  of  whom 
Isaiah  speaks,  ivalking  in  darkness  and  seeing  no  light,  he  is 
gloomy,  afflicted  and  discouraged  b. 

And  this  is  the  sad  and  mournful  experience  of  some  Chris- 
tians in  the  midst  of  their  warfare,  and  of  those  too,  who  in  the 
general,  are  hearty  and  resolute  in  the  cause  of  religion.  Hun- 
gry and  weary,  their  souls  faint  within  them.  And  how,  in 
these  circumstances,  to  contend  with  the  powers  of  darkness, 
they  know  not.  Like  the  Jews  in  their  captive  state,  they  hang 
their  harps  on  the  willows,  and  have  no  heart  to  sing  the  song 
of  the  Lord  in  a  strange  land.  But  such  dejection  as  this,  how- 
ever uncomfortable  and  distressing  for  the  present,  may,  and 
will  in  the  end  turn  to  their  account.  A  wise  and  merciful 
God  permits  them  to  faint  for  a  while,  that,  perceiving  their 
own  weakness,  they  may  be  secured  from  presumption  and  self- 
confidence  ;  and  that  he  may  magnify  his  grace  in  the  relief 
and  comfort,  he  designs  in  their  extremity  to  afford  them.  So 
the  apostle  was  just  on  the  point  of  fainting,  when  the  Captain 
under  whose  banner  he  fought,  and  of  whom  he  had  thrice  be- 
sought assistance,  said  unto  him,  My  grace  is  svfficicntfor  thee  c. 
Again, 

a  Psal.  xllii.  5.  h  Isa.  1.  10.  c  2  Cor.  xii.  9. 


348  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

3.  They  sometimes  faint  through  the  dread  of  being  over- 
come. 

This  is  the  case,  at  certain  seasons,  with  the  best  of  men,  and 
those  who,  upon  the  whole,  are  not  chargeable  with  pusillanimity 
and  cowardice.  And  how  such  fear  is  generated  in  the  heart 
may  be  easily  imagined.  To  be  modest,  diffident,  jealous  and 
suspicious,  1  mean  in  regard  of  himself,  and  the  dangers  to 
which  he  is  exposed,  is  the  proper  character  of  a  real  Christian. 
Now  these  tempers,  when  balanced  with  a  lively  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  the  influence  of  divine  providence 
and  grace,  are  of  the  greatest  use,  and  subserve  the  most  im- 
portant purposes.  But  when  the  good  man  loses  sight  of  these 
great  objects,  and  is  overwhelmed  with  the  darkness  and  dis- 
couragements of  unbelief,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  his  humility, 
diffidence  and  jealousy  must  degenerate  into  servile  and  dis- 
tressing fears.  In  such  a  sad  situation  he  views  the  enemy  in 
the  most  formidable  light.  The  powers  he  has  to  contend  with 
%eem  to  him  unconquerable  ;  as  did  the  Canaanites  to  the  men 
of  Israel,  upon  the  report  of  the  spies.  Their  strength,  malice 
and  address  strike  him  with  the  utmost  dread.  And  while  he 
reflects,  how  many  have  been  subdued  by  their  oppressive 
power,  and  how  feeble  are  his  warmest  efforts  to  resist  them ; 
forgetting  at  the  same  time,  the  advantages  he  has  already  gain- 
ed, and  the  aid  and  support  promised  him  in  the  Bible ;  while, 
I  say,  he  is  thus  enveloped  in  darkness,  and  surrounded  on 
every  side  with  gloomy  objects,  he  can  hardly  forbear  pronoun- 
cing victory  on  the  side  of  the  enemy  :  "  Ah  !  I  shall  one  day 
perish  by  their  hand,"  as  said  David  of  Saul  a.  Thus  ener- 
vated and  broken,  no  wonder  he  faints,  or  at  least,  is  in  a  dis- 
position to  faint. 

Yet,  amidst  all — though  his  fast  fatigues  have  been  great — 
though  he  is  in  want  of  present  refreshment — and  though  he  is 
nearly  overwhelmed  with  the  sad  apprehension  of  being  over- 
come ;  he  still  resolves  in  the  strength  of  God  he  will  pursue. 

The  grounds  of  this  resolution  are  next  to  be  considered. 
In  the  mean  time  let  us  make  two  or  three  reflections  on  what 
hath  been  said. 

a  1  Sam.  rxvii.  1. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  849 

1.  We  see  that  undisturbed  rest  and  tranquillity  are  not  to 
be  expected  here.  Of  life  in  general  it  may  be  affirmed,  ihat 
it  is  a  warfare.  But  the  idea  is  peculiarly  applicable  to  the 
present  state  and  condition  of  a  Christian.  Wherefore  they 
greatly  mistake  it,  who  enter  upon  a  profession  of  religion  with 
high  expectations  of  enjoying  an  uninterrupted  series  of  felicity. 
This  in  the  nature  of  things  cannot  be.  The  very  idea  of  a 
warfare  teaches  the  contrary.  Take  heed  then.  Sirs,  how  you 
entertain  such  flattering  hopes  as  these.  Religion,  it  is  true, 
is  the  most  cheerful  thing  in  the  world.  It  is  the  best  remedy 
for  our  fears,  and  the  noblest  cordial  for  our  fainting  spirits, 
amidst  the  vicissitudes  and  troubles  of  life.  Yet,  such  is  the  de- 
pravity of  human  nature,  so  powerful  are  the  impressions  which 
sensible  objects  make  upon  our  hearts,  so  inconstant  our  pas- 
sions, and  so  various  our  frames,  that  we  do  not,  we  cannot  al- 
ways enjoy  that  composure,  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  which  re- 
ligion in  its  own  proper  nature  is  adapted  to  excite  and  pro- 
mote. Nor  is  it  fit  we  should.  For  if  this  were  the  case,  we 
should  be  apt  to  consider  the  present  state  as  our  rest,  and  be 
in  no  disposition  to  strike  our  tents,  and  march  forward  to  the 
promised  land.  Besides,  there  are  purposes  of  as  great  real 
utility  to  be  served  by  the  difficulties  and  sorrows  the  Christian 
endures  in  his  way  to  heaven,  as  by  the  hopes  and  comforts  with 
which  he  is  sometimes  distinguished.  Think  it  not  strange 
then,  that  you  are  frequently  dispirited,  fatigued  and  cast  down. 
Such  hath  been  the  lot  of  other  good  men  before  you.  This  is 
a  state  of  warfare.  You  are  in  an  enemy's  country;  at  best 
like  a  wayfaring  man  at  an  inn,  not  yet  come  to  the  rest,  the  in- 
heritance which  the  Lord  your  God  hath  given  you  a. 

2.  The  Christian  you  see,  may  be  reduced  very  low,  and  yet 
not  overcome.  This  I  mention  for  the  encouragement  of  the 
truly  sincere  and  humble  disciple  of  Jesus,  who  is  almost  over- 
whelmed with  doubts  and  fears  as  to  the  issue  of  the  conflict. 
It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  persons  in  these  circumstances  to 
improve  that  dejection  of  mind  they  feel  into  an  argument 
against  themselves,  and  to  reason  from  thence  that  God  hath 

a  Ex  vita  ita  discedo  tanquam  ex  hospitio,  non  tanquain  ex  domo:  commor- 
andi  eniin  natura  diversorium  nobis,  non  habitandi  locum  dedit.— Cic.  Dc 
Senscl.  ii3. 


350  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

forsaken  them,  and  that  therefore  they  shall  fall  by  the  hands  of 
their  enemies.  But,  besides  the  consideration  just  now  men- 
tioned, that  others  have  been  as  deeply  dejected  as  you,  it  should 
be  remembered,  that  your  dejection  may  turn  to  your  account, 
provided  it  be  not  unreasonably  indulged.  God  often  permits 
us  to  feel  our  own  weakness,  that  we  may  with  the  greater  fer- 
vency implore  divine  assistance.  And  when  this  is  the  case,  we 
are  in  much  less  real  danger,  however  gloomy  and  discouraging 
our  own  apprehensions  may  be,  than  if  we  were  self-confident, 
rash  and  precipitate.  It  hath  also  frequently  been  observed, 
that  when  the  enemy,  elated  by  some  sudden  and  partial  success, 
have  presumptuously  called  the  day  their  own,  there  hath  been 
a  turn  in  favour  of  the  oppressed  party,  succours  have  come  in 
to  their  relief,  they  have  rallied  again,  and  returned  to  the  fight 
with  greater  resolution  and  success  than  ever.  And  why  may 
you  not  hope  that  this  will  be  your  case  ?  Be  of  good  courage, 
Christian.  Stand' to  your  post.  Trust  in  God.  And  depend 
upon  it,  obstinate  as  the  assault  may  be,  you  shall  yet  come  off 
more  than  conqueror  through  him  icho  hath  loved  you. 

3.  Let  those  who  have  as  yet  felt  little  faintness  in  this  con- 
flict, take  heed  how  they  presume.  Firmness  of  natural  consti- 
tution, vigour  of  animal  spirits,  and  the  warm  zeal  of  early  life 
in  the  cause  of  religion,  do  sometimes  prove  snares  to  persons 
of  an  upright  mind.  The  commendable  caution  and  thought- 
fulness  of  other  Christians  they  are  apt  to  construe  into  mdif- 
ference  and  sloth  ;  and  are  too  prone,  through  want  of  expe- 
rience and  reflection,  to  conclude  concerning  themselves,  that 
they  are  superior  to  every  possible  difficulty  and  discouragement. 
If  I  speak  to  any  such,  let  me  entreat  you,  Sirs,  to  beware  how 
you  indulge  this  uncharitable  and  vain  temper  of  mind.  Every 
approach  towards  self-confidence  and  presumption  is  dangerous, 
and  will  give  the  enemy  an  advantage  against  you.  Let  not  him 
that  girdefh  on  his  liarness,  boast  himself  as  he  that  putteth  it  off. 
Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling.  God 
sometimes  perm.its  the  youths  to  be  faint  and  weary,  and  the  young 
men  to  fall ;  while  in  his  great  mercy  he  giveth  power  to  the 
faint,  aifid  to  them  that  have  no  might  he  increaseth  strength  a. 

a  Isa,  xl.  29,  30. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  351 

Mingle  therefore  caution  with   your  zeal,  and  self-diffidence 
with  all  your  firmness  and  resolution. 

PART  II. 

We  have  seen  the  Christian ya/«^/w^  amidst  the  fatigues  of 
his  warfare.     And  we  are  now  to  view  him, 

Secondly,  Resuming  his  wonted  courage,  and  in  the  strength 
of  divine  grace,  resolving  to  pursue.  "  He  will  not  ignomi- 
niously  submit.  No.  He  will  keep  the  field — maintain  the 
conflict — push  the  victory."  A  brave  resolution  this  !  A  reso- 
lution to  which  he  feels  himself  impelled  by  gratitude,  duty  and 
interest.  He  considers  what  will  be  the  consequence  of  yield- 
ing on  the  one  hand,  and  of  pursuing  on  the  other.  In  order 
therefore  to  animate  you,  Christians,  to  perseverance,  h^t  me  re- 
present to  you  these  consequences  in  all  their  solemnity  and  im- 
portance. 

I.  What  will  be  the  effect,  should  you  thi*ow  down  your 
arms,  yield  to  the  enemy,  and  apostatize  from  your  profesion? 

I  am  satisfied  indeed,  that  he  who  is  well  affected  to  the  cause 
of  Christ,  and  engages  in  it  upon  right  principles,  will  be  vic- 
torious. Of  this  we  may  be  assured,  not  only  from  the  nature 
of  religion  itself,  which  is  described  as  a  wellofivater  spring- 
ing up  unto  everlasting  life  «,  as  the  anointing  which  abideth 
in  them  that  have  received  it,  and  as  seed  which  remaineth  in 
him  who  is  born  of  Godb ;  but  likewise  from  many  clear  and 
express  promises  to  that  purpose,  which  I  must  not  stay  here  to 
recite.  Yet  it  is  very  observable,  that  the  Christian  is  frequent- 
ly so  addressed,  exhorted  and  reasoned  with  in  the  Bible  as  if  the 
event  of  his  profession  were  doubtful.  Let  usfear^  lest  a  pro- 
mise being  left  us  of  entering  into  his  rest,  any  of  you  should 
seem  to  come  short  of  it  c.  Brethren,  give  diligence  to  make  your 
calling  and  election  sure,- for  if  ye  do  these  things,  ye  shall  never 
faild.  And  the  apostle,  having  exhorted  the  Corinthians  so  to 
run  as  that  they  might  obtain,  thus  speaks  concerning  himself: 
/  keep  under  my  body,  and  bring  it  into  suhjectioti ;  lest  that  by 
any  means,  when  I  have  preached  to  others,  I  myself  should  be  a 
cast-away  e.     Now,  though  the  event  is  well  known  to  God, 

a  John  iv.  14.  b  1  John  ii.  27.  ;  iii.  9.  c  Ileb.  iv.  I. 

d  2  Pet.  i.  10.  e  1  Cor.  ix.  2i,  27. 


352  TERSLVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

and  he  will  most  certainly  fulfil  the  unalterable  promises  of  his 
grace ;  yet  there  is  the  greatest  propriety  in  these  admonitions 
and  cautions.  For  since  God  deals  with  us  as  reaconable  crea- 
tures, and  since  it  is  unquestionably  our  duty  to  persevere ;  ad- 
dresses of  this  sort  are  the  fittest  means  to  quicken  us  to  dili- 
gence and  watchfulness,  and  so  to  subserve  the  great  end  which 
infinite  wisdom  and  mercy  propose,  even  our  everlasting  salva- 
tion. The  utility  also  of  these  general  exhortations,  clearly  ap- 
pears from  a  reflection,  that  men  are  prone  to  deceive  themselves 
as  to  their  state  towards  God,  and  that  the  characters  of  good 
and  bad  are  too  often  blended  under  a  profession  of  religion. 
I  am  fully  justified  therefore,  by  the  example  of  Scripture,  and 
that  founded  on  the  truest  reason,  in  warning  the  Christian  of 
the  dreadful  consequences  of  apostacy,  and  so  urging  him  to  per- 
severance.    Consider  then, 

1.  That  if  you  are  so  unhappy  as  to  yield,  you  will  lose  the 
advantages  you  have  already  gained.  So  says  the  apostle  John, 
Look  to  yourselves,  that  we  lose  not  those  things  which  we  have 
wrought,  but  that  ice  receive  a  full  reward  a.  He  who  has 
been  any  time  engaged  in  this  warfare,  must  needs  have  reaped 
some  of  the  fruits  of  it.  And  how  sad  !  to  struggle,  and  then 
yield  ;  to  get  the  victory  in  a  few  instances,  and  through  weari- 
ness and  inconstancy  to  lose  the  benefit  resulting  from  it.  Some 
there  are  of  this  character,  who  hanng  set  their  hand  to  the 
plough,  look  back.  Nor  is  their  condition  to  be  enough  lament- 
ed !  With  at  least  an  appearance  of  zeal  and  resolution,  they 
commenced  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  and  for  a  while  gave  fair  and 
promising  hopes  to  those  around  them,  that  they  would  shine 
with  distinguished  lustre  in  the  rank  they  filled.  Advantages 
they  had  gained.  They  had  reformed  their  lives,  shook  off  their 
former  vain  company,  got  the  better  of  some  ill  habits,  assumed 
the  venerable  name  of  Christians,  and  perhaps  endured  reproach 
for  the  sake  of  religion.  But  alas  !  they  grew  weary,  they  de- 
sisted, they  gave  up.  And  such  was  the  sad  issue  of  all  their 
faint  struggles,  their  heartless  prayers,  their  partial  reformations. 
O  what  pity  !  Ye  did  run  well,  we  may  say  to  such,  in  the 
language  of  the  apostle,  who  did  hinder  ?  Where  is  the  blessed- 
ness ye  spake  of?  are  ye  so  foolish  ?  having  begun  in  the  spirit, 

a  2  John  8. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  353 

are  ye  noiv  made  perfect  by  the  flesh  ?  Have  ye  suffered  so  many 
things  hi  vain  a  ? 

Now  their  conduct,  lamentable  as  it  is,  may  be  improved  by 
the  real  Christian  to  his  own  unspeakable  advantage.  Look 
back  on  your  past  engagements,  and  say,  Whether  you  can 
find  it  in  your  heart  to  renounce  them  ?  Call  to  mind  what  you 
have  endured,  and  what  you  have  enjoyed,  and  ask  yourself, 
Whether  you  can  be  content  to  lose  the  things  you  have  thus 
wrought^  andwo^  to  receive  a  full  reward'?  You  are  perhaps,  at 
present,  borne  down  with  doubts,  and  fears,  and  sorrows.  But 
will  you,  after  the  many  cries  and  tears  you  have  poured  out  to 
Heaven,  after  the  many  vows  and  resolutions  you  have  formed, 
after  the  many  attacks  you  have  sustained  from  stubborn  and 
powerful  corruptions,  and  after  the  many  signal  victories  you 
have  won ;  will  you,  I  say,  after  all  give  up  ?  If  so,  you  have 
prayed  in  vain,  you  have  fought  in  vain,  you  have  suffered  in 
vain,  you  have  conquered  in  vain. — But  it  is  farther  to  be  re- 
membered, 

2.  That  if  vou  do  not  pursue,  you  will  not  only  lose  the  ad- 
vantages you  have  gained,  but  you  will  be  overcome.  An4 
what  so  much  to  be  dreaded  as  a  defeat,  a  total  defeat,  a  defeat 
in  such  a  cause  as  this,  and  which  draws  after  it  consequences, 
the  most  important  and  alarming?  Here  shame  and  misery  pre- 
sent themselves  to  our  view.  Nor  let  us  hastily  dismiss  them 
from  our  attention.  Give  them  a  place.  Christian,  at  least  for 
a  while,  in  your  most  serious  thoughts.  I  speak  to  him  who, 
instead  of  renewing  the  fight,  parlies  with  temptation  ;  who,  in- 
stead of  enduring  hardness  as  a  good  soldier  of  Christ,  is  unhap- 
pily sunk  into  a  careless,  neutral,  indolent  state. 

Dread  of  shame  is  a  powerful  incentive  to  action.  It  is  so 
with  every  brave  and  ingenuous  mind.  And  if  to  conquer  is 
glorious  h,  to  be  conquered,  especially  in  the  cause  you  are  en- 
gaged, and  in  the  situation  you  are  placed,  must  be  base  and  ig- 
nominious to  the  last  degree.  The  triumphs  of  Satan  !  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  world  !  the  triumphs  of  inbred  lusts  and  passions'! 
;how  ungrateful,  how  mortifying,  how  insufferable  in  the  ear  of 
^lim,  who  hath  conceived  a  sovereign  contempt  for  these  enemies 
of  God  and  man  !  and  who  hath  long  since  judged  their  usurpa- 

n  Gal.  V.  7.  iv.  15.  iii.  3,  4.  b  Kakev  to  vikkv.     Euiip. 

VOL.  I,  Z 


3a4r  PERSEVERANCE  IX  RELTtilON 

tion  and  dominion,  the  most  abject  and  wretched  yftk^,  that  can 
possibly  be  imposed  on  an  immortal  mind !  And  yet  these  taunts, 
these  reproaches  you  must  endure,  if  you  submit.  To  this  pur- 
pose our  Saviour  speaks  under  a  different  metaphor,  If  a  manlay 
the  foundation  of  a  building,  and  is  not  able  to  finish  it,  they  that 
behold  it  will  begin  to  mock  him,  saying,  this  man  began  to  buildy 
and  was  not  able  to  finish  a. — Consider  likewise,  Christian,  the 
dishonour  which  such  a  base  submission  may  reflect,  through 
the  perverse  reasonings  of  wicked  men,  on  the  noble  cause  you 
have  asserted,  on  the  generous  Captain  under  whose  banner  you 
fight,  and  on  the  brave  company  in  which  you  are  enrolled.  A 
thought  this  which  cannot  but  sensibly  touch  his  heart,  who  en- 
ters into  the  genuine  spirit  of  religion,  and  feels  an  unconquer- 
able attachment  to  Christ,  and  to  his  fellow-disciples.  It  is  a 
striking  paissage  of  one  of  the  ancient  fathers,  who,  in  order  to 
rouse  Christians  from  their  sloth,  and  to  animate  them  in  their 
warfare,  represents  Satan  as  thus  contrasting  the  services  of  hig 
disciples,  to  those  of  Christ's  disciples,  and  so  upbraiding  him 
with  the  baseness  and  perfidy  of  such  who  call  themselves  Chris- 
tians. "  For  those,  O  Christ,  whom  thou  seest  with  me,  I  have 
not  been  buffeted,  scourged  or  crucified;  I  have  not  shed  my 
blood  for  them,  nor  redeemed  them,  though  they  are  my  family, 
at  the  expencc  of  my  passion  and  death  :  no,  nor  do  I  promise 
them  a  heavenly  kingdom,  or,  having  restored  to  them  immor- 
tality, invite  them  back  again  to  paradise.  And  yet  they  pre- 
sent me  gifts  exceeding  great  and  precious,  and  acquired  with 
much  pains  and  labour.  Shew  me  now,  O  Christ,  any  of  thy 
disciples,  who,  though  they  are  instructed  by  thy  precepts,  and 
shall  receive  for  earthly,  heavenly  things,  have  yet  the  gratitude 
to  make  thee  such  expensive  returns  as  these. — With  these  my 
terrene  and  perishing  gifts  (meaning  the  spectacida  or  public 
shews  frequent  at  that  time)  no  one  is  fed,  or  clothed,  or  com- 
forted ;  they  all  perish  in  the  idle  vanity  of  deceiving  pleasures, 
between  the  madness  of  him  who  exhibits,  and  of  those  who  be- 
hold them. — Thou  promisest  eternal  life  to  them  that  serve 
thee ;  and  yet  thy  servants,  whom  thou  wilt  thus  honour  with 
divine  and  heavenly  rewards,  scarcely  equal  mine,  who  amidst 
all  their  labour  perish.  O  !  my  dear  brethren,  adds  the  pious 
a  Luke  xiv.  29,  30. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  355 

Father,  what  shall  we  answer  to  these  things  a?" — Shrely  then, 
it  the  not  having  served  Christ  with  that  zeal  and  attention  which 
his  generosity  and  love  demand,  is  a  just  occasion  of  shame  and 
sorrow;  disgrace  and  infamy  must  be  the  lot  of  him  who  abso- 
lutely deserts  the  service  of  such  a  Master,  and  enlists  again 
under  the  banner  of  Satan. 

Nor  is  reproach  and  shame  the  only  effect  of  such  conduct : 
it  must,  it  will  be  followed  with  misery^  both  in  this  life,  and  in 
that  which  is  to  come.  Doubtless  there  is  some  kind  of  plea- 
sure which  wicked  men  feel  in  the  indulgence  of  their  lusts; 
but  is  that  pleasure  capable  of  proving  a  temptation  to  you, 
Christian,  to  renounce  your  allegiance  to  Christ — you  who  have 
known  what  the  opposite  pleasures  mean  ?  Or,  if  it  may  he  sup- 
posed for  a  moment  to  shake  your  resolution,  does  it  not  lose 
all  its  force,  when  you  come  to  reflect  on  the  perplexity,  guilt 
and  horror  it  draws  after  it  ?  Can  you  think  calmly  of  being  re- 
duced to  your  former  state  of  vassalage  and  slavery,  or  of  being 
treated  with  far  greater  indignity  and  cruelty,  than  Pharaoh 
treated  the  Israelites,  or  Nebuchadnezzar  the  Jewish  prince  ? 
Can  you  be  content  not  only  to  be  spoiled  of  all  your  wealth, 
and  stripped  of  your  royal  raiment,  but  to  have  your  eyes  put 
out,  your  feet  bound  with  fetters  of  brass,  and  a  loathsome  dun- 
geon appointed  you  for  your  residence  ?  yet  such  must  be  your 
hard  lot  if  you  submit.  If  sin  and  Satan,  and  the  world  tri- 
umph, it  must  be  at  the  expence  of  truth,  honour,  peace,  and 
every  thing  that  is  dear  to  you.  Reason  must  be  dethroned, 
the  judgment  perverted,  the  conscience  enslaved,  and  the  pas- 
sions, all  of  them,  led  away  into  the  most  painful  and  wretched 
servitude.  And  can  you  submit  to  these  miseries?  Be  it  so 
that  you  are  greatly  dejected  and  borne  down  with  past  fatigues, 
the  want  of  present  refreshment,  and  doubtful  apprehensions  as 
to  the  issue  of  the  combat.  Yet  even  this  state  is  preferable  to 
that  of  a  slave.  If  you  tamely  surrender  yourself  into  the  hands 
of  your  enemies,  you  will  be  held  faster  in  the  chains  of  cap- 
tivity than  ever ;  you  will  contract  guilt  upon  your  conscience, 
which  will  either  sooner  or  later  become  intolerable ;  and  the 
end  will  be  ruin,  total  irrecoverable  ruin.  '  When  the  unclean 
spirit,'  says  our  Saviour,  '  is  gone  out  of  a  man,  he  walketh 
a  Cyprian.      Edit.  Oxon.  p.  206. 

z2 


356  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

through  dry  places,  seeking  rest,  and  findeth  none.  Then  he 
saith,  I  will  return  into  my  house  from  whence  I  came  out,  and 
when  he  is  come,  he  findeth  it  empty,  swept  and  garnished. 
Then  goeth  he,  and  taketh  with  himself  seven  other  spirits  more 
wicked  than  himself,  and  they  enter  in  and  dwell  there,  and  the 
last  state  of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first  a.'  To  the  same 
purpose  says  the  apostle  Peter,  '  If  after  they  have  escaped  the 
pollutions  of  the  world,  through  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord 
and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ,  they  are  again  entangled  therein  and . 
overcome,  the  latter  end  is  worse  than  the  beginning.  For  it 
had  been  better  for  them  not  to  have  known  the  way  of  righte- 
ousness, than  after  they  have  known  it,  to  turn  from  the  holy 
commandment  delivered  to  them  b.' 

It  is  sad  to  describe  the  fearful  state  of  the  apostate,  when 
conscience  is  thoroughly  roused  from  its  sleep,  when  the  harbin- 
gers of  death  warn  him  of  his  approaching  dissolution,  and  the 
terrors  of  the  last  judgment  set  themselves  in  array  before  him. 
His  countenance,  his  gesture,  his  language,  loudly  express  the 
anguish  of  his  spirit.  "  Ah  me  !  how  deplorable  is  my  con- 
dition !  All  is  darkness  around  me,  all  horror  and  misery  be- 
fore me.  I  am  undone,  utterly  undone.  No  assistance  is  to 
be  obtained  from  without,  no  source  of  comfort  can  I  find  with- 
in. My  conscience  condemns  me,  and  the  sentence  of  a  justly 
provoked  God  seals  my  condemnation.  My  friends  stand  aloof 
from  me,  and  the  powers  of  darkness  triumph  over  me.  Sorer 
punishment  awaits  me  than  was  inflicted  on  the  disobedient  Is- 
raelites. And  I  am  worthy  of  it,  for  I  have  trodden  under  fodt 
the  Son  of  God,  I  have  counted  the  blood  oj"  the  covenant,  whercr- 
with  I  was  sanctified  an  unholy  thing,  and  I  have  done  despite 
unto  the  Spirit  of  grace.  And  now  there  remaineth  no  more 
sacrifice  for  sins,  but  a  certain  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment, 
and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries  c.  O 
miserable  wretch  that  I  am  !  I  fall  a  victim,  a  deplorable  victim 
to  my  own  perverseness  and  impiety,  to  the  rage  and  malice  of 
devils,  and  to  the  just  resentments  of  him  who  is  a  consuming 
fire."  And  O !  who  can  imagine  the  tremendous  conse- 
quences?  

a  Matt.  xii.  43—45.  b  2  Pet.  u.  20,  21.  c  Heb.  x.  26—29. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  S57 

Will  it  not  then  be  madness  to  halt,  to  throw  down  your  arms, 
to  submit  ! — But  I  forbear  any  farther  to  address  the  passions 
oi  shame  and^ear,  and  proceed, 

II.  To  lay  before  the  timorous  and  discouraged  Christian 
such  considerations,  as  are  adapted  to  quicken  and  enliven  him, 
amidst  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  his  spiritual  warfare.  Here 
then  let  me  remind  you, 

1.  Of  the  goodness  of  the  cause  wherein  you  are  embarked. 

There  are  two  different  and  opposite  interests  established  in 
our  world,  which  divide  the  affections  and  pursuits  of  all  man- 
kind. The  one  is  that  of  error  and  sin,  the  other  that  of  truth 
and  religion.  Over  the  former  presides  Satan,  over  the  latter 
Christ.  The  grand  object  of  the  god  of  this  world  is  to  enslave 
the  souls  of  men,  and  to  make  them  miserable  for  ever.  To 
which  end  he  employs  in  his  service  all  the  arts  of  error,  flattery 
and  deception,  and  all  the  powers  of  worldly  emolument,  sensual 
gratification,  and  evil  example.  And,  as  in  the  beginning,  he 
seduced  and  corrupted  the  human  race,  so  by  these  measures  he 
still  farther  blinds  the  eyes  of  men,  hardens  their  hearts,  cap- 
tivates their  affections,  and  confirms  them  in  their  apostacy. 
Under  his  banner  the  great  part  of  mankind  is  enlisted;  and 
to  his  artifice,  and  their  own  corrupt  inclinations,  are  to  be  as- 
cribed all  the  ignorance,  wickedness  and  misery  which  prevail 
over  the  earth.  On  the  contrary,  the  great  object  which  Christ 
proposes  is  as  generous  and  noble,  as  his  is  iniquitous  and  ma- 
levolent. It  is  to  rescue  men  from  the  dominion  of  Satan  and 
their  lusts,  to  reduce  them  to  their  allegiance  to  the  blessed 
God,  and  to  make  them  happy  both  here  and  hereafter.  And 
the  grand  mean  he  has  appointed  to  this  end  is  the  gospel, 
wherein  a  discovery  is  made  of  the  most  interesting  and  import 
tant  truths,  all  admirably  adapted,  with  a  divine  influence,  to 
throw  light  upon  our  dark  minds,  to  give  a  new  bias  to  our  de-f 
praved  affections,  and  to  guide  and  influence  our  conduct.  Now, 
it  is  to  the  guidance  of  this  leader  that  you,  Christian,  have 
submitted  yourself.  And  surely,  there  is  every  imaginable  mo-* 
tive  arising  out  of  this  great  cause  in  which  you  are  engaged, 
to  inspire  you  with  resolution  and  constancy. 

It  is  the  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness.  If  religion  were 
a  cunningly  devised  fable,  its  great  author  an  impostor,  its  doc- 


358  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION 

trines  false  and  erroneous,  its  precepts  severe  and  unreasonable, 
and  its  promises  flattering  and  deceitful,  it  were  not  to  be  won- 
dered that  you  should  grow  faint  and  weary  in  the  defence  of 
it.  Zeal  in  such  a  cause  would  be  highly  criminal;  and  in  the 
end  would  prove  as  vain  and  fruitless,  as  it  is  base  and  inglorious. 
But  the  reverse  is  the  case  here.  Religion  is  founded  in  the 
truest  reason,  and  is  most  acceptable  to  God.  You  have  no 
doubt.  Christian,  that  the  dominion  which  Satan  claims  over 
mankind,  is  a  most  iniquitous  and  cruel  usurpation,  and  that  the 
principles,  passions  and  pursuits  of  the  men  of  this  world,  are  a 
shameful  perversion  of  all  the  laws  of  truth,  equity  and  good- 
ness. You  are  well  assured  that  Jesus  your  Almighty  Saviour 
came  from  God,  that  the  great  object  of  his  mission  was  not 
only  most  just  and  equitable  but  generous  and  kind,  that  his 
doctrine  is  according  to  godliness,  his  precepts  fit  and  becoming, 
and  his  promises  faithful  and  true.  In  a  cause  therefore  so 
righteous  in  itself,  and  in  favour  of  which,  God  has  given  the 
clearest  and  fullest  attestations,  you  may,  you  ought  to  be  cou- 
rageous.    Great  is  the  truth,  and  it  will  prevail. 

It  is  also  farther  to  be  remembered,  that  this  is  a  cause  to 
which  you  are  attached  by  all  possible  obligations  of  gratitude 
and  love.  You  fight  in  defence  of  the  honour,  interest  and 
kingdom,  not  only  of  your  rightful  sovereign,  but  of  your  great 
deliverer  and  friend.  If  the  ardent  concern  of  a  prince  for  tho 
happiness  of  his  subjects,  if  his  condescending  to  the  meanest 
offices,  his  enduring  the  most  painful  labours,  and  exposing 
himself  to  the  greatest  hazards  to  secure  and  promote  their  es- 
sential interests,  are  reasons  why  they  should  cheerfully  venture 
their  lives  and  fortunes  in  his  service  ;  motives  of  this  sort  may 
be  urged  with  peculiar  advantage  in  the  present  case.  Itis  im- 
possible fully  to  describe  the  cordial  and  unshaken  affection 
of  Christ  for  his  disciples,  the  disgrace,  pain  and  anguish  he 
has  endured  on  their  behalf,  and  the  exalted  honours,  joys  and 
pleasures  he  has  procured  for  them,  at  the  expence  of  his  pre- 
cious blood.  Think  of  the  bliss  and  glory  he  possessed  in  the 
world  above.  Contemplate  the  humble  form  in  which  he  ap^ 
peared  here  on  earth.  Call  up  to  your  view,  his  immense  la^s- 
hours  and  exquisite  sufferings.  Follow  him  from  Bethlehem 
to  Golgotha.     View  him  resolutely  contending  with  the  powers 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  359 

«f  darkness,  patiently  bearing  the  cruel  abuse  of  Jews  and  Ro- 
mans, and  meekly  offering  his  life  a  sacrifice  to  divine  justice 
on  the  cross — doing  and  suffering  all  this,  to  reconcile  you  to 
God,  to  set  you  free  from  the  slavery  of  sin,  to  secure  to  you 
the  substantial  blessings  of  religion  here,  .and  to  entitle  you  to 
A  crown  of  glory  hereafter.  Reflect  on  these  things,  and  say, 
Whether  so  kind  a  Friend,  so  generous  a  Saviour,  and  so  re- 
nowned a  Prince,  may  not  demand  your  warmest  affection,  your 
firmest  allegiance,  and  your  most  unwearied  services  ?  Does 
not  the  lively  remembrance  of  these  great  obligations,  inspire 
you  with  new  resolution  and  vigour,  when  discouraged  and  borne 
down  with  the  fatigues  of  your  warfare  ! 

Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten,  that  this  is  a  cause  wherein  your 
ewn  interest  is  nearly  concerned.  That  was  the  object  which, 
as  you  have  seen,  the  Son  of  God  proposed  in  becoming  the 
Captain  of  your  salvation.  And,  whilst  you  are  fighting  under 
his  banner,  you  are  pursumg  that  object.  You  are  contending, 
jiot  for  the  perishing  enjoyments  of  this  world,  but  for  unfading 
honours,  substantial  pleasures,  durable  riches  and  righteousness. 
And  can  you  be  neutral  or  indifferent  in  a  cause  so  essentially 
important  as  this  ?  Or  shall  it  be  in  the  power  of  the  enemy, 
by  any  kind  of  opposition,  to  intimidate  you,  when  the  question 
is.  Whether  you  shall  be  happy  or  miserable,  the  vassal  of  Satan 
or  a  servant  of  the  living  God?  Every  advantage  you  gaiii 
against  your  lusts  possesses  you  of  a  present  reward.  And  are 
not  peace  of  conscience,  a  sense  of  the  divine  favour,  and  a 
joyful  hope  of  future  and  endless  felicity,  objects  deserving  of 
your  most  ardent  attention  and  pursuit? — blessings  which  will 
more  than  compensate  all  the  discouragements,  pains  and  sor- 
rows you  endure,  in  your  conflicts  with  sin  and  sense? — In  a 
cause  therefore  so  just,  so  noble,  so  interestuig,  it  i^  criminal 
to  be  indifferent,  it  is  dishonourable  to  be  timorous. 

2.  Anothef  animating  consideration  is,  the  seasonable  and 
effectual  support  you  may  depend  uppn  receiving,  in  the  course 
of  your  warfare. 

It  were  wrong  to  flatter  ourselves  with  a  notion,  that  the  dif- 
ficulties we  have  to  contend  with  as  Christians,  are  few,  occa- 
sional, and  of  trifling  consequence.  He  who  hath  any  know- 
ledge of  his  own  heart,  and  is  at  all  acquainted  with  the  worlds 


S60  persevera'nce  in  religion 

must  be  sensible  that  this  is  a  very  great  mistake.  Kor  am  I 
afraid  even  to  magnify  these  difficuhies,  while  I  have  such  en- 
dourao-ements  and  assistances  to  oppose  to  them,  as  the  word  of 
God  insures,  and  the  wisest  and  best  of  men  have  found  to  be 
every  way  adequate  and  sufficient.  Admitting  then  that  you 
have  very  many  corruptions  to  struggle  with ;  that  your  world- 
ly connections,  businesses  and  concerns  are  all  of  them  exceed- 
ino-ly  perplexing  and  ensnaring;  that  Satan  and  his  emissaries 
use  their  utmost  endeavours  to  subdue  and  enslave  you ;  that 
you  have  little  knowledge  and  experience,  many  prejudices  and 
weaknesses,  a  deceitful  heart  and  inconstant  passions :  and,  in 
fine,  that  you  are,  of  yourself,  unequal  to  the  powerful,  united 
and  continued  assaults  of  these  your  enemies :  yet  you  have  no 
reason.  Christian,  to  be  discouraged.  Say  not,  in  the  language 
of  Elisha's  servant,  when  he  beheld  the  city  encompassed  with 
a  host  of  the  Syrians,  Alas^  Master,  hoiv  shall  we  do  ?  For  it 
may  be  replied  in  the  words  of  the  prophet,  They  that  be  with 
ns,  are  more  than  they  that  be  with  them  a, 

God  is  with  you :  nor  have  you  any  just  ground  to  question 
it.  The  cause  is  his.  You  engaged  in  it,  at  his  instance,  with 
the  help  of  his  grace,  and  from  a  desire  to  approve  yourself  to 
him,  as  well  as  to  escape  the  miseries  with  which  you  was  threat- 
ened. Think  you  then  that  he  will  desert  you,  or  that  he  will 
withhold  that  support  you  need  ?  He  will  not.  He  hath  said 
he  will  not:  and  he  is  fiiithful  who  hath  promised.  Fear  not, 
lam  with  thee :  be  not  dismayed,  I  am  thy  God :  I  will  strength- 
en thee,  yea  Iivill  help  thee,  yea  I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right 
hand  of  my  righteousness  b.  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee : 
for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness  c.  No  weapon  that 
is  formed  against  thee  shall  prosper  d.  I  loill  never  leave  thee 
nor  forsake  thee  e.  You  may  therefore  boldly  say,  The  Lord  is 
my  helper  f;  through  God  I  shall  do  valiantly  ;  for  he  it  is  that 
shall  tread  down  my  enemies  g.  Guided  by  unerring  wisdom, 
defended  by  Almighty  power,  and  sustained  by  infinite  compas- 
sion and  goodness,  what  dangers  may  you  not  escape  !  what  dif- 

6.  2  Kings  vi.  15,  16.  b  Isa.  xli.  JO.  c  2  Cor.  xii.  9. 

d  Isa.  liii.  17.  e  Heb.  xiii.  5.  /Ver.  6. 

g  Psal.  Ix.  12. 


THE  CHRISTTAN's  DUTY.  861 

ficulties  may  ycu  not  surmount !  what  wonders  may  you  not  per- 
form ! 

Christ  also  is  your  Captain.  And,  in  his  character,  conduct 
and  example,  you  have  every  possible  consideration  to  animate 
and  encourage  you.  Need  1  remind  you  of  the  transcendent  ex- 
cellencies he  possesses  ;  his  skill  and  address,  his  magnanimity 
and  resolution,  his  tenderness  and  love  ?  These  he  eminently 
displayed,  during  his  own  personal  conflict  with  the  powers  of 
darkness,  in  the  days  of  his  flesh.  And  now  he  is  in  heaven, 
he  exerts  them  for  the  defence  and  support  of  his  followers  in 
their  militant  state.  He  was  made  perfect  through  sufferings, 
that  he  might  bring  many  sons  unto  glory.  To  give  them  a  title 
to  victory  he  died,  and  to  secure  the  victory  to  them  he  lives. 
For  this  great  purpose  he  employs  all  his  influence  on  their  be- 
half; an  influence  which  extends  over  universal  nature,  and  is 
subject  to  no  controul  whatever.  With  his  divine  Father  he 
uses  his  interest,  in  the  character  of  Mediator,  that  they  may 
prevail.  The  affairs  of  providence  he  adjusts  in  such  a  manner, 
as  to  contribute  to  the  success  of  their  cause.  The  malice  of 
their  enemies  he  restrains,  their  schemes  he  detects  and  coun- 
teracts, and  their  haughty  power  he  checks  and  subdues.  With 
a  compassionate  eye  he  looks  down  upon  them,  when  over- 
whelmed with  the  troubles  of  life,  when  wearied  and  broken  by 
painful  conflicts  with  sin  and  sense,  and  when  discouraged  and 
oppressed  with  numerous  and  grievous  temptations.  Nor  does 
he  fail,  on  certain  occasions,  by  various  means,  such  as  his  word, 
his  ordinances,  and  the  seasonable  influence  of  his  grace  and 
Spirit,  to  comfort  their  drooping  hearts,  and  to  strengthen  their 
feeble  hands.  The  bruised  reed  he  will  not  breaks  and  smok- 
ing flax  he  ivill  not  quench,  until  he  send  forth  judgment  unto 
victory  a.  And  have  not  these  considerations,  Christian,  thus 
addressed  to  your  own  feelings,  the  most  animating  effect  ? 

I  might  here  also  put  you  in  mind  of  the  weapons  with 
which  you  are  furnished,  the  company  in  which  you  are  enlist- 
ed, and  the  wages  you  receive.  You  do  not  meet  the  enemy 
naked  and  defenceless.  He  who  leads  you  into  the  field,  first 
commands  you  to  put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all  to 

a  Matt.  xii.  20. 


362  PERSEVERANCE  IN  RELIGION' 

Stand  a.  Truth  is  your  girdle,  righteousness  your  breast-plate, 
faith  your  shield,  salvation  your  helmet,  the  word  of  God  youi? 
sword,  and  your  feet  are  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel 
of  peace.  Your  fellow-soldiers  are  the  excellent  of  the  earth, 
the  loyal  subjects  of  the  Prince  of  peace,  the  sons  of  God,  the 
heirs  of  glory — not  a  few  only,  but  an  hundred  and  forty  and 
four  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands,  whom  no  man  can 
number.  And  the  wages  appointed  you  are  adequate  to  your 
necessities,  yea  more  than  enough  for  your  subsistence,  such  I 
may  add  as  will  largely  compensate  all  your  pains  and  sorrows ; 
even  the  satisfaction  of  a  peaceful  conscience,  the  pleasures  re- 
sulting from  communion  with  God,  and  the  joys  on  certain  oc- 
casions which  arise  from  the  unclouded  prospects  of  a  future 
blessed  immortality. 

And  now,  clad  in  armour  proof  against  every  assault — led  oa 
by  a  Captain  of  unconquerable  magnanimity — supported  by  a  nu- 
merous body  of  saints  and  confessors,  all  shouting.  The  sword 
OF  the  Lord  and  his  Christ — angels  with  wishful  eyes 
waiting  the  event — a  cloud  of  witnesses  on  every  side,  marking 
your  conduct — and  you  yourself.  Christian,  pouring  out  inces- 
sant cries  to  Heaven,  to  prosper  the  enterprise — I  say,  thus  ad- 
vancing, in  defence  of  the  noblest  cause  that  was  ever  asserted, 
and  relying  upon  the  power  and  faithfulness  of  Almighty  God, 
What  have  you  to  fear? — Victory,  complete  victory,  shall 
crown  the  day.     And  so  I  am  led, 

3.  and  lastly,  To  describe  the  triumph  which  will  succeed  the 
fatigues  and  dangers  of  this  painful  warfare — 

Describe  it,  did  I  say  ?  It  is  not  to  be  fully  described.  The 
utmost  I  can  do  is  only  to  draw  out  some  faint  and  general  re- 
presentation of  it.  The  scene  will  be  glorious  beyond  all  ima- 
gination, as  may  naturally  be  concluded  from  the  greatness  of 
the  cause,  the  fierceness  of  the  contention,  the  zeal  with  which 
Christ  has  interested  himself  in  it,  and  the  important  conse- 
quences it  draws  after  it.  If  to  subdue,  totally  subdue,  the 
most  haughty,  cruel,  and  powerful  enemies  ;  if  to  emerge,  in 
the  full  enjoyment  of  health,  out  of  all  the  horrors  of  »var ;  if 
to  return  home,  richly  laden  with  the  spoils  of  victory ;  if  to 
be  crowned  with  the  applauses  of  his  prince  and  his  country, 
a  Eph.  Ti.  10—18. 


THE  christian's  DUTY.  ,  363 

smd  henceforth  quietly  to  possess,  not  only  his  liberties,  but  an 
affluence  of  all  earthly  good:  if  these  are  the  prospects  which 
animate  the  soldier  in  the  day  of  battle,  and  push  him  on  to  the 
most  hazardous  enterprises;  What  may  not  you.  Christian,  ex- 
pect, as  the  fruit  of  that  far  more  noble  conflict  in  which  you 
are  engaged  ?  The  moment  death  has  done  his  office,  your  toils, 
and  pains,  and  sorrows,  shall  for  ever  cease,  and  an  endless  du- 
ration of  unutterable  bliss  and  glory  commence.  Amidst  the 
applauding  shouts  of  friendly  angels,  and  the  joyful  congratu- 
lations of  fellow-saints,  your  immortal  spirit  shall  ascend  to  the 
mansions  of  the  blessed.  Jesus,  the  great  Captain  of  your  sal- 
vation, shall  welcome  you  thither,  and  in  the  presence  of  that 
illustrious  assembly,  with  his  own  lips  pronounce  you  conqueror. 
"  This  is  he  who  dared  to  enter  the  lists  with  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness, maintained  the  fight  amidst  a  thousand  dangers,  and  has 
now  won  the  prize.  I  saw  him,  bravely  asserting  the  cause  of 
God  and  truth,  and  resolutely  contending  with  his  own  heart, 
the  world,  and  the  devil.  I  beheld  him  amidst  the  many 
vicissitudes  of  this  short  but  painful  warfare — sometimes 
almost  borne  down  by  ignorance  and  error,  prejudice  and 
passion,  flattery  and  reproach,  perplexing  doubts  and  dis- 
couraging fears — and  then,  animated  by  a  ray  of  divine  hope, 
resuming  fresh  courage,  and  resolving,  in  the  strength  of 
God,  to  conquer  or  die.  His  silent  reasonings  I  noticed. 
His  sorrowful  complaints  I  watched.  His  earnest  cries  I 
heard.  The  aid  he  implored  was  granted  him.  Out  of  weak- 
ness he  became  strong.  He  waxed  valiant  in  fijjht.  The 
armies  of  sin  and  death  he  put  to  flight.  Though  faint,  he 
pursued.  The  last  blow  is  now  given.  His  warfare  is  accom- 
plished. Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant !  enter  thou  into 
the  joy  of  thy  Lord."  So  shall  he  be  arrayed  with  the  robes 
that  conquerors  wear,  and  receive  at  the  hands  of  Jesus,  the 
righteous  Judge,  the  palm  of  victory,  and  diadem  of  glory. 
And  O  !  what  rapturous  joys  will  circulate  around  his  heart, 
while  he  reflects  on  the  dangers  he  has  escaped,  and  remembers 
with  infinite  gratitude,  that  the  victory,  glorious  as  it  is,  is  wholly 
to  be  ascribed  to  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  !  while  he  feels  with- 
in, the  satisfactions  which  result  from  a  consciousness  of  perfect 
knowledge,  purity  and  happiness  !   while  he  casts  his  eye  around 


364  BELIGION  AK 

him,  upon  the  bright  and  numerous  assembly  to  which  he  is 
united  !  and  while  he  looks  forward  to  a  duration  of  felicity  and 
glory  which  shall  know  no  end  ! 

And  now  say,  Christian,  Whether  all  these  considerations 
have  not  a  mighty  effect  to  animate  you  to  perecverance  ?  Can 
you  resist  their  united  force  ? — the  goodness  of  the  cause — the 
seasonable  and  effectual  support  you  may  depend  upon  receiving 
— and  the  victory,  the  glorious  victory,  which  shall  crown  the 
day.    Be  persuaded,  therefore,  though  faint,  yet  to  pursue. 


DISCOURSE  XV. 


RELIGION  AN  ABIDING  PRINCIPLE. 

Phil.  i.  6. — Being  confident  of  this  very  thing,  that  he  which 
hath  begun  a  good  work  in  you,  will  perform  it  until  the  day 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

C^ONFIDENCE,  in  matters  of  a  doubtful  nature,  is  generally  con- 
sidered as  an  expression  of  great  ignorance  and  folly.  And 
with  good  reason — For  if  men  were  sensible  of  the  weakness  of 
their  intellects,  of  the  powerful  influence  of  prejudice  and  pas- 
sion, and  of  the  various  arts  by  which  error  too  often  insinuates 
itself  into  the  mind;  they  would  be  cautious  how  they  hastily 
pronounced  upon  either  opinions  or  facts,  where  the  evidence  is 
at  all  defective.  Yet,  a  modest  diffidence  of  our  own  judgment 
will  by  no  means  justify  scepticism,  or  a  continual  habit  of 
doubting.  There  are  some  truths  so  plain  and  self-evident,  that 
it  would  argue  a  criminal  disaffection  of  the  heart  to  them,  as 
well  as  a  most  unreasonable  incredulity,  were  we  to  withhold 
our  assent.  And  there  are  others,  which  though  not  discover- 
able by  the  liglit  of  nature,  yet  being  clearly  laid  down  in  scrip- 
ture,  we  may  be  confident  of  their  authenticity.  And  even 
these  will  admit  of  such  an  appeal  to  impartial  reason,  as  serves 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  365 

rather  to  strengthen  than  diminish  their  force.  Men  divinely 
inspired  might,  indeed,  peremptorily  demand  the  credit  of  their 
hearers  to  the  doctrines  and  facts  they  reported  to  them,  with- 
out entering  into  a  particular  explanation  of  them.  Yet,  we 
find  both  Christ  and  the  apostles  taking  pains  to  establish  the 
principles,  upon  which  the  truths  they  delivered  were  founded, 
in  order  thereby  more  fully  to  convince  their  disciples  of  the 
reasonableness  and  importance  of  such  truths. 

An  instance  of  this  we  have  in  the  passage  just  read.  That 
spirit  of  discernment  with  which  the  apostle  was  endued,  might 
perhaps  have  authorised  him  to  pronounce  confidently  concern- 
ing the  future  state  of  the  Philippians,  and  upon  such  issue  he 
might  have  put  the  matter.  He,  however,  does  not  rest  the  ar- 
gument here ;  but  enters  into  thfe  principles  and  grounds  of  his 
confidence,  which  were  in  every  view  as  level  to  their  compre- 
hensions and  conviction  as  to  his.  With  pleasure  he  remem- 
bered their  fellowship  in  the  gospel,  that  is,  their  holy,  humble, 
exemplary  behaviour,  from  the  beginning  of  their  profession 
until  that  time.  From  thence  he  clearly  inferred  the  soundness 
of  their  conversion.  And  satisfied  that  their  conversion  was  the 
work  of  God,  he  from  this  principle  fairly  concluded,  that  what 
God  had  thus  begun  he  would  in  due  time  bring  to  perfection. 
This  was  a  kind  of  reasoning  obvious  to  the  plainest  understand- 
ing; and  which  may,  I  think,  without  the  charge  of  rashness  or 
undue  confidence,  be  applied  to  the  character  and  state  of  every 
real  Christian.  I  propose,  therefore,  in  discoursing  of  this  sub- 
ject, to  consider  more  particularly, 

I.  What  this  important  matter  is,  of  which  we  may  be  confi- 
dent concerning  every  man  of  true  religion ;  and, 

II.  The  grounds  of  this  confidence. 

I.  As  to  the  matter  of  which  we  may  be  confident,  it  is  this 
— That  God  will  perform  the  good  work  he  hath  begun  in  the 
real  Christian,  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Religion  is  manifestly  the  thing  here  intended.  What  that 
is  we  have  largely  considered  in  the  preceding  discourses.  In 
order,  however,  to  throw  light  on  the  subject  we  are  now  discuss- 
ing, it  will  be  proper  to  attend  a  while  to  the  description  given 
us  of  it  in  this  passage. 

1.  It  is  a  work  wrouo-ht  in  the  soul  of  man. 


366  nFJ.IGlON  AN 

Now  a  work,  of  whatever  kind  it  is,  implies  design,  activity, 
and  an  exertion  of  skill  and  strength.  Ideas  which  are  appli- 
cable to  religion  in  its  rise,  progress,  and  f  nal  completion ;  and 
more  especially  as  it  concerns  the  heart  or  inward  man  ;  for  there 
this  work  is  said  to  be  wrought.  We  are  his  worhmansJiip, 
says  the  apostle  to  the  Ephesians  a.  The  soul  of  man,  in  an 
unrenewed  state,  resembles  a  building  in  ruins.  It  was  once  a 
fair  and  beautiful  temple,  the  residence  of  the  blessed  God,  and 
sacred  to  his  service.  But  alas  !  it  is  now  defaced  and  spoiled. 
The  stones  of  the  sanctuary,  to  use  the  language  of  the  prophet 
concerning  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  are  poured  out;  the  altar 
is  tlirown  down ;  the  holy  fire  extinguished ;  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  departed.  All  the  faculties  of  the  mind  are  enervated 
and  broken,  overspread  with  darkness  and  error,  and  wretchedly 
polluted  and  depraved.  The  great  object  therefore  of  religion 
is  the  renovation  of  the  soul,  the  rebuilding  this  temple,  and  the 
fitting  it  again  for  the  service  and  enjoyment  of  God.  A  work 
this  truly  noble  and  important,  but  attended  with  much  expence, 
labovir  and  opposition.  The  plan  is  laid  in  the  sacred  records, 
and  suitable  means  are  provided  for  carrying  it  into  execution. 
The  materials  are  chosen,  fashioned  and  cemented.  And  thus  the 
building,  fitly  framed  and  beautified,  groweth  unto  an  holy  tem- 
ple in  the  Lord,  and  becomes  an  habitation  of  God  through  the 
Spirit.  The  foundation  is  laid  in  deep  humiliation  for  sin,  and 
a  lively  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  and  the  superstructure 
is  i-aised,  amidst  many  conflicts  and  temptations,  in  knowledge, 
purity  and  joy.  He  who  was  ignorant  of  God,  of  his  own 
heart,  and  of  the  great  concerns  of  a  future  state,  becomes  wise 
unto  salvation.  He  who  M'as  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  is 
quickened  to  a  life  of  holiness.  And  he  who  was  immersed  iu 
the  follies  and  pleasures  of  the  world,  aspires  to  infinitely  nobler 
enjoyments.  He  is  a  new  creature.  There  is  a  change  in  his 
principles,  views,  affections  and  manner  of  life.  Old  things  are 
passed  away^  and  all  things  become  new  h.     Now, 

2.  Of  this  work  God  is  the  author.  So  the  text  expressly 
assures  us.  For  he  who  had  begun  it  in  the  Philippians,  is  the 
same  divine  person  to  whom  the  apostle  had  offered  his  thanks, 
in  the  third  verse,  on  their  behalf. 

a  Eph.  ii.  10.  fiSCor.  v.  17. 


ABIDING  I^RINCirLE.  867 

Every  house  is  built  by  some  many  but  he  who  builds  this  tem- 
ple is  God.  To  his  skill  and  influence  we  are  indebted  both 
for  framing  the  plan,  and  for  carrying  it  into  execution.  Others 
indeed  are  labourers  together  with  God  a;  nay  those  in  whom 
the  work  is  wrought,  are  themselves  commanded  to  work  out 
their  own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling  b :  yet  they  all  act 
under  the  direction  of  the  great  Master-builder,  and  depend 
upon  the  effectual  concurrence  of  his  providence  and  grace  for 
the  success  of  their  labours. 

After  what  manner  the  Holy  Spirit  exerts  his  influence  on 
the  minds  of  men,  to  effect  their  conversion  at  first,  and  to 
maintain  and  promote  religion  in  their  hearts  afterwards,  it  is  not 
for  me  precisely  to  determine.  But  that  there  is  a  supernatural 
power  exerted  to  these  great  ends,  may  be  clearly  proved  from 
the  principles  of  reason,  in  concurrence  with  the  express  testi- 
mony of  Scripture.  This  1  have  shewn  at  large  in  a  former 
discourse.  It  will  be  necessary,  however,  to  resume  the  argu- 
ment here  in  a  few  words,  because  the  main  thing  asserted  in 
the  text.  That  this  icork  shall  be  performed  until  the  day  of 
Christ,  very  much  depends  upon  it. 

It  is  a  truth  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  that  the  great  Fa- 
ther of  spirits  can  have  access  to  the  hearts  of  men,  and  by  a 
secret  but  powerful  influence,  incline  and  move  them  as  he  sees 
fit.  To  deny  the  possibility  of  this  is  to  recur  to  downright 
atheism.  Nor  is  it  unworthy  of  God,  or  at  all  subversive  of 
our  original  constitution  as  reasonable  creatures,  for  that  great 
and  good  Being  thus  to  irradiate  our  benighted  minds,  and 
give  a  new  bent  to  our  depraved  will  and  affections.  Our  pre- 
sent state  evidently  requires  it  in  order  to  our  becoming  capable 
of  serving  and  enjoying  God :  for  it  is  a  clear  fact,  that  men 
are  naturally  averse  to  that  which  is  holy,  spiritual  and  good ; 
and  that  all  the  means  used  to  recover  them  to  a  sense  of  their 
duty  and  interest  have  been,  and  still  are  ineffectual  with  the 
far  greater  part  of  mankind.  And  as  the  influence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  necessary  for  the  renovation  of  our  nature,  so  this  doc- 
trine is  clearly  revealed  in  the  Bible  ;  and  religion  wherever  it 
prevails  is  constantly  and  invariably  represented  throughout  that 
sacred  book,  as  an  effect  resulting  from  that  cause.  It  is  God 
«  2  Cor.  vi.  1,  b  Phil.  ii.  12; 


368  RELIGION  AN 

that  opens  our  eyes  a,  enlightens  our  understandings  b,  and  di- 
rects our  wags  to  keep  his  statutes  c.  It  is  God  that  circumcises 
our  hearts  to  love  him  d,  puts  his  fear  in  our  inicard  parts  e, 
and  renews  a  right  spirit  within  usf.  It  is  God  that  works  in 
us  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure  g^  and  makes  us  meet  to 
be  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light  h.  We  are 
born  of  the  Spirit  i,  and  saved  by  the  washing  of  regeneration^  and 
renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  k.  In  fine,  we  are  his  woi'kman- 
ship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  to  good  works  I.  All  which,  you 
see,  well  agrees  with  the  language  of  the  text,  that  God  begins 
this  work  in  us,  and  performs  it  until  the  day  of  Christ. 

Whoever  therefore  duly  reflects  on  the  ruinous  state  to  which 
the  soul  of  man  is  reduced  by  sin ;  on  the  prodigious  expence 
which  the  Son  of  God  hath  been  at  to  procure  on  honourable 
terms  the  return  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  our  earth  ;  on  the  means 
appointed  for  rebuilding,  beautifying  and  consecrating  a  temple 
for  his  service  ;  the  sorrow,  labour  and  difficulty  which,  through 
various  causes,  attend  the  work  itself;  and  what  Scripture,  as 
you  have  seen,  affirms  concerning  the  divine  influence  therein  : 
whoever,  I  say,  duly  considers  all  these  things  must  acknow- 
ledge that  religion  is  indeed  the  work  of  God. — Which  leads 
tne  to  observe, 

3.  That  it  is  a  good  work.  So  it  must  needs  be,  as  it  is  the 
effect  of  divine  skill,  power  and  goodness :  but  its  nature  and 
intendment  will  sufficiently  shew  it. 

Beauty  and  convenience  are  the  two  chief  commendations  of 
a  building.  If  its  parts  are  so  framed  and  adjusted,  as  to  please 
the  beholder;  and  it  is  so  contrived  and  laid  out  as  to  furnish 
all  needful  accommodations  for  the  inhabitant :  it  is  a  fair  man- 
sion, an  agreeable  dwelling.  In  like  manner,  this  spiritual 
building  is  both  ornamental  and  useful.  He  who  hath  a  taste 
for  real  dignity  and  beauty,  must  acknowledge  that  they  are 
qualities  inseparable  from  true  religion.  Figure  to  yourself  a 
Christian,  who  possesses  all  that  genuine  simplicity,  meekness, 
humility,  cheerfulness,  love  of  God,  contempt  of  the  world,  and 

a  Psal.  cxix.  18.  h  Eph.  i.  18.— 2  Cor.  iv.  G.  c  Psal.  cxLx.  5, 

d  Dent.  XXX.  6.  e  Jer.  xxxii.  40.  /Psal.  li.  10. 

g  Phil.  ii.  13.  h  Col.  i.  12.  t  John  ill.  -5. 

k  Tit.  iii.  5.  I  Eph.  ii.  10. 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  369 

benevolence  towards  his  fellow-creatures,  which  the  faith  of  the 
gospel  inspires ;  and  say,  Whether  such  a  character  is  not  truly 
amiable  ?  It  cannot  fail  of  captivating  the  eye,  and  charming  the 
heart,  of  him  whose  senses  are  exercised  to  discern  good  and 
evil.  Nay,  it  will,  it  must,  it  does,  upon  some  occasions  at 
least,  command  the  reverence  of  the  wicked  themselves.  The 
king's  daughter,  to  use  the  figurative  language  of  the  psalmist, 
is  all  glorious  uuthin  ;  her  clothing  is  of  wrought  gold  a. 

And  sure  I  am,  religion  is  as  useful,  as  it  is  venerable  and 
ornamental.  The  personal  benefits  which  result  from  it  are 
great,  innumerable  and  lasting.  Not  to  speak  of  its  effect  to 
secure  a  man  from  many  temporal  evils,  it  tends  directly,  and  in 
various  ways,  to  promote  the  peace,  comfort  and  happiness  of  the 
mind.  Great  peace  have  they  who  love  thy  law,  says  David  b. 
The  ivays  of  wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  says  Solomon  c. 
And  the  apostle  assures  us  that  godliness  is  profitable  unto  all 
things,  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and  of  that  which 
is  to  come  d.  Nor  do  they  only  in  whom  this  work  is  wrought 
reap  the  fruits  of  it :  others  are  benefited  by  it.  The  grace 
of  God  makes  a  man  a  good  man.  It  inspires  him  with  princi- 
ples of  integrity,  meekness,  humihty  and  generosity;  virtues 
these  of  general  utility,  and  which  cannot  fail  of  rendering  him 
who  possesses  them  a  blessing  to  all  around  him.  So  that  the 
real  Christian  will  be  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  relation,  a  sin- 
cere and  steady  friend,  and  an  honourable  and  useful  member 
of  society.  These  Philippians,  in  whom  religion  thus  prevailed, 
were  not  only  blameless  and  harmless,  the  sons  of  God  without 
rebuke,  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse  generation  ,-  but 
they  shone  as  lights  in  the  world  e.  And  it  is  true  of  the  dis- 
ciples of  Christ  in  every  age,  as  well  as  of  his  immediate  fol- 
lowers, that  they  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  f — Now  surely  a 
work  that  is  thus  ornamental  and  useful  must  be  a  good  work. 
Yet, 

4.  It  is  at  present  imperfect,  a  work  begun  in  us. 

As  to  some,  little  more  can  be  said  of  them  than  that  the 
foundation  of  this  new  building  is  just  laid,  and  that  there  are 
hopeful  appearances  of  its  rising  out  of  its  former  ruins.     It  is 

a  Psal.  xlv.  13.  b  Psal.  cxix.    165.  c  Prov.  Hi.  17. 

d  1  Tim.  iv.  a  e  Chap.  ii.  15.  /Matt.  v.  13. 

VOL.  I.  A  a 


3T0  HELIGION  AX 

the  day  of  small  things,  as  the  prophet  speaks  concerning  the 
temple  at  Jerusalem  a.     Their  knowledge  scarce  extends  farther 
than  the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God,  and  is  blended 
with  much  ignorance  and  error.     Their  ideas  are  irregular  and 
confused,  like  his  in  the  gospel  who  just  emerging  out  of  blind- 
ness said,  /  see  men  as  trees,  walking  b.     Their  faith,  though 
well  grounded,  is  weak  and  feeble,  and  frequently  shook  with 
the  violent  assaults  of  temptation ;    so  that  in  their  perplexity 
they  cry  out,  like  him,   who  besought  Christ  to  heal  his  child, 
Lord,  I  believe ;  help  thou  my  unbelief  c.     Their  hope,  though 
it  holds  them  up  from  despondency,  arises  not  to  assurance;  so 
that  they  dare  not  pronounce  certainly  upon  their  state  towards 
God.     They    have   a    fixed   abhorrence   of  all    sin ;    yet  not 
thoroughly  knowing  their  own  hearts,  and  not  fully  cam preh  end- 
ing the  devices  of  Satan,  they  are  often  deceived,  if  not  over- 
come, by  its  delusive  and  flattering  appearance.     They  have  a 
relish  for  the  pure  and  spiritual  pleasures  of  religion,  and  eagerly 
aspire  after  them  ;  yet  they  feel  and  lament  the  powerful  attrac- 
tions and  undue  influence  of  sensible  objects.     In  short,  the 
principles  of  grace  and  holiness  have  many  sinful  habits  and 
foolish  passions  to  contend  with ;  so  that  their  joys  are  mingled 
with  sorrows,  their  hopes  clouded  with  fears,  and  their  obedience 
disgraced  with  imperfection  and  sin. 

Thus  is  religion  in  the  beginning  like  Elijah's  cloud,  which 
at  first  was  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand,  but  afterwards  covered 
the  whole  heavens  d.  Or  like  a  grain  of  mustard- seed,  which 
is  the  least  of  all  seeds,  but  when  it  is  grown,  is  the  greatest 
among  herbs,  and  becometh  a  tree ;  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air 
come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof  e.  And  hence  our  Sa- 
viour, in  great  compassion  to  his  young  afflicted  disciples,  com- 
pares them  to  a  bruised  reed,  and  smoking  fax  f  Like  a 
bruised  reed,  they  are  in  their  own  apprehension,  most  base  and 
contemptible ;  and,  through  the  sorrowfulness  of  their  spirite, 
are  as  incapable  of  affording  melody  in  the  ears  of  others,  as  a 
musical  instrument  that  is  broken  and  laid  aside.  And  like 
smoking  flax,  religion  seems  to  them  to  have  little  strength  or 
prevalence  in  their  hearts ;  so  that,  though  the  fire  may  have 

a  Zech.  jv.  10.  b  Mark  viii.  2k  c  Mark  ix.  24. 

d  1  Kings  xviii.  44,  45.  e  Matt.  xiii.  31,  32.  /Chap.  xil.  20. 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  371 

been  smothered  there  for  a  long  while,  they  can  scarce  think  it 
will  ever  burst  out  into  a  living  and  inextinguishable  flame. 

And  then  as  to  Christians  of  longer  standing  and  higher  at- 
tainments in  religion,  even  the  work  in  them,  when  compared 
with  the  perfection  it  shall  arrive  at  in  heaven,  is  only  in  its  be- 
ginning. You  see  the  outlines  of  that  fair  original,  after  which 
they  are  a  copy ;  but  though  the  resemblance  is  striking,  the 
picture  is  rude  and  unfinished.  The  superstructure  is  raised 
perhaps  to  a  considerable  height,  yet  there  are  many  blemishes 
in  the  building  :  nay,  there  is  wood,  hay  and  stubble,  mingled 
with  the  very  materials  of  which  it  is  composed.  Original  cor- 
ruptions, evil  habits,  and  early  prejudices  are  so  deeply  rooted, 
that  thev  are  not  to  be  totally  eradicated  by  age,  experience, 
the  instructions  of  God's  word,  or  the  discipline  of  his  provi- 
dence. And  hence  those  many  sad  and  strange  appearances 
among  good  men,  those  errors  in  judgment,  and  mistakes  in  con- 
duct, which  try  their  charity  towards  each  other,  and  sometimes 
prove  an  occasion  of  offence  and  scandal  to  the  world.  A  reflec- 
tion this,  which  gives  rise  to  many  sorrowful  lamentations,  in 
the  breast  of  him  who  truly  fears  God,  and  at  certain  seasons 
excites  vehement  desires  after  a  dismission  hence. — The  work, 
liowever, 

5.  Is  a  progressive  work.  This,  the  phrase  of  its  being  per- 
formed until  the  day  of  Christ,  clearly  intimates. 

God,  as  we  have  seen,  is  the  author  of  it ;  and  it  is  scarce 
probable,  that  so  able  and  skilful  an  architect  should  begin  a 
building,  and  then  suspend  all  concern  about  it,  till  just  the 
period  when  it  is  to  be  finished.  In  some  instances,  indeed,  it 
looks  as  if  this  were  the  case.  So  it  appears  to  the  Christian 
himself,  when  God  withholds  the  light  of  his  countenance,  and 
suffers  him  to  walk  in  darkness.  But  however  difficult  it  may 
be,  at  such  seasons,  to  persuade  ourselves  that  religion  is  in  an 
improving  state,  yet  so  it  really  is.  The  work  is  advancing 
with  perhaps  swifter  progress,  amidst  these  dark  and  gloomy  ex- 
periences, than  when  to  our  view  it  goes  on  smoothly  and  pros- 
perously. For  however  desirable  the  comforts  of  divine  grace 
are,  the  great  object  of  religion  is  the  subduing  our  corruptions, 
and  the  forming  our  hearts  to  love  and  obedience.  And  if  God 
is  pursuing  this  object  by  afilictive  dispensations,  as  he  most  eer- 

Aa2 


372  HELIGION  AN 

tainly  is,  then  is  he  carrying  on  the  good  work,  though  it  may 
seem  to  us  as  it  it  stood  still,  or  as  if  it  were  never  begun. 
Nay,  he  is  attentive  to  it,  (such  is  his  goodness  !)  even  amidst 
all  that  languor  and  indifference,  which  sometimes  seize  on  the 
Christian,  and  disgrace  his  profession.  For  though,  at  such  a 
time,  religion  may  be  said  to  be  on  the  decline,  and  we  are  our- 
selves chargeable  with  great  ingratitude  and  folly,  yet  God  can 
and  will  over-rule  all  that  bitterness  and  sorrow,  which  are  the 
fruit  of  such  criminal  neglects,  to  the  great  purpose  of  reviving 
again  the  dying  interests  of  godliness  in  our  hearts.  And  it  is 
both  instructive  and  pleasing  to  reflect,  how  admirably  he  hath 
in  many  cases  directed  the  dispensations  of  his  providence,  and 
the  influences  of  his  grace,  to  this  truly  important  end. 

These  instances  however  excepted,  their  progress  in  the  di- 
vine life  is  obvious  to  Christians  themselves,  or  at  least  to  every 
attentive  observer  of  their  temper  and  conduct.  As  they  ad- 
vance in  their  profession,  they  usually  improve  in  knowledge, 
purity  and  comfort.  They  have  juster  conceptions  of  divine 
truths,  and  are  more  thoroughly  confirmed  in  their  belief  of 
them.  Their  aversion  to  sin  and  love  of  holiness  increase. 
Their  discouraging  fears  subside,  and  they  become  more  satis- 
fied as  to  their  state  towards  God.  And  the  effects  of  such  im- 
provement appear  in  the  course  of  their  lives.  Amidst  the  cul- 
tivations of  providence  and  grace,  they  grow  and  bring  forth 
fruit.  They  add  to  their  faith,  virtue;  to  virtue,  knovdedge ; 
to  knowledge,  temperance ;  to  temperance,  patience ;  to  patience, 
godliness;  to  godliness,  brotherly  kindness;  and  to  brotherly 
kindness,  charity  a.  Such,  I  say,  is  the  fact  with  respect  to 
many  Christians.  So  that  they  who  in  the  beginning  were 
feeble,  become  as  David ,-  and  they  who  are  of  the  house  of 
David,  as  the  angel  of  the  Lord  b.  This  gradu.al  progress  of 
religion  in  the  heart,  is  described  in  Scripture  by  a  great  variety 
of  figures,  taken  from  the  springing  of  the  vegetable  creation j 
from  the  growth  of  children,  and  from  the  improvement  of  scho- 
lars under  the  tuition  of  their  masters.  To  this  purpose  we  are 
assured,  that  they  who  wait  on  the  Lord  shall  renew  their 
strength,  shall  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles,  shall  run  and 
not  he  weary,  and  walk  and  not  faint  c  :    That  they  who  are 

a  2  ret.  L  5—7.  *  Zech.  xii.  8.  c  Isa.  xl.  31. 


ABIDING   PRINCIPLE.  373 

planted  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  shall  jiourish  in  the  courts  of 
our  God;  that  they  shall  bring  forth  fruit  in  old  a/jie  a  :  aud» 
in  a  word,  that  the  path  of  the  Just  is  as  the  shining  light,  u'hich 
shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  b. — Which  leads  me 
to  the  last  and  principal  thing  to  be  considered,  and  that  is, 

6.  That  this  work  shall  be  brought  to  perfection  at  the  day  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

By  the  day  of  Christ  in  the  New  Testament,  is  most  com- 
monly intended,  the  last  great  day,  when  Christ  shall  come  to 
judge  the  world;  and  which  the  apostle,  in  another  place,  em- 
phatically styles,  that  day  c.  And  it  will  be  a  glorious  and  tre- 
mendous day  indeed  !  a  day  distinguished  by  events  of  the  most 
interesting  nature,  and  in  which  every  individual  of  the  human 
race  will  be  intimately  concerned.  On  the  morning  of  that  day, 
the  great  archangel  shall  sound  his  trumpet,  the  dead  shall  arise, 
the  Son  of  God  shall  appear  in  the  heavens  with  a  radiance 
surpassing  the  sun,  myriads  of  blessed  spirits  shall  attend  his 
descent,  the  throne  shall  be  set,  small  and  great  shall  stand  be- 
fore it,  and  each  having  received  his  final  doom,  the  world  and 
all  that  is  therein,  shall  pass  away  and  be  no  more.  How  so- 
lemn and  to  the  righteous  how  joyful  a  scene  this. — Now,  though 
this  is  not  the  day  to  which  the  apostle  seems  here  to  refer;  be- 
cause the  work  which  God  hath  begun  in  us  is  a  work  which 
respects  the  soul,  and  which  will  therefore,  as  there  is  an  inter- 
mediate state,  be  perfected  at  death  :  though,  I  say,  this  is  not 
the  day  here  intended,  yet  an  event  will  then  take  place  in 
which  the  happiness  of  the  Christian  is  nearly  concerned,  and 
which  therefore  I  cannot  forbear  mentioning ;  I  mean  the  change 
that  will  pass  upon  the  body,  by  which  it  will  be  fitted  for  the 
reception  of  the  immortal  spirit.  A  work  this  which  will  ex- 
hibit to  our  admiring  eyes  a  most  amazingdisplay  of  divine  skill 
and  power.  Clirist  the  Saviour,  says  the  apostle,  shall  change 
our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  his  glorious 
body,  according  to  the  working  whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue 
all  things  unto  himself  d. 

But  it  is  the  day  of  the  Christian's  death,  as  I  said,  that  seems 
to  be  here  intended.     And  that  may  very  properly  be  called  the 

a  Psal.  xcii.  13,  14.  b  Prov.  iv.  18. 

c  2  Tim.  i.  12.    i«s<vjjv  tni  hfAi^av.  d  Phil.  iii.  21. 


3T4  RELIGION  AN 

day  of  Christ,  because  Christ,  to  use  his  own  words,  then  comes 
to  receive  his  people  to  himself^  that  where  he  is  there  they  may 
be  also  a.  When  the  union  between  soul  and  body  is  dissolved, 
the  spirit  returns  to  him  who  gave  it,  and  joins  the  society  of 
the  blessed.  Now,  at  that  happy  moment,  God  will  of  his 
mercy ,  Jinish,  accomplish  ox  perfect  this  good  work  of  which  I 
have  been  discoursing,  as  the  word  here  used  is  elsewhere  ren- 
dered b.  He  who  began  it  will  then  put  the  last  hand  to  it : 
'  he  will  bring  forth  the  head  stone  with  shoutings,  crying, 
Grace,  grace,  unto  it  c'  So  the  apostle  speaks  of  the  spirits 
of  just  men  being  made  perfect  d. 

Glory  is  the  consummation  of  grace,  or  religion  in  its  most 
improved  and  perfect  state.  An  idea  this  of  the  happiness  of 
heaven,  the  most  clear  and  satisfactory  perhaps  of  any  we  can 
frame  of  it  in  the  present  life.  For  however  difficult  it  may  be 
to  conceive  of  the  manner  of  our  existence  in  that  world,  and 
of  the  external  circumstances  that  will  contribute  to  our  felicity, 
not  having  powers  equal  to  the  investigation  of  subjects  so  sub- 
lime and  exalted  ;  yet  we  can  pretty  easily,  in  our  imagination, 
divest  religion  of  the  manifest  imperfections  which  attend  it  in 
the  present  state  :  whieh  done,  we  view  it  in  its  native  splendour 
and  glory,  and  so  as  it  is  possessed  and  enjoyed  above.  Now 
these  imperfections  are  such  as  result  from  ignorance  and  error, 
impurity  and  sin,  and  of  consequence  inquietude  and  sorrow  : 
but  at  death  they  shall  all  be  done  away.  At  the  instant  this 
day  of  Christ  commences,  the  thick  mists  of  pestilential  darkness 
which  just  now  enveloped  the  soul,  and  rendered  it  both  un- 
healthy and  unhappy,  shall  be  dissipated  aud  scattered  ;  and  the 
sun  of  righteousness  shall  pour  into  it  pure  and  unutterable  light, 
bliss  and  glory.  Noio  we  know  only  in  part,  and  *ee  through 
a  glass  darkly  ;  nor  can  it  be  otherwi  e  at  present,  our  intellects 
are  so  weak,  there  are  so  many  obstructions  to  the  right  exercise 
of  them,  and  the  means  of  their  information  are  so  limited  and 
imperfect.  But  '  then,  we  shall  see  face  to  face,  and  know  even 
as  we  are  known  e;'  behold  divine  truths  in  their  just  and  pro- 
per light,  and  without  the  least  mixture  of  weakness  or  error, 
of  doubt  or  uncertainty.     Now,  strong  as  the  propensities  of 

a  John  xiv.  3.  b  iTiriXiffii.  2  Cor.  viii.  6.^Heb.  ix.  6. — 2  Cor.  tii.  1. 

e  ^eeh.  iv.  7.  d  Heb.  xii.  23.  e  1  Cor.  xiii.  9.— 12, 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  375 

the  heart  may  be  to  rectitude  and  holiness,  they  are  continually 
thwarted  and  opposed  by  irregular  inclinations  and  passions. 
But  then,  the  full  bias  of"  the  soul  shall  be  to  that  which  is 
good;  nor  shall  it  ever  be  warped  or  turned  aside  from  its  pro- 
per object,  either  by  a  principle  of  sin  within,  or  by  any  kind 
of  undue  influence  or  temptation  from  without.  Now,  fear,  dis- 
quietude and  misery  are  the  effects  of  ignorai^ce,  error  and  guilt- 
But  then,  the  immortal  spirit,  irradiated  with  divine  light  and 
knowledge,  and  refined  from  all  the  impure  dregs  of  sense  and 
sin,  shall  enjoy  the  purest  satisfactions,  and  the  most  ravishing 
pleasures — pleasures  resulting  from  a  full  consciousness  of  the 
favour  of  God,  and  uninterrupted  communion  with  the  great  Au- 
thor of  all  excellence  and  perfection. 

Thus  shall  this  good  work,  begun  in  humiliation  and  sorrow, 
and  carried  on  amidst  great  temptation  and  opposition,  be  at 
length  finally  completed  in  heaven.  Thus  shall  this  building, 
once  in  ruins,  be  restored  to  its  ancient  state,  yea  to  a  far  greater 
degree  of  beauty  und  glory  than  ever.  And  O  !  who  can  de- 
scribe the  effect  which  this  amazing  display  of  divine  skill  and 
power  shall  have  on  the  eye  of  every  beholder? — the  joy  they 
will  all  feel  at  the  dedication  of  this  new  temple  ? — and  the  trans- 
ports of  devotion  and  praise  with  which  they  will  welcome  the 
blessed  God  into  it  ?  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye 
lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and  the  King  of  glory  shall  come 
in  a.  So  shall  the  King  of  glory  come  in,  fill  the  house  with 
the  brightest  beams  of  benignity  and  grace,  and  never,  never 
more  depart  thence. 

Thus  have  we  seen  what  that  important  matter  is,  of  which 
we  may  be  assured  concerning  the  Christian,  That  God  will 
perform  the  good  work  begun  in  him  until  the  day  of  Jesus 
Christ.  And  now  I  should  go  on  to  consider  the  grounds  of 
our  confidence  upon  this  matter.  But  in  the  mean  time  it  will 
be  proper  to  bring  home  what  hath  been  said  to  ourselves,  by 
seriously  enquiring  whether  God  hath  begun  this  good  work 
in  our  hearts. 

This  is  a  question,  Sirs,  of  infinite  importance.     For,  if  our 
depraved  nature  is  not  in  a  degree  renewed  in  the  present  life, 
we  have  no  authority,  either  from  reason  or  Scripture,  to  ex"» 
a  Fsal.  xxiT.  7. 


8T6  KELIGION  AN 

pect  that  it  shall  attain  to  that  perfection  of  happiness  and  glory 
I  have  been  describing,  in  the  futvire.  Nay,  we  are  assured  by 
him  who  cannot  lie,  that  except  a  man  he  born  again,  he  can- 
not see  the  kingdom  of  God  a.  And  then,  a  right  knowledge 
of  the  state  of  our  souls  is  of  the  utmost  consequence,  on  the 
one  hand,  to  prevent  a  most  fatal  and  dangerous  disappointment 
at  last ;  and  on  the  other,  to  scsure  us,  if  we  are  Christians, 
from  those  discouraging  fears  which  not  only  tend  to  make  us 
unhappy,  but  to  obstruct  our  improvement  in  the  divine  life. 
Let  us  therefore  examine  ourselves  with  great  seriousness  and 
impartiality ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  all  that  tenderness  and 
charity,  which  both  the  word  of  God,  and  the  unavoidable  im- 
perfection of  the  present  state,  abundantly  warrant. 

If,  then,  this  good  work  is  begun  in  us,  it  will  be  the  main 
object  of  our  attention.  Such  is  its  importance,  and  so  im- 
mediately does  it  affect  the  mind  and  heart,  that  it  is  not  con- 
ceivable how  it  should  have  any  existence  in  that  man,  who 
is  little,  if  at  all,  thoughtful  and  solicitous  about  it.  On  the 
contrary,  if  we  have  a  lively  sense  of  its  infinite  utility,  and  in- 
dispensable necessity;  if  we  clearly  give  it  the  preference  to 
any  other  concern  whatever ;  if  we  are  above  all  things  anxious, 
lest  we  should  be  deceived  in  the  opinion  we  form  of  ourselves ; 
and  if,  in  a  word,  our  hopes  and  fears,  our  joys  and  sorrows, 
our  pleasures  and  pains,  are  chiefly  affected  by  this  important 
question,  Whether  we  are  interested  in  the  favour  of  God, 
and  bear  any  resemblance  to  his  image  ?  it  may  from  hence  be 
fairly  concluded  that  this  work  is  begun  in  us. 

We  shall  be  sensible  also,  in  this  case,  of  the  difficulties  that 
attend  it.  Too  many  there  are  who  look  upon  religion  as  a  very 
easy  attainment,  and  taking  it  for  granted  that  it  is  in  their  power, 
at  any  time,  and  upon  the  shortest  notice,  to  make  their  peace 
with  God,  and  prepare  for  heaven,  they  trouble  themselves  very 
little,  for  the  present,  about  their  souls  and  a  future  world. 
But  if  we  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  divine  things,  we  shall 
form  very  different  conceptions  of  the  matter.  It  will  strike  us 
as  a  most  arduous,  as  well  as  important  concern ;  nay  it  is  possi- 
ble that  the  obstructions  it  may  have  met  with  in  our  breasts 
from  numerous  and  powerful  corruptions,  and  from  various  and 
a  John  iii.  3.     - 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  37T 

mighty  temptations,  may  have  led  us  sometimes  to  fear,  that 
though  it  is  a  most  desirable  blessing,  yet  it  is  scarce  attainable. 
A  deep  a;id  affecting  sense,  however,  of  these  difficulties,  arising 
thus  from  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  our  own  hearts,  furnishes 
a  clear  proof  that  this  work  is  begun  in  us. 

Arid  then,  as  a  lively  apprehension  of  these  difficulties  will  na- 
turally put  us  upon  looking  for  superior  assistance,  so  a  seri- 
ous and  affectionate  regard  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  the  author  of 
this  work,  is  a  farther  evidence  of  its  existence.  There  is  no 
man,  saith  our  Saviour,  who  shall  do  a  miracle  in  my  name, 
that  can  lightly  speak  evil  of  me  a.  In  like  manner  it  may  be 
affirmed,  that  no  man  whose  heart  is  renewed  by  a  divine  influ- 
ence, can  speak  lightly  of  that  influence.  Whilst,  therefore,  a 
contemptuous  treatment  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  indeed  a  total 
indifference  to  his  gracious  operations,  afford  a  sad  proof  that 
men  are  utter  strangers  to  the  power  of  religion  ;  the  reverse 
may  be  reasonably  concluded  of  all  those,  who  not  only  give  firm 
credit  to  this  leading  doctrine  of  divine  revelation,  but  are  deeply 
sensible  of  its  utility  and  importance,  and  make  it  their  frequent 
and  earnest  request  to  Heaven,  that  they  may  experience  these 
influences. 

Again,  as  Christ  is  the  foundation  on  which  this  building  is 
raised,  the  corner-stone  on  which  the  hope  of  the  good  man  en- 
tirely rests ;  and  as  faith  in  him  is  a  powerful,  and  indeed  only 
effectual  mean  of  uniting  us  to  God,  and  quickening  us  to  obe- 
dience, so  a  suitable  regard  to  the  person,  doctrine,  and  grace 
of  this  Almighty  Saviour,  is  another  plain  and  natural  criterion 
of  the  reality  and  prevalence  of  religion  in  our  hearts.  *  To 
you  that  believe,'  says  the  apostle  Peter,  '  he  is  precious  b* 
And  the  apostle  John  mentions  '  our  confessing  that  Jesus  is 
the  Son  of  God,'  (a  phrase  which  imports  our  confidence  in  him, 
and  ready  consent  to  the  gracious  proposals  of  salvation  by  him) 
as  a  proof  that  '  God  dwelleth  in  us,  and  we  in  God  c' 

He  in  whom  this  work  is  begun,  will  also  be  fearful  of  every 
thing  which  hath,  in  his  apprehension,  a  tendency  to  prevent 
its  progress.  A  temper  this,  of  which  Christians  usually  give 
very  striking  proofs  in  the  early  part  of  their  profession.  Next 
to  the  direct  indulgence  of  sin,  there  is  nothing  which  has  a 

a  3Iark  ix.  39.  b  1  Pet.  ii.  7.  c\  John  iv.  15. 


378-  RELIGION  AN 

more  natural  effect  to  weaken  the  vital  powers  of  religion,  than 
a  heedless  desultory  behaviour,  a  wanton  conformity  to  the  man- 
ners of  the  v.'orld,  and  an  unnecessary  connection  with  vain  and 
wicked  men.  Tenderness,  therefore,  of  conscience,  a  quick 
sensibility  to  the  first  approaches  of  temptation,  and  a  dread  of 
grieving  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  noble  proofs  of  the  reality  of  in- 
ternal religion. 

As  is  also  a  serious  attention  to  those  means  by  which  this 
work  is  usually  begun  and  carried  on.  He  who  is  alive  to- 
wards God,  will  have  his  ear  open  to  receive  instruction  from 
the  voice  of  providence,  and  the  ministry  of  the  word;  nor  can 
he  live  in  the  utter  neglect  of  the  several  private  and  social  du- 
ties of  worship,  no,  nor  content  himself  with  the  mere  formal 
discharge  of  such  duties,  without  entering  into  the  spirit  of 
them. 

He  will  also  feel  an  affection  for  those  in  whom  he  believes 
this  work  is  wrought,  esteeming  them  the  excellent  of  the  earth, 
and  accounting  them  brethren  in  Christ,  and  fellow-heirs  of 
eternal  life.  Nor  can  he  be  wholly  destitute  of  a  concern  for 
others,  especially  his  friends  and  relations,  that  they  may  be 
partakers  with  him,  of  the  infinitely  rich  and  invaluable  gifts  of 
divine  grace. — In  fine,  he  will  give  proof  of  the  genuineness  of 
his  religion,  in  his  life  and  conversation,  the  general  course  of 
which,  allowing  for  the  unavoidable  imperfections  of  the  present 
state,  will  be  honourable,  useful,  and  exemplary. 

And  now.  Is  this  good  work  begun  in  yov.  Christian  ?  Let 
me  congratulate  you  on  your  unspeakable  felicity ;  and  earnestly 
exhort  you  to  be  thankful  to  the  great  Author  of  it,  to  express 
your  gratitude  by  labouring  heartily  with  him  in  the  work,  and 
to  comfort  yourself  with  the  assurance  in  the  text,  that  he  will 
perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ. — Are  you  still  doubt- 
ful about  it  ?  Let  me  exhort  you  to  add  prayer  to  self-ex- 
amination, and  most  fervently  to  beseech  God  to  give  you  a 
right  understanding  of  the  state  of  your  soul,  that  you  may  not, 
on  the  one  hand,  perplex  yourself  with  unreasonable  and  ground- 
less fears,  nor  on  the  other,  flatter  yourself  with  vain  and  pre- 
sumptuous hopes. — But,  is  it  a  clear  point  that  you  have  hither- 
to been  an  utter  stranger  to  real,  vital,  practical  religion  ?  Let 
me  in   one  word  express  the  pity  I  feci  for  you  in   this  your 


I 

ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  379' 

miserable  state,  and  my  earnest  wishes,  that,  sensible  of  your 
danger,  you  may  flee  from  the  wrath  that  is  to  come,  lay  hold 
on  eternal  life,  and  become  a  happy  partaker  of  all  the  rich 
pleasures  of  religion  here,  and  of  the  unutterable  joys  with 
which  it  shall  be  crowned  hereafter. 

PART  II. 

The  import  of  the  text,  that  God  will  perform  the  good  work 
he  hath  begun  in  the  Christian  until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
hath  been  considered.     And  I  come  now, 

II.  To  lay  before  you  the  grounds  of  our  confidence  respect- 
ing this  matter;  or,  in  other  words,  the  principles  whence  it  may 
may  be  certainly  concluded,  that  religion,  if  it  be  genuine,  shall 
prevail  over  all  opposition,  till  at  length  it  is  perfected  in  eter- 
nal glory. — "  If  it  be  genuine,"  I  say,  because  it  is  real  religion 
only  that  is  the  subject  of  our  present  consideration  ;  and  not 
the  mere  semblance  or  external  profession  of  it. — And  I  add, 
"  that  it  shall  prevail  over  all  opposition,"  because  it  does  meet 
with  opposition  in  the  best  of  men,  and  of  consequence,  some- 
times assumes  an  appearance  very  unpromising,  and  which 
threatens  its  final  dissolution. 

Now  the  question  thus  stated,  is  highly  interesting  and  im- 
portant, as  the  very  earnest  and  emphatical  manner  in  which 
the  apostle  expresses  himself,  clearly  intimates — Being  confi- 
dent, says  he,  of  this  very  thing  a.  And  it  is  capable  of  such 
proof  as  will  warrant  a  firm  persuasion  of  it.  For  if  it  be  admit- 
ted, (and  I  think  the  plain  and  obvious  sense  of  the  words  re- 
quires it,)  that  the  apostle's  confidence  did  not  arise,  merely 
from  some  private  assurance  he  might  have  received  from  Hea- 
ven respecting  the  Philippians,  but  from  the  nature  of  the  work 
itself,  and  the  divine  influence  in  it ;  it  follows  that  his  reason- 
ing is  equally  applicable  to  all  real  Christians,  of  whom  it  may 
likewise  be  affirmed  that  God  hath  begun  a  ffood  work  in  them. 
And  it  is  remarkable  that  he  adds  in  the  next  verse,  Even  as  it 
is  meet  for  me  to  think  this  of  you  all  b. 

This  view  therefore  of  the  matter  will  naturally  lead  us  into 
these  two  enquiries, 

b  (poinTv.   Hie  dicltiir  non  de  animi  afFectu,  sed  de  mentis  judicio.— Beza. 


1 

S80  KELIGION  AN 

I.  How  far  it  may  be  presumed  from  the  nature  of  religion 
itself,  that  it  is  an  abiding  principle  ?  And, 

II.  Which  is  the  main  consideration.  What  grounds  we  have 
to  conclude,  that  God  will  exert  his  influence  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  it  ? 

There  is  some  analogy  between  this  argument  and  that  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  From  the  nature  of  the  soul,  which  is 
spiritual,  and,  so  far  as  we  can  cUscover,  hath  no  seeds  or  prin- 
ciples of  dissolution  in  it  like  the  body;  it  should  seem  to  have 
been  designed  for  eternal  duration.  \  et,  as  no  creature  is  in- 
dependent of  the  Creator,  it  is  evident  that  the  continuation  of 
its  existence  must  be  the  result  of  the  will  and  influence  of  the 
first  fjreat  cause  of  all  things.  Since  therefore  the  liffht  of  na- 
ture  could  afford  no  positive  proof  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
there  was  sreat  need  of  a  revelation  from  God  to  decide  the 
question  ;  which  accordingly  Scripture  hath  done.  In  like  man- 
lier, it  should  seem  highly  probable  from  the  nature  of  religion, 
that  it  is  an  abiding  principle,  or  such  a  qualification  or  endow- 
ment of  the  mind  as  will  never  be  entirely  annihilated  and  lost. 
Yet,  as  its  preservation  depends  upon  a  continued  exertion  of 
that  energy  which  first  gave  it  existence,  we  must  have  recourse 
to  the  word  of  God  for  that  assurance  respecting  this  matter 
which  its  importance  requires. — Let  us  then  begin, 

I.  With  enquiring.  How  far  it  may  be  presumed  from  the 
nature  of  religion  itself,  that  it  is  an  abiding  principle? 

Now,  if  religion  consisted  only  in  faint  and  general  specula- 
tions of  the  mind,  which  have  at  best  but  a  casual  and  transient 
influence  on  a  man's  temper  and  conduct;  it  were  not  to  be 
wondered  that  its  continuance  should  be  doubtful  and  precarious. 
Wc  see  things  at  one  time  in  a  very  different  light  from  that  in 
which  we  view  them  at  another.  Our  passions  are  variously 
moved  and  affected.  And  of  consequence,  our  actions  thus 
guided  and  influenced,  are  inconstant  and  irregular.  But,  in 
that  heart  which  is  really  renewed  by  the  grace  of  God,  there  is  a 
steady  belief  of  the  great  leading  truths  of  religion,  a  deep  sense 
of  their  importance,  a  fixed  abhorrence  of  all  sin,  a  prevailing 
desire  to  please  God,  and  an  habitual  preference  of  the  comforts 
and  hopes,  which  spring  from  the  divine  favour,  to  any  other 
enjoyments  whatever.     Now  is  it  probable,  this  being  the  staje 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  381 

ef  tlie  mind,  (hat  there  should  ever  be  a  total  revolution  in  it? 
such  a  revolution,  as  that  from  a  full  assurance  of  the  plainest 
truths,  a  man  should  degenerate  into  downright  scepticism  or 
infidelity  ?  from  a  deep  and  weighty  conviction  of  the  vast  im- 
portance of  his  everlasting  interests,  he  should  come  to  consider 
them  of  very  trifling  consequence?  from  an  ardent  concern  to 
approve  himself  to  God,  he  should  not  only  sink  into  sloth  and 
indifference,  but  be  filled  with  bitterness  and  enmity  against  that 
great  and  good  Being?  and  in  fine,  that  instead  of  retaining  the 
relish  and  savour  he  once  had  for  the  pure  and  substantial  plea- 
sures of  religion,  he  should  contract  an  utter  antipathy  to  them? 
Is  this  I  say  probable  ? 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  the  faith  of  a  Clnistian  may  be  shook 
by  the  sudden  assaults  of  temptation,  and  by  unexpected  and 
surprising  events  of  life;  but  how  the  very  seeds  of  it  should  be 
totally  eradicated  and  destroyed,  is  hard  to  imagine.  It  is  easy 
to  see  how  the  cares  of  the  world  may  operate  to  divert  his  at- 
tention for  a  while  from  the  great  objects  of  religion  ;  but  how 
that  deep  impression  of  their  importance,  which  had  penetrated 
his  very  heart,  should  be  entirely  effliced,  is  very  difficult  to  be 
apprehended.  It  is  easy  to  see  how  sin,  by  assuming  false  ap- 
pearances, may  surprise  and  captivate  the  good  man  ;  but  how^ 
he  should  quietly  yield  to  the  oppression  of  a  tyrant  he  hath  sp 
much  abhorred  and  dreaded,  is  most  unaccountable.  The  lively 
and  vigorous  acts  of  love  to  God,  may  also  through  various 
causes  be  suspended;  but  how  is  it  imaginable,  that  a  heart  im- 
pregnated with  this  divine  principle,  should  be  susceptible  of,  or 
at  least  be  inclined  to  admit  malevolent  and  traitorous  sentiments 
and  affections  towards  that  most  lovely  of  all  Beings — such  dis- 
positipns  as  constitute  the  characters  of  ungodly  men  ?  Nor  is 
it  scarcely  a  supposable  case,  that  he  who  hath  tasted  the  re- 
fined pleasures  of  communion  with  God,  and  the  hope  of  a  bet- 
ter world,  should  deliberately,  and  with  the  full  consent  of  his 
mind,  renounce  them  all  for  the  perishing  enjoyments  of  time 
and  sense. 

The  matter  maybe  illustrated  by  instances  somewhat  similar. 
Taste  and  genius,  natural  temper,  early  prejudices,  and  vicious 
habits,  are  rarely  altered,  and  never  without  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty overcome :  so  that  with  respect  to  these  things,  most  men 


382  REl.lGION.  AN 

carry  the  same  complexion  with  them  all  through  liFe :  M'hat 
they  were  in  the  beginning  they  in  the  main  continue  to  be  to 
the  last.  We  should  look  upon  it  as  a  strange  phaenomenon, 
to  see  one  who  had  discovered  an  early  thirst  for  knowledge,  be- 
come averse  to  intellectual  improvements — a  man  of  a  sweet, 
easy,  natural  temper,  become  morose  and  obstinate — or  he  who 
had  been  remarkable  for  his  simplicity  and  integrity,  become 
crafty  and  fraudulent.  How  improbable  is  it  then  that  religion, 
which  if  it  be  genuine  must  have  taken  fast  hold  on  the  heart, 
and  mingled  itself  with  the  vital  principles  of  the  soul,  should 
be  torn  thence  by  surrounding  temptations,  or  fall  an  entire  sa- 
crifice to  opposing  passions  and  corruptions  ?  The  heathens 
themselves  entered  so  far  into  the  spirit  of  this  reasoning,  re- 
specting the  habits  of  virtue  and  morality,  that  we  sometimes 
hear  them  making  their  boast  of  their  philosophers  and  great 
men,  that  you  might  as  soon  divert  the  sun  from  his  course,  as 
turn  them  from  the  practice  of  truth  and  righteousness. 

But  if  we  farther  cousider,  to  what  the  operations  of  religion 
do  in  their  own  nature  tend,  or  the  respect  they  have  to  some 
future  attainment,  or  state  of  perfection ;  it  should  from  thence 
also  seem  that  it  is  an  abiding  principle.  We  cannot  think  of 
seed  sown  in  the  ground,  without  annexing  the  idea  of  its  ex- 
panding, springing  up,  and  at  length  arriving  to  maturity,  and 
producing  its  own  proper  fruit.  The  idea  of  childhood  hath  a 
manifest  relation  to  manhood,  so  that,  according  to  the  common 
course  of  things,  it  is  expected  an  infant  will  grow  to  the  sta- 
ture of  a  man,  and  that  reason  will  gradually  improve  and 
strengthen,  till  it  ripens  into  that  state  in  which  it  usually  ap- 
pears at  full  age.  A  work  begun  is  a  relative  phrase,  and  hath 
no  meaning  in  it,  if  not  considered  in  reference  to  that  perfec- 
tion which  was  originally  designed  and  planned.  Now,  though 
in  each  of  these  instances  it  is  possible  the  end  may  not  be  at- 
tained,— the  seed  may  perish  in  the  ground — the  child  may  die 
in  its  infancy — and  the  work  may  not  be  finished;  yet  such 
events  are  unnatural,  and  to  be  ascribed  rather  to  some  positive 
external  influence,  than  to  any  immediate  tendency,  in  the 
things  themselves  to  dissolution.  In  like  manner,  may  it  not  be 
reasonably  presumed  from  the  nature  of  religion,  which  is  fre- 
quently thus  described,  that  it  will  abide  till  it  arrive  at  a  state 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  383 

of  perfection  in  eternal  glory  ?  To  this  state  its  principles,  powers 
and  operations  manifestly  tend :  so  that  if  it  were  really  dis- 
solved and  lost,  its  proper  end  would  not  be  attained ;  nor  could 
this  happen,  but  from  some  force  superior  to  that  which  it  hath 
in  itself.  And  in  such  case  it  might  be  said  of  it,  as  of  the 
death  of  an  infant  or  a  young  plant,  that  its  dissolution  was  un- 
timely and  unnatural.  As  to  the  question,  M  hat  ground  we 
have  to  conclude  that  no  such  external  force  shall  prevail  to  its 
total  destruction?  that  will  come  to  be  considered  afterwards. 

In  the  mean  while  let  me  observe,  that  this  high  probability, 
arising  from  the  nature  of  religion,  that  it  is  an  abiding  principle  ; 
is  confirmed  by  correspondent  descriptions  given  us  of  it  in  Scrip- 
ture. And  indeed  these  descriptions  of  it  are  so  full  and  clear, 
that  I  think  from  them  the  certainty  of  its  continuance  may  be. 

fairly  proved. The   Christian  is  said  to  have  eternal  life  a, 

which  may  be  well  explained,  not  only  of  his  being  entitled  to 
future  happiness,  but  of  his  having  the  seeds  of  the  divine  life 
in  him :  since  it  is  elsewhere  declared  that  he  hath  eternal  life 
abiding  in  him,  and  that  he  dwellcth  in  God  and  God  in  him  b. 
And  what  words  can  more  fully  and  strongly  express  the  truth 
I  have  been  establishing  i  Religion  is  a  living  principle ;  that 
principle  is  in  its  own  nature  eternal ;  and  it  abideth^  dwelleth, 
continueth  in  him  who  hath  it.  Our  Saviour  not  only  speaks 
of  it  as  living  water,  but  assures  us,  that  '  this  water  shall  be 
in  him  to  whom  he  gives  it,  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into 
everlasting  life  c'  The  well  may  be  deep,  and  difficult  to  be 
come  at ;  nay  it  may  for  a  while  be  stopped  up,  covered  with 
earth,  and  the  surface  of  it  so  disguised  as  that  it  can  hardly  be 
known  where  it  is  ;  yet  the  spring  abides,  and  hath  such  force 
in  it  as  again  to  work  its  way  through  every  obstruction,  till  at 
length  it  rises  into  everlasting  life  d. — This  notion  of  religion  is 
also  farther  confirmed  by  what  our  Saviour  says  of  the  effect, 
which  the  water  of  life  produces  in  those  who  drink  it.  They 
shall  never  thirst  e  ;  that  is,  it  shall  so  far  subdue  their  eager 
desire  of  earthly  things,  as  that  that  desire  shall  no  more  be  the 
ruling  predominant  passion  in  their  breasts. — With  this  account 
of  the  matter  agrees  likewise  the  metaphorical  language  of  the 

a  John  iii.  3G.  b  1  John  iii.  15,  iv.  16.  c  John  iv.  14. 

d  Shaw's  Emniaauel.         e  John  iv.  li. 


384  RELIGION  AN 

apostle  John,  who  describes  it  as  the  anointing  which  Christians 
have  received  of  God  a.  He  alludes  to  the  ancient  ceremony  of 
unction,  used  at  the  inauguration  of  kings  and  priests;  and  vhicli 
was  designed  to  express,  not  only  their  investiture  with  those 
offices,  but  their  qualifications  for  them  by  the  descent  of  the 
Spirit  upon  them.  In  like  manner,  the  grace  of  God  is  that 
holy  oil,  that  rich  perfume  poured  upon  Christians,  by  which 
they  are  not  only  devoted  to,  but  prepared  and  qualified  for 
the  duties  of  their  sacred  profession.  And  this  anointing  abid- 
eth  in  them  ,•  it  so  mingles  itself  with  the  powers  and  affections 
of  the  soul,  as  that  the  fragrant  odour  is  never  to  be  wholly  disr 
sipated  and  lost. — To  which  I  will  add,  that  as  the  Christian  is 
said  to  be  born  of  God,  so  we  are  assured  that  his  seed  remain-' 
eth  in  him  h  ,-  which  is  clearly  to  be  understood  of  that  new  na- 
ture, spirit  and  temper  communicated  to  him,  and  which  however 
it  may  sometimes  be  enfeebled  and  weakened,  yet  retains  such 
force  and  energy  in  it  as  to  prevent  his  committing  siti,  that  is, 
gross  sins,  or  however  his  perpetrating  them  with  deliberation 
and  consent,  and  for  a  continuance,  as  is  the  character  and  prac-« 
tice  of  wicked  men. 

And  now  from  the  nature  of  religion,  as  it  thus  stands  de- 
scribed in  Scripture,  we  may  I  think  with  confidence  presume 
tliat  it  is  an  abiding  principle.     And  so  I  am  led  to  enquire, 

II.  What  grounds  we  have  to  conclude  that  God  will  exert 
his  influence  for  the  preserving  and  bringing  it  to  perfection  ? 

Here  you  see  the  question  is  changed  from  the  natural  in- 
corruptibility of  religion,  to  the  care  that  God  will  take  of  it. 
For  it  is  a  possible  thing  that  that  which  is  in  its  own  nature 
immortal,  I  mean,  hath  not  in  itself  any  seed  or  principle  of  dis- 
solution, may  yet  be  destroyed  by  some  superior  external  force; 
and  that  tliat  which  is  capable  of  a  farther  degree  of  perfection, 
may  through  the  want  of  an  external  concurring  influence,  fail 
of  the  end  for  which  it  was  formed.  The  soul,  for  instance, 
having  no  principle  of  corruption  in  itself  like  the  body,  may  be 
said  to  be  naturally  immortal :  yet  surely  that  almighty  power 
which  created  the  soul,  or  any  power  superior  to  it,  if  God  per- 
mit, may  put  an  end  to  its  existence.  And  so  the  seed  sown 
in  the  ground,  though  it  hath  in  it  the  stamuia  or  first  princi- 
a  1  John  ii.  27.  b  1  John  iii.  9. 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  38^ 

pies  of  all  that  perfection  proper  to  its  particular  species ;  yet  if 
the  heat  and  moisture  which  the  sun  and  rain  afford,  are  with- 
held, it  will  remain  in  its  present  state,  and  not  attain  to  that 
maturity,  with  a  view  to  which  it  was  originally  created.  In 
the  same  manner  we  may  reason  as  to  religion.  Though  it  is 
in  its  own  proper  nature  incorruptible,  it  being  the  seed  or  be- 
ginning of  eternal  life ;  yet  it  is  not  independent  of  God,  and 
therefore  if  he  withdraws  his  support  and  influence,  it  raav,  it 
will  be  overpowered  and  destroyed  by  temptation  and  sin.  And 
though  it  is  capable  of  higher  and  nobler  attainments,  and  natu-^ 
rally  aspires  to  them ;  yet  if  the  necessary  means  of  such  attain* 
raents  are  withheld,  it  can  never  arrive  to  its  proper  state  of  ma- 
turity. From  whence  it  follows  that  that  divine  energy  which 
first  gave  it  existence  must  be  farther  exerted  in  order  to  its 
preservation  and  final  perfection.  And  indeed  the  necessity  of 
this  is  evidently  implied  in  those  passages,  which  speak  of 
Christians  being  kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto 
salvation  a  ,-  and  of  their  being  made  meet  to  be  partakers  of 
the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light  b. 

Let  us  then  enquire,  What  ground  we  have  to  expect  that 
such  an  influence  will  be  exerted  in  favour  of  the  real  Christian  ? 
— The  real  Christian,  I  say,  because  the  enquiry  respects  him 
only,  and  not  the  mere  nominal  professor.  Now  the  matter 
may,  I  think,  be  rested  upon  the  two  plain  arguments  the  text 
suggests,  and  which  therefore  we  will  briefly  consider — That 
God  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  the  Christian^  and  therefore 
will  finish  it — And  that  he  hath  expressly  promised  he  will  fin- 
ish it :  for  what  here  follows  in  the  way  of  an  inference  or  con- 
clusion, may  be  considered  as  a  positive  declaration  of  his  gra- 
cious intention  respecting  this  matter,  and  hath  the  concurrent 
support  of  many  other  promises  of  the  like  import. 

First,  God  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  the  Christian^  and 
therefore  it  may  be  naturally  concluded  he  will  finish  it. 

So  we  commonly  reason  in  regard  of  the  conduct  of  men,  and 
upon  affairs  of  very  trifling  consequence  in  comparison  with  that 
of  which  we  are  here  discoursing.  If  I  see  a  larcre  and  fair 
building  rising  into  existence,  as  I  shall  not  doubt  that  there  is 
some  one  who  hath  laid  the  plan,  and  undertaken  to  execute  it; 
a  I  Pet.  i.  5.  b  Col.  i.  12. 

VOL.  I.  B  b 


886  ItELIGION  Al^ 

SO  from  the  character  of  the  architect,  from  the  extensiveness  of 
the  plan,  from  the  expence  he  hath  been  at  to  provide  materials 
for  the  work,  and,  in  fine,  from  his  having  begun  it,  and  made 
some  progress  in  it,  1  shall  certainly  infer,  that  he  will  by  and 
by  bring  it  to  perfection.  For,  as  our  Lord  says,  Which  of 
you  intending  to  build  a  tower,  sitteth  not  down  first,  andcoiint- 
€th  the  cost,  whether  he  have  sufficient  to  finish  it  ?  lest  haplyf 
after  he  hath  laid  the  foundation,  and  is  notable  to  finish  it,  all 
that  behold  him  begin  to  mock  him,  saying.  This  man  began  t& 
build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish  a.  How  very  incredible  is  it 
then,  that  the  blessed  God  should  frame  a  design  of  such  infinite 
utility  and  importance,  as  that  of  recovering  sinners  from  their 
apostacy,  and  preparing  them  for  the  fruition  of  himself  in  hea* 
ven ;  that  he  should,  at  so  vast  an  expence,  provide  the  neces- 
sary means  to  this  great  end ;  that  through  the  influence  of  his 
grace  these  means  should  take  effect  upon  their  hearts,  and  the 
outlines  of  their  future  perfect  character  should  appear  in  their 
tempers  and  lives ;  and  yet  that  he  should,  after  all,  withhold 
such  farther  degrees  of  grace,  as  are  requisite  to  secure  them 
from  the  violence  of  sin  and  temptation,  and  to  bring  this  good 
work,  which  he  had  himself  begun,  to  the  desired  perfection? 

God  is,  we  know,  infinitely  wise  and  all-powerful.  Where- 
fore vve  may  be  assured,  that  whatever  plan  he  lays,  it  is  adjust- 
ed in  such  a  manner,  and  the  execution  of  it  receives  such  con- 
tinual support  from  himself,  that  it  cannot  fail  of  taking  effect. 
'  He  knoweth  the  end  from  the  beginning  b,'  and  '  worketh  all 
things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will  c' — This  great  business 
of  forming  an  immortal  mind  for  the  exalted  duties  and  plea- 
sures of  religion  here,  and  for  a  perfection  of  happiness  and 
glory  hereafter,  is  evidently  the  work  of  God,  as  hath  been  al- 
ready shewn. — It  is  a  work  every  way  worthy  of  that  great 
Being,  and  when  completed,  will  afford  one  of  the  most  striking 
displays  of  his  power  and  goodness. — Its  importance  far  exceeds 
that  of  any  other  concern  whatever ;  and  the  happiness  not  only 
of  the  good  man  himself,  but  of  multitudes  besides,  is  affected 
tlicreby. — Those  in  whom  it  is  wrought,  are  represented  in 
Scripture  as  the  objects  of  the  divine  choice  and  affection ;  a  cho- 
sen generation,  a  peculiar  people,  such  whom  he  hath  formed  for 

a  Luke  xiv.  28—^0.  b  Isa.  xlvl.  10.  c  Eph.  i.  H. 


ABIDING  t'RINClIPLE.  88? 

himself,  and  who  love  him,  because  he  first  loved  them  a.     And 

what  deserves  our  particular  consideration  is,  that  the  measured 
infinite  wisdom  hath  taken,  in  order  to  open  the  way  for  this  dis*- 
play  of  Almighty  power  and  goodness,  are  most  expensive,  and 
such  as  may  naturally  lead  us  to  conclude  that  the  event  is  the 
special  object  of  his  attention  and  regard.  Let  us,  in  a  few 
words,  enter  into  this  last  idea,  though  indeed  it  comprehends 
in  it  so  many  important  truths,  that  it  cannot  be  fully  discussed 
here. 

It  is  not  merely  by  an  act  of  the  divine  will  that  apostate  men 
are  recovered  and  saved.  Something  farther  is  necessary.  The 
rights  of  God's  law  and  government  must  be  asserted  and  main- 
tained,  and  provision  made  upon  equitable  considerations  for  the 
exertion  of  that  influence,  by  which  they  who  are  to  be  finally 
happy  may  be  qualified  for  the  participation  of  that  happiness. 
To  these  ends  the  Son  of  God  becomes  incarnate,  suffers  the 
pains  of  death  in  their  stead,  arises  from  the  dead,  ascends  up 
into  heaven,  and  there  ever  lives  to  make  intercession  for  them. 
So  are  they  redeemed  by  his  blood,  accepted  in  him,  and  given 
to  him  as  the  reward  of  his  sufferings  b.  And  so  is  he  consti- 
tuted their  living  head,  entrusted  with  all  the  rich  blessings  of 
grace  designed  to  be  bestowed  upon  them,  and  appointed  the 
grand  medium  for  the  communication  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to 
whose  influence  this  good  work,  of  which  I  have  been  discours- 
ing, is  more  immediately  attributed  c. 

And  now,  who  that  considers  all  these  things,  the  plan  laid 
in  the  counsels  of  Heaven,  for  the  redemption  and  salvation  of 
sinners,  the  dignity  of  our  Saviour's  character,  the  value  of  his 
precious  blood,  the  victory  he  hath  obtained  over  the  powers  of 
darkness,  the  prevalency  of  his  intercession,  the  authority  he 
exercises  over  the  universe,  the  special  care  and  affection  which 
he  assures  us  he  hath  for  his  faithful  people,  the  influence 
which,  through  his  mediation,  is  exerted  for  the  renovation  of 
their  hearts,  and  the  wise  ordering  all  the  affairs  of  life,  even 
the  minutest  of  them,  so  as  best  to  contribute  to  their  real  wel- 
fare ;  who,  I  say,  that  duly  weighs  all  these  things,  but  must 

a  1  Pet.  ii.  9.— Isa.  xliii.  21.— 1  John  Iv.  19. 

b  Acts  XX.  28.— 1  Pet.  i.  18,  19.— Eph.  i.  6.— Isa.  liii.  10—12. 

c  Eph.  iv.  lo,  16 Col.  i.  18,  19.— John  i.  16.  xvl.  7.— Tit,  Ui.  5,  6. 

Bb2 


388  nELTGION  AN 

join  issue  with  tlie  apostle  in  his  conclusion,  '  That  he  who 
hath  begun  a  good  work  in  the  Christian,  will  perform  it  until 
the  day  of  Jesus  Christ?' — But  it  is  yet  ftu'thcr  to  be  remem- 
bered, 

Secondly,  That  God  hnth  expressly  declared  he  will  finish 
it ;  for  what  here  follows,  in  the  way  of  an  inference  or  conclu- 
sion, may  be  considered  as  a  positive  assurance  of  his  gracious 
purpose  and  resolution. 

The  apostle  was  confident  as  to  the  Philippians,  that  God 
would  complete  what  he  had  begun  in  them ;  and  as  he  argued 
from  the  soundest  principles,  so  he  could  not  (especially  as  he 
was  divinely  inspired)  be  mistaken  in  his  conclusion ;  his  sen- 
tence must  needs  be  decisive.  Nor  can  it  reasonably  be  doubt- 
ed, that  what  he  affirms  with  respect  to  them,  is  equally  ap- 
plicable to  all  those  whose  characters  are  similar  to  theirs ;  that 
is,  such  who  are  saints  in  Christ  Jesus — who  hay e  fellowship  in 
the  gospel,  whose  love  abounds  in  knowledge,  and  in  all  judg- 
ment, who  ajiprove  the  things  that  are  excellent,  are  sincere — 
and  bring  fci  th  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  which  are  by  Jesus 
Christ  unto  the  glory  and  praise  of  God  a.  Since,  therefore 
it  is  a  general  and  positive  assertion,  which  concerns  all  real 
Christians,  it  may  well  be  admitted  as  a  ground  of  confidence 
with  respect  to  such  persons. 

Here  I  might  recite  a  great  many  passages  of  Scripture, 
which  speak  the  same  language  with  the  text.  But  I  shall  con- 
fine myself  to  a  few  only,  which,  if  taken  in  their  natural,  easy, 
and  plain  intendment,  cannot  methinks  fail  of  both  illustrating 
and  explaining  the  matter  we  have  been  considering.  Not  to 
insist,  therefore,  on  those  Scriptures  which  declare  the  necessary 
connection  between  faith  and  salvation ;  as  where  our  Saviou]?^ 
assures  us.  That  lie  who  believes  shcdl  be  saved,  and  shall  never 
die  b  : — Those  which  describe  the  natural  progress  of  religion, 
from  its  first  rise  to  its  final  perfection ;  as  where  the  wise  man 
says.  The  path  of  the  Just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day  c ;  and  Job,  The  righteous  shall 
hold  on  his  way,  and  he  that  hath  clean  hands  shall  be  stronger 
and  stronger  d  : — Those  which  speak  of  God's  making  an  ever- 

a  Ver.  1,  5,  9—1 1.  h  Mark  xvi.  16 John  xi.  26. 

c  Prov.  iv.  18.  d  Job  xvil.  9. 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  389 

lasting  covenant  with  his  people,  not  to  turn  away  from  them  to 
do  them  good ,-  and  of  his  putting  his  fear  in  their  hearts,  that 
they  shall  not  depart  from  him  a : — And  those  many  other  pas- 
sages which  assure  us.  That  God  knows  them  that  are  his,  that 
lie  keeps  them  by  his  power  through  faith  unto  salvation,  that 
they  are  preserved  in  Christ,  and,  in  a  word,  that  liis  continued- 
life,  mediation,  and  intercession,  are  the  grounds  of  their  hope 
of  attaining  to  eternal  happiness  b. — Not,  I  say,  to  insist  on 
these  Scriptures,  it  will  suffice  briefly  to  illustrate  a  few  others, 
which  cannot  methinks,  without  offering  an  unnatural  violence 
to  them,  be  understood  in  any  other  sense  than  that  affixed  to 
the  text. 

In  that  remarkable  passage  of  the  prophet  Isaiah,  which  fore- 
tels  the  gentleness  of  our  Saviour's  administration,  and  its  pre- 
valence, notwithstanding,  over  all  opposition,  there  is  such  a 
description  given  of  his  Ivind  and  condescending  regards  to  the 
weakest  of  his  people,  and  to  those  in  whom  the  first  symptoms 
of  real  religion  appear,  as  strongly  expresses  his  resolution  to 
finish  the  good  work,  wherever  his  grace  hath  begun  it.  '  A 
bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  smoking  flax  shall  he  not 
quench,  till  he  send  forth  judgment  unto  victory  c.''  "  Be  the 
condition  of  his  faithful  disciples  ever  so  mean  and  despicable, 
or  the  discouragements  they  meet  with  in  their  Christian  course 
ever  so  numerous  and  powerful,  instead  of  rejecting  and  for- 
saking them,  he  will  effectually  support  and  strengthen  them, 
till  he  make  the  cause  of  righteousness  and  truth  completely 
victorious." — When  our  Lord,  in  the  character  of  a  shepherd, 
would  express  his  affection  for  the  sheep,  and  his  resolution  to 
guard  them  from  the  assaults  of  Satan  the  devouring  lion,  and 
of  every  adversary  who  would  deprive  them  of  that  eternal  life 
he  gives  them ;  he  solemnly  declares,  '  They  shall  never  perish, 
neither  shall  any  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand.' — And  he  adds, 
*  My  Father  who  gave  them  me,  is  greater  than  all,  and  none 
is  able  to  pluck  them  out  of  my  Father's  hand  d'  So  that  the 
care  and  tenderness  of  Christ  the  Mediator,  and  the  almighty 
power  of  his  Father,  who  hath  given  them  to  him  that  he  might 

a  Jer.  xxxii.  40. 

b  2  Tim.  ii.  19.— 1  Pet.  i.  5.— Jude  1.— Joha  xiv.  19.— Heb.  vii.  25. 

c  Matt.  xii.  20.  d  John  x.  28,  29. 


390  RELIGION  AM 

redeem  them  with  his  blood,  are  united  for  their  continual  pro- 
tection and  final  salvation. — To  the  same  purpose  the  apostle 
speaks,  when,  having  comforted  the  Romans  and  himself,  amidst 
all  their  sufferings  in  the  cause  of  religion,  with  the  prospect  of 
a  certain  and  glorious  victory  through  him  that  had  loved  them, 
he  adds,  '  For  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor 
angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  corac,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature, 
shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord  a.  As  if  he  had  said,  "  I  may  well  be 
allowed  to  triumph  even  in  the  midst  of  the  combat,  since  I  am 
confident,  that  neither  the  dread  of  death,  arrayed  in  all  the  ter- 
rors that  persecution  can  devise ;  nor  the  desire  of  life,  excited 
by  every  imaginable  prospect  of  worldly  wealth  and  pleasure ; 
nor  the  united  opposition  of  infernal  spirits,  whatever  rank  they 
may  hold,  and  how  furious  soever  their  rage  may  be  ;  nor  events 
present  or  future,  be  they  what  they  may;  nor  the  height  of 
prosperity,  nor  the  depth  of  adversity ;  nor  any  other  creature 
throughout  the  universe ;  shall  be  able  to  separate  any  of  us, 
who  are  Christians  indeed,  from  the  love  of  God,  which  he  hath 
given  us  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  which  is  so  secured  to  us  in  him, 
as  that  it  shall  never  be  lost." — The  general  reflection  also 
which  the  apostle  John  makes  upon  the  apostacy  of  some  in 
those  early  times,  who  pretended  they  were  Christians,  when 
they  really  were  not  such,  falls  in  clearly  with  the  point  we  have 
been  establishing,  '  If  they  had  been  of  us,  they  would  no  doubt 
have  continued  with  us  6.'  "  If  with  us  they  had  entered  into 
the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  and  felt  the  inward  power  of  it  upon 
their  hearts,  they  would  doubtless  have  still  adhered  to  us. 
Their  views  being  sincere  and  upright,  they  would  have  seen 
no  cause  to  forsake  us,  and  the  grace  of  God  would  have  secured 
them  from  the  temptations  to  which  they  stood  exposed.  It 
hath,  however,  so  happened,  that  they  might  be  unade  mani' 
Jest  what  they  really  are,  and  that  their  fall  might  prove  a  warn- 
ing to  others ;  because  hereby  it  appears,  that  not  all  who  are 
with  us  in  the  profession  of  the  gospel,  are  indeed  of  our  num- 
ber, as  true  and  genuine  Christians.  But  ye  have  an  unction 
from  the  Holy  One,  and  ye  know  all  things ;  that  is,  Ye  have 
fi  Rom.  viii.  38,  39.  k  1  John  ii.  19,  20. 


ABIDING  PRINCIPLE.  391 

such  an  anointing  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  such  an  experimental 
acquaintance  with  all  the  essential  truths  of  Christianity,  as  will 
effectually  prevent  your  falling  into  those  snares,  which  have 
proved  fatal  to  these  unhappy  apostates." — Nor  can  I  forget  to 
mention  the  remarkable  promise  made  originally  to  Joshua,  and 
which  most  certainly  belongs  to  all  the  people  of  God,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  manner  of  its  application  in  the  epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  ;  '  I  will  not,  I  will  not  leave  thee,  I  will  never,  never, 
never  forsake  thee  :'  for  such  is  the  emphasis  of  the  original  a. 
Language  this,  which  conveys  a  strong  idea  of  the  immutability 
of  the  divine  love;  and  as  it  is  designed  to  encourage  our  con- 
fidence in  God's  readiness  to  assist  us  on  all  occasions,  and 
amidst  the  greatest  difficulties  and  temptations,  so  adds  no  small 
weight  to  the  general  argument. 

On  these  considerations  then,  may  we  rest  our  firm  persuasion, 
"  That  God  will  perform  the  good  work  he  hath  begun  in  every 
real  Christian." 

And  now  to  close  the  whole.  Let  me  remind  you,  Christians, 
of  your  infinite  obligations  to  the  grace  of  God.  You  can- 
not be  enough  thankful.  The  foundation  of  your  hope  is  laid 
in  grace ;  the  superstructure  is  raised  by  grace ;  and  the  top- 
stone  will  at  length  be  brought  vyith  shoutings,  crying,  Grace, 
grace  unto  it. — And  having  substantial  reason  to  conclude  that 
you  are  Christians  indeed,  if  what  hath  been  said  is  true,  vou 
have  surely  all  imaginable  cause  for  cheerfulness  and  joy,  as 
well  as  gratitude  and  praise. — Nor  will  this  doctrine,  if  rightly 
understood,  prove  an  occasion  of  sloth  and  indifference  to  an 
ingenuous  mind  :  on  the  contrary,  instead  of  relaxing,  it  will 
strengthen  the  nerves  of  the  soul,  and  mightily  quicken  and  in- 
vigor:^te  the  Christian  in  his  course  of  duty. — And  as  to  those 
who  are  disposed  to  turn  the  grace  of  God  into  licentiousness, 
it  is  sufficient  to  observe,  that  the  remotest  expression  of  such 
a  temper  may  justly  authorise  a  strong  presumption,  that  God 
hath  not  begun  a  good  work  in  that  man's  heart ;  and  that, 
therefore,  the  hopes  with  which  such  an  one  flatters  himself, 
are  vain  and  groundless.  But  I  am  persuaded  better  things  of 
you,  brethren,  and  things  which  accompany  salvation. 

a  Heb.  xiiL  5.    'Ou  ^>t  n  ivoi,  sS'  i  (iri  ti  lyKtcrxXlxa, 


DISCOURSE  XVI. 


THE  USE  OF  RELIGION  IN  DEATH. 

Psalm  xxiir.  4. —  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ,-  for  thou  art  with 
me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me. 

Of  the  many  arguments  that  may  be  urged  in  favour  of  reli- 
gion, its  usefulness  in  death  is  not  the  least.  Nay  this  is  an  ar- 
gument of  such  weighty  consideration,  that  it  might  well  de- 
mand our  most  serious  attention,  even  though  all  idea  of  the 
advantages  which  at  present  result  from  religion  were  held  en- 
tirely out  of  view.  For  where  is  the  man  who  would  not  be 
glad  to  find  himself  in  possession  of  something  that  will  admini- 
ster comfort  to  his  heart,  when  all  the  resources  of  nature  fail, 
and  he  is  just  upon  the  point  of  launching  into  an  unknown 
and  eternal  world?  Yea,  there  is  scarce  a  man  in  the  midst  of 
life,  be  he  ever  so  much  intoxicated  with  its  pleasures,  who, 
while  his  thoughts  are  by  some  circumstance  turned  upon  death, 
doth  not  secretly  envy  the  Christian  of  those  hopes  and  joys 
which  religion  alone  inspires.  He  may  dislike  religion  itself, 
but  to  its  utility  at  such  a  time,  his  conscience  cannot  forbear 
yielding  this  testimony.  Balaam  was  a  wicked  man,  yet  he 
spoke  the  sense  qf  his  heart  when  he  said,  Let  me  die  the  death 
of  the  righteous,  aiid  let  my  last  end  be  like  his  a.  And  if  a 
glance  only  at  death  will  force  an  acknowledgment  of  this  sort 
from  the  lips  of  men  of  profligate  lives,  what  advantage  may  we 
not  hope  will  result  from  a  steady  contemplation  of  it  ?  As  such 
a  realizing  prospect  of  our  final  dissolution  would  not  fail  to 
plead  strongly  in  favour  of  the  truth  and  importance  of  religion, 
so,  it  is  probable,  it  would  prove  a  powerful  mean,  with  the  bless- 
ing of  God,  of  conciliating  our  hearts  to  that  great  event, 
With  this  view  I  propose  now  to  discourse  particularly  of  death. 

0  Num.  xxiii.  10. 


THE  USE  OF  RELIGION,  &e^.  303 

Ami  how  great  will  be  my  happiness,  if,  while  I  am  describing 
its  terrors  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  effectual  antidote  which 
the  grace  of  God  hath  provided  against  those  terrors  on  the 
other,  I  should  be  an  instrument  of  winning  one  soul  to  the 
love  and  obedience  of  Christ  I 

To  this  subject  the  words  of  the  text  naturally  lead  me. 
David  was  a  great  and  mighty  prince  :  and  it  should  seom  from 
what  follows  in  the  next  verse,  that  he  was  at  this  time  in  the 
height  of  worldly  prosperity.  But  his  prosperity  did  not,  as  is 
too  often  the  case  with  us,  banish  death  from  his  thoughts. 
No.  He  knew  how  to  admit  a  contemplation  of  this  sort  amidst 
the  most  cheerful  scenes.  Nay  he  knew  how  hereby  to  add 
beauty  to  a  composure,  which  for  sprightliness  of  imagination 
and  softness  of  expression,  as  well  as  for  the  accuracy  and  just- 
ness with  which  he  keeps  up  the  figure,  exceeds  almost  any  other 
of  the  kind  in  the  book  of  Psalms. 

The  blessed  God  he  introduces  in  the  character  of  a  shep- 
herd, at  once  congratulating  himself  on  the  happiness  he  en- 
joyed under  his  pastoral  care,  and  expressing  his  assured  hope 
that  he  should  still  enjoy  the  divine  bounty,  guidance  and  pro- 
tection. '  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I  shall  not  want.  He 
maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  green  pastures :  he  leadeth  me  be- 
side the  still  waters.  He  restoreth  my  soul :  he  leadeth  me  in 
the  paths  of  righteousness  for  his  name's  sake  a.'  How  soft, 
how  soothing  the  description  !  The  tenderness  of  the  shepherd's 
heart  we  feel — the  peaceful  pleasures  of  the  happy  flock  we  en- 
joy. And  thus  is  represented  the  care  which  a  kind  and  mer- 
ciful God  vouchsafes  to  take  of  those  who  fear  him,  the  constant 
provision  he  makes  for  their  wants,  both  temporal  and  spiritual, 
the  seasonable  measures  he  uses  for  their  recovery,  when  through 
temptation  they  go  astray,  and  the  skilful  manner  in  which  he 
leads  and  guides  them  in  the  ways  of  knowledge,  truth  and  ho- 
liness. But,  as  a  farther  proof  of  the  shepherd's  tenderness 
and  love,  and  of  the  confidence  which  the  flock  securely  repose 
in  him,  he  changes  the  scene  from  green  pastures  and  still  waters 
to  a  dark  and  gloomy  vale.  '  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil :  for  thou  art 
with  me,  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me.' 
a  Ps;il.  xxiii.  1 — 3. 


394  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION' 

Some  arc  of  opinion  that  by  this  striking  image  the  psalmist 
means  to  describe,  not  death  itself,  but  some  affliction,  the  ter- 
ror;5  of  which  bear  a  near  resemblance  to  it.  And  certain  it  is 
that  there  are  afflictions,  especially  those  on  a  religious  account, 
which  when  they  rise  to  their  greatest  height  do  equal,  yea 
perhaps  exceed  the  anguish  felt  in  extreme  moments.  And 
David  is  frequently  used  to  compare  his  sorrows  to  those  of  a 
dying  man.  But  1  see  no  necessity  for  departing  from  the  first 
and  obvious  sense  of  the  words.  The  shadoiv  of  deaths  may, 
without  any  kind  of  impropriety,  be  understood  of  death  itself. 
Nay  it  is  thus  used  in  several  other  passages  of  Scripture,  as 
particularly,  w-here  Job  speaking  of  the  wicked  says,  '  The 
jnorning  is  to  them  even  as  the  shadow  of  death  :  if  one  know 
them,  they  are  in  the  terrors  of  the  shadow  of  death  a;'  that  is, 
they  dread  a  discovery  as  men  commonly  dread  death.  And 
the  phrase  in  the  text  might  be  rendered,  'the  valley  of  the 
deathly  shade.'  Considering  the  psalmist  therefore  as  speak- 
ing here  of  death,  wc  have  in  the  words — The  idea  he  framed 
of  it,  with  all  the  terrors  both  real  and  imaginary,  which  usuiJly 
attend  it — And  the  fortitude  of  mind  he  possessed  in  the  view 
of  it,  with  the  grounds  and  reasons  of  that  happy  temper. 

First,  His  description  of  death  is  amazingly  striking  and  ex- 
pressive. He  compares  it,  not  to  a  gate  through  which  a  man 
instantly  passes,  but  to  a  dark,  deep,  long,  dreary  vale.  A  vale 
over  which  hang  steep  and  craggy  precipices,  tremendous  to  be 
beheld,  and  which  cast  a  long  and  horrible  shade  all  through  it. 
A  vale  in  which  the  unhappy  traveller  is  exposed  to  various  and 
unknown  dangers,  where  he  is  liable  every  moment  to  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  pits  of  mire  and  water,  or  to  be  torn  in  pieces  by 
beasts  of  prey.  A  vale  in  which  his  ear  is  assaulted  with  hoarse 
and  dismal  sounds,  and  his  imagination  overpowered  with  black 
and  melancholy  ideas.  In  a  word,  a  vale  tedious  and  long,  and 
through  which  he  walks  with  a  slow  and  doubtful  pace.  So 
when  the  prophet  Jeremiah  speaks  of  the  wilderness  through 
which  the  Israelites  passed,  he  describes  it  as  a  land  of  deserts 
and  of  pits,  a  land  of  drought,  and  of  the  shadow  of  death ;  and 
a  land  that  no  man  had  been  used  to  pass  through,  and  ichere 
no  man  dwelt  b.  And,  as  if  the  figure  had  been  incapable  of 
a  Job  xxiv.  17.  h  Jer.  ii.  6. 


t 


IN  DEATH,  395 

fully  expressing  his  ideas,  he  introduces  the  king  of  terrors  him- 
self, that  huge  monster,  as  extending  his  shadow  large  and  hor- 
rible all  over  this  valley,  and  totally  obstructing  what  little  re- 
maining gleams  of  light  it  might  otherwise  enjoy.  And  thus 
into  his  account  of  death  he  takes  all  the  dismal  appendages,  all 
the  sad  solemnities  of  it.  So  that  here  is  a  combination  of 
gloomy  ideas,  darkness  and  danger,  solitariness  and  weariness, 
doubt  and  uncertainty,  fear  and  horror,  in  short  every  thing  that 
is  terrible,  frightful  and  alarming.  Such  is  his  description  of 
death.     And  now, 

Secondly,  What  is  his  language,  inspired  as  he  was  with 
the  hopes  and  comforts  of  religion,  in  the  view  of  this  sad  and 
solemn  scene  ?  /  will  fear  no  evil :  for  thou  art  with  me,  thy  rod 
and  thy  staff  they  comfort  me.  Happy  man  !  Who  would  not 
wish  to  possess  his  faith,  his  resolution  ? 

/  will  fear  no  evil.  Numerous  and  great  are  the  evils,  cs  we 
shall  quickly  see,  to  which  death  exposes  mankind — evils  which 
it  is  scarcely  possible  for  humanity,  much  less  for  a  guilty  con- 
science to  apprehend  without  dread.  "  But,  be  these  evils  what 
they  may,  I  will  not  fear  them.  No  ;  I  will  not,  though  at  the 
same  time  I  acknowledge  myself  a  feeble  helpless  sheep,  and  as 
such  prone  to  fear.  They  may  startle,  but  they  shall  not  con- 
found me.  They  may  at  their  first  appearance  surprise,  but 
they  shall  not  overcome  me.  I  will  not  yield  to  fear,  but  confi- 
dently rely  on  my  God.  Though  ten  thousands  of  these  evils 
set  themselves  against  me,  I  will  not  be  afraid.  No,  I  will  not 
fear  though  the  earth  be  removed,  and  though  the  mountains  be 
carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea."     And  why? 

Because  thou  art  with  me — "  Thou,  a  skilful  compassionate 
and  faithful  Shepherd,  who  well  knowest  the  dangers  which 
await  the  flock  in  this  dreary  valley ;  who  tenderly  pitiest  them 
amidst  their  weakness  and  their  fears,  and  art  ever  able  to  aid, 
support  and  deliver  them. — Thou  who  hast  hitherto  been  my 
shepherd ;  hast  guided  and  defended  me  all  my  days  :  hast  sup- 
plied my  wants,  when  every  resource  of  nature  hath  failed;  and 
restored  my  soul  when  on  the  brink  of  miseries  worse  than 
death. — Thou  art  with  me.  In  the  midst  of  this  gloomy  vale  I 
believe  thee  to  be  present.  Here  I  have  thee  immediately  be- 
fore my  eye.     I  feel,  I  enjoy  thy  comforting,  thine  enlivening 


396  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

presence.  Therefore  I  will  not,  I  do  not  fear."  And  good 
warrant  had  he,  hath  every  Christian,  for  such  confidence.  God 
liirascif  says,  '  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with  thee;  be  not  dis- 
mayed, for  I  am  thy  God ;  I  will  strengthen  thee,  yea  I  will 
uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness  «.'  And 
a<'ain,  '  When  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with 
thee  ;  and  through  the  rivers  they  shall  not  overflow  thee  :  when 
thou  walkcst  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be  burnt;  neither 
shall  the  flame  kindle  upon  thee  h* 

He  adds — Tliy  rod  and  thy  staff  they  cmnfort  me.  The  rod 
and  the  staff  denote  the  same  thing,  the  pastoral  care,  of  which 
they  are  both  the  signs  and  the  instruments.  With  the  one 
and  the  other  (for  they  are  terms  promiscuously  used  in  Scrip- 
ture) the  shepherd  is  said  to  feed  c  his  flock,  and  to  number 
them  d.  His  crook  he  uses  to  guide  them  from  field  to  field, 
to  bring  them  back  when  they  wander  into  by-paths,  to  remove 
obstructions  out  of  their  way,  and  to  drive  off  beasts  of  prey 
when  they  would  scatter,  worry  or  devour  them.  And  by  such 
figures  doth  he  describe  those  divine  influences,  by  which  he 
was  well  assured  he  should  be  sustained  in  his  last  moments. 
^'  Unfruitful  as  that  valley  may  seem,  he  will  thei-e  find  pasture 
to  feed  me  with.  Dark  and  intricate  as  the  way  may  be,  with 
his  staff  he  will  point  out  the  path  for  me,  and  prevent  my  fall- 
ing into  pits  that  would  ingulph  and  swallow  me  up.  And  nu- 
merous as  the  evils,  temptations  and  fears  may  be  that  there  as- 
sault me,  with  his  rod  he  will  drive  them  all  away.  Thus  does 
my  Shepherd,  in  these  moments  of  distress  and  affliction,  and 
when  pity  is  the  only  aid  the  kindest  friend  can  administer,  sus- 
tain, defend  and  comfort  me." 

If  by  the  rod  and  staff  here  the  psalmist  designed  to  convey 
an  idea  of  any  special  means  of  support  and  consolation  afforded 
the  Christian  in  these  circumstances,  it  may  very  well  be  ex- 
plained of  the  gospel,  which  he  himself  calls  in  another  place 
'  the  rod  of  Clod's  strength  e.'  With  the  rich  discoveries,  and 
the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  of  the  Bible,  the  spi- 
rits of  the  dying  saint  are  sometimes  revived,  and  his  hopes 
wrought  up  to  divine  ecstasy  and  triumph.     So  that,  touched 

fl  Tsa.  xli.  10.  b  Chap.  xHii,  2.  c  Mic.  vii.  I'k— Zech.  xi.  7. 

d  Lev.  xxvii.  32.        e  Psal.  ex.  2. 


IN  DEATH.  39t 

with  the  rod  of  the  gentle  Shepherd,  whose  cheering  smiles  he 
all  the  while  beholds,  his  enraptured  soul  cries  out  with  tri- 
umphant joy,  amid  the  gloomy  horrors  of  this  dark  valley,  '  O 
death,  where  is  thy  sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?  The 
sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But 
thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  me  the  victory,  through  Jesus 
Christ  my  Lord  a.' 

Thus  have  I  briefly  explained  the  striking  description  the 
psalmist  gives  us  of  death,  and  his  fortitude  in  the  prospect  of  it. 
And  now  from  this  subject  I  shall  take  occasion, 

I.  To  enter  into  a  more  particular  consideration  of  death,  and 
of  those  many  circumstances  v»'hich  render  the  very  apprehen- 
sion of  it  awakening  and  terrible. 

II.  To  lay  before  you  the  supports  and  comforts  which  re- 
ligion is  adapted  to  afford  the  Christian  in  this  sad  season;  and 
then, 

III.  To  improve  the  whole. 

I.  I  am  to  attempt  a  more  particular  description  of  death. 

Now  in  our  account  of  death  we  shall  include  the  preceding 
and  consequent  circumstances  of  it.  For  in  this  meditation  we 
must  not  place  ourselves  at  the  end  of  the  valley,  but  with  the 
psalmist  be  content  for  a  few  minutes  to  go  down  into  the  dreary 
vale,  yea,  to  walk  through  it.  And  how  reluctant  soever  we  may 
be  to  a  contemplation  of  this  sort,  there  are  the  most  weighty 
considerations  to  persuade  us  to  it.  Die  we  must  by  and  by, 
whether  we  will  or  not.  And  studiously  to  avoid  the  thought  of 
it  beforehand,  argues  an  imbecility  of  mind,  to  say  the  least  of 
it,  which  is  highly  censurable  upon  the  most  generally  acknow- 
ledged principles  of  wisdom  and  prudence.  Besides,  the  folly 
of  such  a  temper  must  needs  be  exceeding  great,  since  a  fami- 
liarity with  death  is  one  very  likely  mean,  with  the  blessing  of 
God,  to  subdue  the  fear  of  it,  and  to  prepare  us  for  it.  No 
apology  therefore  need  be  made  for  describing  that  which, 
though  painful  to  be  beheld  even  at  a  distance,  will  doubtless 
be  infinitely  more  painful  when  it  comes  upon  us,  if  not  thus 
considered  and  realized  beforehand. 

To  suppose  that  death  is  an  innocent  harmless  thing,  is  to 
contradict  the  common  sense  and  feelings  of  mankind.  And  to 
a  1  Cor.  XV,  53—57. 


398  THE  USE  OF  nELTGIO?J 

consider  it  as  the  mere  efiect  of  our  original  frame  and  consti- 
tution, and  not  as  a  punishment  likewise  inflicted  on  us  for  our 
sins,  is  to  contradict  the  express  declarations  of  the  Bible.  We 
all  dread  death :  and  a  dread  that  is  so  universal  can  hardly  be 
imagined  to  proceed  entirely  from  groundless  superstition. 
There  are  some  indeed  who  affect  to  speak  lightly  of  it :  yet 
even  these  can  scarce  see  the  stroke  given  to  a  relation  or  a 
friend,  especially  if  it  be  sudden,  without  shrinking  back  at  the 
sight.  Or  if  they  have  resolution  enough  to  command,  their 
countenances  and  feelings  on  such  an  occasion;  yet  when  it 
comes  to  their  turn  to  die,  they  find,  I  may  venture  to  affirm, 
an  inward  shuddering  at  the  prospect,  which  must  methinks  con- 
vince them  that  that  fear  of  it  proceeds  from  other  causes  than 
mere  superstition.  Let  us  therefore,  by  taking  such  a  particu- 
lar view  of  death  as  fact  and  observation  furnish,  enter  into  the 
several  causes  of  that  dread  of  it,  which  mankind  thus  universally 
feel.  Here  then  we  will  consider  it  in  two  points  of  view,  as  a 
natural,  and'  as  a  moral  evi! ;  that  is,  as  it  appears  in  the  appre- 
hension of  Nature  and  of  Conscience. 

First,  How  tremendous  is  death,  even  when  we  view  it  as  a 
natural  evil  only,  and  separate  from  all  considerations  of  a  moral 
and  religious  kind  !  The  usual  forerunners  of  it,  the  stroke  it- 
self, and  the  consequence  of  it  as  to  the  body  and  this  world,  do 
each  of  them  excite  fear. 

1.  The  usual  forerunners  of  it;  by  which  I  mean  sickness,  and 
the  other  preceding  accidental  circumstances  of  dying.  These 
are  the  heralds  of  the  pale  conqueror,  who  go  before  him  to  pro- 
claim his  approach.  And  their  appearance  is  many  times  as 
tremendous,  yea,  perhaps  more  so  than  that  of  the  conqueror 
himself.  The  house  must  be  shaken  before  it  comes  down ; 
the  fortress  assaulted  before  a  breach  is  made  :  and  the  vessel  toss- 
ed about  with  fierce  winds,  before  the  tempest  tears  it  to  pieces. 
Circumstances  these,  extremely  alarming  to  those  who  are  imme- 
diately concerned.  In  like  manner,  the  burning  fever,  the  wast- 
ing consumption,  the  racking  stone,  and  various  other  diseases, 
either  secretly  mine  the  foundation,  or  suddenly  and  furiously 
pull  down  the  walls  of  these  earthly  houses.  And  how  can  such 
assaults  upon  the  human  frame  be  even  distantly  apprehended, 
much  less  actually  endured,  without  exciting  horror  i*  We  groan 


I'N  DEATtf.  399 

being  burdened^  is  not  the  language  of  old  age  only,  but  many- 
times  of  early  life,  and  always  of  a  broken  and  declining  constitu- 
tion. And  can  we  hear  these  groans,  and  not  be  affected  with 
them?  Can  we  stand  by  a  sick-bed,  and  see  a  friend  languishing 
thereon,  turning  restless  from  side  to  side,  counting  impatiently 
the  passing  minutes,  loathing  every  cordial  offered  him,  and  for 
days  and  weeks  it  may  be  dying,  as  Job  expresses  it,  '  in  the  bit- 
terness of  his  soul;'  can  we,  I  say,  be  witnesses  of  all  this,  with- 
out feeling  a  chill  on  our  blood  and  spirits  ?  It  is  a  sad  scene. 
And  the  solemnity  of  the  scene  increases  as  death  advances. 
Every  step  the  last  enemy  takes,  alarms.  Every  fresh  symptom 
strikes  terror  into  spectators,  and  spreads  silence  and  gloominess 
through  the  dwelling.  The  disease  baffles  the  power  of  medi- 
cine— They  who  stand  by  observe  its  progress — the  dying  man 
watches  their  looks — He  suspects  his  case  to  be  desperate — The 
physician  at  length  pronounces  it  so — He  believes  it.  Now  the 
wheel  of  life  goes  down  apace.  The  vital  flame  burns  faint  and 
irregular.  Reason  intermits.  Short  intervals  of  sense  divide 
his  thoughts  and  passions  ;  now — himself  is  the  object;  then — 
his  family.  His  friends,  his  relations,  his  children  crovvd  around 
his  bed,  shed  their  unavailing  tears  over  him,  and  receive  his 
last  blessing.  His  pulse  beats  a  surrender  to  the  pale  conqueror. 
His  eyes  swim — His  tongue  faulters — A  cold  sweat  bedews  his 
face — He  groans — He  expires.  Thou  changest  his  counte- 
nance^ and  sendest  him  away  a.  Can  it  be  wondered  that  such 
scenes  t^s  these  affect  us?  Or  is  it  a  virtue  in  any  one  to  be  a 
cool  and  unconcerned  spectator  of  them?  Thus  are  the  preced- 
ing circumstances  of  death  tremendous.     And  so  is, 

2.  The  stroke  itself.  Not  having  indeed  felt  it,  we  cannot 
frame  adequate  conceptions  of  it.  Yet  it  must  needs  be  painful 
and  distressing,  and  so  a  just  cause  of  fear.  The  friendship  be- 
tween soul  and  body  is  strong,  like  that  between  David  and 
Jonathan.  The  connection  is  very  intimate:  it  is  the  closest 
of  all  unions.  It  interests  each  party  in  the  others  pains  and 
pleasures,  and  that  in  so  sensible  and  instantaneous  a  manner  as 
is  truly  astonishing.  That  therefore  which  dissolves  the  union, 
cannot  but  be  a  violent  shock  to. nature ;  and  so  it  appears  to  be, 
by  the  struggles  which  many  endure  in  the  article  of  death. 

a  Job  xiv.  20. 


400  THE  L*SE  OF  RELIGION 

The  swellings  of  Jordan  can  scarce  be  beheld  without  shivering, 
especially  by  him  who  stands  at  the  brink  of  it,  and  is  just 
launching  into  it.  Indeed  we  know  not,  as  I  said,  what  it  is  to 
die :  imagination  therefore,  may  unduly  heighten  the  terror  of 
dying.  Yet,  as  this  great  change  is  a  transgression  of  the  original 
law  of  our  existence,  and  hath  evident  symptoms  of  pain  and 
anguish  attending  it,  it  would  be  unnatural  not  to  dread  it.  It 
is  the  king  of  terrors,  the  first,  the  chiefest,  the  mightiest  of  all 
natural  evils.     And  then  again, 

3.  What  follows,  I  mean  in  regard  of  this  world,  must  needs 
Inake  death  yet  farther  distressing  in  the  apprehension  of  hu- 
manity. It  closes  the  present  scene,  that  scene  of  action  and 
enjoyment  with  which  we  have  been  sensibly  conversant,  and  of 
which  alone  we  have  any  clear  and  adequate  ideas.  It  dissolves, 
for  ever  dissolves,  our  connections  with  this  world,  its  inhabi- 
tants, businesses  and  pleasures.  As  to  man,  says  Job,  his  ex- 
cellency then  goes  aivay  a.  His  thoughts^  says  the  psalmist, 
his  schemes,  purposes  and  resolutions,  as  to  the  present  life,  in 
that  very  day  perish  b.  He  dieth,  and  he  can  carry  nothing 
away  with  him  c.  Considerations  these,  which  had  their  effect 
upon  good  Hezekiah  himself,  when  in  the  view  of  death,  the 
reasonings  of  nature  for  a  while  overpowered  the  dictates  of 
faith  and  religion — '  I  shall  not  see,'  said  he,  '  the  Lord,  even 
the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living:  I  shall  behold  man  no  more 
with  the  inhabitants  of  the  world  </.'  But  how  must  these  con- 
siderations aggravate  the  horrors  of  death  in  his  apprehen- 
sion, whose  heart  is  rivetted  to  the  world,  and  who  hath  no  fu- 
ture prospect  to  balance  the  loss  of  present  enjoyments  !  And 
then  the  state  in  which  the  body  is  left,  a  pale,  cold,  inactive, 
breathless  corpse,  and  the  deformed,  corrupted,  nauseous  con- 
dition, to  which  it  is  quickly  reduced,  add  a  farther  terror  to 
death.  Whence  we  find,  that  the  very  ensigns  of  mortality, 
though  in  themselves  of  trifling  consideration,  I  mean  the  shroud, 
the  coffin,  the  mattock,  the  grave,  give  a  sudden  chill  to  the 
spirits  of  unthinking  persons.  Now,  on  all  these  accounts,  it 
is  easily  seen  how  death,  considered  as  a  natural  evil  only,  of 
necessity  excites  fear.     But  the  principal  consideration  is, 

a  Job  iv.  21.  b  Psal.  cxlvi.  4. 

c  Psal.  xlix,  17.  d  Isa.  xxxviii.  11. 


IN  DEATH.  401 

Secondly,  The  terror  it  occasions  to  the  conscience  through 
an  apprehension  and  sense  of  guilt. 

I  shall  not  take  up  your  time  with  proving  particularly  that 
sin  is  the  cause  of  death,  and  that  it  is  inflicted  on  mankind,  as 
the  proper  punishment  of  it.  This  might,  with  good  reason,  be 
suspected  from  the  account  we  have  given  of  the  fact,  since  it 
is  not  conceivable,  that  a  just  and  good  God  would  deal  thus 
with  his  creatures,  if  they  had  not  somehow  or  other  merited  his 
displeasure.  And  Scripture  puts  the  matter  beyond  all  dispute ; 
Death  hath  passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned  a. 
But  my  business  rather  is,  to  describe  the  horror  which  a  con- 
sciousness of  guilt  infuses  into  death.  This  is  strongly  ex- 
pressed by  the  apostle  when  he  describes  sin  as  the  sti7ig  of 
death  b.  And  indeed  so  it  is.  Hence  the  Kinij  of  terrors  de- 
rives  his  chief  power  to  domineer,  tyrannize  and  triumph  over 
mankind.  This  is  that  which  gives  his  countenance  the  most 
deformed  and  revengeful  aspect,  and  puts  a  rod  of  iron  into  his 
hands  wherewith  to  scourge  his  miserable  captives.  The  natu- 
ral fortitude  of  which  some  men  are  possessed  might  enable 
them  to  subdue,  in  a  degree  at  least,  those  causes  of  fear  which 
were  just  now  mentioned.  But  this,  where  it  prevails,  quickly 
pulls  down  the  most  stubborn  spirits,  and  resists  the  force  of  all 
soothing  considerations  whatever,  except  those  which  religion 
affords.  There  are  instances  indeed  of  those  whose  consciences 
are  so  hardened,  that  to  appearance  they  are  little  affected  with 
this  kind  of  dread  in  the  view  of  death.  But  it  might  easily  be 
proved,  that  the  consciences  of  such  men  are  in  a  diseased  and 
ininatural  state ;  so  that  though  their  stupidity  may  prevent 
some  present  painful  sensations,  it  is  not  to  be  accounted  an  ad- 
vantage to  them,  as  it  will  but  be  an  aggravation  of  their  future 
misery.  This  however  is  far  from  being  the  case  with  the  ge- 
nerality of  mankind.  Infinite  numbers  there  are  who,  when 
they  enter  this  dark  valley,  acknowledge  that  the  principal  hor- 
rors of  it  owe  their  existence  to  a  reflection  on  their  past  guilt. 
Conscience,  though  it  hath  long  slept,  usually  awakes  then : 
and  loud,  very  loud  and  clamorous,  are  its  reproaches.  How 
tremendous  to  have  my  sins,  innumerable,  heinaus,  aggravated, 
repeated  sins,  brought  up  to  my  view,  set  in  order  before  my 
a  Rom.  V.  12.  6  1  Cor.  xv.  56. 

VOL.  I.  CO 


40Si  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

eyes,  and  charged  home  upon  my  conscience ;  and  all  this  at  a 
time  when  I  am  languishing  upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  broken 
with  pain  and  sorrow  !  This  surely  must  be  distressing  to  the 
last  degree ;  especially  when  the  guilt  which  thus  stares  a  man 
in  the  face,  points  not  only  to  death  as  its  proper  punishment, 
but  to  consequences  still  more  awful  in  the  world  to  come. 

Death  must  be  dreadful  even  to  the  man  who  hath  wrought 
himself  up  to  a  confident  assurance,  if  that  be  possible,  that 
there  is  no  future  state.  For  how  can  I  think  of  being  quickly 
annihilated,  and  having  all  my  powers  of  action  and  enjoyment 
cut  off,  and  for  ever  absorbed  in  silence,  darkness  and  death, 
without  being  wretchedly  melancholy  in  the  immediate  prospect 
of  such  a  thick  and  impenetrable  gloom  ?  The  only  force  there 
is  in  such  a  consideration  to  alleviate  the  dread  of  dying,  is 
the  comparative  pleasure  arising  from  a  hope  of  escaping  what 
is  worse  than  ceasing  to  exist.  But  such  a  confident  assurance 
of  annihilation  is  what  I  imagine  few  possess.  We  will  sup- 
pose then  the  man  to  be  totally  in  the  dark  about  what  is  to 
come.  His  views  of  another  world  are  broken,  confused  and 
distracted.  He  is  going  he  knows  not  whither.  He  is  launch- 
incp  into  a  wide  sea,  without  either  compass  or  rudder  to  steer 
by.  How  must  such  a  wandering,  fluctuating,  uncertain  state 
of  mind  greatly  heighten  and  exasperate  his  natural  dread  of 
death,  which  he  sees  to  be  inevitable  ! 

But  if  we  put  the  last,  and  perhaps  the  most  common  case  of 
all,  where  the  conscience  is  alarmed,  I  mean  the  apprehension 
of  a  future  judgment,  and  the  miseries  of  the  damned;  how  ex- 
ceedingly tremendous  must  be  the  appearance  of  the  king  of 
terrors  under  these  circumstances  ! — Death  on  his  pale  horse, 
and  hell  following  with  him  a  ! — The  officer  come  to  arrest  the 
sinner,  and  bring  him  before  the  tribunal  of  a  just  and  holy 
God,  whence  he  is  instantly  to  be  sentenced  to  the  abodes  of 
darkness,  misery  and  despair  ! — Indeed  the  scene  is  almost  too 
horrible  to  be  painted — The  distant  imagination  of  it  is  the  sha- 
dow of  death — What !   O  what  then  must  be  the  reality  ! 

And  now  this  account  of  death,  imperfect  as  it  is,  I  have 
given  you,  in  order  to  open  the  way  to  a  prospect  as  cheerful 
and  enlivening,    as  that  hath    been  sad   and  solemn.     Who 

a  Rev.  vi.  8. 


IN   DEATH.  403 

would  not  be  glad,  when  he  enters  this  dark  and  dreary  vale, 
as  we  all  shortly  must,  to  possess  the  hopes  and  joys,  and  con- 
sequently the  fortitude  and  resolution  the  psalmist  expresses  in 
the  text  ? 

PART  II. 

From  the  view  we  have  taken  of  death,  and  of  those  many 
circumstances  which  render  the  very  apprehension  of  it  awaken- 
ing and  terrible,  I  proceed, 

II.  To  describe  the  supports  and  comforts  which  religion  is 
adapted  to  afford  the  Christian  in  this  awful,  this  trying  season. 
Now,  in  order  to  set  its  utility  and  importance  at  this  time  in  a 
proper  light,  we  shall  consider — The  state  in  which  deathfinds 
the  real  Christian — And  the  extraordinary  aids  and  consolations 
which  are  then  granted  him. 

First,  The  state  in  which  deathfinds  the  Christian^  is  such 
as  gives  him  great  advantage  against  most  of  those  evils,  which 
render  this  last  event  so  very  formidable. 

I  mean  not  by  what  I  have  here  to  say,  to  raise  the  character 
of  the  good  man  above  its  proper  standard,  to  divest  him  of  in- 
firmities and  sins  which  are  scarcely  avoidable  in  the  present 
life,  or  to  describe  him  so  mortified  to  the  world,  and  so  ele- 
vated to  heaven,  as  to  be  perfectly  superior  to  the  feelings  and 
fears  common  to  humanity.  No;  I  am  sensible  the  best  of 
men  are  but  men.  Yet,  upon  a  sober  review  of  the  nature  and 
tendency  of  religion,  it  will  be  found  to  have  a  force  in  it,  where 
it  prevails,  to  alleviate  our  fears  of  death,  and  in  a  degree  at 
least  to  reconcile  us  to  it.  What  is  it  that  makes  us  afraid  to 
die?  It  is,  as  you  have  seen,  the  pain  of  dying,  and  the  mise- 
ries we  apprehend  will  follow.  And  what  is  it  that  makes  us, 
though  we  are  not  afraid  of  death,  yet  reluctant  to  it?  It  is  an 
unwillingness  to  part  with  this  world,  and  an  unsuitableness  of 
temper  to  another.  Now,  if  the  grace  of  God  makes  such  a 
change  in  the  state  and  temper  of  a  man,  as  doth  materially  af- 
fect each  of  these  causes,  both  of  fiear  and  reluctance ;  its  infi- 
nite utility  and  advantage  at  this  time  we  shall  clearly  see  and 
acknowledge. 

First,  As  to  dread  of  death.  Peace  with  God,  and  a  sub- 
jection of  heart  to  his  will,  are  surely  the  most  effectual  antidotes 

CO  2 


404  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

against  each  of  those  causes  of  it  which  were  just  now  mention- 
ed.    For, 

1.  In  regard  of  the  disorders  that  usually  precede  death,  and 
the  pain  itself  of  dying ;  what  can  fortify  the  breast  against  an 
undue  dread  of  these  evils  Uke  a  sense  of  God's  favour,  and  a 
meek  submission  of  heart  to  his  will?  Natural  courage,  indeed, 
some  men  possess  in  a  greater  degree  than  others.  And  it  is 
doubtless  of  no  small  use  to  them  at  such  seasons.  But  it  is  a 
courage  of  very  different  consideration  from  that  I  am  here 
speaking  of.  It  is  purely  constitutional  and  mechanical;  and 
so  is  little,  if  at  all,  owing  to  any  prudent  or  rational  considera- 
tions that  suggest  themselves  to  the  mind.  Wherefore,  the 
prop£r  and  usual  expressions  of  it  are  a  wild  kind  of  fierceness, 
or  an  unmeaning  sort  of  stupidity.  And  then,  as  it  depends 
wholly  on  the  temperament  of  the  blood  and  animal  spirits,  long 
and  tedious  illness  is  almost  sure  to  subdue  and  conquer  it. 
But  the  courage  a  man  would  wish  to  possess,  when  he  is  enter- 
ing the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  is  an  even,  serene,  com- 
posed state  of  mind,  accompanied  with  a  patient  submission  to 
the  will  of  God.  Now  this  temper  religious  principles,  and 
those  only,  can  inspire. 

What  is  the  true  and  proper  character  of  a  real  Christian? 
He  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  perfections,  providence  and  grace  of 
God.  To  God  he  is  reconciled  by  Jesus  Christ,  and  as  he  hath 
a  humble  confidence  in  the  divine  mercy,  so  his  heart  is-  sub- 
jected to  the  divine  authority,  and  his  angry  and  tumultuous 
passions  are  softened  and  subdued.  Now  I  ask,  Is  not  the  mart 
of  this  character,  the  fittest  of  all  others  to  contend  with  the  in- 
firmities of  nature,  and  with  death  itself?  To  be  afflicted,  doth 
not  seem  to  such  a  man,  a  strange  or  an  unreasonable  thing ; 
much  less  is  he  prone  to  censure  such  dispensations  as  severe 
and  unjust.  "  Can  the  judge  of  all  the  earth  do  wrong  ?  Shall 
a  living  man  complain,  a  man  for  the  punishment  of  his  sins?" 
^ehath  learned  in  his  measure  to  bear  the  yoke,  to  deny  him- 
self, and  to  make  account  of  pain  and  sorrow  in  time  to  come. 
And  having  been  thus  disciplined  by  the  providence  and  grace 
of  God,  much  of  that  impatience,  murmuring,  and  fretfulness 
is  prevented,  which  are  not  only  very  displeasing  to  God,  but 
which  tend  to  heighten  and  exasperate  the  anguish  and  misery 


IN  DEATH.  405 

which  attend  bodily  diseases :  not  to  say  here,  how  religious 
considerations  may  be  supposed  to  soothe  and  refresh  the  heart 
of  such  a  man,  in  those  moments  when  a  suspension  of  violent 
pain  enables  him  to  think  and  reflect ;  and  how  his  affliction 
may  be  abated,  by  his  being  thus  in  a  better  capacity  than  others, 
to  relish  the  mercies  that  are  mingled  with  it.  Religion  then 
is  adapted  to  divest  death  of  its  natural  terrors,  or  at  least  to 
soften  and  assuage  them.  And  how  it  precludes  the  other  main 
cause  of  fear,  I  mean, 

2.  The  sad  apprehension  of  future  miseries,  will  easily  ap- 
pear. This  is  the  bitterest  ingredient  by  far,  in  this  last  cup 
given  us  to  drink.  The  condition  of  the  awakened,  desponding 
sinner,  in  the  immediate  view  of  death  and  eternity  is  dreadful 
beyond  description.  He  possesses  the  sins  of  his  youth  and 
his  riper  years,  secret  and  open,  with  the  horrid  aggravations  of 
them.  They  stare  him  full  in  the  face,  and  tell  him  loudly, 
that  he  righteously  deserves  the  wrath  of  God.  These  whips, 
these  scorpions,  lash  his  conscience,  and  make  him  a  terrible 
spectacle  to  beholders.  He  would  draw  a  veil  over  what  is  past, 
but  he  cannot.  He  remembers  the  warnings  which  Providence, 
which  his  friends,  which  ministers,  which  his  own  conscience  have 
again  and  again  given  him,  and  how  he  slighted,  opposed,  and 
despised  them.  These  things  he  calls  to  mind,  and  they  pierce 
him  to  the  heart ;  while  at  the  same  time,  all  hope  of  mercy  is 
gone,  and  scenes  of  future  misery  crowd  upon  his  sight. 

Now,  the  experience  and  practice  of  religion  prevent,  in  a 
great  measure,  these  painful  reflections,  and  those  agonizing 
prospects.  For  it  is  the  happiness  of  the  Christian,  to  have  es- 
caped many  of  the  evils  which  occasion  such  keen  and  pungent 
sensations.  So  that  his  conscience  is  not  in  the  diseased  and 
restless  state  of  his  we  have  been  describing.  And  then,  as  to 
the  many  sins  and  corruptions  he  has  to  lament,  they  are  for 
Christ's  sake  forgiven  him,  and  he  is  freed  from  condemnation. 
So  that  he  hath  no  real  ground  for  those  sad  and  distracting  re- 
flections which  torture  the  wicked ;  nor  can  those  objects  of 
future  terror  which  assault  their  imagination,  be  with  truth  pre- 
sented to  his.  He  may,  indeed,  question  his  interest  in  the  fa- 
vour of  God,  and  doubt  of  his  future  happiness.  But  still  there 
is  a  difference  between  the  discouragements  of  a  timorous  Chris- 


406  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

tian,  whose  animal  spirits  too  are  enfeebled  by  bodily  disorder ; 
and  the  anguish  which  he  feels,  who  at  this  awful  time  is  con- 
scious to  himself  that  he  has  lived  in  sin,  and  is  an  enemy  to 
God  and  religion.  And  though  God  may,  for  a  time,  hide  his 
face  from  the  Christian,  and  permit  Satan  to  buffet  him  with 
his  temptations;  yet,  for  the  most  part,  the  storm  after  a  while 
subsides,  and  peace  is  restored  to  his  breast. 

Peace  of  conscience  then,  in  a  reflection  on  what  is  past,  and 
serenity  of  temper  in  the  contemplation  of  what  is  to  come,  are, 
if  I  may  so  express  it,  the  natural  and  proper  state  of  his  mind 
who  is  truly  religious.  So  that  if  the  health  of  the  soul  be  not 
disordered,  through  any  of  the  causes  just  hinted  at,  these  ef- 
fects of  such  health  will  appear  as  well  at  the  close  of  life,  as  in 
the  midst  of  it.  And  this  is  very  commonly  the  case.  Mark 
the  perfect  man,  behold  the  upright ,-  for  the  end  of  that  man  is 
peace  a.  He  is  not,  it  may  be,  transported  with  future  hopes 
and  prospects;  yet,  upon  the  faith  of  the  gospel,  and  a  serious 
review  of  his  own  state,  he  is  well  satisfied  that  it  is  all  right  be- 
tween God  and  him  :  and  so  he  is  calm  and  easy.  An  eternal 
world  he  sees  immediately  before  him ;  yet  he  enjoys  the  quiet 
possession  of  himself.  Of  the  importance  of  death  he  is  sensi- 
ble ;  yet  he  is  not  afraid  to  die. — How  desirable  is  it  in  such 
a  state  as  this  to  meet  the  last  enemy  !  Can  we  be  one  moment 
at  a  loss  to  determine  which  is  to  be  preferred,  the  pleasures  of 
a  peaceful,  or  the  terrors  of  a  self-condemning  conscience  ?  the 
dread  of  future  wrath,  or  a  cheerful  confidence  in  the  divine 
mercy,  through  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ  ?  The  happiness  is 
unspeakable  to  be  able  then  to  say,  "  This  is  my  rejoicing,  that 
in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity,  not  with  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by 
the  grace  of  God,  I  have  had  my  conversation  in  the  world  b  : 
and  though  I  am  conscious  of  much  guilt,  and  am  utterly  inca- 
pable of  atoning  it;  yet  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  hath  cleajised 
mcay  all  my  sins,  and  in  him  the  beloved  I  am  accepted  e."  Re- 
ligion then  is  the  noblest  antidote  against  the  dread  of  death. 

But,  admitting  ^hat  some  men  who  are  strangers  to  the  grace 
of  God,  do  yet  through  hardiness  of  natural  constitution  feel 
little  or  no  dread  of  death  itself,  and  through  downright  infi- 
delity, or  at  least  inattention,  are  little  affected  with  the  appre-^ 
a  Psal.  xxxvii.  37.  h  2  Cor.  i.  12.  c  1  John  i.  7.— Eph.  i.  6. 


IN  DEATH.  40T 

hension  of  its  consequences  in  the  world  to  come ;  they  are 
nevertheless  on  other  accounts  very  unwillinfv  to  die.     Now, 

Secondly,  As  to  this  reluctance  to  death.  The  grace  of  God 
strikes  at  the  main  cause  of  it,  I  mean  a  criminal  attachment  to 
the  present  world,  and  a  perfect  unsuitableness  of  disposition  to 
the  heavenly  state  :  and  so,  by  correcting  and  subduing  these 
tempers,  it  gives  the  Christian  an  advantage  over  death,  in 
this  view  of  it,  above  another  man, 

1.  In  regard  of  the  present  worlds  it  loosens  his  attachment 
to  it,  and  so  makes  the  idea  of  parting  with  it  less  irksome  and 
disagreeable. 

The  man  who  is  destitute  of  real  piety  is  a  friend  of  the 
^orld.  There  is  an  habitual  love  of  it  prevailing  in  his  heart. 
He  walks  by  sight.  He  minds  earthly  things.  Either  the  pro- 
fits, honours  or  pleasures  of  the  present  life  are  his  main  enjoy- 
ments. They  are  the  idols  he  worships,  and  at  the  very  apprehen- 
sion of  being  stripped  of  them,  he  cries  out  with  Micah,  '  They 
would  take  away  my  gods,  and  what  have  I  more  a?'  Now  to 
one  of  this  character  the  thought  of  dying  must  be  very  sad  in- 
deed !  He  can  look  upon  death  in  no  other  light  than  that  of  a 
fierce  robber,  who  aims  at  spoiling  him  of  his  best  and  most  va- 
luable possessions. 

But  the  reverse  of  this  is  the  character  of  a  man  of  religion. 
An  estimate  he  has  made  of  the  world,  and  joined  issue  with 
Solomon  in  the  sentence  he  pronounces  upon  it.  He  has  look- 
ed around  him  upon  this  and  the  other  delectable  enjoyment, 
and  with  eagerness  put  the  question.  Is  happiness,  perfect 
happiness  in  you  ?  So  he  hath  said  to  wealth  and  power  and 
honour,  to  the  gratifications  of  sense,  to  improvements  in  human 
knowledge,  to  the  sweets  of  friendship,  and  to  the  tender  feel- 
ings of  consanguinity  and  natural  affection.  And  in  tlie  reply 
they  each  make  he  has  readily  acquiesced.  Whatever  com- 
parative value  therefore  there  may  be  in  these  enjoyments  them- 
selves, or  however  unduly  his  passions  may  be  sometimes  capti- 
vated with  them ;  his  judgment  is  fully  convinced  of  their 
vain  and  unsatisfying  nature,  and  his  heart  is  by  the  grace  of 
God  rescued  from  the  dominion  they  once  had  over  him.  '  By 
the  cross  of  Christ  he  is  crucified  to  the  world,  and  the  world 
a  Judges  xviii.  2^. 


408  THE  USE  OF  RTiLIGION 

to  him  a.'  Now  surely  this  indifference  to  the  things  of  sense, 
which  is  unquestionably  the  natural  and  genuine  fruit  of  true 
religion,  must  needs  have  a  happy  effect  to  abate,  if  not  wholly 
overcome,  a  man's  reluctance  to  death.  He  that  hath  little  to 
expect  from  the  present  life,  must  feel  less  pain  at  the  thought 
of  parting  with  it,  than  another  who  has  an  extravagant  and  in-= 
fcatiable  fondness  for  it.     And  then, 

2.  As  to  the  world  to  come,  the  grace  of  God  forms  him  into  a 
temper  suited  to  it. 

We  are  very  sure  that  the  happiness  of  heaven  must  be  pure 
and  spiritual,  and  of  a  nature  widely  different  from  that  which 
the  generality  of  mankind  covet  and  pursue.  It  must  consist 
in  a  steady  contemplation  of  the  infinite  glories  of  God ;  in  a 
continual  intercourse  with  holy  beings,  on  subjects  the  most 
sublime  and  exalted ;  in  exercises  of  pure  and  sinless  devotion ; 
and  in  unwearied  acts  of  cheerful  and  uniform  obedience.  Now 
the  very  idea  of  this  is  so  far  from  being  agreeable  to  a  carnal 
mind,  that  it  is  highly  disgusting  and  irksome.  And  M-ere  a 
wicked  man  to  be  assured,  that  death  would  certainly  remove 
him  into  such  a  state,  that  assurance,  instead  of  reconciling 
him  to  the  change,  would  rather  make  him  averse  to  it.  He 
wishes  for  that  kind  of  heaven  alone,  which  Mahomet  promises 
his  disciples. 

Of  indispensable  importance  therefore  it  is,  to  the  overcoming 
that  reluctance  to  death,  which  arises  from  this  consideration, 
to  have  the  heart  formed  into  an  aptitude  to  the  business  and 
enjoyments  of  the  other  world.  And  such  is  the  effect  of  the 
influence  and  operation  of  divine  grace  upon  it.  Where  reli- 
gion prevails,  a  preference  will  be  given  to  the  pleasures  result- 
ing from  the  favour  of  God,  and  the  pure  and  spiritual  exercises 
of  the  mind,  to  any  other  whatever.  And  though  the  best  of 
men,  by  reason  of  the  remains  of  imperfection  and  sin  which 
still  cleave  to  them,  will  endure  many  painful  struggles  within, 
and  sometimes  suffer  a  sad  suspension  of  their  noblest  comforts  j 
yet  the  hope  of  being  freed  from  sin,  and  enjoying  such  a 
kind  of  heaven  as  I  have  been  describing,  will  afford  th^m  solid 
satisfaction.  And  it  is  easy  to  see  that  this  being  their  habitual 
temper,  they  are  better  prepared  for  this  great  change  than 

a  Oal.  vi.  14-. 


IN  DEATH.  409 

Other  men.     That  which  the  sinner  would  account  a  great  infe- 
licity, is  in  the  apprehension  of  the  good  man  theliighest  bliss. 

Thus  it  appears  then,  that  the  state  in  which  death  finds  the 
real  Christian,  gives  him  an  advantage  against  most  of  those 
evils,  which  render  the  apprehension  of  it  formidable.  Whence 
the  utility  of  religion  at  this  most  important  juncture  is  clearly 
evinced.     And  now, 

Secondly,  Let  us  take  a  view  of  those  extraordinary  sup- 
ports and  consolations,  which  it  pleases  God  to  afford  some 
Christians  in  their  last  moments.     And  here, 

1.  It  is  remarkable  that  many  persons  do  at  this  time  enjoy 
an  unusual  flow  of  animal  spirits. 

How  this  is,  I  will  not  pretend  to  say;  whether  it  may  be 
accounted  for  on  physical  principles,  or  is  to  be  attributed  to 
the  immediate  influence  of  an  all-wise  and  good  Providence.  It 
is  possible  that  the  violent  struggles  of  nature,  when  the  con- 
stitution is  just  breaking  up,  may  give  an  extraordinary  force 
and  energy  to  the  ^imal  spirits ;  like  a  candle,  which,  when  it 
is  nigh  being  extinguished,  will  suddenly  recover  itself,  and 
shoot  out  its  light  with  unusual  brightness  towards  the  last. 
This  is  very  observable  in  some  disorders ;  and  being  no  other 
than  a  mere  effort  of  nature,  is  common  to  bad  as  well  as  good  men. 
But  the  effect,  in  some  instances,  so  far  exceeds  the  force  of 
any  natural,  apparent  cause,  that  we  may  with  good  reason  im- 
pute it  to  the  particular  favour  of  divine  Providence.  And  this, 
I  doubt  not,  they  who  have  stood  by  the  dying  beds  of  Chris- 
tians have  observed  with  peculiar  pleasure.  Some  of  them,  and 
those  too,  who,  when  in  health,  were  of  a  different  complexion, 
have  happily  enjoyed  a  clearness  of  perception,  a  liveliness  of  im- 
agination, and  a  strength  and  vigour  of  spirits,  which  have  been 
truly  astonishing.  I  say  not  that  this  is  the  case  of  all.  But 
so  it  is  in  some  instances.  And  I  know  no  reason  why  it  should 
not  be  ascribed  to  a  s[>ecial  and  extraordinary  influence  exerted 
upon  the  animal  frame.     But  be  this  as  it  may,  it  is  certain, 

2.  That  their  minds  are  often  composed,  and  their  hearts 
sustained,  by  a  seasonable  reflection  on  the  great  truths  of  re- 
ligion. 

These  are  at  all  times,  if  properly  applied,  the  noblest  cor- 
dials that  can  be  administered  to  the  afflicted  breast :  but  they 


410  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

are  never  so  salutary  as  on  these  occasions,  when  it  is  out  of 
the  power  of  any  worldly  considerations  to  afford  relief.     How 
soft  and  pleasing  that  idea  of  the  blessed  God  which  the  gospel 
suggests,  as  laying  aside  all  the  terrors  of  avenging  justice,  and 
assuming,  for  Christ's  sake,  the  endearing  characters  of  a  friend 
and  parent !   How  enlivening  the  consideration  of  that  everlast- 
ing covenant  he  has  made  with  his  people,  ordered  in  all  things 
and  sure  a!  How  reviving  the  many  exceeding  great  and  pre- 
cious promises  of  his  word,  that  he  will  never  leave  nor  forsake 
them  b  ;  that  when  they  pass  through  the  fire  he  will  be  with 
tliem,  and  through  the  waters  they  shall  not  overflow  them  c ; 
and  that  when  flesh  and  heart  fail  them,  he  will  be  the  strength 
of  their  heart  and  their  portion  for  ever  d  !  How  soothing,  in 
a  word,  the  reflection,  that,   as  the  children  were  partakers  of 
flesh  and  blood,  the  Son  of  God  also  took  part  of  the  same  e  ; 
that  he  has  borne  their  griefs  and  carried  their  sorrows  f;  that 
he  has  redeemed  them  from  the  curse  g  of  alHhose  evils  they  en- 
dure ;  that  he  has,  by  dying,  destroyed  him  that  had  the  power 
of  death  h ;  that  he  is  now  touched  with  tJte  feeling  of  their  in- 
flrmities  i ;  and  that  he  lives  to  take  care  of  them  in  the  hour 
of  death,   and  by  his  own   kind  hand  to  conduct  them   safe  to 
mansions  of  eternal  glory  !   These  truths  are  evidently  adapted 
to  compose  the  mind,  to  reconcile  it  to  the  will  of  God,  and  to 
inspire  it  with  resolution. 

Sickness  indeed,  is  not  a  time  for  close  and  fixed  meditation. 
The  thoughts  are  usually  broken  and  confused,  and  the  atten- 
tion disturbed  and  interrupted.  Yet  a  glance  only  at  these  mat- 
ters hath  a  happy  and  salutary  effect  to  hold  up  the  sinking 
Christian  from  despair,  and  keep  him  steady  amidst  the  storms 
of  his  approaching  dissolution.  God  is  pleased  likewise  to 
strengthen  his  mind  for  such  reflections,  to  impress  them  with 
power  on  his  heart,  and  to  make  them  effectual  to  the  purposes 
just  mentioned.  So  that  as  the  outward  man  decays,  the  in- 
ward is  renewed  day  by  day.  What  serenity  have  the  coun- 
tenances of  some  timorous  Christians  assumed,  whilst  their 
friends  have  been  reminding  them  of  these  truths  !    How  have 

a  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5.  b  Heb.  xiii.  5.  c  Isa.  xliii.  2. 

rf  Psal.  Ixxiii.  26.  e  Hel).  ii.  14..  /Isa.  liii.  4. 

g  Gal.  lit.  13.  h  Heb.  ii.  li.  i  Chap.  iv.  15. 


I 


IN  DEATH.  411 

their  pains  been  soothed  by  these  plcarant  sounds  !  And  how 
have  they  expressed,  though  with  faultering  lips,  the  inward  sa- 
tisfaction and  composure  they  have  felt ! — "  The  foundation  of 
God  standeth  sure — He  is  faithful  that  hath  promised — I  have 
cast  anchor  on  his  truth  and  goodness — There  1  leave  myself — 
I  hope,  I  trust  all  is  well."  But  it  is  the  happiness  of  some  of 
them, 

3.  To  enjoy  at  this  critical  season  an  assurance  of  faith. 

They  are  not  only  well  satisfied  of  the  grounds  on  which 
their  future  expectations  are  built,  and  have  a  good  hope  through 
grace,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it  a  ;  but  they  are  relieved  of  all 
their  doubts,  and  possess  a  firm  persuasion  of  their  everlasting 
felicity.  Fear  and  dread  fall  upon  their  enemies,  as  Moses  says 
of  the  Canaanites;  they  are  still  as  a  stone,  till  thy  people  pass 
over,  thy  people,  O  Lord,  whom  thou  hast  purchased  b.  The 
conflicts  which  they  before  endured  are  now  at  an  end.  The 
grand  question  is  decided.  They  know  whom  they  have  believed, 
and  are  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to  keep  what  they  have  com- 
mitted to  him  against  that  day  c.  They  are  sealed  with  the 
Spirit  of  promise  d,  and  are  waiting  for  their  dismission  hence 
to  glory. 

O  how  fair  the  appearance  religion  now  assumes  !  How  at- 
tractive the  charms  it  now  wears  !  Who  can  behold  the  dying 
Christian  in  this  temper,  without  envying  him  of  the  pleasure 
he  feels  ?  His  joys  it  may  be  are  not  ecstatic  and  triumphant ; 
yet  he  is  more  than  composed,  for  he  is  cheerful ;  more  than 
peaceful,  for  he  is  happy.  He  possesses  himself.  And  smiling 
upon  his  friends,  instead  of  waiting  to  receive  consolation  from 
tliem,  he  becomes  their  instructor  and  comforter.  How  calm 
his  reasonings  !  How  pleasing  his  reflections  !  How  gentle  and 
persuasive  his  admonitions  !  From  him  then  let  us  now  learn 
what  it  is  to  die,  and  what  is  the  use  of  religion  in  death — 
"  Life,  with  all  its  pleasant  scenes,  says  he,  is  passing  away ;  but 
I  regret  not  its  loss.  I  have  long  since  pronounced  vanity  on  the 
world  :  more  substantial  bliss  I  have  in  prospect — Afilicted  I  am  ; 
yet  my  affliction  is  light  and  momentary,  less,  far  less  than  I  have 
deserved.     It  is  the  will  of  my  heavenly  Father,  and  I  submit 

a  2  Thcss.  ii.  16.  b  Exod.  xv.  16. 

c  2  Tim.  i.  12.  .rf  Eph.  1.  13, 


.418  THE  USE  OF  RELIGION 

to  it.  He  makes  my  jnllow  easy,  and  why  should  I  murmur? 
< — Death  I  see  approaching;  but  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  My 
sins,  which  I  have  felt  and  bewailed,  the  blood  of  Christ  hath 
done  away;  and  being  reconciled  by  his  death,  how  much  more 
shall  I  be  saved  by  his  life  !  O  how  precious  is  Christ  now  to 
my  soul !  How  reviving  the  hope  of  dwelling  for  ever  with  him  ! 
— With  you,  my  friends,  I  must  quickly  part;  but  I  have  a  bet- 
ter company  to  join. — I  commit  you  into  the  hands  of  a  good 
God,  and  hope  to  meet  you  again — O  make  him  your  trust,  and 
he  will  never  forsake  you." — Happy  man  !  Who  would  not  be 
glad,  in  this  temper  of  mind,  to  make  his  exit  hence  ? — And  yet 
a  higher  degree  of  happiness  still  is  the  exalted  privilege  of  some 
few  holy  men  of  God;  for  there  are  those, 

4.   Who  pass  o    the  stage  of  life  triumphantly. 

To  composure  succeeds  cheerfulness ;  to  cheerfulness  assu- 
rance ;  and  to  assurance  an  ecstasy  of  divine  joy — an  elevation 
of  the  mind  to  God,  that  is  truly  noble  and  astonishing,  and  yet 
widely  different  from  the  unmeaning  raptures  of  imagination  and 
enthusiasm.  It  is  the  genuine  effect,  not  of  an  artificial  ma^ 
nagement  of  the  passions,  but  of  a  deep  and  lively  impression  of 
eterr.al  things  upon  the  heart.  It  is  a  kind  of  exultation  that, 
instead  of  weakening  or  obstructing  the  powers  of  reason,  refines 
and  improves  them.  For  the  same  heavenly  ray  that  warms, 
enlightens ;  beams  upon  the  understanding,  while  it  enkindles 
llie  affections. — O  with  what  refulgent  splendour  do  the  glories 
of  the  other  world  now  dart  upon  the  whole  soul,  and  light  it 
into  one  bright  and  inextinguishable  flame  !  How  doth  the 
countenance  of  the  transfigured  Christian,  if  I  may  so  describe 
him,  resemble  that  of  an  angel  of  God,  while  like  Stephen  he 
sees  the  glory  of  God,  and  Jesus  standing  at  his  right  hand  i 
and  while  like  Elijah  his  immortal  spirit  ascends  to  heaven  in  a 
chariot  of  celestial  fire  !  All  thoughts  about  the  present  world, 
all  dread  of  death,  yea  his  very  pains,  are  absorbed  and  swallow- 
ed up  in  that  sense  he  feels  of  the  love  of  God,  and  in  tJiose 
transporting  perceptions  of  approaching  bliss  which  overwhelm 
his  heart.  He  is  just  setting  foot  on  the  shore  of  Canaan — at 
the  very  suburbs  of  heaven — stretching  out  the  hand  to  seize  the 
crown.  His  imprisoned  spirit,  impatient  of  confinement,  is  ready 
to  burst  the  shell,  and  to  force  its  passage  out  of  this  tenement 


IN  DEATir.  4IS 

of  clay.  He  can  scarce  contain  himself.  His  joy  is  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory.  Now  with  the  great  apostle  he  sings, 
— '  O  death,  where  is  thy  sting?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory? 
The  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law. 
But  thanks  be  to  Gotl,  who  giveth  irie  the  victory  through  Je- 
sus Christ  my  Lord  «.'  Now  with  Job  he  exults, — '  O  that 
my  words  were  written  in  a  book  !  that  they  were  graven  with 
an  iron  pen  and  lead  in  the  rock  for  ever  !  For  I  know  that  my 
Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  on  the 
earth.  And  though  after  my  skin,  worms  destroy  this  body; 
yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God  Z>.' — I  now  see  him — It  is  enoughs 
Thus  led  by  the  hand  of  the  good  Shepherd,  and  thus  comfort- 
ed with  his  rod  and  his  staff,  he  passes  joyfully  the  dark  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death ;  and  even  before  he  gets  through  it, 
joins  the  angelic  throng  who  wait  his  arrival,  in  the  new  and 
triumphant  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. — And  now, 

IIL  What  improvement  is  to  be  made  of  these  things? 
Why, 

\.  From  the  terrors  of  death,  as  you  have  heard  them  de- 
scribed, we  may  take  our  measures  of  sin.  God  is  unquestion- 
ably most, wise  and  good.  And  death  is,  in  the  apprehension 
both  of  nature  and  conscience,  a  very  great  evil.  Mankind  must 
therefore  have  offended  God  in  a  very  high  degree,  or  he  would 
not  have  inflicted  so  ignominious  and  bitter  a  curse  upon  them» 
Go,  ye  who  make  a  mock  of  sin,  see  the  king  of  terrors  wreak- 
ing his  resentments  on  the  impenitent  and  ungodly,  and  then 
say.  Whether  that_ which  gives  the  last  enemy  so  ghastly  a  coun- 
tenance, and  arms  him  with  such  sharp  and  poisonous  darts,  is 
not  of  all  evils  the  greatest  ?  O  if  men  did  but  seriously  listen 
to  the  great  truths  which  this  last  solemn  event  teaches,  they 
would  not,  they  could  not  think  so  lightly  of  sin,  much  less  so 
greedily  commit  it,  as  they  commonly  do  ! 

2.  How  infinitely  are  we  indebted  to  the  blessed  God,  for 
that  glorious  deliverance  from  the  terrors  of  death  and  its  tre- 
mendous consequences,  which  the  gospel  so  mercifully  proposes  ! 
Death  had  made  an  eternal  sacrifice  of  every  individual  of  the 
human  species  to  the  just  resentments  of  Heaven,  had  not  the 
Sou  of  God  interposed,  and  by  dying  satisfied  the  demands  of 
a  1  Cor.  XV.  56,  57.  b  Job  xix.  23— 2G. 


414  TirE  USE  OF  UELiGION,  &C. 

justice,  and  destroyed  him  tliat  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is, 
the  devil.  O  amazing  love  of  the  Father,  tliat  he  should  not 
spare  his  own  Son,  but  freely  give  him  up  for  our  sakes  !  And 
O  amazing  love  of  Christ,  that  he  should  taste  death,  in  all  the 
bitterness  of  it,  to  provide  for  our  support  and  comfort  in  these 
trying  moments  !  What  gratitude,  as  well  as  joy,  should  inspire 
out  hearts,  while  we  reflect  thus  on  the  infinite  expeuce  at 
which  we  are  saved  from  the  curse  of  this  the  greatest  of  na- 
tural evils,  and  in  the  prospect  of  which  the  stoutest  heart 
trembles  ! 

3.  What  an  inestimable  blessing  is  true  religion  !  It  is  the 
only  thing  that  will  stand  us  in  stead  in  the  hour  of  death.  Nei- 
ther wealth,  nor  power,  nor  greatness,  nor  friends,  will  be  of  any 
avail  then.  Men  may  despise  it  when  they  are  in  health  and 
strength,  and  in  the  midst  of  affluence  and  pleasure ;  but  where 
is  the  wretch  that  dares  lauffh  at  it  in  the  immediate  views  of 
eternity  ? — Ah  !  no.  They  then  think  otherwise.  Had  they 
millions  of  worlds,  they  would  part  with  them  all,  to  obtain  the 
comforts  and  hopes  I  have  been  just  now  describing.  How  de- 
sirable then  is  an  interest  in  Christ !  He  alone  can  save  an  im- 
mortal soul  from  the  miseries  of  the  second  death,  and  give  it 
an  admission  into  the  realms  of  light  and  glory  above.  O  may 
this  therefore  be  the  grand  object  of  our  concern,  and  may  every 
thing  else  be  held  in  sovereign  contempt,  when  compared  with 
this,  the  greatest  good  !    In  one  word, 

4.  If  there  are  such  supports  provided  for  the  dying  Chris- 
tian, and  such  bright  prospects  beyond  the  grave  ;  then  let  the 
faith  of  these  things  have  its  suitable  effect  on  our  temper  and 
conduct — to  moderate  our  affections  to  the  world — to  reconcile 
us  to  our  afflictions — to  infuse  sweetness  into  our  enjoyments — 
and  to  subdue  in  us  the  fear  of  death.  The  Lord  is  your 
Shepherd^  Christian,  you  shall  not  want.  He  will  take  care  of 
you  all  the  days  of  your  pilgrimage  on  earth.  He  will  sustain 
you  with  his  rod  and  staff  in  the  valley  of  the  shadoiv  of  death. 
And  he  will  at  length  give  you  a  joyful  entrance  into  the  hea- 
venly world,  where  you  shall  dwell  in  his  house  for  ever. 


DISCOURSE  XVII. 


THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION  OF  RELIGION 
IN  HEAVEN. 

Rom.  VI.  22. The  end  everlasting  life. 

XT  hath  ever  been  the  perverse  language  of  the  men  of  this 
world,  "What  is  the  Ahnighty  that  we  should  serve  him? 
and  what  profit  shall  we  have  if  we  pray  to  him  ?"  A  kind 
of  expostulation  which  argues  as  great  a  degree  of  ignorance 
and  folly,  as  of  impiety  and  profanencss.  What  profit? — There 
is  great  profit  in  serving  God.  Thousands  in  every  age  have 
borne  this  honourable  testimony  to  real  religion.  A  mighty 
prince,  and  the  wisest  too  that  ever  swayed  an  earthly  sceptre, 
hath  told  us  that  the  ways  of  wisdom  are  pleasantness,  and  all 
her  paths  are  peace  a.  And  the  great  apostle  of  Christ,  whose 
testimony  is  unquestionable,  hath  assui'ed  us  that  godliness  is 
prof  table  unto  all  things,  having  a  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is  b.  But,  admitting  that  it  were  in  some  respects  otherwise — - 
admitting  that  the  path  in  which  the  Christian  is  led,  were  dark, 
rough  and  intricate,  and  that  temptations,  dangers  and  sorrows 
'awaited  him  all  his  way  through  this  wilderness  ;  yet  still  the 
profit  is  great,  inconceivably  great :  for  the  end  is  everlast- 
ing LIFE. 

Such  you  see  is  the  language  of  the  text.  And  the  argument 
receives  no  small  additional  force  from  the  very  striking  light 
in  which  the  apostle  hath  placed  it ;  I  mean  the  contrast  he 
forms  between  the  characters  and  future  condition  of  the  righ- 
teous on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  wicked  on  the  other.  He 
had  been  reasoning  with  the  Christians  at  Rome  upon  their  ob- 
ligations to  obedience.  And  in  order  to  fix  these  impressions 
the  deeper  in  their  hearts,  he  reminds  them  of  the  miserable 
state  they  were  in,  while  under  the  power  of  sin  and  unbelief; 
and  then  opposes  to  that  state  their  present  happy  condition, 
a  Prov.  iii.  17.  6  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 


416  THE  F'lNAL  CONSUMMATION 

and  their  future  glorious  prospects.  *  What  fruit  had  ye  thea 
in  those  things,  whereof  ye  are  now  ashamed  ?  for  the  end  of 
those  things  is  death.  But  now  being  made  free  from  sin,  and 
become  serrants  to  God,  ye  have  your  fruit  unto  holiness,  and 
the  end  everlasting  life.' 

And  thus  may  the  very  same  question  be  retorted  upon  the 
men  of  vice  and  sin,  which  as  we  have  observed,  they  are  so 
prone  to  put  to  the  Christian — What  profit  have  you  in  serving 
Satan,  and  the  lusts  of  your  own  hearts?  You  will  say  perhaps 
in  the  language  your  master  tvould  have  once  put  into  the  mouth 
of  Job,  "  Think  you  we  serve  him  for  naught  ?" — No.  We 
don't  think  you  serve  him  for  naught.  You  have  your  reward, 
such  as  it  is  !  even  the  poor  pittance  of  some  little  transient  sen- 
sual pleasure,  which  fails  not  to  bring  after  it  either  sooner  or 
later  shame  and  misery.  The  wages  of  sin  is  death  a.  But 
as  to  the  man  of  religion,  though  he  may  be  exposed  to  some 
present  outward  inconveniencies  ;  yet,  having  his  fruit  unto  ho- 
liness, he  even  now  participates  the  joys  of  faith,  and  in  the  end 
shall  possess  eternal  life. 

By  eternal  life  is  meant  the  happy  condition  of  good  men  in 
the  world  to  come.  It  is  expressive  of  their  existence  after 
death,  of  the  perfection  to  which  their  nature  shall  attain,  and  of 
the  uninterrupted  felicity  they  shall  enjoy  to  all  eternity.  How 
well  the  phrase  is  adapted  to  convey  each  of  these  ideas,  and 
with  what  propriety  therefore  it  is  so  frequently  used  in  Scrip- 
ture to  describe  the  heavenly  state,  I  hardly  need  observe.  Now* 
the  text  tells  us  that  the  end  is  eternal  life ;  a  mode  of  expres- 
sion which  may, 

1.  Point  out  the  term  at  which  the  future  happiness  of  the 
Christian  shall  commence,  even  the  close  or  period  of  the  pre- 
sent life.  When  this  life  ends  that  shall  begin.  To  the  short 
winter  day  we  spend  here  on  earth,  shall  immediately  succeed 
one  long  never-ending  age  of  bliss  and  glory  in  heaven. 

Some  there  are  who  defer  the  happiness  of  the  saints  to  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection,  and  suppose  the  soul  sleeps  with 
the  body  till  tl:at  time.  A  notion  this  which,  methinks,  can- 
not fail  of  casting  a  gloom  over  the  minds  of  good  men,  on 
the  one  hand,  who  must  needs  wish  to  remain  in  possession 

n  Vcr.  23. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  417 

ot"  themselves  after  death  ;  and  of  afFordhig  pleasure  to  the  wick* 
ed,  oil  the  other,  who  would  gladly  get  rid,  though  it  were  hut 
for  a  time,  of  the  painful  reflections  and  fears  which  their  guilt 
excites.  This  ohjection  may,  indeed,  seem  to  he  removed  by 
the  consideration,  that  the  two  points  of  the  soul's  falling  asleep 
and  awakening  must  to  its  own  apprehension  be  united,  there 
being  in  this  case  no  consciousness  during  the  intervening  space. 
But  {not  to  sav  how  few  there  are  upon  whom  such  a  refinement 
will  be  likely  to  have  any  effect)  it  is  farther  to  be  objected  to 
this  notion,  that  if  the  soul  may  sleep  for  a  hundred  or  a  thou- 
sand years,  it  may,  for  aught  there  is  in  the  soul  itself,  sleep 
for  ever :  and  so  all  the  arguments  in  favour  of  a  future  state^ 
arising  from  the  natural  immortality  of  the  soul,  are  entirely  de- 
stroyed. The  definition  however  of  the  soul,  as  being  an  ac- 
tive, conscious  principle,  and  of  a  nature  perfectly  remote  from 
matter,  seems  to  me  the  most  just  and  accurate  that  can  be 
given  of  it.  And  if  that  be  admitted,  I  do  not  see  how  the 
idea  of  its  sleeping,  or  ceasing  to  think  and  act,  can  be  recon- 
ciled to  it. — But  it  is  by  Scripture  that  our  faith  as  Christians 
must  be  regulated;  and  I  cannot  perceive  any  real  ground  in 
that  sacred  book  for  this  unpleasing  notion.  On  the  contrary^ 
our  Saviour  evidently  takes  the  doctrine  of  a  separate  state  for 
granted  in  the  parable  of  Dives  and  Lazarus  a.  He  clearly  as- 
serts it  in  his  words  to  the  penitent  thief  on  the  cross,  To-day 
shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise  b.  And  as  the  apostle's  de- 
claring, that  he  judged  it  far  better  for  him  to  be  with  Christ 
than  to  continue  here,  supposes  it  c  ;  so  the  same  apostle  else- 
vphere  expressly  speaks  of  being  absent  from  the  body,  and  pre- 
sent with  the  L,ord  d.  Nor  is  there  any  intimation  given  us  in 
Scripture,  as  I  remember,  that  a  separate  state  of  existence  is  a 
privilege  peculiar  to  the  apostles.  It  follows  therefore  that  the 
end  of  the  present  life,  is  to  the  Christian  the  term  at  which 
his  future  happiness  will  commence.     Again, 

2.  The  phrase  may  be  designed  to  intimate  yet  farther,  that 
the  happiness  which  the  saints  enjoy  in  heaven,  is  the  perfection 
of  what  they  in  a  degree  attain  to  here  on  earth.  And  so  this 
future  eternal  life  is  to  be  considered,  not  only  in  opposition  to 

a  Luke  xvi.  19. — ult.  6  Luke  xxiii.  43. 

e  Phil.  i.  23.  d  2  Cor.  v.  8. 

yoL,  I.  D  d 


418  THE  FINAL  GO^'SUM.MATION 

their  existence  here,  but  likewise  in  reference  ta  that  divine 
life  which  is  here  begun  in  their  hearts.  The  apostle  had  been 
speaking  of  their  having  their  fruit  unto  holiness;  and  so  very 
properly  adds,  that  the  end,  or  the  final  completion  of  this  life  of 
holiness  an  earth,  will  be  eternal  life  in  heaven. 

When  men  are  converted  and  become  truly  religious,  they 
are  represented  in  Scripture  as  being  quickened  or  made  alive 
by  the  grace  of  God  a.  They  have  eternal  life,  that  is,  the 
seeds,  the  beginning,  the  dawn  of  eternal  life  in  them  b.  And 
when  they  are  removed  hence,  these  principles  or  habits  of  grace 
T/hich  were  thus  generated  in  their  hearts  here,  are  ripened,  ma- 
tured and  brought  to  their  utmost  perfection.  Now  this  de- 
scription of  heaven  furnishes  us  with  perhaps  the  most  clear  and 
just  conceptions  of  the  happiness  of  it,  that  are  attainable  in  the 
present  life.  For  we  need  only  recur  to  what  true  religion  is, 
and  having  divested  it  of  the  error,  weakness  and  imperfection 
which  at  present  attend  it,  we  at  once  get  a  bright  and  pleasing 
idea,  though  still  but  a  partial  one,  of  what  the  bliss  and  glory 
of  that  world  really  is.  It  is  the  knowledge  of  the  blessed 
God,  and  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  its  most  improved  and 
perfect  state ;  a  knowledge  which,  even  now,  sometimes  enter- 
tains, surprises  and  animates  the  Christian.  It  is  the  consum- 
mation of  those  divine  virtues  and  graces  which,  even  art  present, 
adorn  the  good  man,  and  render  him  in  a  degree  happy  and  use- 
ful. There  he  will  actually  be,  what  he  here  sincerely  aims 
and  ardently  wishes  to  be.  Fix  your  eyes.  Sirs,  upon  the  man 
who  is  best  skilled  in  divine  knowledge :  in  him  you  see  the 
early  dawn  of  that  light  which  irradiates  the  minds  of  the  bless- 
ed above.  Mark  the  countenance,  the  temper,  the  deportment 
of  the  Christian,  who  excels  in  meekness,  humility,  love  and 
obedience;  in  him  you  see  the  lineaments,  the  features,  the  dis- 
tant resemblance  of  those  who  are  grown  up  to  the  stature  of 
men  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  are  now  of  age,  and  are  entered  upon 
the  possession  of  that  inheritance  of  which  they  were  the  other 
day,  the  heirs  and  expectants  only.  The  end  is  eternal  life — 
the  perfection  of  real  genuine  religion,  the  highest  improvement 
of  virtue,  the  final  consummation  of  grace. — Once  more, 

a  Eph.  ii.  5>  h\  John  iii.  15. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  419 

3.  Eternal  life  is  the  end  of  holiness  as  it  is  the  reward  of  it. 
They  who  have  their  fruit  unto  holiness  shall  assuredly  receive 
this  recompence  at  the  hand  of  divine  mercy.  Not  that  there 
can  be  any  merit  in  the  obedience  of  a  creature,  restored  as  he 
is  from  a  state  of  guilt  and  apostacy  to  the  favour  and  love  of 
God.  They  who  never  sinned  have  yet  no  demand  to  make 
upon  their  Creator,  but,  on  the  contrary,  most  humbly  acknow- 
ledge, that  all  tl.'ey  enjoy  they  owe  to  his  goodness.  Much 
less  hath  the  holiness  of  a  Christian,  defective  and  polluted  as 
it  is,  the  least  pretension  to  merit.  '  If  thou.  Lord,  shouldst 
mark  iniquities,'  says  the  psalmist,  '  O  Lord,  who  shall  stand  a?* 
and  our  Saviour  requires  us,  when  we  have  done  all  those  things 
we  were  commanded,  to  say,  '  We  are  unprofitable  servants : 
we  have  done  that  which  was  our  duty  to  do  6,'  And  such  will 
be,  such  is  the  temper  of  every  real  disciple  of  Jesus.  Whilst, 
therefore,  the  apostle,  in  the  verse  immediately  following  the 
text,  speaks  of  death  as  the  wages  of  sin,  he  represents  eternal 
life  as  the  gift  of  God ;  and  as  the  gift  of  God,  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord,  he  having  not  only  by  his  ministry  brought 
life  and  immortality  to  light,  but  by  his  obedience  and  death 
expiated  our  offences,  and  reconciled  us  to  God.  So  that  the 
divine  justice  is  secured  from  all  imputation  of  partiality,  while 
mercy  triumphs  in  bestowing  heaven  on  those  who  had  violated 
the  laws  of  their  Creator.  And  yet  the  blessedness  of  the  fu- 
ture state  is  often  spoken  of  in  Scripture  under  the  notion  of  a 
reward.  The  reasons  of  which  may  be — because,  though  it  is 
the  reward  of  grace,  it  is  promised  to  them,  and  to  them  only, 
who  have  their  fruit  unto  holiness — because  men  will  be  dealt 
with  at  the  last  judgment  according  to  their  real  characters,  that 
is,  the  wicked  will  be  condemned,  and  the  righteous  will  be  ac- 
quitted, the  merit  of  their  salvation  being  at  the  same  time  re- 
ferred to  the  mediation  of  Christ  alone — because,  farther,  there 
will  be  degrees  of  happiness  dispensed  to  Christians,  according 
to  their  various  capacities  and  services,  as  seems  plain  from  many 
passages  of  Scripture — and,  in  a  word,  the  matter  is  so  repre- 
sented, to  animate  us  to  diligence  and  perseverance  in  our  course 
ef  duty  and  suffering, 

ff  P»al.  cxxx.  3.  b  Luke  xvii.  10, 

Dd2 


420  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

And  now,  having  explained  the  text  with  as  much  brevity  as 
I  well  could,  we  proceed  to  discourse  more  particularly  of  that 
ETERNAL  LIFE  which  is  the  end  of  the  happy  experience  and 
practice  of  true  religion;  and  which  he  shall  most  certainly  en- 
joy, who  being  made  free  from  sin,  becomes  a  servant  to  God, 
and  hath  \\\s  fruit  unto  holiness.     And  here  I  shall, 

I.  Lay  before  you  the  evidence  we  have  of  a  future  state  of 
happiness ; 

II.  Attempt  some  description  of  that  state;  and, 

III.  Make  a  suitable  improvement  of  this  very  important  and 
animating  subject. 

I.  Let  us  begin  with  the  evidence  of  a  future  state  of  hap- 
piness. 

So  generally  does  the  doctrine  of  rewards  and  punishments 
after  death  obtain  in  the  world,  that  an  enquiry  into  the  grounds 
of  it  may,  at  first  view,  seem  unnecessary.  But  whoever  con- 
siders that  there  are  some  few  v/ho  deny  this  great  doctrine,  or, 
however,  do  their  utmost  to  persuade  themselves,  that  it  hath 
no  other  foundation  than  in  mere  fancy  and  superstition ;  that 
the  greater  part  of  mankind  take  the  question  for  granted, 
without  entering  seriously  into  the  merits  of  it;  and  that  those 
who  hold  it  upon  the  fullest  and  clearest  evidence  of  reason  and 
conscience,  and  most  sincerely  wish  there  may  be  a  future  state, 
are  yet  sometimes  afflicted  with  doubts  concerning  it :  whoever, 
I  say,  considers  these  things,  and  reflects  likewise  on  the  infi- 
nite importance  of  the  mattx^r,  and  on  the  thick  and  impenetrable 
darkness  which  Providence  hath  cast  over  the  world  to  come,  so 
that  we  can  converse  with  it  by  faith  only ;  ho  must  see  the 
utility  of  calling  up  to  our  view,  for  a  few  moments,  some  of 
the  main  arguments,  both  natural  and  revealed,  in  favour  of 
tliis  one  of  the  first  principles  of  religion.     Now, 

1.  The  possibility  of  a  future  state  of  existence  will  be  ac- 
knowledged on  all  hands.  The  idea  does  not  involve  in  it  a 
contradiction,  absurdity,  or  impossibility.  There  is  no  one 
principle  of  nature,  or  dictate  of  reason,  that  is  shocked  or  sur- 
prised at  the  thought.  Nay,  admitting  that  there  is  a  God,  it 
follows  that  he  who  gave  the  conscious  spirit  existence,  can 
easily  continue  it  in  existence,  even  after  its  connection  with 
the  present  state  ceases ;  and  that  he  who  created  this  world. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  -  421 

which  furnishes  such  stupendous  proofs  of  ahnighty  power,  can 
be  at  no  loss  to  make  provision  in  another,  for  the  rewarding 
his  friends,  and  punishing  his  enemies.     But, 

2.  There  is  a  high  probability  of  such  a  state,  as  appears 
from  many  considerations  obvious  to  the  perceptions  and  reason- 
ings of  every  man. 

We*iiave  each  of  us  a  power  of  thinking,  reflecting,  willing 
and  performing  various  acts,  wherein  our  business,  happiness 
and  importance  as  intelligent  creatures  consist.  This  active 
conscious  principle  we  call  the  soul.  It  hath  its  seat  at  present 
in  the  body ;  though  it  is  evidently  of  a  nature  very  different 
from  the  body,  and  hath  no  symptoms  or  appearances  attending 
it,  which  foretel  its  passing  under  such  changes  as  are  common 
to  matter.  The  entire  extinction  of  thought,  will,  and  con- 
sciousness, or  in  other  words  the  annihilation  of  the  soul,  is  an 
unnatural  idea,  and  gives  pain  to  every  mind  except  his  whose 
guilt  excites  a  dread  of  something  worse  than  a  privation  of  ex- 
istence. Nay,  there  is  in  all  mankind  an  eager  appetite  or  de- 
sire of  immortality.  And  one  should  hardly  suppose  that  he 
who  made  us  would  infuse  such  a  propensity  into  our  nature, 
without  any  intention  to  gratify  it. 

It  is  a  fact  likewise,  that  this  notion  of  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  hath  generally  obtained  in  the  world  a.  The  heathens 
had  an  idea  of  it,  some  of  them  firmly  believing  it,  others  amidst 
all  their  doubts  earnestly  wishing  it  might  prove  true,  and  the 
rest,  few  if  any  of  them,  absolutely  denying  it.  Now  the  gene- 
ral prevalence  of  this  doctrine  is  noi  easily  to  be  accounted  for, 
without  allowing  that  it  hath  some  foundation  in  truth  and  rea- 
son.  Admitting  however  that  the  notion  first  sprung  from  mere 
fancy  and  imagination,  that  it  was  quickly  adopted  and  improved 
by  artful  men  to  answer  secular  and  political  purposes,  and  that 
so  it  became  universal;  yet  it  should  seem  strange,  that  an  in- 
finitely wise  and  good  God  should  in  no  age  interpose  his  autho- 
rity, to  undeceive  men  upon  a  point  of  so  interesting  a  nature. 

To  which  it  should  be  added,  that  if  the  history  of  man  is 
confined  to  the  present  life,  and  hath  no  connection  with  a  fu- 
ture ;  the  ways  of  Providence,  in  general,  are  enveloped  in  im- 

a  I  Permanere  animos  arbitramur  consenfu  nationum  omniani,  &c. 
Crc.  Tusc.  Quccst.  lib.  1. 


422  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

penetrable  darkness  and  mystery,  and  we  are  deprived,  in  a  great 
many  particular  instances,  of"  the  only  means  of  defending  the 
wisdom  and  justice  of  God  from  the  imputation  of  weakness  and 
partiality. — As  to  the  general  conduct  of  Providence :  There  is 
an  amazing  exertion  of  power  in  the  building,  adorning  and 
supporting  the  curious  fabric  of  this  world.  But  how  strange  ! 
that  the  blessed  God  should  be  at  so  prodigious  an  expence,  if 
his  only  object  were  to  provide  for  the  entertainment  of  a  suc- 
cession of  short-lived  creatures,  who,  when  tliey  die,  should 
cease  to  exist  o,  and  whose  characters  and  actions  should  have 
no  reference  to  a  future  state.  No  one  can  examine  carefully 
the  history  of  the  world,  without  being  struck  with  surprise  at 
the  various  stupendous  events  and  revolutions  which  have  taken 
place  in  it,  and  without  acknowledging,  methinks,  that  they 
must  have  come  to  pass  by  the  permission  and  influence  of  di- 
vine Providence.  But  what  shall  we  think  of  the  wisdom  of 
God,  or  of  his  other  attributes,  if  we  will  not  admit  that  these 
events  bear  a  relation  to  one  grand  plan,  which,  when  completed, 
shall  be  exhibited  to  the  view  of  the  whole  intelligent  creation, 
and  especially  to  them  who  have  been  the  instruments  employed 
to  carry  it  into  execution  ? 

And  then,  as  to  individuals.  It  is  a  fact,  which  they  who 
believe  and  who  do  not  believe  the  Bible  must  acknowledge, 
that  there  are  some  righteous,  and  some  wicked  men,  some  com- 
paratively good,  and  some  bad,  some  who  have  the  fear  of  God 
before  their  eyes,  and  some  who  riot  in  wantonness  and  sin. 
And  it  is  also  as  evident,  that  the  blessings  of  Providence  are 
promiscuously  dispensed  among  mankind ;  nay,  that  the  wicked 
often  prosper,  while  the  virtuous  are  oppressed  and  afflicted. 
Now,  how  natural  is  it  to  conclude  from  hence,  that  there  is  an- 
other state  of  existence  wherein  all  these  matters  shall  be  ex- 
plained, and  both  the  justice  and  goodness  of  God  vindicated 
and  honoured?  and  however  it  may  be  thought  by  some,  that 
there  is  a  more  equal  distribution  of  happiness  among  mankind 
in  the  present  life  than  is  commonly  apprehended ;  yet  even  in 

•  Si  sine  causa  gignimur ;  si  in  hominibus  procreandis  provitlentia  nulla  v*r- 
satur,  si  casu  nobismetipsis  at;  voluptatis  nostrse  gratia  nasciinur;  si  nihil  post 
■wjortem  sumus :  quid  potest  esse  tani  super  vacuum,  tam  inane,  tam  vanum, 
i^nam  bumana  res  est,  quam  luimdus  ipw  ?     Lactant,  lib.  7, 


OF  RELIGION  iN  HEAVEN.  423 

this  case  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  it  is  the  hopes  ancl  com- 
forts of  rehgion  which  have  the  chief  influence  in  bringing  mat- 
ters to  a  balance.  And  it  should  seem  strange  indeed,  that 
that  which  gives  rise  to  the  mosrt  rational  and  desirable  joys  of 
the  present  life,  should  in  the  end  prove  no  other  than  a  decep- 
tion. 

Thus  probable  is  it,  upon  the  principles  of  reason  and  present 
appearances,  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  and  that  there  is  a  future 
state  of  rewards  and  punishments.  But  not  to  rest  the  matter 
here,  there  are, 

3.  Such  farther  grounds  for  our  belief  of  these  important 
truths,  as  amount  to  a  certainty.  For,  if  God  hath  given  us  a 
positive  revelation  from  heaven  to  assure  us  of  another  state, 
and  if  that  revelation  is  authenticated  by  such  proof  as  cannot 
be  rejected  without  manifest  absurdity ;  the  grand  question  we 
are  here  considerhig  is  put  beyond  all  possible  doubt.  Well ; 
such  revelation  God  has  given  us,  and  is  contained  in  the  scrip- 
tures of  the  Old  and  New  Testament. 

As  to  the  Old  Testament,  though  it  does  not  treat  so  largely 
of  this  doctrine  as  the  New ;  yet  whoever  attentively  reads 
over  that  part  of  divine  writ,  and  considers  the  explanation  which 
Christ  and  his  apostles  give  us  of  some  passages  in  it  which 
might  otherwise  seem  obscure,  will  I  think  acknowledge  that 
a  future  state  was  known  and  believed  in  the  earliest  ages  of 
-the  world,  and  that  the  light  gradually  increased  as  the  times 
of  the  gospel  approached.  Not  to  mention  those  texts  which 
speak  of  the  future  condition  of  the  wicked,  and  the  judgment 
that  shall  pass  upon  them  ;  let  me  recite  a  few  scriptures  among 
many  which  tell  us  of  the  happiness  prepared  for  good  men,  and 
which  is  the  principal  object  of  this  discourse.  Enoch  walked 
with  Godf  and  he  was  not ;  for  God  took  him — translated  him 
to  another  world,  where  he  should  enjoy  the  rewards  promised 
to  those  who  please  God  in  this  a.  The  patriarchs  in  after  ages, 
if  we  will  believe  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews,  desired  a  better 
tountry  than  that  they  possessed  here  on  earth,  even  an  heavenly ; 
and  looked  for  a  city  which  hath  foundations^  whose  builder  and 
maker  is  God  b.  Job  knew  that  his  Redeemer  lived,  and  that 
after  the  present  life  he  should  see  God  c.  Moses  had  respect 
a  Gen.  v.  24.— Heb.  xi.  3.  b  Ver.  16,  10.  c  Jobxix.  25. 


424  THE  riNAL  CONSUMMATION 

vnto  the  r^compence  of  reward  a.  David  rejoiced  in  the  certain 
hope  of  beholding  the  face  of  God  in  righteousness,  and  of  being 
satisfied,  when  he  should  awake,  with  his  likeness  :  and  assures 
us,  that  there  is  verily  a  reward  for  the  righteous  b.  Daniel 
tells  us,  that  many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth 
shall  awake,  some  to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to  shame  and 
everlasting  contempt  c.  And,  in  a  word,  the  prophet  Hosea 
speaks  much  the  same  language,  when  with  triumph  he  foretels 
our  redemption  from  death  and  the  grave  d. 

But  in  the  New  Testament  life  and  immortality  are 
brought  to  light — are  elucidated  and  made  more  clear  and  plain 
than  under  the  former  dispensation  e.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
to  whose  mediation  we  owe  our  hope  of  future  happiness,  hath 
himself  placed  this  doctrine  in  the  fullest  light,  assuring  us  that 
the  pure  in  heart  shall  see  Godf  that  the  righteous  shall  go 
into  eternal  life  g,  and  that  as  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world, 
so  it  is  his  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  his  little  fock  another, 
that  is,  an  heavenly  kingdom  h.  And  his  apostles  after  him 
insist  largely  upon  this  great  fundamental  truth  of  religion,  hoth 
in  their  discourses  and  epistles  ;  declaring,  in  the  strongest  terms» 
that  God  who  cannot  lie,  had  promised  eternal  life  before  the 
ivorld  began,  that  he  had  confirmed  his  promise  by  an  oath,  and 
put  the  matter  beyond  all  dispute  by  raising  his  own  Son  frorri 
the  dead  i.  Nor  shall  I  here  particularly  recite  the  exalted 
descriptions  they  every  where  give  us  of  the  world  to  come,  and 
their  nervous  and  animating  reasonings  from  thence  to  that 
temper  and  conduct,  which  is  most  pleasing  to  God,  useful  to 
society,  and  beneficial  to  ourselves. 

The  certainty  then  of  this  future  state  of  happiness  is  no  longer 
to  be  questioned,  if  these  assurances  of  it  can  be  fairly  proved 
to  come  from  God.  And  of  this  we  have  every  kind  of  evidence 
that  can  be  reasonably  desired.  Here  I  might  remind  you  of 
the  antiquity,  sublimity  and  purity  of  the  sacred  records;  of  the 
facts  they  relate,  such  as  the  miracles,  death,  resurrection  and 
ascension  of  Jesus  Christ,  all  supported  by  the  most  natural  and. 
convincing  testimony;  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Bible,  and  their 

a  Ileb.  xi.  26.                  b  Psal.  xvii.  15.          c  Dan.  xii.  2.        d  IIos.  xiii.  H'. 
e  2  Tim.  i.  10.  iuT'i^oi.   /Matt.  v.  8.               g  Chap.  xxv.  46. 
h  Luke  xii.  32.  i  Tit.  i.  2.— Heb.  vi.  17 1  Pet.  i.  3,  4. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  425 

exact  accomplishment,  many  of  them  in  former  ages,  and  some 
of  them  in  our  own  times;  and  of  the  amazing  spread  of  the 
gospel,  and  the  admirable  effects  it  hath  produced  in  the  hearts 
and  lives  of  men.  I  might  call  up  to  your  view  the  characters  of 
the  sacred  writers,  who,  as  they  affirmed  they  were  divinely  inspir- 
ed, and  authenticated  their  affirmation  by  the  miraculous  powers 
they  exerted,  so  likewise  gave  abundant  proof  that  they  were 
neither  enthusiasts  on  the  one  hand,  nor  deceivers  on  the  other; 
but  on  the  contrary  men  of  sound  understandings  and  honest 
hearts.  I  might  farther  put  you  in  mind  of  the  sufferings  to 
which  they  exposed  themselves,  by  their  steady  opposition  to 
the  prevailing  passions  and  prejudices  of  the  times  ;  and  of  the 
noble  sacrifice  they,  many  of  them,  made  of  their  lives  to  the 
cause  of  truth.  I  might  add  the  full  and  satisfiictory  evidence  we 
have  that  these  assurances  of  a  future  state  of  happiness  have 
been  preserved  uncorrupt  through  the  worst  of  times,  by  the 
special  providence  of  God,  and  are  truly  conveyed  down  to  us 
in  these  last  ages  of  the  world. 

And  now^,  who  can  question  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  that 
there  is  a  future  state  of  happiness  and  misery,  that  all  mankind 
are  amenable  at  the  tribunal  of  the  great  God,  and  that  their  enrf 
who  have  had  their  fruit  unto  holiness  shall  be  everlasting  life  ? 
The  evidence  amounts  to  moral  certainty.  It  is  acknowledo-ed 
indeed  that  the  world  to  come  is  invisible  :  but  if  on  that  account 
its  reality  is  to  be  disputed,  there  is  an  end  to  all  testimony,  and 
we  may  be  justified  in  believing  nothing  but  what  is  the  imme- 
diate object  of  our  senses.  He  who  hath  been  in  heaven  has 
himself  told  us  that  there  is  a  heaven;  and  having  solemnly  assur- 
ed us  of  it,  he  has  in  our  nature  passed  into  that  world.  Thou- 
sands have  believed  it,  and  their  faith  of  it  has  made  thorn  wiser, 
better  and  happier.  And  bad  men,  though  from  a  consciousness 
of  their  unmeetness  for  it,  they  would  fain  extirpate  the  idea  of 
a  future  state  from  their  minds,  yet  know  not  how  to  resist  the 
force  of  this  evidence,  when  duly  laid  before  them.  O  i  that 
it  may  have  its  proper  weight  on  all  our  minds,  to  awaken  the 
thoughtless  sinner  to  serious  consideration,  and  to  add  firmness 
to  that  joy  and  pleasure  which  the  Christian  sometimes  feels  in 
the  prospect  of  all  this  happiness  and  glory,  of  which  I  am  quick- 
ie to  attempt  some  faint  description  I 


426  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

PART  II. 

From  the  general  view  we  have  taken  of  the  grounds  of  ovu" 
faith  as  to  a  future  state  of  happiness,  I  proceed  now,  as  was 
proposed, 

II.  To  attempt  some  description  of  that  state. 

It  is  indeed  impossible,  in  the  present  life,  to  acquire  ade- 
quate conceptions  of  the  felicity  and  glory  of  heaven.  Our 
faculties  arc  too  feeble  for  the  investigation  of  a  subject  so  sub- 
lime and  exalted.  Yet,  if  we  would  apply  ourselves  closely  to 
it  (and  tbere  is  surely  no  subject  so  improving,  or  so  entertain- 
ing to  a  serious  mind),  we  might,  raethinks,  come  atsome  juster 
and  more  animating  ideas  of  the  invisible  world,  than  those  with 
which  we  are  too  apt  to  content  ourselves.  The  proper  use  of 
our  reasoning  powers,  a  due  consideration  of  the  present  state 
of  things  and  its  connection  with  the  future,  a  careful  reflection 
upon  what  we  have  known  and  enjoyed  of  religion,  and  espe- 
cially a  diligent  attention  to  the  light  which  Scripture  hath 
thrown  upon  this  matter,  will  greatly  assist  us  in  our  enquiries. 
It  is  true,  the  most  holy  place  is  utterly  concealed  from  the  view 
of  the  generality  of  mankind,  and  from  many  of  those  too  who 
worship  in  the  court  of  the  temple.  But  the  veil  may  be  drawn 
aside,  Christ  our  great  High  Priest,  who  is  passed  into  the  hea- 
vens, hath  drawn  it  aside  for  us ;  and  we  are  permitted  to  look  in 
without  the  imputation  of  profaneness  or  presumption.  He  hath 
opened  a  door  in  heaven,  and  bid  us  come  up  thither,  that  we 
may  take  a  view,  though  but  transient  and  imperfect,  of  the 
happiness  and  glory  we  are  by  and  by  to  enjoy.  Let  us  then 
obey  the  divine  command,  take  our  leave  for  a  while  of  this 
vain  and  busy  world,  and  by  faith  join  the  society  of  the  blessed. 

The  mind  of  man  is  so  framed,  that  we  acquire  most  of  our 
knowledge  in  the  present  state  by  the  aid  of  our  senses.  In 
condescension  therefore  to  our  weakness,  and  to  allure  us  to  still 
farther  enquiries,  God  has  thought  fit  in  his  word  to  represent 
invisible  things  to  our  imagination,  by  sensible  objects  with  which 
we  are  continually  conversant.  But,  at  the  same  time,  he  has 
taken  care  to  caution  us  against  acquiescing  in  those  trifling  and 
gross  conceptions  of  heaven,  with  which  Mahomet  hath  fondly 
amused  his  votaries,  without  ever  guarding  them  against  this 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  427 

danger.  For  the  Scriptures  assure  us,  that  it  is  a  spiritual 
state,  and  that  the  employments  and  fruitions  of  it  are  in  truth 
infinitely  more  refined  and  noble,  than  any  of  the  concerns  of  this 
world,  or  the  gratifications  of  sense. 

Let  us  begin  then  with  those  descriptions  of  heaven  which  are 
borrowed  from  sensible  objects,  and  by  these  steps  ascend  to  a 
mere  clear,  spiritual  and  enlivening  view  of  the  blessedness  of 
that  state.  And  if  we  search  the  Bible,  we  shall  there  find  a 
collection  of  the  richest  and  most  brilliant  images  that  nature  or 
art  can  supply ;  all  of  them  held  up  to  our  view  in  such  a  man- 
ner, as  to  impress  our  minds  with  a  general  idea  of  happiness, 
wealth  and  splendour  in  their  highest  perfection.  Sometimes 
we  read  of  treasures  lohich  moth  carmot  corrupt^  nor  thieves 
break  through  and  steal  a ;  of  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
tveight  of  glory  h  :  and  oi'an  inheritance,  incorruptible,  undefledy 
and  ivhichfadeth  not  away  c.  Sometimes  we  are  told  of  a  rest 
that  remaineth  for  the  people  of  God  d,  alluding  to  the  land  of 
Canaan,  which  was  given  the  Israelites  for  a  quiet  possession 
after  their  deliverance  from  Egyptian  slavery,  and  their  tedious 
wanderings  in  a  barren  and  solitary  wilderness.  Sometimes  we 
have  heaven  described  as  a  paradise  e,  furnished  with  all  kinds 
o£ fruits,  enriched  with  the  most  delightful  prospects,  and  water- 
ed with  rivers  of  pleasure y*,-  a  paradise  in  which  '  the  inhabi- 
tants are  none  of  them  sick  £7,'  but  '  the  lamb  who  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne  feeds  them,  and  leads  them  unto  living  fountains 
of  waters,'  and  the  blessed  God,  with  his  own  kind  and  soft  hand, 
gently  '  wipes  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes  h.'  Sometimes  it  is 
represented  as  a  house,  a  house  'not  inade  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens  i,'  a  house  in  which  God  resides,  and  wherein  Christ 
hath  prepared  mansions,  or  apartments,  for  every  one  of  the  fa- 
mily k.  It  is  farther  compared  to  a  large  and  magnificent  city, 
of  which  God  is  the  builder,  whose  streets  are  gold,  its  gates 
pearl,  and  the  foundation  of  it  garnished  ivith  precious  stones  ; 
a  city  which  hath  the  Lord  God  Almighty  for  its  sun  to  enlighten 
it,  and  its  temple  to  adorn  it ;  a  city  into  which  nothing  that  de- 

a  Matt.  vi.  20.  b  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  c  1  Pet.  i.  4>. 

d  Heb.  iv.  9.  e  Luke  x.viii.  'li  y  Rev.  .\xii.  1,  2. 

o  Isa.  xxxiii.  21.  h  Ilev.  vii.  17.  i  2  Cor.  v.  1. 
k  John  xiv.  2. 


428  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

Jileth  can  ever  enter,  whither  the  kings  of  the  earthy  and  all  the 
nations  of  the  earthy  bring  their  glory  and  honour,  and  where 
there  is  no  night,  but  one  bright  eternal  day  a.  And  to  give  us 
a  still  more  exalted  idea  of  that  blissful  place,  its  vast  extent,  its 
splendour  and  magnificence,  its  order  and  regularity,  its  strength 
and  safety,  together  with  the  number,  wealth,  peace,  happiness, 
and  glory  of  its  inhabitants ;  it  is  described  as  a  kingdom  b-ra, 
kingdom  which  in  all  these  respects  infinitely  exceeds  that  of  the 
Assyrians,  Greeks  or  Romans.  Nay,  each  one  of  the  saints  is 
to  possess  a  kingdom,  for  they  are  all  of  them  kings  and  priests 
unto  God,  and  as  such  to  wear  crowns  of  righteousness  and  glory, 
and  to  be  arrayed  in  robes  of  innocence  and  purity  c.  But  it 
were  endless  to  enumerate  the  various  figures,  which  Scripture 
hath  interwoven  with  the  accounts  it  gives  us  of  the  future 
happy  state  of  good  men.  If  this  world,  I  mean  the  external 
frame  of  it,  is  amaznigly  beautiful  and  glorious ;  if  the  sun,  moon 
and  stars  furnish  illustrious  proofs  of  the  wisdom  and  greatness 
of  God ;  and  if  even  the  meanest  part  of  the  creation  is  capable 
of  affording  entertainment  and  surprise  to  an  inquisitive  and  con- 
templative mind  ;  how  great  must  be  the  beauty,  magnificence 
and  splendour  of  the  heavenly  world  ?  that  world  where  the  great 
God  gives  the  fullest  display  of  his  infinite  perfections.  O  the 
immensity  of  that  place  !  It  hath  no  bounds. — The  brightness 
of  it  1  God  is  the  sun. — The  purity  of  it !  Nothing  that  defileth 
shall  ever  enter  into  it. — Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nei- 
ther have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him  d. 

Not,  however,  content  with  this  general  view  of  the  heaven- 
ly blessedness,  let  us  now  more  particularly  consider — After 
what  manner  good  men  will  exist  in  that  state — The  perfection 
to  which  their  nature  will  attain — Their  employment — The 
blessedness  Vrfhich  will  thence  result  to  them — And  the  duration 
of  their  happiness. 

First,  After  what  manner  will  the  saints  exist  in  that  world? 

The  two  constituent  parts  of  man  are,  soul  and  body.  These, 
in  the  present  state,  are  closely  united,  and  mutually  act  upon 
each  other.     But  at  death  this  union  is  dissolved,  and  '  the 

a  Rev.  xxi.  9.— ult.  b  Matt.  v.  10,  &c. 

c  Rev.  i.  6.-2  Tim.  iv.  8.— Rev.  vii.  H.  d  1  Cor.  iL  9. 


\ 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  429 

dust  returns  to  tlie  earth  as  it  was,'  while  '  the  spirit  returns  unto 
God  who  gave  it  a.' — Now,  as  to  the  soul,  whether  it  exists  and 
acts  purely  of  itself,  I  mean,  unconnected  with  any  material  sub- 
stance; or  whether  it  hath  some  vehicle  provided  for  its  reception, 
which  is  what  some  think  the  apostle  intends  by  our  having  a 
huildhig  of  God.,  an  house  not  made  wilh  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens  b,  is  difficult  to  determine.  Though  indeed  the  diffi- 
culty attending  either  of  these  questions,  appears  to  me  to  be 
much  less  than  that  of  supposing  the  soul  sleeps,  a  notion  which 
I  cannot  but  conclude,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  both  unphilo- 
sophical  and  unscriptural.  Without,  however,  entering  into  a 
curious  disquisition  of  these  matters,  all  I  shall  here  content 
myself  with  observing  as  to  a  separate  state,  is,  that  the  soul 
exists  after  such  a  manner,  as  to  be  capable  of  exercising  those- 
powers  which  are  essential  to  it,  such  as  thought,  consciousness 
and  reflection.  And  as  to  the  body,  we  arc  assured  that  that 
will  be  raised  at  the  last  day,  and  become  again  the  mansion  or 
place  of  residence  of  the  immortal  spirit.  Let  us  therefore  im- 
mediately go  on  to  consider, 

Secondly,  The  perfection  to  which  their  respective  natures 
will  attain. 

Here  imagination,  under  the  guidance  of  Scripture,  may  be 
allowed  its  utmost  scope  ;  though,  after  all,  the  most  fruitful 
imagination  must  needs  fail  in  the  description.  Indeed  we  can 
collect  but  few  positive  ideas  of  the  future  state  of  either  soul 
or  body  ;  yet  the  divesting  both  the  one  and  the  other  of  all  pre- 
sent in-'perfections,  will  possess  us  at  once  with  exalted  concep- 
tions of  their  felicity  and  glory.     To  begin  then, 

1.  With  the  nobler  part.  What  an  amazing  change  must 
that  be  which  passes  on  the  soul  of  a  good  m^in,  at  the  instant  it 
is  dislodged  from  the  body  !  Its  natural  faculties  are  strength- 
ened and  enlarged,  and  its  moral  powers  refined  and  purified  to 
the  highest  degree  imaginable.  Our  intellects  are  evidently  at 
present  in  a  very  imperfect  and  defective  state.  Such  is  the 
slowness  and  obscurity  of  our  conceptions,  such  the  weakness 
and  fallibility  of  our  judgment,  and  such  the  inattention  and 
treachery  of  our  memory,  that  we  find  much  labour  necessary  in 
ierder  to  acquire  a  small  degree  of  knowledge,  we  are  often  be- 
a  Eccl.  xii.  7.  6  2  Cor.  v.  U 


430  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION' 

wildered  in  our  pursuit  of  the  plainest  truths,  and  before  we  are 
aware,  are  frequently  hurried  into  strange  mistakes  and  errors. 
Kay,  he  who  hath  made  the  most  considerable  progress  in  know- 
ledge, whether  natural  or  divine,  cannot  fail  of  lamenting  his 
ignorance,  and  acknowledging  with  concern,  the  dark,  feeble 
and  contracted  state  of  the  human  mind.  Thus  it  is  with  us 
in  the  present  life.  But  at  death,  all  these  grievances  will  be 
instantly  redressed.  Our  intellectual  powers  will  then  receive 
such  an  accession  of  strength  and  vigour,  as  will  add  quickness, 
facility  and  pleasure  to  all  their  operations.  There  will  be  no 
dullness  of  apprehension,  or  difficulty  of  judging;  and  of  conse-^ 
qucnce  no  painful  investigation  of  truth,  no  perplexed  reason- 
ings, no  false  and  erroneous  conclusions.  The  perception  will 
be  clear  and  easy,  the  judgment  sound  and  steady,  and  the  me- 
mory retentive  and  strong.  All  this  the  apostle  plainly  intimates 
in  those  memorable  words  of  his  «,  "  Now  I  know  in  part,  my 
knowledge,  however  superior  to  that  of  some  other  men,  is  im- 
perfect, and  a  great  deal  of  it  acquired  with  much  difficulty  and 
labour;  hut  tl ten  sJiCill  I  know  even  as  also  I  am  known;  my 
mental  sight  shall  be  so  strengthened  and  enlarged,  and  divine 
objects  placed  in  such  a  point  of  light,  as  that  my  knowledge  of 
them  shall  bear  some  resemblance  to  that  of  God,  whose  eye 
does  not  only  glance  at  the  surface  of  things,  but  enters  into 
their  nature,  and  instantly  comprehends  all  their  hidden  quali- 
ties." 

And  then,  as  to  the  moral  powers  of  the  soul,  these  will  be 
refined  from  all  the  pollutions  of  sin  and  sense,  and  restored  to 
a  state  of  perfect  rectitude  and  purity.  The  renovation  of  the 
heart  is  indeed  the  great  object  of  religion  in  the  present  life; 
but  that  object  is  not,  it  cannot  be,  fully  attained  while  we  are 
in  the  body.  The  best  of  men  complain  of  evil  propensities, 
stubborn  prejudices  and  irregular  passions;  and  great  is  their 
distress  on  these  accounts.  Ah  !  the  bitter  sighs  that  arise 
from  their  sorrowful  breasts,  while  they  silently  deplore 
these  sad  effects  of  human  depravity — these  remains  of  cor- 
ruption and  sin,  which  disgrace  the  soul,  disturb  its  peace, 
and  obstruct  its  progress  in  the  divine  life.  But,  when  death 
lias   done    his  office,  these  complaints  shall  all  instantly  sub- 

n  1  Cor.  xiii.  l?. 


OP  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  431 

side.  The  very  moment  the  imprisoned  spirit  is  set  at  liberty, 
it  is  made  perfect  a.  It  springs,  as  it  were,  into  life;  for  here 
it  could  hardly  be  said  to  live.  It  is  healed  of  every  disease, 
and  becomes  perfectly  healthful  and  happy.  It  breathes  the 
pure  air  of  the  celestial  regions,  free  from  all  tlie  oppressions 
of  this  gross  atmosphere.  It  recovers  its  original  beauty,  free- 
dom and  glory.  Every  corruption  is  totally  eradicated  from  the 
heart;  and  every  virtuous,  holy  and  divine  principle  implanted 
there,  is  at  once  ripened  to  a  stale  of  maturity.  In  short,  as  it 
is  created  after  the  image  of  God,  in  knowledge,  righteousness^ 
and  true  holiness  b,  so  it  henceforth  exerts  all  its  powers  in  the 
pursuit  of  these  great  objects,  with  infinite  ease  and  pleasure, 
and  without  a  possibility  of  their  enduring  any  disturbance  or 
opposition  whatever.  Tims  it  beholds  the  face  of  God  in  righ- 
teousness,  and  awakes  out  of  this  world  into  the  other  with  the 
divine  likeness  c.  And  now  what  a  blessed  change  is  this  !  And 
in  how  different  a  state  does  the  Christian  find  himself  from  that 
he  was  in  a  moment  before,  when  he  animated  a  frail  and  mor- 
tal body  ! — And  so  I  am  led  to  speak, 

2.  Of  the  perfection  to  which  the  body  shall  attain.  That,  as 
I  said,  is  at  death  consigned  to  the  grave,  to  a  state  of  inactivity 
and  putrefaction.  But  at  the  last  day  it  shall  be  raised.  The 
voice  of  the  descending  Saviour  shall  shake  the  sepulchres  of 
the  dead,  and  rouse  their  sleepy  inhabitants  into  life.  The 
scattered  bones,  to  use  the  visionary  language  of  Ezekiel,  '  shall 
come  together  ;  the  sinews  and  flesh  shall  come  upon  them,  and 
the  skin  shall  cover  them  above ;  the  breath  of  the  Lord  shall 
breathe  upon  them,  and  they  shall  live,  and  stand  up  upon  their 
feet,  an  exceeding  great  army  c?.'  Amazing  sight  !  Nor  will  the 
bodies  of  the  saints  rise  into  the  same  state  they  were  formerly 
in.  Such  a  resurrection  would  be  scarcely  desirable.  No ;  they 
will  become  spiritual,  glorious  and  immortal  e.  They  will  be 
no  more  liable  to  any  of  the  infirmities  which  attend  them  in 
this  life,  to  decay  of  spirits,  beauty  or  strength ;  and  so  will 
require  none  of  those  supports  and  refreshments  which  nature 
now  supplies.  On  the  contrary,  they  will  be  ever  healthy,  ac- 
tive and  strong,  and    ever  retain    their  original  sprightliness 

a  Heb.  xli.  23.  h  Eph.  iv.  21..— Col.  iii.  10,  c  Tsal.  xvii.  15. 

d  Ezek,  xxxvii.  4 — 10.       e  1  Cor.  xv.  4'«i — '14s. 


432  THE  FINAL  CONSUM3IATION 

and  vigour,  beauty  and  comeliness.  The  senses  will  be  refinec!, 
strengthened  and  enlarged.  The  eye,  for  instance,  how  quick, 
penetrating  and  strong  !  No  object,  however  briglit,  will  dazzle 
it,  or  give  it  the  least  uneasy  sensation.  The  shining  counte- 
nance of  Moses  will  no  longer  require  a  veil,  no,  nor  the  more 
glorious  countenance  of  Clirist  himself.  The  most  distant  ob- 
ject will  be  within  its  reach,  and  be  as  clearly  beheld  as  if  imme- 
diately present.  Indeed  the  whole  frame  will  be  exquisitely 
beautiful,  its  proportion  exact,  its  parts  firm,  its  appearance 
lovely;  suited  in  every  respect  to  the  guest  it  shall  entertain, 
to  the  company  with  which  it  shall  associate,  to  the  world  where 
it  shall  reside,  and  to  the  pure  and  spiritual  services  in  which  it 
shall  ever  be  employed.  The  description  which  the  apostle 
gives  us  of  it  is  most  grand  and  noble,  when  he  tells  us  that 
Christ  himself  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  he  fashion- 
ed like  unto  his  glorious  body,  according  to  the  working  whereby 
he  is  cd)le  even  to  subdue  cdl  things  to  himself  a.  If  the  Son  of 
God  deigns  to  appear  among  the  saints  above  in  a  human  body, 
we  may  be  assured  it  is  a  glorious  body  indeed.  How  glorious 
then  must  their  bodies  be  which  are  fashioned  after  this  divine 
model,  and  upon  which  such  extraordinary  power  is  exerted,  and 
that  by  the  immediate  influence  and  operation  of  the  Saviour 
himself!  To  these  bodies  then  will  the  immortal  spirit  be  re- 
united, and  the  union  never  more  be  dissolved. — And  thus  I  am 
led  from  this  general  view  of  the  perfection  of  their  natures,  to 
enquire, 

Thirdly,   What  is  the  employment  of  the  blessed? 

An  indolent  life  is  an  unhappy  life  :  it  is  so  to  a  man  of  spirit, 
who  understands  his  own  proper  interests  and  ends  of  existence. 
We  cannot  therefore  imagine,  that  they  who  possess  the  dispo- 
sitions and  powers  I  have  been  describing,  spend  an  eternal  du- 
ration in  sloth  and  dissipation.  No ;  they  are  ever  employed 
about  matters  of  the  highest  and  noblest  concernment,  and  in  a 
manner  suited  to  their  pure  and  perfect  natures.  Man  is  an  in- 
telligent and  social  creature:  the  chief  business  therefore  of  the 
heavenly  world  must  consist  in  contemplation  and  conversation, 
that  is,  in  the  exercise  of  the  mind  upon  subjects  infinitely  en- 
tertaining and  improvijig,.  and  in  a  mutual  exchange  of  ideas  on 

a  PhiL  iii.  21. 


or  RELIP.ION  IN  HEAVEN.  433 

such  subjects.  And  from  hence  must  result  the  most  refined 
blessedness,  which  we  shall  attempt  quickly  to  describe.  In  the 
mean  time,  let  us  take  a  general  view  of  the  company  with 
which  the  blessed  spirits  above  associate — the  subject-matter  of 
their  contemplation  and  discourse — ^and  the  manner  in  which 
these  exercises  are  conducted. 

1.  As  to  the  company  with  which  they  associate. 

In  this  vvorld  but  little  agreeable  society  is  to  be  met  with, 
but  few  to  whom  we  can  freely  unbosom  ourselves,  yea  none  in 
whose  acquaintance  we  can  be  perfectly  happy.  So  that  we  are 
ready  sometimes  l^o  grow  weary  of  the  world,  and  to  say  with 
Job,  I  lothe  it,  I  would  not  live  alway  a.  But  in  heaven  the 
scene  will  be  quite  reversed.  We  shall  commence  a  never-end- 
ing friendship,  and  an  entire  union  of  heart,  with  persons  of  the 
most  amiable  and  worthy  characters,  and  who  possess  every  pos- 
sible excellence  and  perfection  suited  to  the  rank  they  hold. 
We  shall  join  the  general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-horn, 
which  are  written  in  heaven — the  spirits  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect— an  innumerable  company  of  angels — Jesus  the  Mediator  of 
the  new  covenant — and  God  himself  the  judge  of  all  b. 

Do  the  tender  feelings  of  nature,  heightened  and  improved 
by  the  still  nobler  affections  of  virtue  and  religion,  excite  in  our 
breasts  an  ardent  desire  to  be  admitted  again  to  the  embraces  of 
our  dear  departed  friends  and  relatives,  with  whom  we  have  had 
sweet  communion  here  on  earth,  and  who  are  now  with  God  ? 
That  desire  will  be  gratified,  with  the  additional  satisfaction  of 
finding  both  them  and  ourselves  in  a  state  of  perfect  happiness 
and  glory.  When  we  trace  the  characters  of  great  and  good 
men,  as  drawn  in  the  sacred  pages,  men  famous  for  their  sim- 
plicity, meekness  and  love,  for  their  patience,  fortitude  and 
piety,  do  our  passions  kindle  into  a  flame,  and  ai-e  we  almost 
ready  to  burst  the  bands  of  mortal  flesh,  that  we  may  mingle 
with  these  blessed  spirits  above  ?  Such  also  will  be  our  exalted 
privilege  at  death.  With  Enoch,  who  walked  with  God  here 
on  earth,  we  shall  intimately  converse  in  heaven.  In  the  bosom 
of  Abraham,  the  father  of  the  faithful,  we  shall  gently  repose 
our  weary  souls.  The  transfigured  countenance  of  Moses,  the 
great  law-giver  of  the  church,  we  shall  behold  with  a  steady 

a  Job  vii.  16.  b  Ileb.  xii.  22—24.. 

VOL.  I.  E  e 


434  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

eye.  And  with  rapturous  pleasure  shall  we  hang  on  the  devout 
songs  of  David,  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel.  Patriarchs,  pro- 
phets and  apostles,  the  illustrious  army  of  confessors,  '  who 
came  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  a,'  Christians  of 
every  rank  and  condition  among  men,  will  be  our  associates  and 
companions.  Their  number  cannot  be  told.  Their  happiness 
cannot  be  conceived.  Their  honours  cannot  be  described. 
They  are  all  of  one  mind,  and  one  heart;  so  that  their  friendly 
coramerce  can  suffer  no  interruption,  through  difference  of  opi- 
nion, unhappiness  of  temper,  or  any  hasty  prejudices  whatever. 
They  are  knit  to  one  another  with  indissoluble  bands  of  esteem 
and  love ;  and  all  the  rich,  treasures  of  knowledge  and  pleasure 
which  each  one  possesses,  are  cheerfully  laid  out  to  promote  the 
growing  entertainment  and  happiness  of  the  whole.  What  a 
blessed  company  this  ! 

Angels  also  make  up  a  part  of  the  society.  Those  spirits  of 
superior  rank,  so  variously  described  in  Scripture,  to  denote 
their  different  degrees  of  knowledge,  authority  and  glory — 
Those  constant  worshippers  of  the  supreme  Majesty,  ministers 
of  his  pleasure,  and  guardians  of  his  people  b — Those  morning 
stars  that  sang  together,  those  sons  of  God  who  shouted  for  joy 
at  the  creation  of  the  world  c  ! — Those  fiames  of  fire  whom 
David  celebrates  in  the  Psalms  d — Those  armies  of  the  living 
God,  a  host  of  which  was  detached  to  welcome  the  Saviour  into 
the  world,  to  minister  to  him  during  his  pilgrimage  on  earth, 
and  to  attend  him  afterwards  to  glory.  How  prodigious  is 
their  number  !  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands 
of  thousands  e,  yea,  a  number  that  cannot  be  reckoned/!  How 
vast  their  knowledge,  dominion  and  power  !  '  They  excel  in 
wisdom  and  strength  g.'  How  extensive  their  benevolence  and 
love  !  They  desire  to  look  into  the  mystery  of  redemption  h ;  and 
while  they  dwell  on  the  rapturous  subject,  they  strike  their 
harps  with  infinite  exultation  and  joy  to  the  '  new  song  of  Moses 
and  the  Lamb  i.' 

a  Rev.  vii.  14.  b  Psal.  xxxiv.  7.  c  Job  xxviii.  7. 

d  Psal.  civ.  4.  e  Rev.  v.  11.  /Heb.  xii.  22. 

S  Psal.  ciii.  20.  h  1  Pet.  i.  12.  i  Rev.  v.  12. 


OF  RELrCION  IN  HEAVEN.  435 

In  the  midst  of  tins  illustrious  multitude  is  seen  the  divine 
Jesus,  who  infinitely  outshines  them  all  in  splendour  and  glory. 
O  who  can  describe  the  superior  mixture  of  sweetness  and  ma- 
jesty, which  distinguishes  his  countenance  from  theirs  who  stand 
around  him  ?  In  him  centre  all  beauty,  excellence,  and  perfec- 
tion. '  He  is  the  chiefcst  among  ten  thousand,  he  is  altoge- 
ther lovely  «.'  There,  I  say,  is  seen  that  Jesus,  who  the  other 
day  was  a  poor,  despised,  afflicted  man,  but  is  now  a  happy,  glo- 
rious, exalted  Prince;  who  the  other  day  expired  in  agonies 
upon  a  cross,  but  is  now  seated  upon  a  throne,  '  hath  a  name 
written  on  his  vesture  and  on  his  thigh,  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords  />,'  and  reigns  uncontrouled  Sovereign  over 
the  universe.  There  he  unveils  his  matchless  glories  to  the 
view  of  millions  of  admiring  spectators,  converses  intimately  and 
familiarly  with  each  one  of  them,  and  pours  the  richest  blessings 
into  their  hearts.  '  Father,  1  will,'  said  he  in  his  last  prayer 
here  on  earth,  'that  they  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  be  with 
me  where  I  am,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory  c'  And  his 
glory  they  do  behold,  for  they  see  him  face  to  face  d,  without 
any  of  those  mediums  which  this  our  distant  state  requires,  and 
without  any  of  those  interruptions  and  allays,  which  arise  from 
sin  and  sense. 

But  more  than  this,  God  is  with  them.  /?i  thp  presence,  says 
David,  is  fulness  of  Jot/,  at  thy  rigJit  hand  there  are  pleasures 
for  evermore  e.  The  pure  in  heart,  says  Christ,  shall  see  Godf 
And  when  the  apostle  John  would  give  us  the  brightest  descrip- 
tion of  that  state  which  language  can  furnish,  he  tells  us,  that 
God  Almighty  is  the  temple,  and  the  glory  of  God  the  light 
thereof  g.  It  is  even  in  this  life,  the  exalted  privilege  of  good 
men  to  converse  with  God ;  and  when,  upon  some  extraordinary 
occasions,  the  distant  rays  of  his  infinite  perfections  beam  upon 
their  understandings,  with  the  patriarch  they  cry  out,  How 
dreadful  is  this  place  !  it  is  the  house  of  God,  the  gate  of  hea- 
ven h.  But  in  that  other  world  he  is  seen,  he  is  conversed  with, 
he  is  enjoyed  after  a  more  perfect  manner.  He  is  present,  in- 
timately and  immediately  present,  with  each  one  of  those  happy 

a  Sol.  Song,  V.  10 — 16.  b  Rev.  xix.  16.  c  John  xvil.  2A-. 

d  1  Cor.  xiii.  12.  e  Psal.  xvi.  ult.  /Matt.  v.  9. 

g  Rev.  xxl,  22,  23.  h  Gen.  xxviii.  17. 

E  e  2 


436  THE  PINAL  CONSUMMATION 

spirits.  Aiul,  O  !  how  inconceivably  bright  and  glorious  are 
the  emanations  of"  light,  love,  and  joy,  which  they  every  moment 
derive  from  that  great  Sun  of  righteousness,  that  pure  and  inex- 
haustible fountain  of  all  good  ! — Such  then  is  the  company  with 
which  they  associate.     And  now, 

2.  As  to  the  subjects  of  their  contemplation  and  discourse ; 
we  may  be  sure  they  are  most  interesting  and  important,  infi- 
nitely diversified,  and  exquisitely  ravishing  and  delightful. 

To  know  the  only  true  God,  our  Saviour  assures  us,  is  life 
eternal  a.  Indeed  the  divine  essence  can  never  be  comprehend- 
ed by  a  finite  mind.  Yet  such  a  light  will  perhaps  be  reflected 
upon  that  mysterious  communion  of  deity,  which  subsists  be- 
tween the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Spirit,  as  will  enable  us 
to  apprehend,  more  clearly  than  we  do  now,  this  great  truth, 
which  bears  so  immediate  a  relation  to  the  scheme  of  our  re- 
demption. In  that  day  we  shall  know  that  Christ,  the  true  God 
and  eternal  life  b,  is  in  the  Father  c ;  and  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
the  Comforter  proceedeth  from  him  d. 

The  perfections  of  God,  as  displayed  in  his  works,  will  theu 
appear  in  all  their  native  beauty,  harmony,  and  glory,  not,  as 
they  dt>  at  present,  beclouded  by  the  thick  mists  which  ignorance 
and  folly  have  cast  before  our  eyes.  Alas  !  the  most  sagacious 
philosopher  is  now  overwhelmed  with  perplexity,  while  he  wan- 
ders through  this  amazing  system  of  being,  surveys  the  innu- 
merable orders  of  creatures,  which  inhabit  and  adorn  our  earth, 
considers  their  several  capacities,  relations  and  uses,  and  at- 
tempts to  investigate  their  various  hidden  qualities,  powers,  and 
operations.  And  though,  amidst  this  crowd  of  objects,  he  sees 
enough  of  God  to  fill  his  breast  with  astonishing  ideas  of  great- 
ness and  glory ;  yet  he  can  do  little  more  than  humbly  trace  the 
distant  shadows  of  divine  excellencies,  and  imperfectly  spell  out 
the  name  of  the  great  Parent  of  the  universe.  But  then,  it 
may  be,  all  the  knotty  questions,  all  the  hard  problems  in  natu- 
ral science,  which  now  exercise  the  wit  and  ingenuity  of  men, 
will  be  solved,  the  connection  between  causes  and  effects  be 
clearly  understood,  and  the  beauty,  harmony,  and  use  of  every 
part  of  the  creation  be  evidently  perceived.     What  a  prodigious 

a  John  xvii.  3.  b\  John  v.  20. 

c  John  xiv.  20.  d  Chap,  xv.  26. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  437 

variety  here  for  meditation  and  discourse  !  and  what  amazing 
discoveries  of  wisdom,  power  and  glory,  must  break  in  upon  the 
astonished  mind  !  All  the  natural  knowledge  of  which  Solomon 
could  boast,  is  but  like  the  fond  conceits  of  children,  when  com- 
pared with  that  light  which  will  irradiate  the  minds  of  the 
blessed. 

There  is  a  Providence  which  governs  the  world,  and  hath  an 
invisible  and  powerful  influence  in  the  affairs  of  every  individual. 
And  in  the  scheme  of  Providence,  however  complicated  its  seve- 
ral parts,  there  is  a  perfect  unity  of  design  :  so  that  the  infinitely 
numerous  and  diversified  events  which  take  place  in  our  world, 
are  all,  someway  or  other,  subservient  to  one  grand  end,  and, 
in  the  compassing  that  end,  there  must  be  an  amazing  display 
«f  wisdom,  power  and  goodness.     This  is  a  subject,  therefore, 
of  vast  extent,  and  furnishes  an  inexhaustible  variety  of  matter 
for  contemplation  and  discourse.     But  alas  !  at  present,  so  weak 
is  our  mental  sight,  that  we  can  scarce  read  a  line  in  this  pro- 
digious volume  of  providence  without  hesitating ;  and  we  have 
no  sooner  taken  a  step  in  this  intricate  path,  than  wc  are  at  a 
loss  which  way  to  turn.      While  therefore  with  the  apostle,  wc 
lift  up  our  astonished  eyes  to  heaven,  and  say.  How  unsearchable 
are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  Jinding  out  a  !  it  becomes 
us  patiently  and  implicitly  to  submit  to  his  will,  who  we  are  sure 
does  all  things  well.    But  in  that  better  world,  that  land  of  know- 
ledge and  vision,   the  mysteries  of  providence  will  perhaps  be 
unfolded,  and  the  history  of  mankind,  from  the  beginning  of 
time  to  the  final  consummation  of  all  things,  be  fully  explained 
and  understood.      What  I  do,  says  the  great   Governor  of  the 
world  to  us,  as  he  once  said  to  Peter,  ye  know  tiot  now,  but  ye 
shall  know  hereafter  b.     The  counsels  of  Heaven  respecting 
(empires,  kingdoms,  and  particular  eocieties  of  men,  the  means 
destined  for  carrying  them  into  execution,  and  the  harmonious 
and  successful  operation  of  these  means,  to  the  great  and  noble 
ends  proposed,  will  be  all  laid  open  to  our  view.     And  O  !   what 
a  scene  of  wonders  will  our  eyes  here  behold  !   Nor  will  a  recol- 
lection of  these  great  events  swallow  up  the  remembrance  of 
what  hath  happened  to  ourselves.     Each  one  will  have  an  exact 
and  ample  view  of  his  own  history,  and  vyill  see,  with  pleasure 
a  Rom.  &i.  33.  b  John  xiii.  7. 


438  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

and  astonishment  inexpressible,  how  artfully  every  circumstance 
of  his  life,  however  strange  and  unpromising,  was  so  disposed, 
as  at  once  to  promote  his  own  good,  and  to  advance  the  general 
plan  respecting  the  whole.  The  patriarch  Joseph,  that  favour- 
ite of  Providence,  will  tell  how  every  event  in  his  history,  bore  a 
relation  both  to  his  own  personal  interests,  and. to  the  future  for- 
tunes of  his  family,  and  the  Jewish  and  Christian  churches. 
O  !  what  amazing  discoveries  will  this  fountain  of  knowledge 
and  pleasure  pour  upon  the  inquisitive  mind  !   But  are  we  to 

stop  here  ?  No 

There  is  a  still  more  exalted  subject  than  even  the  administra- 
tion of  Providence,  to  employ  the  attention  of  the  blessed,  that 
is,  the  great  work  of  Redemption.  A  subject  this,  of  all  others 
the  most  sublime  and  noble,  and  fruitful  of  infinite  entertain- 
ment and  delight.  Here  the  divine  glories  are  collected,  as  it 
•were,  in  one  point,  and  so  held  up  to  the  view  of  the  mind,  as 
to  possess  it  of  the  most  perfect  idea  of  God  that  can  possibly 
be  framed.  The  magnificence  of  Ahasucrus  the  Persian  mo- 
narch, on  ordinary  occasions,  was  great ;  but  when  in  the  ful- 
ness of  his  joy  he  resolves  to  assemblo  all  his  princes  and  ser- 
vants in  Shushan  his  palace,  there  to  make  one  grand  exhibition 
of  the  riches  of  his  glorious  kingdom,  and  the  honour  of  his 
excellent  majesty,  how  must  his  magnificence  have  exceeded  a  ! 
So,  if  the  parallel  be  lawful,  the  Supreme  Majesty  seems  to 
have  devised  and  adjusted  the  great  plan  of  our  redemption  in 
such  a  manner,  as  that,  besides  the  benefit  resulting  from  it  to 
individuals  (a  matter,  comparatively  speaking,  of  trifling  con- 
sideration), it  should  become  an  occasion  of  displaying  his  bright- 
est glories,  to  the  view  of  the  myriads  of  happy  beings  assembled 
in  his  palace  above.  Hero  is  a  concurrence  of  truths  too  sub- 
lime and  august,  too  strange  and  marvellous,  too  various  and 
complicated,  to  be  capable  of  description  by  human  language. 
Wherever  we  turn  our  eyes,  whether  on  the  facts  the  gospel 
relates  concerning  the  person  of  Christ,  his  offices,  his  miracles, 
his  sufferings,  his  death,  and  the  triumphs  that  succeeded  it : 
or,  on  the  scheme  of  redemption  itself,  the  infinite  extent,  gran- 
deur and  harmony  of  the  plan,  the  amazing  glories  it  reflects  on 
all  the  divine  attributes,  the  relation  it  bears  to  the  general 
a  Esth.  i.  3 — 5. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  439 

scheme  of  providence,  and  the  influence  it  hath  on  the  happiness 
of  millions  of  beings  through  an  eternal  duration  of  existence ; 
wherever,  I  say,  we  turn  our  eyes,  we  are  lost  in  contemplation 
and  wonder.  What  inexhaustible  sources  are  there  here  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  blessed  ! — God  manifest  in  the  flesh  ! 
— The  Creator  of  the  world  expiring  on  a  cross  ! — Guilt,  com- 
plicated guilt,  expiated  ! — Innocence  retrieved  ! — Justice  satis- 
fied, yet  mercy  triumphant  ! — Death  swallowed  up  in  victory  ! 
— The  powers  of  darkness  routed  and  overthrown  ! — The  miser- 
able vassals  of  Satan  made  heirs  of  God  ! — Humanity  united  to 
Deity  ! — Angels  confirmed  in  their  bliss  ! — And  the  happiness 
of  every  individual  of  that  vast  and  boundless  empire,  infinitely 
augmented  by  this  astonishing  display  of  wisdom,  power  and 
love  ! 

And  now,  amidst  all  these  works  of  God,  can  there  be  sub- 
jects wanting  to  excite  the  curiosity,  to  fix  the  attention,  to  en- 
tertain the  imagination,  or  to  improve  and  gladden  the  hearts 
of  the  perfect  spirits  above  ? — Nor  is  there,  I  should  farther 
add, 

3.  Any  kind  of  difficulty  or  embarrassment  attending  these 
exercises  of  contemplation  and  discourse,  as  they  are  conducted 
in  that  world.  This  may  be  easily  concluded,  from  what  we 
have  already  observed  concerning  the  perfect  state  to  which  the 
powers  of  human  nature  shall  attain. 

Alas  !  in  the  present  life,  be  the  subjects  we  contemplate  ever 
so  sublime  and  exalted,  there  are  a  thousand  circumstances,  both 
within  us  and  all  around  us,  to  impede  and  perplex  the  opera^ 
tions  of  the  mind,  and  to  restrain  and  cool  the  divine  passions 
of  the  heart.  No  sooner  have  we  at  any  time  retired  from  the 
world,  composed  ourselves  to  meditation,  and  begun  to  taste  the 
sweetness  of  the  pleasing  theme  we  had  resolved  to  pursue,  but 
instantly  our  promised  bliss  is  assaulted,  spoiled  and  laid  waste, 
by  a  rude  band  of  wild  and  impertinent  thoughts,  if  not  vile 
and  base  affections.  Or  if  the  devotion  of  the  heart  is  strong 
ipnough  to  secure  to  us  the  possession  of  ourselves  for  one  hour, 
nature  quickly  sinks  under  its  own  weight,  and  through  the 
weakness  of  our  faculties,  we  grow  weary  of  our  pleasures. 
The  spirit  is  willin<f,  but  the  flesh  is  weak  a, 
a  Matt.  xxvi.  4tl. 


44#  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

But  in  heaven,  the  sweets  of  contemplation  will  suffer  no  in- 
terruption or  allay  from  these  or  any  other  circumstances  what- 
ever. Encompassed  as  the  immortal  spirit  is  with  scenes  in- 
finitely bright  and  diversified,  it  still  stands  collected  within 
itself.  Enraptured  as  it  is  with  the  warmest  and  most  ecstatic 
passions,  its  perceptions  and  reasonings  still  remain  clear,  serene 
and  steady.  And  fast  as  its  attention  is  held,  to  truths  the  most 
abstruse  and  intricate,  it  still  preserves  its  original  sprightliness, 
vigour  and  activity.  Between  the  object  and  the  intellect  there 
is  a  suitable  proportion ;  and  prodigious  as  the  weight  of  know- 
ledge and  pleasure  is,  the  immortal  mind  sustains  it  without 
the  least  pain  or  difficulty.  The  ease  therefore,  with  which 
they  pursue  their  contemplations,  will  add  infinitely  to  the  plea- 
sure they  afford. 

Nor  will  the  intercourses  of  the  blessed  be  subject  to  any  of 
those  inconveniencies,  which  we  now  sensibly  feel  and  lament. 
That  there  is  among  them  a  mutual  exchange  of  ideas  and  sen- 
timents, such  as  answers  to  what  we  mean  by  conversation  w 
discourse,  is  not  to  be  questioned.  For  otherwise,  to  what 
purpose  are  we  told  in  Scripture  of  their  forming  one  general  as- 
sembly a,  of  their  sitting  down  with  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob, 
in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  b,  of  their  harmoniously  singing  the  song 
of  Moses  and  the  Lamb  c,  and  of  their  uniting  in  the  most  exalted 
acts  of  homage  and  worship  ?  But  how  this  commerce  is  carried 
on,  whether  by  intuition,  or  by  any  kind  of  medium  peculiarly 
adapted  to  that  spiritual  state,  is  to  us  utterly  unknown.  Of 
this  however,  we  may  be  assured,  that  they  communicate  their 
ideas  to  each  other,  with  a  clearness,  facility  and  swiftness,  to 
which  language  is  an  utter  stranger;  and  that  they  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  each  other's  sentiments,  with  a  warmth  and  ardour 
which  it  is  impossible  for  the  utmost  efforts  of  human  eloquence 
to  inspire.  So  that  while  their  discourse  for  the  matter  of 
it  affords  infinite  entertainment  to  their  pure  and  perfect 
minds,  it  hath  never  the  unhappy  effect,  through  any  disagree- 
able mediums  of  communication,  to  fatigue  and  exhaust  the 
spirits. 

Such  then  is  the  employment  of  the  blessed.     They  asso' 
ciate  with  the  noblest  company — They  discourse  on  the  most 
«  Heb.  xii.  23.  b  Matt.  viii.  11.  c  Rev.  xv.  3.    v.  II,  12- 


OP  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEllT.  441 

exalted  subjects — And  they  communicate  their  ideas  and  feel- 
ings to  each  other,  with  infinite  ease,  freedom  and  pleasure. 

PART  III. 

In  order  to  frame  some  idea  of  the  happiness  of  heaven,  we 
have  proposed  to  consider — After  what  manner  good  men  exist 
in  that  state — The  perfection  to  which  their  nature  attains — 
Their  employment — The  blessedness  which  thence  results  to 
them — And  the  duration  of  their  felicity.  We  have  discoursed 
of  the  three  first  of  these,  and  we  now  proceed, 

Fourthly,  To  speak  of  the  refined  and  substantial  bliss 
which  results  from  those  exercises  of  the  saints,  as  they  have 
been  faintly  described. 

What  hath  been  observed  concerning  the  employment  of  the 
blessed,  may  be  all  resolved  into  the  idea  of  communion  with 
God.  For  whatever  be  the  subjects  on  which  they  contemplate 
and  converse,  and  however  their  hearts  are  affected  towards  each 
other,  God  is  all  in  all.  Now  as  God  is  the  Chief  Good, 
a  clear  and  lively  perception  of  his  infinite  excellencies  must  be- 
get— Love — Union — Likeness — and  Satisfaction;  all  which 
makes  up  the  sum  total  of  that  bliss  the  saints  enjoy  in  heaven. 

1.  Their  contemplation  of  God  excites  in  their  breasts  a  pure 
and  ardent  Love  towards  him. 

No  sooner  do  the  ideas  of  beauty,  harmony  and  excellence 
strike  our  imagination,  but  we  instantly  feel  correspondent  af- 
fections of  esteem,  admiration,  desire,  and  consequently  plea- 
sure ;  for  of  all  the  passions  of  the  human  soul,  love  is  the  most 
cheerful  and  enlivening,  insomuch,  that  it  sometimes  produces 
a  kind  of  rapture  or  transport  in  the  breast.  But  in  the  present 
life,  this  passion,  though  wound  up  to  the  highest  pitch,  is  not 
capable  of  making  us  completely  happy.  For,  besides  the  con- 
sideration that  our  judgment  and  senses  often  deceive  us,  it  is 
certain  that  the  object  beloved,  be  it  ever  so  amiable,  hath  in  it  a 
mixture  of  deformity  and  imperfection.  So  that  our  passion  for 
worldly  good,  whatever  tumultuous  pleasure  it  may  excite  in  us  for 
a  few  moments,  is  sure,  in  the  end,  to  dibuppoint,  if  not  torment  us. 

But  the  reverse  of  this  is  the  case  with  that  pure  love,  which 
results  from  the  contemplation  and  vision  of  God  in  heaven. 
For  God  is  supremely  and  transcendcntly  glorious.    There  is  in 


442  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

him  a  concurrence  of  all  possible  excellencies,  in  their  highest 
perfection.  Whatever  wc  perceive  in  the  creature,  that  is 
beautiful,  harmonious  and  lovely,  and  so  is  captivating  to  the 
understanding  or  senses,  it  resides  in  him  as  its  fountain,  origi- 
nally, immutably  and  eternally.  Nature,  reason  and  religion, 
when  viewed  in  their  primitive  state,  and  arrayed  in  all  the 
charms  imaginable  by  the  human  mind,  exhibit  but  a  fainl  re- 
semblance, a  pale  and  shadowy  likeness  of  the  infinitely  bless- 
ed God.  Notv  this  great  object  is  beheld  by  the  saints  in  hea- 
ven, not  at  a  distance,  or  through  mediums  capable  of  imposing 
upon  the  understanding  and  fancy,  but  as  the  Scriptures  express 
\X,face  to  face  «,  immediately,  with  a  clear  and  steady  eye,  and 
without  the  least  interruption,  pain  or  uneasiness.  There  the 
prayer  of  Moses,  in  which  thousands  with  devout  affection  have 
joined  him,  '  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  shew  me  thy  glory  6,'  is 
answered  to  the  infinite  satisfaction  of  all.  And,  thus  behold- 
ing God,  O  how  must  the  enraptured  soul  be  enflamed  with  di- 
vine love,  and  feel  the  pleasures  of  that  love  in  their  highest 
perfection  ?  Thus  viewing  the  King  in  all  his  glory,  how  must 
the  heart,  enamoured  of  his  infinite  excellencies,  cry  out  in  the 
ecstatic  language  of  the  prophet,  '  How  great  is  his  goodness  ! 
How  great  is  his  beauty  c  V  Thus  gazing  on  the  Sun  of  righ- 
teousness, shining  in  the  full  splendour  of  his  infinite  attributes, 
what  light,  and  heat,  and  joy,  must  beam  upon  their  understand- 
ings and  affections  !  What  venerable  ideas  of  his  peerless  ma- 
jesty !  What  admiring  sentiments  of  his  consummate  wisdom  ! 
W^hat  cordial  approbation  of  his  perfect  justice  and  holiness  ! 
What  grateful  resentments  of  his  boundless  love  !  And  what  a 
complacential,  enlivening,  transporting  sense  of  his  favour,  must 
pervade  through  all  the  powers  of  the  soul,  dilate  every  nerve 
of  the  heart,  and  raise  the  spirits  to  a  pitch  of  joy  and  gladness 
inconceivable  by  the  Christian  in  his  happiest  moments  here  on 
earth  : — Now,  where  this  love  of  God  prevails,  there  is  also, 
2.  Union  with  God. 

This  carries  our  ideas  of  the  felicity  of  the  heavenly  world 

still  higher  than  has  been  represented.     For  it  is  one   thing  to 

perceive  the  beauties  of  an  object,  to  feel  an  affection  for  it,  and 

to  be  happy  in  the  exercise  of  such  affection,  and  another  to  be 

a  1  Cor.  xiii.  12.  h  £xod.  xxxiii.  18.  c  Zech.  ix.  17. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  443 

united  to  the  object,  and  become  one  with  it.  I  acknowledge, 
indeed,  that  we  cannot  at  present  form  adequate  conceptions  of 
this  union  of  the  saints  with  God;  yet  it  is  a  matter  of  which 
Scripture  speaks,  and  is  capable  of  some  kind  of  illustration  from 
experience.  The  refusion  of  the  soul  at  death  into  the  aninia 
mundi,  or  the  Deity,  was  a  notion  that  obtained  much  among 
the  stoical  philosophers  of  old.  And  there  have  been  those 
since,  who,  though  by  no  means  of  that  absurd  opinion,  yet 
have  spoken  of  a  certain  illapse  by  which  the  divine  essence  falls 
in  with,  and,  as  it  were,  penetrates,  the  essence  of  the  blessed. 
This  they  have  attempted  to  explain,  by  telling  us,  "  That  as 
a  piece  of  iron,  red  hot  by  reason  of  the  transfusion  of  the  fire 
into  it,  appears  all  over  like  fire ;  so  the  souls  of  the  bless- 
ed, by  this  illapse  of  the  divine  essence  into  them,  are  all  over 
divine."  Whether  any  thing  at  all  similar  to  this  is  possible,  I 
pretend  not  to  determine.  Yet  there  is  surely  a  peculiarity  and 
importance,  inexplicable  by  us  at  present,  in  those  amazing 
words  of  our  Saviour, — As  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in 
thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us  a  ! 

But  what  I  here  mean  is  a  kind  of  union  with  God,  resem- 
bling that  of  friendship  among  men,  only  in  an  infinitely  greater 
perfection.  Where  friendship  is  carried  to  its  utmost  height, 
there  is  such  a  close  intimacy,  such  a  communion  of  sentiments, 
such  an  entire  mutual  confidence,  and  such  innumerable  reci- 
procal endearments,  as  produce  a  oneness  of  interest,  temper, 
and,  I  had  almost  said,  nature,  that  is  scarcely  to  be  conceived, 
but  by  those  who  feel  it.  And  the  happiness  which  results 
hence,  next  to  that  which  flows  from  communion  with  God,  is 
the  most  refined  and  noble  the  precent  life  affords.  In  how 
lively  a  manner  does  David  express  this  union  of  soul  with  his 
friend  Jonathan,  and  the  rapturous  pleasures  of  it,  in  those  pas- 
sionate words  he  uttered  at  his  death,  My  brother  Jonathan^ 
very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me  :  thy  love  to  me  was 
wonderful,  passing  the  love  of  women  b. 

Now,  to  apply  these  ideas  to  the  heavenly  state ;  how  sweet, 
how  ravishing  must  be  the  bliss  which  arises  out  of  the  union 
that  subsists  among  the  blessed  spirits  above,  and  which  is  at- 
tended with  none  of  tliosc  circumstances  that  weaken,  disturb 
a  John  xvii,  '^I.  b  2  Sam,  i.  26. 


444  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

and  interrupt  the  dearest  intimacies,  the  most  cordial  friendships 
on  the  earth  !  And  how  much  more  exalted  still  must  be  the 
bliss  which  is  the  inseparable  concomitant  of  union  with  God  ! 
To  haxe  fellowship  with  the  Father^  and  with  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ  a — to  be  a  partaker  of  the  divine  nature  b — to  be  so  Join- 
ed to  the  Lord  as  to  be  one  spirit  c ;  this  surely  is  joy  unspeak- 
able, and  full  of  glory.  For  the  object  to  which  the  soul  is 
united  is  infinitely  perfect,  and  the  soul  itself  is  capable  of  the 
most  perfect  union  with  it,  its  powers  and  affections  being  en- 
larged and  refined  to  their  utmost  extent.  But  I  forbear  at- 
tempting to  explain  a  subject  so  far  beyond  our  present  compre- 
hension, and  which,  if  it  can  have  any  light  thrown  upon  it,  is 
best  capable  of  being  illustrated  by  that  experience  which  has 
been  the  distinguished  privilege  of  some  few  Christians,  who  at 
certain  seasons  have  been  so  overwhelmed  with  divine  contem- 
plations, as  to  be  in  a  manner  absorbed  and  swallowed  up  in  God. 
— I  am,  however,  from  hence  led  to  speak, 

3.  Of  that  Likeness  which  results  from  this  love  of  God,  and 
union  with  him,  and  which  is  a  farther  eminent  expression  of  the 
blessedness  of  the  saints. 

Friendship,  indeed,  supposes  some  prior  similarity  of  temper 
and  circumstances  :  for  how  '  can  two  walk  together,  except  they 
be  agreed  d?'  Yet  there  may  be  a  real  affection  between  persons 
who  are  in  some  respects  unlike  each  other.  As,  however,  their 
familiarity  increases,  and  they  enter  farther  into  one  another's 
sentiments  and  dispositions,  their  mutual  resemblance  will  become 
more  clear  and  striking.  So,  the  likeness  which  children  bear 
to  their  parents,  and  that  in  respect  of  their  manners  as  well  as 
their  persons,  usually  strengthens  and  improves  as  they  grow  in 
years,  and  are  more  and  more  susceptible  of  impressions  from 
instruction  and  example.  And  thus  it  is  with  Christians,  in  re- 
<Mrd  of  the  blessed  God.  Though  their  resemblance  of  him  is 
in  the  becrinning  very  general  and  imperfect,  so  that,  like  the 
features  in  a  new-born  infant,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  perceived  ;  yet, 
afterwards,  as  they  grow  in  years,  and  their  intimacy  with  Hea- 
ven increases,  it  becomes  more  and  more  visible.  There  is  in 
the  countenances  of  some  good  men,  I  mean  their  temper  and 

a  1  John  i.  3.  b2  Pet.  i.  4. 

c  1  Cor.  vi.  17.  d  Amos  iii.  3. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  445 

deportment,  such  a  mixture  of  sweetness,  beauty  and  dignity,  as 
strikes  almost  every  beholder,  puts  their  relation  to  God  beyond 
all  dispute,  and  obliges  even  the  enemies  of  religion  to  acknow- 
ledge that  they  have  been  with  Jesus.  Beholding  as  in  a  glass, 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,  they  are  changed  into  the  same  image, 
from  glory  to  glory ^  even  as  by  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  a. 

But  after  all,  how  very  imperfect  a  reflection  of  the  divine 
excellencies  docs  the  brightest  character  on  earth  exhibit,  in  com- 
parison with  his  who  is  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  above  ! 
While  the  glory  of  the  one  resembles  only  the  pale  light  of  the 
moon,  that  of  the  other  is  comparable  with  the  sun  shining  in 
its  meridian  glory.  Admitted,  as  those  happy  spirits  are,  not 
only  to  the  immediate  vision,  but  into  the  intimate  embraces  of 
the  blessed  God,  O  how  is  his  radiant  image  enstamped  on  all 
the  faculties  of  their  minds,  and  on  all  the  dispositions  and  affec- 
tions of  their  hearts  !  Contemplating  the  transcendent  glories  of 
the  omniscient  and  all  wise  God,  how  are  their  understandings 
enriched  with  inexhaustible  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  \ 
Conversing  with  the  most  amiable  of  all  objects,  the  Beauty  of 
Holiness,  how  are  their  tempers  moulded  into  an  exact  confor- 
mity to  that  perfect  pattern  of  truth  and  rectitude,  benevolence 
and  love  !  And  feeling,  if  I  may  so  express  myself,  their  souls 
united  to  the  Chief  Good,  how  are  they  filled  with  all  the  ful- 
ness of  God  b  !  They  know  even  as  they  are  knoivn  c.  They 
are  pure  as  God  is  pure  d.  They  are  perfect  as  their  Father 
who  is  in  heaven  is  perfect  e.  So  fair,  so  deep,  so  abiding  an 
impress  of  the  divine  likeness,  must  surely  display  beauties  to 
the  view  of  every  beholder  surpassing  all  imagination;  while  it 
diffuses  through  the  conscious  breast  pleasures  too  refined  and 
ecstatic  to  be  described. 

God  has  even  in  this  life,  on  some  extraordinary  occasions, 
afforded  sensible  manifestations  of  his  glory ;  as  witness  Sinai 
of  old  and  Tabor  afterwards  :  and  the  effect  was  truly  great. 
But  what  was  the  lustre  which  distinguished  the  countenances  of 
Moses  or  the  apostles,  overshadowed  as  they  were  with  tJie  er- 
cellent  glory,  when  compared  with  that  which  is  now  reflected 
on  them  from  the  immediate  presence  of  God  above  ?  And  what 

a  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  b  Eph.  iii.  19.  <•  1  Cor.  xiii.  12. 

4i  I  John  iii.  3.  e  Matt.  v.  48. 


446  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION' 

that  holy  zeal  and  fervent  love,  with  which  these  amazing  inter- 
courses with  the  great  Father  of  spirits  inspired  their  breasts, 
when  compared  with  what  they  now  feel  and  enjoy  in  heaven  ? 
It  is  truly  beyond  conception.  *  As  for  me,'  says  David,  ex- 
ulting in  the  prospect  of  that  world,  *  I  will  behold  thy  face  in 
righteousness:  I  shall  be  satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with  thy  like- 
ness a.'  And  though  '  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be, 
yet  we  know,'  says  the  beloved  disciple  of  Jesus,  '  that  when  he 
shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him  ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he 
is  Z>.' — And  now  from  this  ardent  love  of  God,  this  intimate 
union  with  him,  and  this  perfect  conformity  to  his  likeness, 
there  results, 

4.  And  lastly.  Satisfaction. 

So  the  psalmist  expresses  himself  in  the  passage  just  quoted, 
*  I  shall  be  satisfied,  when  I  awake,  with  thy  likeness.'  And 
this  is  the  substance,  the  quintessence,  the  perfection  of  happi- 
ness. In  the  present  life,  love  is  often  attended  with  painful 
and  restless  desire.  Pleasure  produces  satiety,  and  of  conse- 
quence discontent.  And  excessive  joy,  by  the  unnatural  fer- 
ment it  raises  in  the  spirits,  deprives  us  of  self-possession,  and 
so  in  the  issue  makes  us  unhappy.  Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered 
that  this  is  the  case,  since  tliere  is  a  manifest  inequality  between 
the  passions  of  the  human  heart,  and  the  means  which  men 
xisually  have  recourse  to  for  the  gratification  of  them.  Our  de- 
sires are  proportioned  to  objects  of  the  largest  dimensions,  and 
of  endless  duration  :  but  the  things  of  the  present  life  are  little, 
vain  and  transitory.  Wherefore,  if  we  possessed  all  the  world 
can  give,  we  should  not  have  enough,  there  would  still  remain 
some  wish  to  be  gratified.  And  with  this  account  of  the  mat- 
ter, our  own  continual  feelings  and  experience  well  agree.  For, 
whatever  may  be  the  flattering  pretensions  of  wealth,  honour 
and  pleasure,  by  which,  when  beheld  at  a  distance,  they  impose 
upon  i\\Q  fancy  and  captivate  the  heart ;  we  no  sooner  enjoy  them 
than  they  loudly  tell  us,  that  it  is  not  in  their  power  to  make 
us  happy.  Nay,  though  we  have  the  Chief  Good  for  our  su- 
preme object,  yet,  such  is  the  irregularity  of  our  passions  in  the 
present  imperfect  and  depraved  state,  that  to  find  satisfaction,  in 
the  highest  and  noblest  sense  of  it,  is  absolutely  unattainable. 

a  Psiil.  xvii.  ].j.  /)  1  John  iii.  2. 


OF  RELIGION  m  HEAVEN.  447 

But  it  is  otherwise  in  heaven.  There  the  affections  of  the 
soul,  which  had  treacherously  forsaken  their  first  love,  and  fruit- 
lessly wandered  after  false  delights  aniong  the  creatures  of  sense, 
are  brought  back  to  God,  united  to  him  their  centre,  and  made 
completely  happy  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  favour  and  pre- 
sence. Completely  happy  I  say,  for  there  being  a  perfect  agree- 
ment between  the  capacity  and  the  object,  that  is,  the  desires  of 
the  heart  being  boundless,  and  God  infinite,  there  must  proceed 
from  the  contemplation  and  fruition  of  him,  a  satisfaction  that 
is  entire,  substantial  and  perpetual.  Love  has  there  none  of 
the  languishments  of  restless  desire.  Pleasure  none  of  the  dis- 
gusts of  satiety.  And  joy  none  of  the  tumult  which  attends 
ecstasy.  There  is  no  painful  division  of  the  heart  between  God 
and  the  creature,  no  tremblings  of  the  passions  through  false  at- 
tractions, no  hankering  of  the  mind  after  inferior  bliss.  No  va- 
cuity in  the  soul,  nor  yet  oppression  of  its  powers.  No  wish 
denied,  no  expectation  disappointed.  O  happy  spirits  !  they  are 
ever  contemplating  the  chief  good,  yet  never  wearied  with  their 
contemplations.  They  love,  and  they  rest  in  their  love  a.  They 
possess  a  fulness  of  joy  b,  yet  are  not  satiated  with  their 
joys.  Blessed  satisfaction  indeed  !  This  is  the  highest  fe- 
licity to  which  a  creature  can  attain,  the  utmost  perfection  of 
human  nature.  God  is  all  in  all. — And  now  I  have  only 
to  add, 

Fifthly  and  lastly,  That  the  happiness  of  the  saints  is  eter- 
nal. 

The  short  duration  of  all  sublunary  bliss,  has  ever  been  con- 
sidered as  a  striking  expression  of  the  vanity  of  the  world.  Nor 
can  we,  amidst  the  pleasant  enjoyments  of  life,  give  a  glance 
only  at  this  plain  truth  without  feeling  some  kind  of  emotion. 
The  best  antidote,  however,  against  the  undue  influence  of  such 
a  reflection,  is  a  cheerful  hope  of  this  happy  state  I  have  been 
describing.  But,  if  the  like  idea  were  to  start  up  in  the  minds 
of  the  blessed  above,  or  if  only  a  jealousy  were  to  arise  in  their 
breasts,  that  at  some  distant,  very  distant  period,  they  might 
possibly  be  dismissed  from  heaven,  or  cease  to  exist;  how  would 
the  thought  instantly  cast  a  damp  upon  tlieir  pleasures,  and  con- 
aZepli.  iii.  17.  '' l'=*al.  xvi.  11. 


448  THE  FINAL  rONSUaiMATION 

found  all  their  joys  !  And  the  effect  would  be  the  more  consi- 
derable, as  the  pain  would  be  proportioned  to  the  value  of  what 
they  possess,  and  their  high  rehsh  for  it.  Indeed  were  such  a 
circumstance  possible,  it  would  rather  be  kind  in  God  to  mode- 
rate their  pleasures,  and  suffer  them  to  sicken  upon  their  enjoy- 
ments, that  they  might  be  the  better  reconciled  to  part  with 
them. 

But  it  is  not  so.  As  God  hath,  of  his  infinite  bounty,  pre- 
pared unutterable  joys  for  his  people  in  the  world  to  come, 
fio  he  has  affixed  no  other  term  to  the  duration  of  those  joys, 
than  that  of  his  own  existence.  He  is  himself  eternal,  and 
so  is  that  life  he  gives  them  through  Jesus  Christ  his  Son. 
Amazing  goodness  1  And  this  fact,  so  exceedingly  important, 
stands  as  firmly  established  as  the  reality  of  a  future  state  of 
happiness  itself.  For  it  is  scarce  ever  spoken  of  in  Scripture^ 
but  some  epithet  is  annexed  to  it,  that  should  convey  this  idea. 
The  persons,  habitations,  possessions,  honours,  and  enjoyments 
of  the  saints,  are  all  eternal. 

Here,  the  term  of  our  existence  is  short.  The  beauty  and 
vigour  of  youth  quickly  decline,  and  the  firmness  and  experience 
of  riper  years,  quickly  yield  to  the  assaults  of  sickness,  age  and 
death.  But  in  heaven  the  saints  never  die,  nor  are  they  subject 
to  any  change  or  declension,  but  retain  their  capacities  and  en- 
dowments, both  of  mind  and  body,  perfect  and  entire  for  ever. 
Here,  one  generation  passcth  away,  and  another  comcth  ;  so- 
cieties are  dissolved,  or  else  composed  of  new  members.  But  no 
such  revolutions  happen  in  the  general  assembly  above ;  the 
company  once  met  never  part.  Our  dwellings  on  earth  are  at 
best  but  tabernacles,  set  up  for  the  convenience  of  the  traveller 
on  his  way  home.  Nay,  this  globe  itself,  stately  and  beautiful 
as  the  edifice  is,  must  shortly  be  dissolved,  and,  "  like  the  base- 
less fabric  of  a  vision,  leave  not  a  wreck  behind."  But  the 
house  which  God  has  built  for  his  family  above,  the  palace 
wherein  he  resides,  the  world  where  he  displays  the  perfection 
of  his  glory,  that  is  eternal  in  the  heavens  a.  Our  inheritance 
here  we  hold  on  a  very  uncertain  tenure  :  they  are  sometimes 
snatched  from  us  by  avarice  and  oppression  ;  or,  if  they  escape 
the  hands  of  violence,  death  quickly  comes,  turns  ns  out  of 
a  2  Cot.  v.  1. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  449 

possession,  and  puts  others  in  oiir  room.  But  the  heavenly  in- 
heritance  is  as  durable,  as  it  is  fair  and  extensive  a.  The 
treasures  laid  up  for  the  saints  in  that  better  world,  moth  can- 
not corrilpt,  nor  thieves  break  through  and  steal  b  :  it  is  an  en- 
during substance  c,  and  ajar  more  exceeding,  and  eternal  weight 
of  glory  d.  The  honours  of  the  present  life,  however  they  may 
dazzle  an  ambitious  eye,  are  precarious  and  fleeting.  Princes 
who  shine  in  pomp  and  power,  are,  in  a  few  years,  obliged  to 
descend  from  their  thrones,  lay  aside  their  robes,  and  resign 
their  sceptres  to  their  successors.  But  the  crown  which  the 
Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  puts  upon  the  head  of  the  conquer- 
ing Christian,  ^<ie6'W0^  away  e,  the  kingdom  he  gives  his  little 
flock,  is  never  moved  f.  In  fine,  while  daily  experience  teaches, 
that  sensual  pleasures  are  as  transitory  as  they  are  unsatisfying, 
yea,  that  the  most  refined  enjoyments  of  the  present  life,  have 
their  continual  allays  and  interruptions,  we  are  assured,  that 
the  joys  of  heaven  are  not  only  unutterable  but  eternal.  They 
who  possess  them,  know  that  they  are  perpetual ;  nor  does  the 
most  distant  suspicion  that  they  will  be  interdicted  or  dimi- 
nished, ever  glance  upon  their  happy  minds.  The  sun  that 
lightens  that  world  never  goes  down,  nor  is  one  ray  of  its  glory 
ever  eclipsed  by  an  interposing  cloud.  The  capacities  of  the 
saints  suffer  no  decay,  nor  does  their  relish  for  the  pure  and 
substantial  pleasures  of  paradise,  in  the  least  abate.  So  that 
when  millions  of  years  have  rolled  around,  it  may  still  be  truly 
said  of  them,  that  they  are  but  beginning  their  bliss.  The  end, 
the  period  of  the  Christian's  existence  here,  is  to  him  the  com- 
mencement of  everlasting  life. 

Thus  have  we  taken  a  general  and  transient  view  of  the  hea- 
venly blessedness;  considered — after  what  manner  good  men 
exist  in  that  state — the  perfection  of  their  nature — their  em- 
ployment— the  pleasures  which  result  thence — and  their  eternal 
duration. 

But,  amidst  all  the  light  which  Scripture  has  thrown  upon  this 
important  and  animating  subject,  how  faint,  inadequate  and  con- 
fused are  our  ideas  of  that  world  !  Indeed  the  most  exalted  de- 
scription that  can  possibly  be  given  of  it,  falls  infinitely  short  of 

a  1  Pet.  i.  4.  h  Matt.  vi.  20.  c  Heb.  x.  34.. 

d  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  el  Fet.  v.  4-.  /Heb.  xil.  28, 

VOL.  I.  F  f 


450  THE  FINAL  CONSUMMATION 

what  it  really  is.  So  lie  liatli  assured  us  who  was  once  cau<jiit 
up  into  paradise,  and  felt  awhile  the  transporting  joys  of  that 
blissful  place  a.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  says  he,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  which  God 
hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him  b.  The  eye  may  have 
seen  a  great  deal,  the  ear  may  have  heard  of  more  than  the  eye 
hath  seen,  and  fancy  may  represent  to  the  mind  scenes  far  more 
beautiful  and  glorious,  than  either  the  eye  hath  beheld  or  the 
ear  reported.  But  the  utmost  efforts  of  imagination,  assisted 
by  all  the  light  which  Scripture  and  experience  furnish,  fail  in 
the  attempt  to  give  us  a  true  idea  of  the  glories  of  heaven.  Let 
us  nov/  then  close  the  whole, 

III.   With  some  improvement  of  what  has  been  said.     And, 
1.   How  great,  how  inexpressibly  great,  are  our  obligations 
to  the  grace  of  God  I 

This  eternal  life  I  have  been  describing,  is  the  gift  of  God 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  as  we  learn  from  the  verse  fol- 
lowing the  text.  Benefits  conferred  on  the  miserable  and  un- 
deserving, and  benefits  conferred  on  them  at  a  great  expence, 
call  aloud  for  gratitude.  So  we  commonly  reason  upon  acts  of 
benevolence  among  men.  But  O  I  what  is  the  debt  of  grati- 
tude we,  any  of  us,  in  the  most  extraordinary  instance,  owe  to 
a  fellow-creature,  when  put  in  the  scale  with  that  we  owe  to  our 
Divine  Benefactor?  The  gift  he  bestows  is,  as  you  have  seen, 
immensely  great.  Its  value  cannot  be  computed,  all  human 
measures  fail.  If  the  sum  total  of  worldly  bliss  and  glory  were 
to  become  the  patrimony  of  one  man,  that  man  would  be  poor, 
abject  and  miserable,  in  comparison  witji  him  who  holds  the  low- 
est rank  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  We  are  not  indeed  at  pre- 
sent in  possession  of  this  large  and  fair  inheritance,  but  we  have 
unquestionable  evidence  of  its  reality.  It  lies  beyond  the  line 
of  time,  but  it  is  not  far  off.  The  earnest  of  it  is  sometimes 
afforded  the  Christian  in  his  way  to  it,  and  the  enjoyment  of  it 
is  secured  to  him  by  the  promise  of  a  God  who  cannot  lie. 
These  are  cheerful  considerations,  and  may  well  dispose  our 
hearts  to  thankfuhiess  and  praise. 

But  how  is  our  wonder  heightened,  and  our  gratitude  in^ 
flamed,  when  to  the  greatness  of  the  gift,  we  add  a  reflection 
a  2  Cor.  xii.  2—4.  b  1  Cor.  ii.  0. 


0¥  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  451 

on  the  demerit  of  tlie  receiver!  Had  we,  like  the  angels,  pre- 
served our  innocence,  the  good  news  of  this  farther  accession  to 
our  iiappiness  in  another  state,  would  doubtless  have  been  joy- 
fully received  and  ingenuously  acknowledged.  But  what  shall 
we  say?  how  shall  we  express  our  astonishment?  when  we  see 
human  guilt,  impotence  and  wretchedness,  become  objects  of  di- 
vine pity,  friendship  and  love.  Surely  that  grace  must  be  ad- 
mirable, which  does  not  only  relieve  the  miserable;  but  makes 
thera  perfectly  and  eternally  happy  ! — which  does  not  only  bear 
■with  offenders,  and  punish  theiji  less  than  their  deserts;  but 
buries  all  their  guilt  in  oblivion,  and  accepts  them  as  innocent ! 
— which  does  not  only  hold  back  rebels  from  the  hands  of  pro- 
voked justice  ;  but  exalts  them  to  heaven,  and  crowns  them  with 
v.nfading  glory  !  Admirable  grace  indeed  !  which,  of  its  own 
pure  good-will,  pours  a  profusion  of  bounty  on  some,  whilst 
others  suffer  the  just  consefjuence  of  their  sins. — But  is  this  all .'' 
No. 

There  is  another  consideration,  which  yet  farther  magnifies 
the  goodness  of  God,  and  gives  it  a  lustre  almost  too  bright  and 
dazzling  to  be  beheld  by  our  weak  eyes;  and  that  is,  the  prodi- 
gious expence  at  which  this  free  gift  of  divine  love  is  dispensed 
to  us.  God  spared  not  his  onm  Son,  but  delivered  him  tip  to 
death  for  our  sakes,  that  through  him  we  might  thus  freely  in- 
herit all  tilings  a.  Go,  Christian,  to  mount  Calvary,  there  see 
your  Saviour  extended  on  a  cross,  pouring  out  his  vital  blood  as 
the  price  of  your  redemption;  and  then  say,  whether  the  eter- 
nal inheritance,  received  as  the  fruit  of  his  death,  is  not  the  no- 
blest expression  of  love  which  Omnipotence  itself  could  give? 
Nor  can  I  help  observing  here,  that  as,  on  the  one  hand,  these 
measures  which  God  hath  taken  to  provide  for  our  everlasting 
happiness,  reflect  the  highest  honour  on  his  goodness;  so,  on  the 
other,  they  serve  to  heighten  and  magnify  our  conceptions  of 
the  heavenly  blessedness  itself  beyond  any  thing  that  hath  been, 
or  can  possibly  be,  said  concerning  it.  For  how  great  must  that 
bliss  and  glory  be,  which  is  obtained  for  us  at  so  immense  an 
expence?  The  Son  of  God  becomes  a  man,  and  dies,  that  men 
may  become  the  sons  of  God,  and  live  for  ever  ! — Be  your 
hearts  then,  Christians,  dissolved  in  gratitude  and  praise  I  and 

a  ivum.  viu.  oi. 


452  THE  FINAL  CONSU.^I.^IATION 

begin  here  on  earth  the  song,  which  you  will  ere  long  sing  in 
concert  with  angels  above,  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain, 
to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  a?id  strength,  and 
honour,  and  glory,  and  blessing  a. 

2.  If  we  have  such  glorious  prospects  as  these  before  us,  how 
should  our  affections  be  moderated  to  the  world,  and  all  its  con- 
cerns and  enjoyments  ! 

No  sober  man,  methinks,  even  though  we  put  religion  out  of 
the  question,  can  help  being  afflicted  and  surprised,  when  he 
looks  around  him,  and  observes  what  a  prodigious  effect  the  lit- 
tle things  of  this  life  have  upon  the  generality  of  mankind.  On 
the  generality,  did  I  say?  I  may  add,  on  every  individual  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree.  Ah  !  how  eagerly  do  we  catch  at  sha- 
dows !  and  how  miserably  are  we  affrighted  at  what  cannot  hurt 
us  !  How  do  we  spend  the  fire  of  our  passions  in  the  uncertain 
pursuit  of  that  which  disappoints,  if  not  torments ;  while  the 
feeblest  efforts  to  acquire  the  greatest  good,  quickly  try  our 
strength  and  exhaust  our  spirits  !  Strange  !  Will  not  reason 
and  reflection  convince  us  of  our  folly?  Will  not  observation 
and  experience  bring  iis  to  our  senses  ?  Shall  two  of  the  plain- 
est truths  that  were  ever  reported  in  the  ear  of  man,  and  which 
WG  dare  not  deny  or  even  dispute,  that  the  world  cannot  satisfy, 
and  that,  if  it  could,  a  few  years  will  deprive  us  of  it ;  shall 
these  plain  truths,  I  say,  be  disregarded  and  despised?  Yes. 
So  it  is,  so  it  will  be,  while  we  walk  by  sight  not  by  faith  ;  while 
we  look  to  the  things  which  are  temporal,  and  turn  away  our 
eyes  from  those  which  are  eternal.  Faith,  and  faith  only,  will 
break  the  charm,  rouse  us  from  the  delusion,  and  restore  us  to 
our  reason.  O  the  infinite  utility  and  importance  of  a  divine 
faith  ! 

It  is  your  happiness.  Christian,  to  possess  that  faith.  Take 
up  the  glass  then,  apply  it  to  the  great  objects  I  have  been  de- 
scribing, and  tell  us  the  efl'ect. — You  sec  the  joys  of  heaven. 
They  arc  real.  They  are  near.  They  are  yours. — And  now, 
satisfied  through  grace  of  your  interest  in  the  favour  of  God, 
and  struck  with  the  prospect  of  those  great  enjoyments  before 
you,  what  think  you  of  the  world?  Is  it  that  important  thing 
the  generality  of  mankind  take  it  to  be  ?  Ah  !   no.     It  appears 

a  Rev.  V.  12. 


OF  RELIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  453 

little,  vain  and  trifliiiff.  You  wonder  it  should  have  so  lono- 
engrossed  your  iieart.  Your  passion  for  it  abates,  your  indif- 
ference to  it  increases.  Its  power  is  broken.  It  is  now  too 
feeble  a  thing  to  subdue  your  conscience,  or  even  controul  your 
joys.  Your  happiness  no  longer  lies  at  the  mercy  of  its  deceit- 
ful and  precarious  promises.  While  you  relish  the  comforts  of 
life,  and  have  a  just  sense  of  their  value;  you  stretch  not  every 
nerve  to  possess  a  feather,  nor  hazard  your  most  essential  in- 
terests to  acquire  momentary  bliss.  And  while  you  feel  the 
disappointments  and  troubles  of  life,  you  fall  not  an  ignomini- 
ous sacrifice  to  their  rage,  but  preserve  a  composure  and  steadi- 
ness of  mind,  truly  heroic  and  exemplary.  Happy  temper 
this  !  an  acquisition  far  more  noble  and  important  than  that  of 
the  whole  world  !  Well !  such  is  the  effect  of  a  lively  faith,  and 
cheerful  hope  of  eternal  life.  O  let  us  then,  who  are  heirs  of 
God,  and  joint  heirs  ivith  Jesus  Christ,  be  persuaded  to  give 
diligence  to  make  our  calling  and  election  sure ;  and  more  fre- 
quently to  realize  these  great  and  glorious  objects.  So  shall 
we  be  superior  to  the  frowns  and  flatteries  of  this  vain  world. 
So  shall  we  be  quickened  to  the  unwearied  discharge  of  our 
several  duties.  And  so  shall  we  adorn  our  Christian  profession 
with  the  amiable  fruits  of  patience,  contentment  and  cheerful- 
ness, of  purity,  love  and  obedience.     Once  more, 

3.  And  lastly.  What  infinite  importance  docs  the  considera- 
tion of  heaven  reflect  upon  religion  in  general ! 

Eternal  life,  it  is  true,  is  the  gift  of  God.  But  it  is  not  to 
be  enjoyed,  unless  we  humbly  and  thankfully  accept  it  in  the 
way  he  has  thought  fit  to  bestow  it,  and  are  prepared  for  the 
final  participation  of  it  by  the  gracious  influence  of  his  Spirit. 
He  that  believeth  a?id  is  baptized,  shall  be  saved  a.  Except  a 
man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God  b.  They 
are  the  words  of  him,  through  whose  hands,  and  at  the  expence 
of  whose  precious  blood,  the  blessings  of  grace  and  glory  are 
distributed  to  guilty  men.  And  can  you  be  content.  Sirs,  to 
forego  the  joys  of  heaven,  for  the  momentary  gratifications  of 
sin  and  sense  ?  Or  if  you  can,  is  there  nothing  alarming  in  the 
tremendous  consequences  of  your  exclusion  from  that  world,  I 
mean  your  suffering  the  torments  of  hell?  For,  if  we  will  bc- 

a  Mark  xvi.  16.  6  Johu  iii.  3. 


454  THE  FINAL  COXSU.M?.IATION 

licve  the  Scriptures,  tliere  is  no  medium  between  these  two 
.states.  Awful  consideration  !  Let  me  therefore  entreat  you, 
by  the  mercies  of  God,  by  the  bowels  of  Christ,  by  the  terrors 
of  the  law,  by  the  grace  of  the  gospel,  by  the  debt  you  owe  to 
your  immortal  souls,  in  short,  by  every  thing  that  is  dear  to  you 
both  here  and  hereafter,  seriously  to  consider  these  things.  Be- 
hold, now  is  the  accepted  time ;  behold,  now  is  the  day  of  salva- 
tion a.  Kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry,  and  ye  perish  from  the 
way,  if  his  wrath  be  kindled  but  a  little  b.  Cast  down  the  wea- 
])ons  of  your  hostility  at  his  feet,  and  be  assured,  that,  as  his 
heart  is  made  of  gentleness  and  love,  he  will  in  no  wise  reject 
the  humble  returning  penitent. 

Here  I  might,  yet  farther  to  conciliate  your  regards,  with 
the  blessing  of  God,  to  these  interesting  matters,  lead  you  into 
a  pleasing  view  of  the  nature  of  religion,  lay  before  you  the 
evidence  of  its  truth,  and  delineate  its  various  excellent  proper- 
ties, and  important  uses.  I  might  tell  you  whence  it  comes, 
through  what  channel  it  is  communicated  to  us,  the  means  by 
which  it  is  improved  and  preserved,  the  comfort  it  affords  in 
the  hour  of  death,  and  its  happy  consummation  in  heaven. 
Animating  considerations  these  !  But  as  I  have  dwelt  at  large 
upon  them  in  the  preceding  discourses,  it  shall  suffice  here  to 
call  up  the  leading  ideas  of  the  several  discourses  to  your  view. 

The  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  word,  but  in  poiver  c.  Reli- 
gion consists  not  in  appearance  and  profession  only,  but  in  the 
cheerful  and  prevailing  subjection  of  the  heart  to  the  dominion 
of  God,  exerted  over  the  soul,  through  the  mild  and  gentle  ad- 
ministration of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. — Its  reality  is  capable 
of  the  clearest  proof,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself,  the 
testimony  of  Scripture  concerning  it,  and  the  consent  of  the 
generality  of  mankind  in  all  ages :  so  that  their  madness  and 
folly  \s  inexcusable,  who  deny  the  power  of  godliness  d. — And, 
however,  as  to  external  circumstances,  it  may  assume  different 
appearances,  yet  it  is  one  and  the  same  thing,  in  all  who  are  so 
liappy  as  to  possess  it;  for,  in  regard  of  that  humility,  cheer- 
fulness, purity  and  love,  which  the  gospel  teaches  and  inspires, 
^food  men  have  all  of  them,  in  their  degree,  been  made  to  drink 

a  2  Cor.  vi.  3.  b  Psal.  ii.  12. 

c  Dis.  I.  d  Dis.  II. 


or  IlKLIGION  IN  HEAVEN.  455 

into  one  spirit  a. — Nor  is  it  a  matter  of  trifliiif^  consequence. 
It  is  the  one  thing  needful  b :  far  more  important  than  any  other 
concern  whatever;  that  without  which  a  man  stands  exposed  to 
every  kind  of  danger  here,  and,  to  the  just  wrath  of  God  here- 
after.— Difficulties  do  indeed  attend  the  experience  and  profes- 
sion of  it  in  the  present  life :  lor  he  who  will  be  a  man  of  reli- 
gion must  deny  himself,  take  np  his  cross  and  follow  Christ  c. 
But  these  difficulties,  of  whatever  kind  or  degree,  should  not 
unduly  discourage,  much  less  alarm  and  terrify  us ;  for  they 
may  be  surmounted.  My  yoke,  says  Christ,  7*5  easy,  my  bur~ 
den  is  light  d.  He  requires  nothing  of  us  but  it  is  our  duty 
and  interest  to  comply  with.  We  are  under  infinite  obligations 
to  his  grace.  He  has  promised  to  assist  and  support  us  amidst 
all  our  trials.  Experience  has  confirmed  the  truth  of  his  pro- 
mises. And  after  all,  hard  as  his  service  may  seem  under  some 
particular  circumstances,  it  is  much  easier  than  the  yoke  of  sin. 
— But  it  is  not  the  only  commendation  of  religion,  that  it  will 
do  a  man  no  real  harm  ;  for  it  will  most  certaiidy  do  him,  even 
in  this  life,  the  greatest  good.  The  ways  of  wisdom  are  ways 
of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are  peace  e.  It  furnishes 
the  best  antidote  against  the  principal  causes  of  uneasiness  and 
distress.  It  pours  the  richest  comforts  and  joys  into  the  heart. 
And  there  is  solid  peace  and  satisfaction  in  the  practice  of  its 
several  duties. — And,  as  the  cheerful  practice  of  the  duties  of 
religion,  aftbrds  the  most  substantial,  and  indeed  the  only  suffi- 
cient evidence  of  inward  piety,  so  he  who  thus  hath  his  fruit 
unto  holiness  f  who  lives  righteously,  soberly  and  godly,  in  this 
present  world,  will  not  fail  to  become  truly  venerable,  and  ex- 
tensively useful. 

It  is  also  a  further  proof  of  the  excellence  of  religion,  that 
it  IS  from  above  g,  the  effect  of  a  divine  influence  or  energy 
exerted  on  the  heart.  So  it  should  seem,  from  a  review  of  the 
manner  in  which  it  usually  rises  into  existence.  A  considera- 
tion, however,  of  the  depraved  state  of  human  nature,  the  in- 
finite difficulty  attending  the  great  work  of  renewing  the  heart, 
and  the  clear  and  express  testimony  of  Scripture  upon  the  mat' 

a  Dis.  III.  b  Uis.  IV.  c  Dis.  V. 

d  Dis.  VI.  a  Uis.  VII,  f  Dia.  VIII. 

1'  Dis.  IX. 


456  THE  FINAL  CON.SUM3IATION 

tcr;  I  say,  a  dispassionate  consideration  of  these  things,  must 
surely  put  the  question  beyond  dispute,  with  a  truly  serious 
mind. — In  hke  manner,  the  respect  which  reUgion  hath  to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  grand  medium  of  it,  reflects  the 
greatest  importance  upon  it.  JVe  are  created  in  him  a.  It  is 
the  fruit  of  his  mediation,  communicated  to  us  by  his  Spirit, 
produced,  nourished,  and  improved  by  the  faith  of  his  gospel, 
and  is  itself  the  impress  of  his  image  on  our  hearts  and  lives. 
— Nor  has  the  great  Author  of  this,  the  noblest  gift  ever  be- 
stowed on  the  children  of  men,  failed  to  provide  means  for  our 
improvement  in  religion.  As  he  hath  exhorted  us  to  gi'ow  in 
grace  b,  so  to  that  end  he  has  urged  upon  us,  by  the  most 
pressing  motives,  the  general  duties  of  watchfulness,  self-ex- 
amination and  consideration,  and  the  more  special  duties  of 
reading  the  Scriptures,  attending  the  worship  of  God,  Chris- 
tian fellowship,  and  prayer. — And  since  these  means  will  of 
themselves  prove  ineffectual,  he  hath  encouraged  us  to  look  for 
that  influence  from  above,  which,  like  the  deiu  c  that  falls  from 
the  heavens  gradually,  imperceptibly,  seasonably,  and  some- 
times in  a  very  large  degree  descends  on  the  Christian,  and  so 
refreshes  his  heart,  confirms  his  faith,  makes  him  fruitful,  and 
renders  him  truly  amiable. — Nay,  such  is  his  concern  for  the 
welfare  of  his  people,  that  he  converts  their  afilictions  into 
blessings,  and  makes  them  at  once  the  occasions  of  trying  the 
genuineness  of  their  religion,  and  displaying  its  utility.  Be 
still,  is  his  language,  and  know  that  I  am  God  d :  so  exciting 
them  to  patience  and  constancy,  by  a  consideration  of  the  exis- 
tence, perfections,  providence  and  grace  of  God,  as  they  are 
held  up  to  our  view  in  the  gospel  of  Christ.  And,  thus  rejoi- 
cing in  tribulation,  we  are  animated  to  perseverance  in  our  pro- 
fession. Though  sometxmesjaint,  yet,  roused  by  a  just  apprehen- 
sion of  the  tremendous  consequences  of  yielding  to  the  enemy, 
and  inspired  with  resolution  by  a  firm  persuasion  of  the  good- 
ness of  the  cause,  the  effectual  support  promised  us,  and  the 
glories  of  the  approaching  victory,  ice  pursue  e. — Nor  will 
divine  grace  suffer  the  real  Christian  to  fail  of  the  happiness 
he  hath  in  prospect ;  for  he  who  hath  begun  a  good  work  in  him, 

a  Dis.  X.  b  Dis.  XI.  c  Dis.  XII. 

d  Dis.  XIII.  e  Dis.  XIV. 


OF  RF.LICION  IN  HEAVEN.  457 

will  perform  it  until  the  clay  of  Jesus  Christ  a.  From  the  na- 
ture of  religion  itself",  and  the  promises  made  to  it,  its  success- 
ful issue  may  be  certainly  concluded. Reli<^ion,  thus  traced 

thi-ough  its  various  pleasures,  duties,  exercises  and  trials,  ap- 
pears amiable,  useful  and  important.  But,  what  additional  glo- 
ries does  it  exhibit  in  the  countenance  of  the  dying  Christian, 
who,  walking  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  fears 
no  evil!  And  why?  The  Lord  his  Shepherd  is  with  him,  and 
his  rod  and  staff  defend  and  comfort  him  b. — And  though  we 
take  our  leave  of  him  at  the  borders  of  the  other  world,  and 
are  not  permitted  to  enter  with  him,  and  see  the  glories  with 
which  he  is  there  crowned  ;  yet  from  what  has  now  been  said, 
we  may,  we  must  conclude,  that  that,  of  all  other  things,  is 
most  interesting  and  important,  which  hath  for  its  end,  for  its 
final  reward,  everlasting  life  c. 

And  now,  is  there  a  man  who,  amidst  these  considerations, 
can  find  it  in  his  heart  to  treat  the  great  concerns  of  religion 
with  indifference  and  contempt  ?  If  there  is,  all  I  can  do  is  to 
mingle  compassion  for  his  madness  and  folly,  with  the  resent- 
ment I  feel  at  his  profancness  and  impiety;  and  most  earnestly 
to  deprecate  the  vengeance  he  is  thus  drawing  down  on  his 
guilty  head.  But  I  hope  better  things  of  you  to  whom  I  speak, 
and  things  which  accompany  scdvation  d.  You,  my  friends, 
have,  I  trust,  tasted  the  pleasures  of  religion,  or  however  are 
excited  by  what  you  have  heard,  to  an  eager  pursuit  after  them. 
While,  therefore,  I  affectionately  commend  the  humble  enqui- 
rer, to  the  farther  influence  of  divine  grace,  permit  me,  now  at 
the  close  of  the  whole,  to  congratulate  you  on  the  joyful  pro- 
spect before  you,  of  the  final  consummation  of  your  hopes,  in  the 
realms  of  light  and  glory  above. 

u  Dis.  XV.  b  Dis.  XVI. 

c  Di^.  xVlI.  d  lleb.  vi.  9. 


END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


Cameron  <.\"  Hume,  I'ruitc-n 
Berwick. 


Princeton  Theoloqical  Semmary  U^^^ 


1    1012  01196  4774 


^1 


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