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THE VOEKS

THOMAS M'CHIE, D. D.

EDITED BV HIS SON

THOMAS M'CHIE, D.D. LL.D.

VOL. IV.

REVIEW OF “TALES OF MY LANDLORD”

ON THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH: AND SERMONS

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCLVII

Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2018 with funding from ‘
Princeton Theological Seminary Library

https ;//archive.org/details/worksofthomasmcr04mcri

REVIEW

‘‘TALES OF MY LANDLORD.”

PART I

Of all the classes of readers in this hook-reading age and country,
there is none more numerous, or less difficult to please, than the readers
of novels. This is a very fortunate circumstance for book-makers and
book-venders, or, as they may nowadays be more properly termed, the
wholesale and retail dealers in books ; as it affords them an expeditious
and lucrative trade, which they can carry on at small expense, and
which remains steady and open, even when the market stagnates and
is overstocked, for want of demand in the other articles of literature.
The great object of habitual readers of novels is to kill time, and they are
not very scrupulous as to the means which they employ to rid themselves
of this troublesome companion. Their minds are vacant, and nature
abhors a vacuum. There is nothing which they dread more than being
left to serious reflection, or thrown upon their own internal resources.
Their feelings, though often morbid, and requiring force to excite them,
are not delicate ; nor is their taste fastidious. The task of those whose
employment it is to afford them amusement is not therefore one of
great difficulty. It requires no superior powers of invention, or of wit,
to dress up a story which will gratify readers of this stamp, and raise
the wished-for alternations of emotion in the giddy breasts, or perhaps
brains,

- “ of th’ unthinking rabble.

Giggling, sobbing, at each frantic fable.”

But the strongest and the most quick-set appetite will be palled by
indulgence, and will require to be whetted and humoured by nicer food
or nicer preparation. This was the origin of the art and philosophy of
cookery, and a similar cause has led to the improvement of that branch
of the art of writing to which we refer. When we say this, we would
not be understood as meaning to insinuate that all those fictitious

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

works which rise above mediocrity have originated from such inferior
motives. We do not consider Count Rumford as occupying the same
rank with ordinary writers on the culinary art, and we do not wish to
confound sober reformers with demagogues who would debauch the
minds and inflame the passions of the mob, to gain their own selflsh
and unprincipled ends. We are willing to allow that there are indivi¬
duals who commence novel-writers with the more generous and disin¬
terested design of reforming the public taste, and of furnishing more
rational and reflned gratiflcation to a numerous class of readers. To
such writers we are ready to give all the praise that is due. And
indeed, when we consider the mass of insipid, stupid, and pernicious
productions with which our circulating libraries are stuffed, and which
are daily tossed from hand to hand until they are literally worn to
tatters, we cannot but think that a man of genius and taste, who con¬
descends to join such company, displays at once a great degree of
courage and of self-denial, and we are not greatly surprised to And him
choosing to send the offspring of his fancy into the world without his
name, or under a false one, contented with enjoying his reputation, and
the other fruits of his labour, incognito, and concealing himself from the
public by means of a complicated piece of literary machinery.

Most of our readers must have heard of, and not a few of them, it is
probable, have read those popular novels wliich lately appeared in this
northern part of the island, and which, from the peculiar manners
which they represented, and the ability of their execution, attracted the
attention even of those who have no predilection for this species of com¬
position. The earliest of these cannot be called a finished piece of
writing. The principal character in it wants those great qualities which
are essential to a hero ; his conduct justly subjects him to the suspicion
of cowardice ; and he becomes a deserter and a rebel, without the
excuse of being actuated by principle and conviction; — a piece of
management on the part of the author, which can only be accounted for
on the supposition, that he was not unwilling that the chief honour
should be transferred to another individual, whom, even in these times,
it would not have been prudent or becoming to have proclaimed as the
hero of this story. Yet, in spite of these and other faults, by his
picturesque descriptions of Highland scenery, by his striking, though
sometimes exaggerated, delineations of Highland manners, and, above
all, by skilfully combining his fabulous narrative with the interesting
history of the Rebellion, and the fates of the adventurous and unfortu¬
nate Chevalier, the author has given an interest to the work which
cannot fail to make it be read with pleasure, long after the charm pro¬
duced by the novelty of its appearance has ceased. Next appeared
“The Astrologer,” disdaining to derive aid from any adventitious
association with real history, and scarcely deigning to symbolise with
the speech and manners of common life. Trusting to the preterna¬
tural powers with which she was endowed, this heroine came forth with

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

more than Amazonian courage, and by the waving of her magic wand,
and the unearthly sounds which accompanied it, enchanted and sub¬
dued all that came within the reach of her potent and irresistible spell.
In truth, the picture of that singular and now nearly extinct race of
beings, the gypseys, is inimitably drawn, and their character tlxroughout
the piece is supported with the utmost propriety and consistency. We
do not therefore wonder at the popularity of Guy M annering in Scot¬
land, where the language in which a great part of the work is written,
and the manners it describes, are known ; but we must confess that we
are somewhat at a loss to account for the fact, of which we have been
assured, that it is equally popular in England, where we are persuaded
not one word in three is understood by the generality of readers, and
where we should think the entertainment derived from the story must
have been in no small degree marred by the continual exercise of turn¬
ing over the two quarto volumes of Dr Jamieson’s Scottish Dictionary, or,
when these were not to be had, the glossary to Allan Ramsay, or Robert
Burns’s Poems. Lastly appeared The Antiquary. The popularity
acquired by its predecessors was sufficient to put this work in motion ;
but it became stationary as soon as the impulse which they imparted to
it was spent. Whether it is that the author, having exhausted his
powers by the last effort, had not allowed them sufficient time to
recruit ; or whether, from certain leanings in his own mind, he was
unwilling to make the Antiquary truly ridiculous j or whether (which
we are rather inclined to think is the truth) antiquaries are a race of
beings to whom the public are so completely indifferent, that it is
impossible to interest them in a story that turns chiefly upon them and
their pursuits ; — the fact is certain, that, notwithstanding all the
humour of Edie Ochiltree (and it is not small), and notwithstanding
the excellence of particular scenes, the story w^as deemed tame and
fatiguing ; and the chief thing that will now induce any to read it
(those who live on novels always excepted), is the information on the
title-page, that it was written by the author of Waverley and Giiy
Mannering.

Vhe have chosen to introduce ourselves in this way to Tales of My
Landlord, because we are convinced that they are written by the author
of the works which we have just noticed. For what reason this infor¬
mation has been withheld, it is unnecessary to inquire. Perhaps it was
on account of the fact stated above ; perhaps the author intended to
pay a compliment to the reigning passion for novelty ; perhaps he
wished merely to gratify his own humour. Our opinion as to the point
of identity of original is founded on internal evidence. The resemblance
is strongly marked, both on the general features and in the minuter
lines. We can trace it in that wonderful talent for description which
the author almost uniformly displays, whether he wishes to paint
human beings or natural scenery, — the sublimity of a battle, or the
brawlings of a taproom, — the movements of a hero, or the fooleries of a

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOKD.

clown. We can trace it in the different kinds of character which he
brings forward for exhibition, and in the partiality with which he
selects, for his more careful and minute delineation, such as are to be
found in low life. We can trace it in those marks of haste and care¬
lessness which are every now and then reminding us, that he either will
not, or cannot, take time to do justice to his own powers, and that he
writes without having in his mind’s eye that prospective arrangement
which is necessary to prevent his story from having, in some parts, an
unfinished aspect, and from presenting us, in others, with very awkward
attempts to obviate the difficulties that his want of foresight has occa¬
sioned. And, finally, we can trace it in the uncommon ease, and the
purity, if we may use the expression, with which the Scottish language
is written — a quality in which the author has no compeer among those
who have made the same attempt, and which resembles, to compare
small things with great, the facility and correctness with which the
learned in the sixteenth century wrote in the ancient language of Rome.

In the work before us we are presented with two tales. The one is
comprised in the first volume ; the other occupies the remaining three
volumes. The first tale will, we doubt not, be interesting to those who
are admirers of the local habits and opinions which are said to have
existed a century ago in that district of the Scottish borders where the
scene is laid, and which are chiefly known to the public by means of the
writings of Walter Scott. From the natural and easy manner in which
he describes these, the author appears to be a native of that place, or
one who, from his infancy, has been accustomed to the relation of its
traditionary history. With respect to the story, we cannot say much.
The author himself seems to have been anxious to have done with it,
and hudilles it up at last in rather a careless manner ; and we may be
pardoned for following his example. Hobbie Elliot is a well-di-awn
character. Earnscliff, like most of the author’s principal characters,
does not do much to give us a high opinion of him, although he says
many good things. Of the Black Dwarf (whom some have taken for
the hero of the tale) we shall say nothing, — only we do not think him
a more unnatural character than Ellieslaw ; nor do any of the misan¬
thropic ravings of the former appear to us so incredible as the epistle
which the latter is made to address to his daughter after the detection
of his plots. The attempt to give interest to the story, by connecting
it with the rebellion in 1715, fails as completely as the rebellion itself
did, and serves only to embarrass the author. The undisguised manner
in which the conspirators talk of their projected insurrection in the
presence of Ratclifle, even before they had formally resolved on it, and
when they were aware that the better and greater part of the popula¬
tion around them was friendly to the government, represents them as
greater madmen than we imagine the Borderers ever were. After this,
the laboured description of the revulsion of spirits felt by them when
they came to the decisive step, although it would have been strik¬
ing in other circumstances, has something affected in it. At all

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

events, when they had taken the leap, it is quite inexcusable to make a
fool of such a respectable and sensible man as Ratcliffe appears to have
been, by supposing that he would make a grave and serious speech,
with the view of recalling such men to their allegiance, unless the author
wished to exhibit him as so puritanical in his principles as to make the
affair a matter of conscience, and to think it a duty to give his testimony
against such courses ; in which case (if our ideas of the character of the
Borderers, especially when they were heated with wine, are not very in¬
correct) these gentlemen would have sent him, as Lauderdale did his pre¬
decessors, to make his dying speech and testimony on the nearest gallows.
In short, the Black Dwarf bears sufficient marks of being a child of the
same family with the Astrologer ; but, whether received before his birth
or after it, he has had the misfortune to meet with some great injury,
and is a dwarf. — We now go on to the second tale, or rather history as
it should be called, which, from the nature of its contents, as well as
its size, demands more ample and serious consideration than the pre¬
ceding one could claim.

On opening the second volume, and while we hesitated in turning the
first leaf, we could not but feel surprised that the author should have
permitted himself to allow either the publisher or the printer to do any¬
thing in such bad taste as to repeat the foolish lines, which must have
been foisted, without his knowledge, into the title-page of the first
volume, and also the quotation on the reverse in Spanish and English.
Having ventured to turn the leaf, we were most agreeably disappointed
at not meeting, as we had dreaded, with the huge bulk of Jedediah
Cleishhotham, and being overwhelmed with his somniferous eloquence.
This might help to increase the pleasure which we received from reading
the preliminary discourse of Mr Patrick Pattieson. We do tliink that
it is written in the very best style, and that it forms an introduction to
the tale at once ingenious and appropriate. With some of his reflec¬
tions towards the close of it we do not indeed entirely coincide, as will
appear in the sequel ; but as we are desirous to enter upon his story in
good terms with him, we shall pass them over at present.

To enable our readers to understand the remarks which we are about
to offer, it will be necessary to lay before them an outline of the story,
wliich is called Old Mortality, to intimate, that the principal materials
of which it is composed were derived from the information of an aged
Presbyterian wanderer who went by that name ; although, in fact, by
far the greater part of it is of such a quality as cannot be supposed to
have been furnished by that or by any other zealous and venerable
Covenanter. The story is supposed to commence in the summer of 1679,
immediately before that rising of the Presbyterians in the west of Scot¬
land which was suppressed by their defeat at Bothwell Bridge. Henry
Morton, the hero of the piece, was the son of a country gentleman in
Lanarkshire, who, during the civil wars between Charles I. and the
Parliaments, had borne arms for the latter, and of course was a zealous
Whig and Presbyterian. By his death, young Morton was left to the

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

care of an uncle, a miserly Avretcli, who neglected the education and
repressed the ardent spirit of his nephew. Henry Morton was a Pres¬
byterian because his father had been one before him, and he attended
the sermons of a minister of that persuasion who had accepted the
Indulgence because his uncle did so ; but he took no farther interest in
the affairs of that religious body, than by condemning the oppressions
which they suffered, which was balanced by his accusing them, in their
turn, of extravagance and fanaticism. But if he was undecided and
lukewarm in politics and in religion, Morton was cordial and devoted in
his attachment to Miss Edith Bellenden, a young lady, of course, of
great beauty and accomplishments, who lived in the neighbourhood of
his uncle, under the tutelage of her grandmother. He had reason to
conclude that his addresses were not indifferent to the person who wms
the object of them; but the keen Tory and High-Church principles of the
old lady presented a formidable obstacle to his success, which was height¬
ened by his having the accomplished Lord Evandale for a rival. Hav¬
ing gained the prize for shooting at a mark, at a weaponschaw or military
review in the neighbouring village, Morton, according to custom, entertain¬
ed the company at the inn, where he met with a stranger, who requested
leave to accompany him home, as he meant to travel the same road. The
stranger turned out to be John Balfour of Burley, who had just escaped
from Fife after being engaged in the assassination of Archbishop Sharp.
Concealing this circumstance, Burley acquainted Morton with his name,
and requested accommodation for the night in his uncle’s house, as he
was in danger of falling into the hands of one of those bands of military
who traversed the country to apprehend such as were obnoxious to
Government. Although extremely reluctant to comply with it, Morton
could not deny this request to one who had formerly been the intimate
friend and companion in arms of his father, and he lodged him in an
outhouse. A few days after, a party of soldiers paid a visit to the place,
and Morton having acknowledged, rather sillily, what he had done, was
made prisoner, and carried to the castle of Tillietudlem, the residence
of Miss Edith Bellenden, where Colonel Grahame of Claverhouse was
expected next day with his regiment. Claverhouse, after being made
acquainted with the circumstances, was about to order the prisoner to
be instantly shot, but finally yielded to spare his life at the intercession
of Lord Evandale, whose interest Miss Bellenden had bespoke in his
favour. Morton was present as a prisoner at the battle of Drumclog or
Loudon Hill, where Claverhouse was defeated. Having obtained his
liberty, resentment for recent injuries roused his patriotism (this is not
the author’s phrase) ; he joined the victorious Covenanters, was chosen
one of their officers, and admitted to their council of war. He now
exerted himself in organising their army, and in accommodating the
differences between the rigid and moderate Presbyterians. In this he
was far from being successful ; yet he prevailed, before the battle of
Bothwell Bridge, in obtaining the consent of the majority of the council

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOKD.

to a moderate proposal, whicli he presented to the Duke of Monmouth,
the commander of the king’s forces, at a personal interview which he
obtained with his Grace, in the presence of General Dalziel and Colonel
Grahame.

Having escaped after the defeat of the Presbyterians at Bothwell,
and sought refuge for the night in a farmhouse, Morton found himself
surrounded with a number of his late companions in arms, when
(strange to tell !) instead of receiving him kindly, they resolve to 'put
him to deaths as a sacrifice to avert the wrath of Heaven, and in
revenge for his having thwarted their more Adolent measures. When
this horrid determination is upon the very point of being carried into
execution, Claverhouse bursts into the house, and rescues the devoted
victim. The risk which he had run from the fanatics, and the report
of several acts of generosity which he had performed to the royalists,
now secure to Morton the powerful patronage of Claverhouse, who
conveys him to Edinburgh, and procures his pardon from the Privy
Council, with liberty for him to retire beyond seas. Having arrived in
Holland, he is admitted to a private interview with the Prince of Orange,
who appoints him to a command in a remote garrison. Some years after
the Revolution, he returns to Scotland, and finds the Bellenden family
excluded from' their property, and Miss Edith on the eave of her marriage
to Lord Evandale. He pays a visit to the house of his uncle, who is
now dead, and has an interview in a cave with Burley, who is made to
be still alive, and whose fanaticism is represented as having issued in
the most furious and confirmed derangement. By the time that he
returns from these excursions, the author has arranged a plan for re¬
moving the impediment that prevented Morton’s union with Edith
Bellenden, and accordingly Lord Evandale is removed out of the way by
one of those violent coups-de-main which writers of novels so frequently
employ, when they grow weary of their subject, or when they have in¬
volved it inadvertently in difiiculties, from which they are unable to
extricate it with dexterity.

This general outline is at least sutficient to characterise the class to
which the tale belongs. It is by no means a story purely fictitious, but
is of a mixed kind, and embraces the principal facts in the real history
of this country during a very important period. The author has not
merely availed himself incidentally of these facts, but they form the
groundwork, and furnish the principal materials of his story. He has
not taken occasion to make transient allusions to the characters and
manners of the age ; but it is the main and avowed object of his work
to illustrate these, and to give a genuine and correct picture of the
principles and conduct of the two parties into which Scotland was at
that time divided. The person who undertakes such a work, subjects
himself to laws far more strict than those which bind the ordinary class
of fictitious writers. It is not enough that he keep within the bounds
of probability, — he must conform to historic truth. If he introduces

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

real characters, they must feel, and speak, and act as they are described
to have done in the faithful page of history, and the author is not at
liberty to mould them as he pleases, to make them more interesting,
and to give greater effect to his story. The same regard to the truth of
history must be observed when fietitious personages are introduced, pro¬
vided the reader is taught or induced to form a judgment from them of
the parties to which they are represented as belonging. If it is per¬
mitted to make embellishments on the scene, with the view of giving
greater interest to the piece, the utmost care ought to be taken that
they do not violate the integrity of character ; and they must be im¬
partially distributed, and equally extended to all parties, and to the
virtues and vices of each. This is a delicate task, but the under¬
taker imposes it upon himself, with all its responsibilities. Besides
fidelity, impartiality, and judgment, it requires an extensive, and minute,
and accurate acquaintance with the history of the period selected,
including the history of opinions and habits, as well as of events. And
we do not hesitate to say, that this is a species of intelligence which is
not likely to be possessed by the person who holds in sovereign contempt
the opinions which were then deemed of the utmost moment, and turns
with disgust from the very exterior manners of the men whose inmost
habits he afiects to disclose. Nor will the multifarious reading of the
dabbler in everything, from the highest affairs of church and state down
to the economy of the kitchen, and the management of the stable, keep
him from blundering here at every step.

Such, in our opinion, are the laws of the kind of writing under con¬
sideration ; and we are not aware that their justice will be disputed, or
that our statement of them is open to objection. The work before us
we consider as chargeable with offences against these laws, which are
neither few nor slight.

The guides of public opinion cannot be too jealous in guarding against
the encroachments of the writers of fiction upon the province of true
history, nor too faithful in pointing out every transgression, however
small it may appear, of the sacred fences by which it is protected.
Such writers have it in their power to do much mischief, from the en¬
gaging form in whieh they convey their sentiments to a numerous, and,
in general, unsuspecting class of readers. When the seene is laid in a re¬
mote and fabulous period, or when the merits and eonduct of the men
who are made to figure in it do not affect the great cause of truth and
of public good, the writer may be allowed to exercise his ingenuity, and
to amuse his readers, without our narrowly inquiring whether his repre¬
sentations are historically correct or not. But when he speaks of those
men who were engaged in the great struggle for national and individual
rights^ civil and religious, which took place in this eountry previous to
the Kevolution, and of all the cruelties of the oppressors, and aU the
sufferings of the oppressed, he is not to be tolerated in giving a false and
distorted view of men and measures, whether this proceed from ignorance

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

or from prejudice. Nor should his misrepresentations he allowed to pass
without severe reprehension, when their native tendency is to shade the
atrocities of persecution, to diminish the horror with which the conduct
of a tyrannical and unprincipled government has been so long and so
justly regarded, and to traduce and vilify the characters of those men,
who, while they were made to feel all the weight of its severity, con¬
tinued to resist, until they succeeded in emancipating themselves, and
securing their posterity from the galling yoke. On this supposition, it
is not sufficient to atone for such faults, that the work in which they are
found displays great talents ; that it contains scenes which are described
with exquisite propriety and truth; that the leading facts in the history
of those times are brought forward ; that the author has condemned the
severities of the government ; that he is often in a mirthful and facetious
mood ; and that some allowances must be made for a desire to amuse
his readers, and to impart greater interest to a story, which, after all,
is for the most part fictitious. With every disposition to make all
reasonable allowances, we are constrained to set aside such apologies.
It is not upon sentiments transiently expressed, but upon the impression
which the whole piece is calculated to make, that our judgment must be
formed. We cannot agree to sacrifice the interests of truth, either to
the humour of an author, or to the amusement of his readers. We re¬
spect talents as much as any can do, and can admire them, even when
we are obliged to reprobate the bad purposes to which they are applied ;
but we must not suffer our imaginations to be dazzled by the splendour
of talent ; we cannot consent to be tricked and laughed out of our prin¬
ciples ; nor will we passively allow men who deserve other treatment, and
to whose firmness and intrepidity we are indebted for the transmission
of so many blessings, to be run down, and abused with profane wit or
low buffoonery.

Before proceeding to a particular examination of the characters which
the author gives of the two parties, we beg leave to mention one or two
instances, which go to show that he is not to be trusted as to the
accuracy of the statements upon which his judgments are pronounced.
Lest we should be suspected of having hunted for these, we shall take
them from the two first paragraphs of his story. One charge which he
frequently brings against the strict Presbyterians, is that of a morose
and gloomy bigotry, displayed by their censuring of all innocent recrea¬
tions. Tliis he endeavours to impress on the imagination of his reader
in the very first scene, by representing them as refusing, from such
scruples, to attend the weaponschaws appointed by government. “ The
rigour of the strict Calvinists,” says he, “ increased in proportion to the
wishes of the government that it should be relaxed. A supercilious
condemnation of all manly pastimes and harmless recreations distin¬
guished those who professed a more than ordinary share of sanctity.”
Now, with respect to all that kind of information which the nntiquary
possesses, we will most cheerfully acknowledge the superiority of our

REVIEW OE TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

author; and we can assure Mm, that we listened to him with “judaical”
credulity, and with as devout gravity as any of his readers could listen
to the sermons of the zealous Mause, or of Habakkuk Mucklewraith, —
while he described, to our great edification, the popinjay or parrot, being
the figure of a bird so called, with party-coloured feathers, suspended on
a pole or mast, having a yard extended across it as a mark, at which
the competitors discharged their fusees and carabines, with the precise
number of paces at which they stood from the mark, the exact number
of rounds which they fired, and the identical manner in which the order
of their rotation was settled. Also the ducal carriage, being an enor¬
mous leathern vehicle like to Noah’s ark, or at least the vulgar picture
of it ; the eight Flanders mares, with their long tails, by which it was
dragged ; the eight insides, with their designations and rank, and the
places which they occupied on the lateral recess, or the projection at the
door, or the boot, and on the opposite ensconce ; and the six outsides,
being six lacqueys, armed up to the teeth, who stood, or rather hung, in
triple file, on the foot-board, and eke, besides a coachman, three pos¬
tilions (the author has omitted to mention on which lateral horse they
sat, or stood, or hung), with their short swords, and tie-wigs with three
tails, and blunderbusses and pistols. Truly, if the rigid features of the
Puritans did not relax into something of a more gentle aspect than “ a
sort of malignant and sarcastic sneer ” at the sight of this moving man¬
sion-house, we must grant that they were as morose and gloomy as the
author represents them to have been. With respect to all information
of this kind, which the author takes every opportunity of imparting to
his readers with infinite particularity, and with such evident self-satis¬
faction as to banish the suspicion that he intended to set the rhap¬
sodical jargon of modern writers over against that of the old Whigs, or
to show, that, though the cant of hypocrisy is the worst, the cant of
antiquarianism is the most childish and tormenting ; — of the accuracy,
we say, of all such information, we never presumed to hesitate for a
moment ; we are satisfied, upon his testimony, that in the seventeenth
century it was customary for gentlemen of property to sit at the same
table with the lowest of their menial servants, though we did not before
know that this mode of promiscuous feasting ascended higher in the grade
of society than the families of farmers ; and we now believe, upon the
same authority, though it cost us, we confess, some pain to swallow it,
that clocks or timepieces were then a common article of furniture in a
moorland farmhouse. But we must acknowledge that we are not dis¬
posed to pay the same deference to the author’s opinion, in what relates
to the religious sentiments and moral habits of those times ; we pre¬
sume to think that we understand these fully as well as he does ; and
with regard to the scruple which he imputes to the Presbyterians
respecting the lawfulness of assemblies for a show of arms, military exer¬
cises, and manly pastimes, whether he received his information from
X)edlars, weavers, and tailors, or from the descendants of honourable

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

to think of it, there are many of as enlightened minds, and of as liberal
principles, as he can pretend to, who glory in this national distinction ;
and one reason why we will not suffer our ancestors to be misrepresented
by him, or by any other writer of the present times, is the gratitude
which we feel to them, for having transmitted to their posterity a here¬
ditary and deep veneration for the Lord’s day.

The second instance which goes to prove that the author’s statements
respecting the religious sentiments and customs of that period are not
to be depended upon, relates to the use of the Book of Common Prayer.
“ The young at arms,” says he, “ were unable to avoid listening to the
prayers read in the churches on these occasions, and thus, in the opinion
of their repining parents, meddling with the accursed thing which is an
abomination in the sight of the Lord.” Now, though the author had
not stood in awe of that dreadful name,” which all Christians are
taught to venerate, nor been afraid of the threatening, “ the Lord will
not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain,” we would have
thought that he would have at least been careful to save himself from
ridicule, by ascertaining the truth of the fact which he assumes as the
foundation of his irreverent jest. How, then, does the fact stand 1
Prayers were not read in the parish churches of Scotland at that time,
any more than they were in the meeting-houses of the indulged, or in
the conventicles of the stricter Presbyterians. The author has taken it
for granted that the Prayer-Book was introduced into Scotland along
with Episcopal government at the Restoration. We are astonished that
any one who professed to be acquainted with the history of that period,
and especially one who undertakes to describe its religious manners,
should take up this erroneous notion. The English Book of Common
Prayer was never introduced into Scotland, and, previous to 1637, was
used only in the Chapel Royal, and perhaps occasionally in one or two
other places, to please the king. The history of the short-lived Scot¬
tish Prayer-Book is well known. At the Restoration, neither the one
nor the other was imposed, but the public worship was left to be con¬
ducted as it had been practised in the Presbyterian Church. Charles II.
was not so fond of prayers, whether read or extempore, as to interest
himself in that matter ; his maxim was, that Presbyterianism was not
fit for a gentleman ; his dissipated and irreligious courtiers were of the
same opinion ; and therefore Episcopacy was established. As for the
aspiring churchmen who farthered and pressed the change, they were
satisfied with seating themselves in their rich bishoprics. Accordingly,
the author will not find the Presbyterians “ repining” at this imposi¬
tion ; and had he examined their writings, as he ought to have done,
he would have found them repeatedly admitting that they had no such
grievance. But surely (we hear some of our readers who have perused
Old Mortality, exclaim), surely the Prayer-Book must have been read in
the churches in those times. The old steward of Tillietudlem is as fami¬
liar with the commination, as the most conscientious curate in England

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

could be ; and the butler is as well acquainted with the Litany, as if he
had heard it every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. (Vol. ii. pp. 40,
267.) Cuddie Headrigg, too, very wittily observes, that this, in his
opinion, formed the only difference between the Episcopalian service and
that of their opponents. (Saame volume, sievint chapter, hunder an’
fifty-saxt page.) Honest Major Bellenden also vouches for the fact, and
introduces it when he was very much in earnest to procure the life of
Henry Morton. “ He is a lad of as good church principles as any gentle¬
man in the life-guards. He has gone to church service with me fifty
times, and I never heard him miss one of the responses in my life.
Edith Bellenden can bear witness to it as well as I. He always read
on the same prayer-book with her, and could look out the lessons as
well as the curate himself.” (Vol. ii. pp. 303, 304.) Nay, to confirm
the truth of the fact, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, Morton was
so habituated to the use of the Liturgy, that, in a situation of great dis¬
traction, “ he had instinctively recourse to the petition for deliverance
and for composure of spirit which is to be found in the Book of Common
Prayer of the Church of England a circumstance which so enraged
his murderers, that they determined to precipitate his fate. (Vol. iv.
pp. 83, 84).

There is one fault in the work, which all who have carefully read it
must have observed. For the sake of giving effect to a particular scene,
the author does not hesitate to violate historic truth and probability,
and even to contradict his own statements or admissions. Instances of
this occur in some of his best descriptions, and they show, that though
he has the imagination and feeling of a poet, he is deficient in the judg¬
ment and discriminating taste of a historian. For example, at the
weaponschaw, with which the story is introduced, he makes the Whigs
to shout repeatedly at Morton’s success, and cry, “ The good old cause
for ever ! ” although every one acquainted with the state of matters at
that time, must be persuaded that this woidd have been a signal for the
soldiers to disperse the crowd, and perhaps to shoot some of the offend¬
ers instantly on the spot. No part of the character of Burley will re¬
move the gross improbability, that a man in his circumstances would
have engaged in a personal conflict with a soldier in an inn, which, in all
likelihood, must have issued in his imprisonment, and cohsequently in
his detection. We mention these instances because, as related by the
author, they do not convey any degrading reflection on the character of
the Covenanters, but, so far as they go, exliibit them in a favourable
light ; and therefore we cannot be suspected of partiality in pointing
them out as blemishes. Mause is a favourite character with the author,
and out of her mouth he intended to pour the greatest quantity of his
ridicule upon the Covenanters. Here, then, we might have expected
consistency. But how does the case stand i Mause was an old pro¬
fessor of religion, and also an old residenter on the estate of Tillietud-
lem. She had long attended conventicles, but she had conducted herself

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

quietly, and prudently, and inoffensively ; for, had she done otherwise,
the zealous lady Margaret Bellenden, who was accustomed to visit her,
and to gossip with her for half an hour at a time, must have long before
discovered her principles and character. But no sooner does she fall
under the management of our author, than she becomes all at once
frenzied, and having lost the command of herself, and being wholly
possessed by the fanatical spirit of the tale, she not only incurs the
wrath of the old lady with whom she had been “ a sort of favourite,”
but by her wild and uncontrollable raving, expels herself and son from
every harbour, and exposes all who were so unfortunate as to receive
her, to the greatest distress and peril. What must we infer from this
incongruous and conflicting representation ? That the conduct of the
discreet Mause, previous to “ the 5th of May 1679, when our narrative
commences,” exhibits the genuine picture of the Presbyterian character,
as it existed at that period, and the description of her mad behaviour
after that period, is the distorted caricature of the same class of persons
as now presented in Old Mortality ?

“ Nec melius natura queat variasse colores :

Ell tibi vera rosa est, en tibi ficta rosa !”

But as we are not yet to part witli our author, and would wish to
keep in the best terms possible with him so long as we must be together,
we shall suspend the discussion of the points on which we are under the
necessity of differing from liim, for the sake of performing the more
pleasant duty of pointing out some of his beauties. These are numer¬
ous ; and all the blemishes which we have noticed, and may yet find
ourselves obliged to notice, could not prevent us from observing and
admiring them. It is true, that when great talents are abused, when
they are exerted to confound the distinctions between virtue and vice,
to varnish over oppression and injustice, and to throw ridicule upon
those who resist these scourges of society, they ought not to screen the
possessor from condemnation and censure. He is doubly criminal ; he
sins in patronising a bad cause ; and he sins in prostituting to its sup¬
port those talents which, by the very law of his nature, he was bound
to use for an opposite purpose. Still we cannot be blind to their exist¬
ence, nor would we wish to overlook one instance in which they are
legitimately and laudably employed. That the general tendency of the
work under consideration is unfavourable to the interests of religion
and political freedom, is our decided judgment. But we, at the same
time, cheerfully acknowledge, that in stating his own sentiments, the
author has distinctly condemned persecution, tyranny, and military
oppression ; and although he has laboured to expose that party who
were most distinguished for religion and correctness of manners, and
among whom, indeed, these virtues were then almost exclusively to be
found, yet we are unwilling, simply on that account, to consider him as
an enemy to religion, or a champion of profaneness. But whatever the

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

moral and religious character of the work be, its literary merits are
unquestionably high. The author always views nature with the eye of
a poet, and his descriptions of it are uniformly vivid, strong, and pic¬
turesque. His dialogue is easy, animated, and characteristical, and is
often enlivened with strokes of genuine humour, and flashes of true wit.
We cannot say that we find those profound views of human nature, and
those nicer dissections of the human heart, which appear in the charac¬
ters of the masters of fictitious writing who flourished during last
century. They had studied mankind with a philosophic eye ; their
object was to delineate men and manners as they occurred in ordinary
life ; and their chief art was exerted in inventing scenes in which these
might be fully unfolded, and in forming them into one piece of histori¬
cal painting, in which variety was combined with unity, and the deepest
interest imparted to the subject, without the smallest violation of the
limits of nature and probability. Our author, again, has surveyed man¬
kind, not carelessly indeed, but with a curious rather than a philosophic
eye ; he is attracted by the singularities and eccentricities of human
character ; he endeavours chiefly to amuse his readers with an exhibi¬
tion of these ; and whenever they have fallen within the reach of his
observation, and he was under no temptation to distort, he has described
them with uncommon, we might say with inimitable truth, naivetd, and
effect. He never fails to “ carry every point,” when he brings on the
scene a Highland chieftain, a moss-trooper, an astrologer, or even a
dwarf ; a cunning publican, a simple clown, an artful waiting-woman,
or a whimsical old housekeeper. The character of Neil Bane is painted
to the life. The scene in the public-house is well described ; and the
character of Sergeant Bothwell is natural, and supported throxighout, —
only, we must observe that, from his education and former rank, he is
not a fair specimen of the rude and brutal soldiery let loose upon the
Covenanters ; and he always takes care to engross the conversation,
and scarcely allows his comrades to show their faces. The shrewdness
and worldly sense of Cuddie Headrigg are very amusing ; and we must
praise the sagacity of the author in keeping him cheek by jowl to his
mother, not to keep her within bounds (for his presence is of little ser¬
vice that way), but to divert the reader’s attention, and keep him from
wearying of a character that is overcharged and unnatural. In general,
we think that the author is most successful in giving the portraits of
those in low life. Here he has, almost in every case, produced a fac¬
simile; so that we may justly apply the following lines, in which
Martial praises the portrait of Issa, the favourite lap-dog of his friend
Publius ; —

“ Ill qua tarn similem videbis Issam,

Ut sit tarn similis sibi nec ipsa.

Issam denique pone cum tabella,

Aut utramque putabis esse veram,

Aut utramque putabis esse flctam.”

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

So true the likeness of the elf,

That liker is not Issa's self.

Survey together, then apart,

The dog of nature and of art ;

You’ll think that both the dogs are real.

Or both alike are dogs ideal.

On the score of common propriety, we must except the description of
Goose Gibbie in the first scene. We are quite sensible that the author
found it advisable to make some sacrifice of his taste to that of a large
class of his readers, whom it was prudent to please ; but it was surely
too much to record, with such tedious minuteness, and such marks of
delight, the adventures and misfortune of a poor “ half-witted lad,”
similar to those who give “ infinite satisfaction ” to thoughtless school¬
boys, gaping clowns, and giggling handmaidens.

One conspicuous fault in this tale lies in its not giving a view of the
state of the Presbyterians previous to the time that it commences, and
of the sufferings which they had endured from the Government. It
begins with an account of the assassination of Archbishop Sharp, and
of the insurrection of the Presbyterians ; but it throws no light upon
the causes wliich drove them to this extremity. Let them have been
as fanatical, and violent, and rancorous in their political hatred, as the
author represents them, still, common justice, not to speak of candour,
required that the reader should have been put in possession of those
facts which were of an excusatory nature, or which would enable him
to judge how far these vices were inherent in the Presbyterian character,
and to what degree they were to be imputed to the oppression and
cruelty with which they had been treated. The necessity of this is so
exceedingly obvious, that it is difficult to suppress the suspicion that
the information was intentionally kept back. We certainly do consider
it as an instance of glaring partiality and injustice, — the more so, as a
great proportion of the readers of the work know little more of the his¬
tory of that time, beyond what they have found in the Introduction to
Walter Scott’s Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, where it is described
by the veiy elegant periphrasis of “ what is called the ‘ Persecution.’ ”
It is no apology for this, that the author has, in a general statement,
opposed the tyranny of the Government and military violence, to the
turbulence and fanaticism of the Covenanters ; for he has dwelt upon
the latter, and only glanced at the former in a transient manner. What
.would we think of a writer who should undertake the history of a civil
war, without giving the causes which led to it, leaving his reader to
collect these from other works, or to guess at them from the hints
which he occasionally dropt 1 We are not so unreasonable as to require
that our author should have alarmed his readers by giving a dry narra¬
tion of this at the beginning of his work, or by substituting it in place
of the interesting description of the weaponschaw far from it. But
none knows better than he where it could have been introduced with
the greatest propriety and effect. Had he only introduced the leading

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

facts in a conversation between Morton and a rational Presbyterian (if
such a personage could have entered into the author’s conception), he
might have given a higher tone to his work, and invested his nominal
hero with the real character of a patriot, instead of making him a mere
everyday person of romance — a puppet, alternately agitated by love,
and jealousy, and personal resentment, and a vague and feeble wish for
fame. The narrative which we are necessitated to give, to supply the
author’s omission, can be but brief and general.

During nineteen long years previous to the insurrection at Bothwell,
the Presbyterians of Scotland had smarted under the rod of persecu¬
tion. Scarcely was Charles II. restored, when the scaffold was dyed,
with the blood of the noble Marquess of Argyll, who had placed the
crown on the king’s head, and of James Guthrie, whose loyalty, not of
that passive, creeping, senseless kind which Cavaliers and Tories glory
in, but enlightened, tempered, and firm, was proved by his refusing,
during the whole period of the interregnum, to acknowledge either the
Commonwealth or the Protectorate. The people of Scotland were
deeply rooted in their attachment to Presbytery, from a persuasion of
its agreeableness to Scripture, from experience of the advantages, reli¬
gious and civil, which it had produced, from the oaths which they were
under to adhere to it, and from the sufferings which they had endured for
their adherence to it, both from the court and from the sectaries of Eng¬
land. Upon the Kestoration a proclamation was sent down to Scotland,
in which the king promised to preserve this form of church government
in that part of his dominions. But this was merely an artifice to lull the
nation asleep, until the court had gained over or got rid of the principal
persons whose opposition they had reason to fear, and to prevent the
general remonstrances which otherwise would have been presented
from all parts of the kingdom against the intended change ; for it is
beyond all doubt (whatever ignorance may assert to the contrary), that
there was not then a party in Scotland, worthy of being named, which
desired the restoration of Episcopacy upon religious principle. Accord¬
ingly, when the Parliament met, being packed by the court, and slavishly
submissive to all its wishes, it proceeded to declare the king supreme
in all causes, ecclesiastical and civil, to devolve upon him the whole
right of settling the government of the Church, to condemn all resist¬
ance to the royal authority, and at one stroke to rescind all the Parlia¬
ments from 1640 to 1650, even those at which his Majesty and his
father had been present, and all their acts, including many of the most
enlightened and salutary which ever passed a Scottish legislature ! Thus
the liberties of the nation, civil and religious, were laid at the feet of
the monarch, and the foundations of all legitimate government shaken.
“This,” says Bishop Burnet, “was a most extravagant act, and only fit
to be concluded after a drunken bout. It shook all possible security for
the future, and laid a most pernicious precedent. It was a mad roaring
time, full of extravagance. And no wonder it was so, when the men of

REVIEW OF TALES OF MV LANDLORD.

affairs were almost 'perpetually drimlc." Had not the ancient spirit of
Scotland been broken by repeated disasters, and had they not been
basely betrayed, the nation would have risen at once, bound this mad
crew, and thrown off the degrading yoke which was imposed on them.
In the exercise of the powers with which he was invested, the king im¬
mediately restored Episcopacy by a royal edict, which was soon after
confirmed by another Parliament. One principal cause of this revolu¬
tion, and of all the confusions, horrors, and crimes which it entailed
upon the nation during twenty*eight years, was the base and unparalleled
treachery of Sharp, who, having been sent to London by the Presby¬
terians to watch over their interests, and supported there by their money,
deluded them in his letters by the most solemn assurances of his fidelity,
and of the security of their cause, while he had betrayed that cause, and
sold himself to their adversaries ; and who continued to practise the
same consummate hypocrisy, until he had no longer any reason for con¬
cealment, and he took possession of the archbishopric of St Andrews.
All the authority and all the force of Government were henceforth em¬
ployed almost solely in enforcing subjection to a form of church gov¬
ernment, and to an order of men that were odious to the nation. The
Solemn League and Covenant, which was regarded with the greatest
veneration, and had long been considered as one of the most sacred
bonds of security for the national religion and liberties, was declared by
statute unlawful, and all the subjects, as well as the king who had sworn
it, were absolved from its obligation ; those who were admitted to places
of power and trust were obliged explicitly to renounce it ; and this
renunciation soon came to be exacted from the subjects in general under
the heaviest penalties. All ministers who had been admitted to parishes
after 1649, were ordered, before a certain day, to receive collation from
the bishops, or else to leave their churches. In consequence of this,
between three and four hundred of them were constrained to leave their
charges, which were filled with men who were in general the very dregs
and refuse of society. In giving them this character, we use the lan¬
guage, a little softened, of a bishop who was at that time in Scotland,
and was a writer in support of Episcopacy. “ They were,” says he,
“ generally very mean and despicable in all respects. They were the
worst preachers ever I heard ; they were ignorant to a reproach ; and
many of them were openly vicious. They were a disgrace to their orders,
and to the sacred functions ; and were indeed the dregs and refuse of
the northern parts. Those of them who arose above contempt or scan¬
dal, were men of such violent tempers, that they were as much hated as
the others were despised.” Who can wonder that such men were
despised and detested ? Who but hypocritical infidels, and profligates,
and dastardly souls, would have submitted to the ministry of such men,
or have abandoned their own ministers, who had been highly respected,
and were highly respectable 1 Accordingly, such of the people as had any
sense of religion, or of decorum, and were not slaves to the court, or to

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

deep prejudice, scrupled to hear the curates, and frequented the churches
of those Presbyterian ministers who had not yet been ejected. When
this was not in their power, they craved instruction from their ejected
pastors, who, considering the relation that had subsisted between them
and their flocks as not dissolved, complied with their request, at first
privately, and afterwards more publicly. This was the origin of separate
meetings and conventicles, against which the vengeance of the Govern¬
ment, and of the bishops and their worthless underlings, was now directed.

Laws with penalties, which were gradually increased, were enacted,
and every person bearing the king’s commission had the power of
executing them. The Parliament had granted to the king a standing
army, under the pretext of defending Christendom against the Turks,
forsooth, but in reality to support his arbitrary government. The
soldiers were dispersed in companies through the nonconforming par¬
ishes. The curate read over a catalogue of his parishioners on the
Sabbath-day, and having marked the names of such as were absent,
gave them in to the person who commanded the company, who imme¬
diately levied the fines incurred by the absentees. In parishes to wliich
the nonconformists were suspected to repair, the soldiers used to spend
the Sabbath in the nearest inn, and when warned by the psalm that
public worship was drawing to a close, they sallied out from their cups,
placed themselves at the doors of the church, told the people, as they
came out, like a flock of sheep, and seized as their prey upon such as
had wandered from their own parishes. Ministers who had preached
at conventicles were, when apprehended, committed to prison, and
banished ; those who attended their ministry were severely fined, or
subjected to corporal punishment. Masters were obliged to enter into
bonds that their servants should not attend these meetings, and land¬
lords to come under these engagements for all that lived on their
estates. If any dispute arose respecting the fines, the person accused
was obliged to travel from the most distant part of the country, and
though found innocent, was often obliged to pay what was called
riding-money^ for defraying the travelling expenses of his accuser, who
accompanied him.

Sir James Turnei', who commanded a troop which lay at Dumfries in
1666, had distinguished himself by his military exactions and plunder.
A small party of his soldiers were one day ordered to a small village in
Galloway to bring in one of their victims. While they were treating
him in the most inhuman manner, some countrymen ventured to re¬
monstrate against their cruelty. This was resented by the soldiers, a
scuffle ensued, and the soldiers were put to flight. Knowing that this
act would draw on them the vengeance of the military, the countrymen,
being joined by numbers who could not but applaud their generous
interference, disarmed the soldiers who were in the neighbourhood, and
proceeding quickly to Dumfries, took Sir James Turner prisoner, and
dispersed his troops. This incident produced the rising of the Presby-

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

terians in the west of Scotland, which was suppressed at Pentland Hills
by the King’s troops under General Dalziel. How far it was prudent
for them to continue in arms, and to brave the fury of the Government,
in the circumstances in which they were then placed, we shall not
judge ; but that they were chargeable with rebellion, we will not easily
admit. “ We leave all those who afterwards thought it lawful to join
in the Revolution,” says a sensible English author, who wrote Memoirs
of the Church of Scotland, “ and in taking arms against the oppressions
and arbitrary government of King James, to judge, whether these good
men had not the same individual reasons, and more, for tliis Pentland
expedition 1 and it is answer enough to all that shall read these sheets
to say, that these men died for that lawful resisting of arbitrary power
which has been justified as legal, and acknowledged to be justifiable
by the practice and declaration of the respective Parliaments of both
kingdoms.”

An unsuccessful attempt to throw off a tyrannical yoke, serves in
general to rivet it more firmly, and to aggravate the sufferings of the
oppressed. It was so in the present instance. Besides those who
suffered for being engaged in the late insurrection, the nonconformists
throughout the kingdom were prosecuted with the greatest rigour. A
hone of contention, to use the phrase of their arch-persecutor, was
thrown in among them by the royal acts of Indulgence, as they were
called, by which a certain number of the ejected ministers were per¬
mitted to preach upon certain conditions, and were confined by twos,
like galley-slaves, within their parishes. Upon this, severer laws were
enacted against conventicles. To preach at a separate meeting in a
private house, subjected the minister to a fine of 5000 merks ; if he
preached in the fields, his punishment was death and confiscation of
property. The fines of those who countenanced these meetings were
increased, and were proportioned to their wealth. For example. Sir
George Maxwell of Newark, and Sir George Maxwell of Nether Pollock,
were fined in a sum amounting to nearly .£8000 sterling each, in the
course of three years, for absence from their parish church, attendance
on conventicles, and disorderly baptisms. Landlords were now obliged
to make it an article in their leases, and masters in their indentures,
that their tenants and apprentices should regularly attend the esta¬
blished place of worship. Recourse was at last had to one of the most
detestable measures of a tyrannical government. Letters of intercom-
muning were issued against a great number of the most distinguished
Presbyterians, including several ladies of rank, by winch they were
proscribed as rebels, and cut off from all society ; a price, amounting in
some instances to £500, was fixed on their heads, and every person, not
excepting their nearest relatives, was prohibited from conversing vdth
them by word or writing, from receiving or harbouring them, and from
supplying them with meat, drink, clothes, or any of the accommodations
or necessaries of life, uncler the pain of being pursued with rigour as

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

guilty of the same crimes with the persons intercommuned. It is to be
observed, that the highest offence of those who were thus excluded from
the pale of society, was preaching at, or attending field conventicles.
At the same time, the Highland host was brought down upon the
western counties. Those who have heard of modern Highland hospita¬
lity, or been amused with fables of ancient Highland chivalry, can
form no idea of the horror produced by the irruption of these savages, to
the number of 10,000, armed, besides their accustomed weapons, with
spades, shovels, and mattocks, and with daggers or dirks made to fasten
to the muzzles of their guns, iron shackles for binding their prisoners,
and thumb-locks to oblige them to answer the questions that they pro¬
posed to them, and to discover their concealed treasure. The rapine
and outrage committed by this lawless banditti, often without discrimi¬
nation of conformists from nonconformists, having obliged the Govern¬
ment to order them home, the regular troops were sent to replace them,
provided with instructions to proceed with the greatest severity against
those who attended conventicles, and headed by officers who had shown
themselves best qualified for carrying these instructions into execution.

We cannot give an account of the sufferings which the Presbyterians
endured by the execution of these barbarous measures. “ They suf¬
fered,” says an author already quoted, “ extremities that tongue cannot
describe, and which heart can hardly conceive of, from the dismal cir¬
cumstances 'of hunger, nakedness, and the severity of the chmate,—
lying in damp caves, and in hollow clefts of the naked rocks, without
shelter, covering, fire or food ; none durst harbour, entertain, relieve, or
speak to them, upon pain of death. Many, for venturing to receive
them, were forced to fly to them, and several put to death for no other
offence. Fathers were persecuted for supplying their children, and
children for nourishing their parents ; husbands for harbouring their
wives, and wives for cherishing their own husbands. The ties and
obligations of the laws of nature were no defence, but it was made
death to perform natural duties ; and many suffered death for acts of
piety and charity in cases where human nature could not bear the
thoughts of suffering it. To such an extreme was the rage of these
persecutors carried.” Nor can we give an account of the murders com¬
mitted under the cloak of justice ; the inhuman tortures to which the
accused were subjected, to constrain them to bear witness against them¬
selves, their relatives, and their brethren, and the barbarity of sounding
drums on the scaffold to drown their voices, and of apprehending and
punishing those who expressed sympathy for them, or who uttered the
prayer, God comfort you ! The number of prisoners was often so great
that the Government could not bring them all to trial. Such of them
as escaped execution were transported, or rather sold as slaves, to
people desolate and barbarous colonies ; the price of a Whig was fixed
at five pounds ; and sometimes they were given away in presents by the
judges.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Such was the state of matters at the period when the story before us
is supposed to commence. Had the author been obliged to prefix to it
a narrative of these transactions, however general, we do not believe
that he would have ventured on bringing forward the representation
which he has given of the two parties, or that he would have presumed
on its meeting with a favourable reception. What person of judgment
and candour will condemn the Covenanters, or say that they acted
otherwise than it became men of conscience, integrity, and spirit to act ?
Men who had been betrayed, insulted, harassed, pillaged, and treated in
every way like beasts rather than reasonable creatures ; and by whom ?
by a perfidious, profane, profligate junto of atheists and debauchees,
who were not fit for governing even a colony of transported felons,
aided by a set of churchmen the most despicable and wortliless that
ever disgraced the habit which they wore, or profaned the sacred
function in which they impiously dared to officiate. Were these suf¬
ferers the men whom a writer of the nineteenth century would have
chosen as the butt of his ridicule, by industriously bringing forward and
aggravating their foibles, and by loading them with follies and vices to
which they were utter strangers, while he eagerly sought to shade the
cruelties which they endured, and to throw a lustre over the character
of their worst persecutors ? Who, after contemplating the picture
which the genuine history of these times presents, can read without
scorn the pitiful complaint, that “ the zeal of the conventiclers devoured
no small portion of their loyalty, sober sense, and good breeding 1” We
have more respect for him, when with greater courage he avows his
sentiments, and bears his testimony against “ the envenomed rancour
of their political hatred.” For then we can tell him boldly in reply,
that the Government, or rather the political faction usurping the go¬
vernment, which the Presbyterians hated, deserved to be “ hated with a
perfect hatred.” Indignant as we felt at such conduct, we could not pre¬
vent our features from relaxing, to hear him exclaim, with affected whin¬
ing, and glaring self-contradiction, — in the language of tragedy, too, —

“ Oh rake not up the ashes of our fathers ! ”

Your fathers ! If you mean the Presbyterians, they acknowledge you
not ; and if their persecutors, you only are to blame for the stirring of
those ashes mth which time was gradually and slowly covering the
memory of their infamous deeds.

If the Presbyterian preachers, and the people who faithfully and
generously adhered to them— -after being driven out of society, hunted
from place to place, obliged to assemble on mountains, and to seek
refuge in the caves and dens of the earth — had unlearned in a great
degree the ordinary habits of men, and almost forgotten to speak the
common language of their contemporaries if the scenes with which
they were daily surrounded had imparted to their minds a high degree
of enthusiasm, and even of fierceness ; — in short, if the picture drawn

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

by the author of the more rigid Presbyterians were just (which we can
by no means admit), still a faithful and intelligent historian would not
only have fairly accounted for this, but would have painted their native
sense, worth, and dignity of character, as displaying itself through
the darker and less pleasing, but not uninteresting hue, which peculiar
circumstances had for a time impressed upon their features. Who will
wonder that some of them should at times have lost command of them¬
selves, and done acts which did not accord with their general conduct
and prevailing temper 1 When the oppression of the times became so
indiscriminate, both in point of legal enactment and of actual execution,
as to involve many others along with the immediate objects of persecu¬
tion, and when it assumed so outrageous a form as to irritate all who
had any regard for the rights of men, or any abhorrence of tyranny,
need we wonder that many persons, who, in point of religious and moral
character, were dissimilar to the Covenanters, should have been induced
to attend their conventicles, and to take part in their quarrel? Or
need we be astonished that instruments should have been found to cut
off so furious a persecutor, and a man so universally detested, as Arch¬
bishop Sharp ? Instead of being surprised at the insurrection of the
Presbyterians, and the resistance which they made at Drumclog and
Bothwell, may we not rather feel astonished that their patience held
out so long under such intolerable oppressions? To those who would
revive the exploded charge of rebellion, we give the same answer which
we made in speaking of the rising at Pentland, and in the words of the
same author whom we then quoted : “ What a shaine is it to us,” says
he, addressing the English nation, “ and how much to the honour of
these persecuted people, that they could thus see the treachery and
tyranny of those reigns, when we saw it not ; or rather, that they had
so much honesty of principle, and obeyed so strictly the dictates of con¬
science, as to bear their testimony, early, nobly, and gloriously, to the
tnith of God, and the rights of their country, both civil and religious !
while we all, though seeing the^same things, and equally convinced of
its being right, yet betrayed the cause of liberty and religion, by a sinful
silence, and a dreadful cowardice, not joining to help the Lord, or the
people of the Lord, against the mighty ; sitting still, and seeing our
brethren slaughtered and butchered, in defence of their principles (which
our consciences told us, even then, were founded on the truth), and by
those tyrants who, we knew, deserved to be rejected, both of God and
the nation, and whom afterwards we did reject ! ”

We now proceed to substantiate the charge which we have brought
against the work, by adducing particular proofs, Jirst, of partiality to
the persecutors ; and, secondly, of injustice to the persecuted Presby¬
terians. And as we do not mean to blink the charge, we wish to be
understood as accusing the work of gross partiality and injustice.

In i\\Q first place, then, it gives an unfaithful picture of the sufterings
which the country endured from military depredations and outrage.

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

The history of that period is full of instances of these ; and the author was
not only sensible that he was bound to give a view of them, but has pro¬
fessed to give it. But how faint a resemblance does the picture bear to
the original ! We shall consider the scene at Tillietudlem, on occasion of
Claverhouse’s first visit to it, when we examine the character of that
officer. The scene at Milnwood, when Henry Morton is taken prisoner,
is the only one in the work which could properly be intended to repre¬
sent the depredations of the soldiery, and is evidently given by the
author as a specimen of the whole. (Vol. ii. p. 172-207.) But here
every circumstance is so arranged, as to diminish the impression which
the reader might have conceived of the excesses committed on such
occasions. Great alarm is indeed expressed at the arrival of the red¬
coats, but it is by the miserly landlord and his timid housekeeper. Old
Milnwood slips into his pocket the silver spoons, — but the soldiers
testify no disposition either to pilfer or plunder. The troopers call
for drink with sufficient insolence, — but the jests of the thoughtless and
gay, though dissipated Bothwell, dispel the apprehensions of the reader,
who is mightily pleased to see the claret of the old miser quaffed, and
his musty bottles emptied. Bothwell determines to carry off young
Morton as a prisoner, but it is only after discovering that he had
afforded shelter to the murderer of the archbishop ; and although he
asserted that he was not aware of the commission of that deed, still
his assertion was not sufficient warrant for the sergeant to allow him to
escape. Bothwell proceeds to put the test oath, but we are instantly
told that he did it much in the same manner “ which is used to this
day in his Majesty’s custom-house.” And before we have recalled our
thoughts, the author has completely diverted our attention from the
subject, by the struggle between Mause and her son, and the ridiculous,
extravagant, and raving rhapsodies with which the former assailed the
astounded ears of the soldiers. In short, the party carry off Henry
Morton, leaving the impression upon our minds that they had con¬
ducted themselves with great moderation, and disposing us to join
heartily in the reproaches which the incensed housekeeper pours upon
the head of Mause, as the sole cause of the misfortune that had befallen
the family. Thus the tragic scenes of military violence, described by
the faithful page of history, sink, in the mimic representation of our
author, into a mere farce ! And the moral of the fable, good reader, if
it be necessary to state it more plainly, is, that the evils which the
Covenanters suffered from the soldiers were chiefly owing to their own
indiscretion and extravagance. In the midst of this scene, so calculated
to give a false idea of the then actual state of matters, the attentive
reader could not fail to observe the mean attempt made to bribe him to
think lightly of the whole persecution, by putting a laughable and
ludicrous description of the sufferings of the Covenanters into the mouth
of old Mause.

“ Accipe nunc Danaum insidias, et crimine ab uuo
Disce omnes.”

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

In the second place, we bring the same charge against the repre¬
sentation made of the judicial procedure against the Covenanters. We
allude particularly to the torture of Macbriar in the presence of the
Privy Council. The use of that infernal mode of punishipent at that'
period is so well known, that it could scarcely have been omitted, and
it afforded, besides, an opportunity to the author to display his powers
of description. We readily allow that the operation, and the behaviour
of the counsellors who witnessed the spectacle, are described in such a
manner as to excite our horror at both. But what we complain of is,
that even here the author has introduced a circumstance wliich is cal¬
culated most materially to diminish this feeling. As if the Privy
Council had not been in the habit of torturing innocent men, the person
selected as an example of their unfeeling severity, is not simply a
Covenanter, a field-preacher, and one who had been in the rebellion at
Bothwell ; but one whom the author had previously made a murderer,
and one of the most atrocious kind, — we say a murderer, because his
intention was fully manifested, and on the eve of being carried into
execution, and because “the bitterness of death was past” with the
victim, before he was rescued. (Vol. iv. p. 68-100.) Macbriar is made
to act a principal part in that horrid scene (more horrid by far than
that of the torture), and the description of it is wrought up to the very
highest pitch of which the author’s fancy was capable.* Both scenes
were of his creation. It will scarcely be denied, that in forming the
one, he had his eye upon the other ; and the tendency of the association
upon the mind of the reader is too obvious to require illustration.

A third instance of partiality to the persecutors, is the excessive
tenderness and delicacy shown to the Episcopal clergy, contrasted with
the manner in which the Presbyterian ministers are treated through the
work. It is most undeniable that they acted a very important part in
the transactions of that period; yet they are concealed and kindly kept out
of view by the author. Preachers of the Presbyterian persuasion, both
indulged, and non-indulged, moderate and rigid, are brought forward
by name ; the reader is introduced to their acquaintance, and made to
listen to their conversations, and prayers, and preachings. But not one
bishop or curate is introduced on the scene, and we seldom even hear of

1 The scene here referred to is that at of some of the wilder spirits who mingled
Drumshinnel, when Morton, having fallen with their ranks, it was quite preposterous
among some of the Cameronian party, was to put such bloody sentiments into the
adjudged to die, “ as an offering to atone for mouth of any of their ministers, and espe-
the sins of the congregation,” as soon as the cially of Macbriar, who is evidently intended
clock struck twelve on Sabbath night, and for Mr M'Kail, one of the most amiable suf-
was opportunely saved from this fate by the ferers of the period. But the worst feature
arrival of Claverhouse and his dragoons, in the whole scene is the attempt to gloze
The author informs us, in the notes to his over the horrid massacre which followed, —
last edition of the Tales, that the incident the reader being fully prepared, by the pre-
was suggested to him by a similar story vious scene in the drama, for welcoming the
about a gang of smugglers. Allowing that approach of “ the Bloody Claverso,” and
such a scene might have taken place with feeling anything but sympathy when he sees
some of the Covenanters, and that Sir Walter that “ the Camerouians, «o lately about to be
was fully warranted, as he insists in his vin- the willing agents of a bloody execution, were
dicatory articles, in drawing such a picture now themselves to undergo it.”

tl*

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

them, except when we are told of their being religiously employed in
reading 'prayers ! What is the reason of this 1 The reader may take
the following until he can find a better. The gross ignorance of the
greater part of them, the vices with which their morals were stained,
and the violence with which they instigated the Government to perse¬
cution, were so glaring as to be undeniable. The character given of them
by Presbyterian writers is so strongly confirmed by Bishop Burnet, that
it was impossible to outface it ; and to have presented them in their
true colours, would not only have displeased the right reverend friends
and informers of the author, but woidd also have tended, in no small
degree, to have relieved the dark picture given of the Covenanters. We
do not recollect to have seen prudence enumerated among the quali¬
fications of a historian, but henceforward let it occupy a chief place
among the historic virtues.

“ Cave arguendum faciims hoc, lector, putes :

Causam rogas? Probanda virtue omnis est ;

Ergo et probanda (quis neget ?) prudentia. ”

We now come to the character of Grahame of Claverhouse, after¬
wards known by the name of Viscount Dundee, which the author has
laboured with the greatest art. Claverhouse was not in Scotland at the
beginning of the persecution, but he had been employed in it as the
captain of an independent troop at least two years before the affair of
Drumclog. His behaviour soon recommended him to his employers.
Officers not distinguished for humanity, and sufficiently disposed to
execute the orders which they received with rigour, had been previously
employed by the Court. But the deeds of Turner, Bannatyne, Grierson
of Lagg, and General Dalziel, were soon eclipsed by those of Grahame,
who long continued to be known in Scotland by the name of Bloody
Claverhouse. His actions, as recorded in the history of these times, do
certainly prove that he was not undeserving of this appellation. A
brief reference to some of these will assist us in judging of the charac¬
ter which the author has given of him. We shall not speak of the
blood wantonly shed by him in the pursuit of the Covenanters after
their rout at Bothwell, nor of the ravages and cruelties which he com¬
mitted in Ayrshire and in Galloway, during that and the succeeding year ;
as it may be alleged that revenge for the disgrace which he had suffered
at Loudon Hill, prompted him to acts not congenial to his natural disposi¬
tion. But this feeling had sufficient time to subside before 1684. During
that year he had the chief command in the west of Scotland, and he em¬
ployed the most disgraceful and barbarous measures to discover those that
were intercommuned, and if possible to exterminate the whole party. He
sought out and employed persons who could, with the greatest address,
feign themselves to be pious men, and friendly to Presbyterians, and by
tliis means discovered their retreats, or drew them from places where
they could not be attacked by his troops. Having divided the country

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

into districts, he caused his soldiers to drive all the inhabitants of a
district, like so many cattle, to a convenient place. He then called out
a certain number of them, and while his soldiers surrounded them with
charged guns and bloody threatenings, he made them swear that they
owned the Duke of York as rightful successor to the throne. If they
had formerly taken the test or abjuration oath, he interrogated them if
they had repented of this, and then caused them to swear anew that
they would not, under pain of losing their part in heaven, repent of it
for the future. If any hesitated to swear, he was taken out a few paces
from the rest, his face was covered with a napkin, and the soldiers
ordered to fire over his head, to terrify him into compliance. At other
times, he gathered together all the children of a district, from six to ten
years of age, and having drawn up a party of soldiers before them, told
them to pray, as they were going to be shot. When they were suffi¬
ciently frightened, he ordered them their lives, provided they answered
such questions as he proposed to them concerning their fathers, and
such as visited their houses. Claverhouse scrupled not to take an
active part in these disgraceful scenes, so far as to fire his own pistol
twice over the head of a boy of nine years of age, to induce him to
discover his father. He frequently shot those who fell into his power,
though they were unarmed, without any form of trial ; and when his
soldiers, sometimes shocked at the wantonness of his cruelty, hesitated
in obeying his orders, he executed them himself The case of John
Brown, in the parish of Muirkirk, affords an example of this kind. He
was a man of excellent character, and no way obnoxious to Government,
except for nonconformity. On the 1st of May 1684 he was at work in
the fields near to his own house, when Claverhouse passed, on his way
from Lesmahago, with three troops of dragoons. It is probable that infor¬
mation of his nonconformity had been given to the colonel, who caused
him to be brought from the fields to his own door, and, after some
interrogatories, ordered him to be instantly shot. Brown, being allowed
a few minutes to prepare for death, prayed in such an affecting strain,
that none of the soldiers, profane and hardened as they were, could be
prevailed upon to fire, upon which Claverhouse, irritated at the delay,
shot him dead with his own hand, regardless of the tears and entreaties
of the poor man’s wife, who, far gone in her pregnancy, and attended by
a young child, stood by. The afflicted widow could not refrain from
upbraiding the murderer, and telling him, that he must give an account
to God for what he had done ; to which the hardened and remorseless
villain proudly replied, — “ To man 1 can he answerable, and as for
God, I will talce him into my own hand."' The apologists of Claver¬
house have been obliged to notice the fact of his becoming the execu¬
tioner of his own sentences, in the exercise of militaiy discipline. But,
with their usual fertility in inventing excuses for his most glaring faults,
and with their wonted ignorance of human nature, they impute such

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

deeds of cold-blooded severity to a desire on his part to do honour
to the individuals on whom the punishment was inflicted ! Thus
Dalrymple, after telling us that the only punishment which Olaverhouse
inflicted was death, and that all other punishments, in his opinion, dis¬
graced a gentleman, states, that a young man having fled in the time of
battle, he brought him to the front of the army, and saying that “ a
gentleman’s son ought not to fall by the hands of a common execu¬
tioner,” shot him with his own pistol. Those who recollect the case of
poor Brown, who was neither a soldier nor a gentleman, will know how
to treat this absurd and ridiculous allegation.

The most hardened and irreligious persecutors do not always feel,
upon reflection, that ease of mind which they affect. It is said that
Olaverhouse acknowledged to some of his confidential friends, that
Brown’s prayer often intruded on his unwelcome thoughts ; and it is
not improbable that some degree of remorse at his late deed made him
show an unwonted reluctance to a murder which he committed only ten
days after. In one of his marauding expeditions, he seized Andrew
Hislop, and carried him prisoner along with him to the house of Sir
James Johnston of Westerraw, without any design, it would appear, of
putting him to death. As Hislop was taken on his lands, Westerraw
insisted on passing sentence of death upon him. Olaverhouse opposed
this, and pressed a delay of the execution ; but his host urging him, he
yielded, saying, “ The blood of this poor man be upon you, Westerraw ;
I am free of it.” A Highland gentleman, who was traversing the
country, having come that way with a company of soldiers, Claver-
house meanly endeavoured to make him the executioner of Westerraw’s
sentence ; but that gentleman, having more humanity and a higher
sense of honour, drew off his men to some distance, and swore that he
would fight Colonel Grahame sooner than perform such an ofiice.
Upon this, Olaverhouse ordered three of his own soldiers to do it. When
they were ready to fire, they desired Hislop to draw his bonnet over his
face, but he refused, telling them that he had done nothing of which he
had reason to be ashamed, and could look them in the face without fear,
and holding up his Bible in one of his hands, and reminding them of
the account which they had to render, he received the contents of their
muskets in his body. — Say, reader, who was the hero, and who the
coward, on this occasion 1 We have no doubt that every person of
genuine feeling, and whose judgment is unwarped by prejudice, will pro¬
nounce, that this man met his death with truer and more praiseworthy
courage, than Olaverhouse afterwards did, when he died “ in the arms of
victory,” to use the canting language of certain historians, “ and wiped
off the stain which he had contracted by his cruelties to the Cove¬
nanters,” — a stain which no victory, however brilliant, could efface, and
which all the art and labour of his most elocpient apologists, instead of
covering, will only serve to bring more clearly into view.

In spite of these indisputable facts, which the friends of Claverhouse

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

have never dared to deny, he is a great favourite with our author, who
has made him not only a hero, but a profound politician, and a disinter¬
ested patriot ! What cannot genius effect 1 And what will conffdence
in talents, provided it is propped by prejudice, and elevated by popular
credulity, not undertake to perform 1 The author is not contented with
holding out the character of Claverhouse in this light, — he employs all
his art, and all the powers of his eloquence, to impress it on the imagi¬
nation of his readers. This he does, partly by the description which he
gives of it in his own name, partly by what he puts into the mouths of
his most respectable characters, and partly by the manner in which he
represents this hero as speaking and acting in the interesting scenes in
wliich he is made to figure. It is not from any one of these taken
singly that we must judge of the character, but from all of them taken
together, and particularly from the last, of which extracts cannot con¬
vey an idea, although no reader can for a moment doubt of its effect
from the impression left on his mind. We shall, however, quote the
description which the author has given of Claverhouse upon his first
appearance, as an introduction to the remarks which we have to make
upon the character given of him throughout the work. After a minute
description of his person — the elegance of his shape— the gracefulness
of his gesture, language, and manners — the feminine regularity of his
features — the delicacy of his complexion, with other marks of beauty,
which “ contributed to form such a countenance as limners love to paint,
and ladies to look upon,” and his “ tone of voice of that happy modula¬
tion which could alike melt in the low tones of interesting conversa¬
tion, and rise amid the din of battle, loud as a trumpet with a silver
sound the author adds, —

“ The severity of his character, as well as the higher attributes of undaunted and
enterprising valour, which even his enemies were compelled to admit, lay concealed
under an exterior w'hich seemed adapted to the court or the saloon, rather than
the field. The same gentleness and gaiety of expression which reigned in his
features, seemed to inspire his actions and gestures ; and, on the whole, he was
generally esteemed, at first sight, rather qualified to be the votary of pleasure than
of ambition. But under this soft exterior was hidden a spirit mibounded in daring
and in aspiring, yet cautious and prudent as that of Machiavel himself. Profound
in politics, and imbued, of course, with that disregard for individual rights which
its intrigues usually generate, this leader was cool and collected in danger, fierce
and ardent in pursuing success, careless of death himself, and rathless in inflicting
it upon others. Such are the characters formed in times of civil discord, when the
highest qualities, perverted by party spirit, and inflamed by habitual opposition,
are too often combined with vices and excesses which deprive them at once of their
merit and of their lustre.” — (Vol. ii. pp. 287, 288.)

To this may be added, the comparison which the author afterwards
states between the characters of Dalziel and Claverhouse. Having de¬
scribed the exterior appearance of the former (almost in the words of
Captain John Creighton, or rather of Dean Swift, except that he men-

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 35

tions the antique fashion of his boots, an article of dress which that re¬
spectable authority tells us he never wore), the author says, —

“ His high and wrinkled forehead, piercing grey eyes, and marked features,
evinced age, unbroken by infirmity, and stern resolution, unsoftened by humanity.
Such is the outline, however feel)ly expressed, of the celebrated General Thomas
Dalziel, a man more feared and hated by the Whigs than even Claverhouse himself,
and who executed the same violence against them out of a detestation of their
persons, or perhaps an innate severity of temper, which Grahame only resorted to
on political accounts, as the best means of intimidating the followers of Presbyteiy,
and of destroying that sect entirely.” — (Vol. iv. pp. 25, 26.)

lu the first place, here is a glaring contradiction in terms. We are told
that the violences which Claverhouse executed on the Whigs, he “ only
resorted to on political accounts,” as contradistinguished from “ an innate
severity of temper.” And yet the author had before given a conspicuous
place to the “ severity of his character,” and described him as “ careless
of death himself, and ruthless in inflicting it upon others.” Or, did he
mean to impute Claverhouse’s disregard of his own life to political
considerations, and thus to divest him of personal courage and a
martial spirit (the only quality to which he had an undisputed claim),
that he might shield him from the charge of inhumanity ? Again, after
having gravely told us that Dalziel was actuated by the innate severity
of his temper, and Claverhouse solely by political considerations, “ as
the best means of intimidating the followers of Presbytery,” the author
within a little represents the latter as continuing “an unwearied and
bloody pursuit,” under the impidse of his “ fiery and vindictive ” temper,
while the former is represented as urging the pursuit entirely on political
accounts, and as a means “to mi these desperate rebels.”— (Vol.

iv. p. 62-64.)

“ Quo teueam vultus mutantem Protea modo?”

The author frequently quotes proverbs, and he may perhaps have
heard of one which is not without its meaning, — “ Better a black devil
than a white.” Where two characters are noted or even suspected for
cruelty, we would far sooner throw ourselves on the mercy of him who
is of severe brow and harsh manners, than of him whose real disposi¬
tions are concealed under a smiling countenance and the most fawning
address. We have in our eye facts directly bearing upon the case under
consideration. Dalziel was guilty of great cruelties ; yet there is at
least one instance which shows that his innate severity, hardened by a
long course of barbarous service, was not altogether unsusceptible of
hiimane impressions, and that he could treat even a puritanical prisoner
with generosity. John Paton was a captain in the Presbyterian army
at Pentland, and on that occasion had fought sword in hand with
Dalziel, whom he had encountered on the field. When he was brought
into Edinburgh as a prisoner after the battle of Bothwell, a soldier
upbraided him with being a rebel, to whom he mildly replied, “ I have
done more for the king than perhaps you have done,” referring to the

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

battle of Worcester, where he had fought for Charles. Dalziel overhear¬
ing the conversation, said, “ Yes, John, that is tme,” and turning to the
soldier, struck him with his cane, and told him he would teach him
other manners than to abuse such a prisoner. He then expressed his
sorrow for Paton’s situation, said he would have set him at liberty if he
had met him on the way, and promised that he would yet write to the
king for his life. Paton thanked him, but added, “ You will not be
heard.” “ Will I not 1 ” replied the General ; “ if he does not grant me
the life of one man, I shall never draw a sword for him again.” It is said
that he obtained a reprieve for Paton ; but he was not able to procure
his life. Now, we know of no instance of Claverhouse doing an action
of this kind, except in the fictions of the tale before us. We have men¬
tioned it to show that the Presbyterian writers, who have recorded it,
were not disposed to overlook any act of clemency towards them on the
part of those who had been the instruments of their greatest sufferings,
and also to show how grossly our author has blundered in the com¬
parison which he has drawn between the characters of these two
officers.

Whether the author took the likeness from limners or ladies, we shall
not inquire : we are willing to allow that Claverhouse’s features were
feminine, and his complexion almost effeminate. All that we maintain
is, that this soft and prepossessing exterior no more proves that he was
not cruel, than it proves that he was courageous. Without having re¬
course either to the physiognomical theory of Lavater, or the cranio-
logical system of Spurzheim, or examining either “ a Grecian statue”
or a Gothic, the author might have learned from plain history, that
individuals distinguished for their personal beauty and blandishing
manners, have been hardened, relentless, and savage in their dispositions.
Wliile the facts which we have mentioned remain undisputed, what
has he done but described a 'beautiful bloodhound, “ cool and collected
in danger, fierce and ardent in pursuing success, careless of death him¬
self, and ruthless in inflicting it upon others V’

But let iis examine the second trait in the character of Claverhouse,
by which the author attempts to throw a shade over his cruelties. He
was, it seems, profoundly versed in politics, and having imbibed the
creed of Machiavel, he had recourse to severe and violent measures, not
from any propensity to these, but from a cool conviction, deliberately
formed, that they were the means best adapted to promote the public
good, and even ultimately to lessen the effusion of human blood. This
has at least the merit of novelty. None of the former historians or
biographers of the brave Dundee ever conceived such an ingenious
thought as this. They could represent the impetuosity of his courage
as hurrying him into excesses, or they could insinuate, that the orders
which he received, or the conduct of the people whom he was employed
to suppress, rendered it necessary for him to be severe and unrelenting ;
apologies which readily suggest themselves to the lowest and most

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

illiterate ruffian that plunders and murders under the protection of a
red coat or a commission. But it never entered into their barren con¬
ceptions to send him to study in the schools of Italy, or to represent
him as initiated into all the refined and deep mysteries of the Florentine
politician. Sir John Dalrymple has told us, without alleging a single
authority, but with as great confidence and minuteness as if he had been
copying from memoirs by Dundee himself, or by his secretary, that he
“ had inflamed his mind, from his earliest youth, by the perasal of ancient
poets, historians, and orators, with the love of the great actions they
praise and describe. He is reported to have inflamed it still more, by
listening to the ancient songs of the Highland bards.” But our author
goes another way to work, and represents his hero as spending his youth
in poring over the dark pages of Machiavel, and in threading the intricate
mazes of political disquisition — an employment not very congenial to a
mind that was enraptured with the songs of ancient and modern bards.
Such are the inconsistencies and improbabilities in which writers involve
themselves, who, in describing a favourite character,

- “diseutaugle from the puzzled skein,

In which obscurity has wrapp’d them up,

Tlie threads of politic and shrewd design.

That ran through all his purposes, and charge
His mind with meanings that he never had.”

To describe Claverhouse as “profound in politics,” appears to us
ridiculous in the extreme. It is not sujiported by anything in his
character or conduct. The qualities of a profound politician are very
rarely found combined with those of a brave and enterprising officer ; —
we speak of state politics, not those of the camp. Even as to the latter,
we have never been able to see good grounds for the eulogiums that
certain writers have passed upon Dundee, although we are not disposed
to contest a point which lies without our sphere. But sure we are, that
he could have no claim to political sagacity, unless its maxims are all
comprised in the words which the author puts into his mouth, after the
victory of Both well, — Kill, kiU — no quarter,” which, with due modifi¬
cation to the state of a country not in actual insurrection, will exhaust
the whole of his political creed. To what purpose talk of “ a disregard
to individual rights, as generated by political intrigues, with reference
to a man whose whole conduct was a trampling on general and national
rights, both in his treatment of the Presbyterians, and in his attempts to
maintain a tyrant on the throne 1

Claverhouse is introduced as boasting of his disinterestedness, and it
is evidently intended that he should be believed. Ambition, we believe,
was liis ruling passion, and we feel no inclination to urge the allegation
which has been brought against him, as equally eager to share in the
fines exacted from the Covenanters as any of his brethren in arms. But
ambition is a selfish passion as well as avarice, and more destructive of
public good. Our author represents fidelity as a striking trait in Claver-
house’s character. Thus he makes him to say, “ Faithful and true, are

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

words never thrown away upon me, Mr Morton.” Had he entertained
just notions of fidelity, or respected that virtue in others, he could not
have acted as he did to the Covenanters, against whom no accusation
could be brought but fidelity in adhering to the most sacred engagements
that ever any people were brought under. The fidelity with which he
adhered to the interests of James cannot be viewed as highly meritorioiis,
when it is considered how obnoxious and odious he had made himself
by his cruelties to the opposite party. Nor should it be forgotten, that
the Viscount Dundee made proposals to King William, and employed a
bishop to ascertain the conditions upon which he might make his peace
with the new Government, although the terms offered to him were such
as to be irreconcilable with his restless and ambitious spirit. The Earl
of Melfort may be presumed to have been better acquainted with Dun¬
dee’s character than any modern author, who appears to have formed
his judgment of it chiefly from the work of a portrait-painter. We are
informed by Lord Balcarras, that this statesman wrote to the General,
that James had drawn up lus declaration of indemnity and toleration in
such ambiguous terms, that he might break his promises whenever he
pleased. And so far was Melfort from fearing that this would shock
Dundee’s nice sense of honour and fidelity, that lie communicated it as
a piece of information which he knew would be Inghly gratifying to him.
Are the words “ faithful and true” synonymous, in our author’s vocabu¬
lary, with an approbation of one of the most detestable principles of the
Machiavellian school 1 or did he expect his readers to believe that these
opposite qualities were blended in the same character?

In fine, is it alleged, in extenuation of his cruelties, that lus character
was formed “ in times of civil discord, when the highest qualities” are
“ perverted by party spirit, and inflamed by habitual opposition?” We
reply, that among all the actors in these bloody scenes, Claverhouse had
the least claim to this apology. He left his native country at an early
period of life, before he could be supposed to have taken any particular
interest in the strife of its parties ; his character, so far as it depended
on external circumstances, was formed in France and Holland ; and when
he returned to Scotland, he entered at once into all the severe and bar¬
barous measures of the Government.

It will be said that the author has allowed that Claverhouse was one
of those characters, whose high qualities are “ combined with vices and
excesses, which deprive them at once of their merit and of their lustre.”
We know that he has ; and if he had said nothing of a contrary tendency,
althoxrgh we think his language an extremely inadequate expression of
the atrocities to which it relates, still we should not have reckoned it
necessary to animadvert upon it particularly. But what we complain
of is, that he has not exhibited, as was his duty, these vices and excesses,
so as to excite a due detestation of them in the minds of his readers.
We complain, that in the representation given of him in the tale, Claver-
house’s vices are shaded, and his excesses diminished, with the most

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

glaring partiality. We complain, that excuses are made for his conduct,
to which he had no claim, or which ought to have been urged in aggra^
vation, and not in extenuation of his guilt. We complain, that his good
qualities are industriously brought forward, and unduly blazoned, and
that others are ascribed to him which he did not possess. And we com¬
plain, that by these means, a bloody, unrelenting, and remorseless
persecutor, and one of the most active and unprincipled supporters of
arbitrary and despotic power, is exhibited in such flattering colours, as to
attract admiration to a character, which, had its features been delineated
with the pencil of truth, would have excited little else than feelings of
indignation and horror. So that the author, by his description, practi¬
cally contradicts what he had admitted in general terms, and has done
what was in his power to restore to the character that merit and lustre,
to use his own phraseology, of which its vices and excesses had justly
deprived it.

A very cursory survey of the scene at Tillietudlem, when Morton’s
fate depended upon the determination of Claverhouse, will show that
our complaints are not groundless. This is evidently introduced by the
author as a fair representation of the cruelties with which Grahame
was chargeable. But how unlike to the truth ! Does Claverhouse shoot
Morton with his own hand 1 0 horrid ! No. Is Morton shot at all?
No. How, then, does he escape with his life ? Is he rescued from death
by the sudden advance of his friends, the Whigs ? Not at all. The
author is more sparing and judicious in the use of poetic machinery than
old doting Homer, who is ever depriving his heroes of the glory of a
victory, or of an act of clemency, by imputing these to the intervention
of one or other of his officious gods. Something of tliis kind was highly
proper, and it is not withheld, when Morton was afterwards to be saved
from the bloody fangs of the savage fanatics at Drumshinnel. But it
was quite unnecessary and superfluous to have recourse to any such
expedient on the present occasion. Morton is perfectly safe under the
protection of his good friends, the Tories ; and Claverhouse, after a
struggle with his sense of the duty which he owed to his superiors, and
the severe measures which he deemed necessary to repress the mutinous
spirit that was spreading through the country. Anally yields to spare the
life of Morton, though he was charged with resetting the murderer of
the archbishop, and though his spirit and talents might afterwards prove
dangerous to the Government. But is all this easily accomplished?
No, not quite easily either. It has cost the author four whole chapters,
consisting of considerably above a hundred pages of as good paper and
letter-press as any in the whole work. Let us look into them, and
examine their contents.

The tenth chapter prepares us for being admitted into “ the presence
of the dreaded chief,” by an interesting conversation on his character
between Miss Bellenden and Morton. The former, indeed, speaks with
great dread and horror of the inexorable severity of Claverhouse’s

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

character. But then we recollect that aiDprehensions for the fate of
her lover have raised her fears to an undue pitch, and if we participated
for a moment in her fears, we are relieved by Morton’s reply, “ Claver-
house, though stern and relentless, is, by all accounts, brave, fair, and
honourable.” This would have allayed the fears of even Miss Bellenden
herself, had it not been for a circumstance mentioned in a letter which
her grandmother had that morning received from the grieved and in¬
censed colonel. “The unhappy primate was his intimate friend and
early patron !” And on that account he threatened, that, “ no excuse,
no subterfuge, shall save either those connected with the deed, or such
as have given them countenance and shelter, from the ample and bitter
penalty of the law.” Morton was in this way placed in very peculiar
circumstances of danger. We should like to know something of the
history of the letter which contained this piece of new and important
information. It would be curious to know whether it had fallen into
the hands of the Cameronians, and being suppressed by them, was dis¬
covered upon Old Mortality when he was “ found on the highway near
Lockerby, in Dumfriesshire, exhausted and just expiring ;” or whether
we owe it to the researches of some of the non-jurant bishops, who
kindly communicated it to the author. The public may afterwards be
gratified with this piece of history. In the mean time, as no doubt can
be entertained of the genuineness of the letter, it unquestionably throws
new light upon the character of Claverhouse. We now cease to wonder
at the reluctance which he showed to spare Morton at the intercession
of Major Bellenden ; and if we cannot just approve of all the severities
which he afterwards practised on the Covenanters, we must at least feel
a respect for the motive which prompted him to inflict them.

In the eleventh chapter, the reader is conveyed to the battlements of
the tower of Tillietudlem, and is presented with a most charming pros¬
pect of the surrounding scenery. While he is feasting on this enchant¬
ing landscape, his ears are attracted by the distant sounds of martial
music. The expected body of cavalry make their appearance, and the
long and imposing train, and “ the glancing of the swords, and waving
of their banners, joined to the clang of their trumpets and kettle-drums,”
have “ at once a lively and awful effect upon the imagination.” They
present themselves in front of the castle ; and while the standard is
lowered “ amid the fanfare of the trumpets and the stamp and neigh of
the chargers,” “ Claverhouse himself alighted from a black horse, the
most beautiful perhaps in Scotland — he had not a single white hair
upon his whole body” — and he was shot-proof, according to the opinion of
“ the superstitious fanatics,” — and the heroic chief is instantly at the
feet of the ladies, whom he salutes “ with military politeness.”

The twelfth chapter introduces us into the presence of Claverhouse,
and we are enamoured with his personal accomplishments and captivat¬
ing manners. We are then made to listen to an account of Morton’s
danger and escape, which is continued in the succeeding or thirteenth

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

chapter. As to this, it might suffice to say, that we never once feel any
apprehension for his fate, nor think that he is in the least danger from
the severity of Claverhouse. We hear the author (not Olaverhouse)
exclaim, “ Bothwell, why do you not bring up the prisoner 1 And hark
ye,” as if he knew that he was not listened to, or believed, “ let two
files load their carabines.” We are told that a prisoner has entered the
room heavily ironed ; but we hear not the clank of his chains. This
may arise from our dulness ; but the feelings of Edith Bellenden are
not widely ditferent. “ Her blood, which rushed to her brow, made a
sudden revulsion to her heart, and left her as pale as death.” But was
this from dread of her lover’s life 1 By no means ; it arose merely from
the consciousness that he had overheard her, as he passed, use an
expression which would create jealousy in his breast. “ Cautious and
prudent as Machiavel himself,” she guards against dropping a word
which may either betray the real state of her affections, or encourage
Evandale’s hopes, while she requests his intercession in behalf of
Morton ; and with great coolness and self-command she adheres to her
first expression, “ Try it for my uncle's sake.” Indeed, it is with the
greatest difficulty that the author can get her to go through her part of
the farce with any degree of tolerable decency — by all his prompting —
by uttering a sigh for her — and at last, in utter despair, by giving her a
concealed but sure blow, which would have made her to have “ fallen
flat upon the pavement, had she not been caught by her attendant ; ”
upon which Lord Evandale very coolly leaves her, and, taking Claver¬
house into another apartment, restored his chafed commander to his
usual reason and moderation. But we may appeal to the manager of
the piece himself in support of the justness of our feelings. What does
he do 1 When he has placed the prisoner at the bar of Claverhouse,
and when, if there is any truth in history, the trial could not be long,
nor the execution of the sentence distant, he takes the reader aside, and
very gravely commences a tedious discourse, in which he unfolds the
true character of Morton — states his religious and political principles —
gives an account of his courtship — opens up the cause of his jealousy —
draws a character of Miss Bellenden’s waiting-woman — mentions how
she used to tease the poor lover — and tells a story respecting Lord
Evandale,- — not omitting to introduce, under these heads, appropriate
illustrations from Mrs Quickly and Uncle Toby. The chapter in which
all this information is contained (for it has a new chapter allotted to it)
begins in the following manner ; —

“ O my lord, beware of jealousy.” — Othello.

“ To explain the deep effect which the few broken passages of the conversation
we have detailed made upon the unfortunate prisoner, by whom they were over¬
heard, it is necessary to say something of his previous state of mind, and of the
origin of his connection with Edith. Henry Morton was one of those gifted char-
actei’s, which possess a force of talent unsuspected by the owner himself.” — And
so on to the middle of the chapter.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

“ What an absurd and disgusting digression ! Sure, Poundtext,
Eumbleberry, Kettledrummle, Heathercat, Gumblegumption, nor any
other of the gifted brethren among the Presbyterians, ever made a ser¬
mon more out of place or more wearisome than this is !” Softly, simple
enthusiast ; thou penetratest not the secret of the author, nor perceivest
the perplexities from which he must extricate himself. It is necessary
to give some feasible account of a “ singular and instantaneous revolu¬
tion ” in Morton’s character, of which the author needs to avail himself
“ for the moment.” It is necessary that Morton should conduct himself
in a rude, imprudent, and outrageous manner, in order that he may be a
fit representative of those who felt the severity of the judge before whom
he stands. Can we believe, on any other supposition, that the polite,
brave, generous, fair, and honourable Claverhouse, would have con¬
demned him to die 1 No ; he needed to be baited, bayed, challenged,
and insulted, and that by a prisoner charged with a capital offence, and
expected, as their leader, by a body of rebels, then in arms at a little
distance. And this prisoner he, after all, generously pardons at the
intercession of Lord Evandale. Say now, “ descendants of those enthu¬
siasts whom he persecuted, among whom the name of the Bloody
Clavers is held in equal abhorrence, and rather more terror, than that of
Sa'tan himself,” — say, if you can now accuse him of cruelty, or even
undue severity ; and if you are not forced to admit and admire the
uncommon clemency with which he spared the lives of your fanatical
fathers !

The character of Claverhouse having passed this ordeal, is hencefor¬
ward held forth as entitled to almost unlimited admiration and applause.
His patriotism and disinterestedness, as well as his bravery, are talked
of ; and on one occasion the reader is persuaded that he sees the tear of
humanity trickling down his soft cheek (vol. iii. p. 139). If he is seen
at Bothwell Bridge, “ like a hawk perched on a rock, and eyeing the
time to pounce on its prey,” he descends on Drumshinnel, like a pro¬
tecting angel, to save the innocent. Morton, having fallen into his
hands, is treated by him rather as a friend and companion than a pri¬
soner ; and while he enjoys the company of “ this remarkable man,” is
delighted and astonished “ by the varied play of his imagination, and
the depth of his knowledge of human nature !”

We may perhaps have dwelt too long on this flattering and fallacious
picture ; but we judged that we were performing a sacred duty to the
cause of truth, humanity, and public good, in exposing such a flagrant
attempt to recommend a character which deserves almost unqualified
detestation. We intended to have subjoined some reflections upon
the bad tendencies of a practice which has of late become too general
among our popular writers, who exert all their eloquence to exalt the
military character above every other, to invest it with “the highest
qualities,” and to throw such a dazzling glare over the display of per¬
sonal valour and martial abilities, as to conceal the cruelties with

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

which it is accompanied, and in a great measure to reconcile the mind
to it, even when it is employed to enslave mankind, and to rear or up¬
hold the empire of despotism and tyranny. But we must conclude that
part of our review which relates to the partiality shown by the author
to the oppressors of the Presbyterians ; and we cannot do this better
than by quoting a passage from a beautiful little poem which has
appeared in the Poetic Mirror, and which we should have liked to have
seen in a separate form. It is said to be written by Walter Scott. It
certainly would have done no discredit to the talents of that celebrated
poet ; but some of its most prominent sentiments — not to speak of the
style — bear so very little resemblance to his, that very few, we appre¬
hend, will be disposed to give him the merit of being its author. We
are happy, however, to perceive, by looking into his late edition of
Swift’s Works, that Mr Scott is now convinced that the treatment of
the Presbyterians, between 1660 and 1688, was a “ persecution,” of which
he appeared formerly to entertain some doubts ; and we are not alto¬
gether without hopes that at some future period his sentiments may
undergo such a revolution as to induce him to admit the justice of the
following character of Claverhouse, although he should not be able to
claim the lines in which it is so well drawn.

“ There, worthy of his masters, came
The despot’s champion, bloody Grahame,
To stain for aye a warrior’s sword,

And lead a fierce, though fawning horde.
The human bloodhounds of the earth.

To hunt the peasant from his hearth !

— Tyrants ! could not misfortune teach.
That man has rights beyond your reach ?
Thought ye the torture and the stake
Could that intrepid spirit break,

Which even in woman’s breast withstood
The terrors of the fire and flood ! ”

PART 11.

“ Yes; though the sceptic’s tongue deride
Those martyrs who for conscience died, —

Though modish history blight their fame,

And sneering courtiers hoot the name
Of men who dared alone be free,

Amidst a nation’s slavery, —

Yet long for them the poet’s lyre
Shall wake its notes of heavenly fire ;

Their names shall nerve the patriot’s hand.
Upraised to save a sinking land ;

And piety shall learn to burn

With holier transports o’er their urn ! ”

Epistle to R. S.

There is something extremely fascinating in all that is done by a
man of genius. Persons of minor talents are irresistibly attracted by his
motions, and follow him even in his eccentricities, and greatest aberra¬
tions from good sense and propriety. Since the days of the Spectator,
it has been an invariable jiractice with the authors of all periodical
works of the same literary complexion, to begin each paper with a motto
in Latin or in Greek. The author of the Tales having struck out a new
species of fictitious writing, which, it is expected, will continue as
fashionable during the nineteenth, as that of the Spectator was during
the eighteenth century, has given it a distinctive mark, by prefixing to
each chapter a select piece of English poetry. This has already become
so popular, that a friend of ours lately addressed us on the propriety of
our following the example, and prefixing a few lines of poetry to each
paper of our prosaic instructions. We could not help demurring to this
unexpected proposal, and signified, that the practice appeared to us to
savour very strongly of affectation and puerility, and that our readers
would certainly take it into their heads that we were a company of con¬
cealed poets or poetasters, who, being forced out of employment by the
badness of the times, had betaken ourselves, for the sake of making a
little money, to the business of editing religious communications, and
who would leave them and return to our old work as soon as trade
revived. “ Not at all, not at all,” said he, in a tone of decision which
rather embarrassed us ; “ you must allow me to know these things better
than you. The public are not so jealous nor so far-sighted as you think
them to be. I can tell you that the practice in question has contri¬
buted as much as anytlung to the popularity of the Tales ; and I could
not help smiling in my sleeve, to see you very gravely and philosophic-

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

ally assigning a number of reasons for concluding that they were written
by the author of Waverley and Guy Mannering, while you passed over
the most palpable and convincing of all. Ask the publisher, and I am
persuaded he will tell you that the uniform practice of purchasers, on
taking up the book, is to look at the title-page and beginning of the
chapters, and upon perceiving the poetical impress on these, they at
once draw the conclusion, and throw down the money. I can assure
you that it forms one of their leading beauties, and exhibits, in fact, that
‘ variety combined with unity,’ which you insinuated was awanting in
them. It has a most wonderful effect upon the mind of the reader — an
effect which may be compared to that of the chorus in the ancient
Greek tragedy, or of a song between the acts of a modern comedy, or of
the tuck of the drum during the intervals of evolution at a military
review, or the sound of the himtsman’s horn upon the dogs at a fox
chase ; or, not to multiply figures on a topic so evident, and to compre¬
hend all in one, like the effect of the stroke of an auctioneer’s hammer
at the end of every article of sale.” Here our friend began to recommend
to us the imitation of the style and manner of a periodical work recently
begun in this city j but on our exhibiting strong symptoms of disgust,
he desisted, and resumed his former theme. “ Well,” continued he, “I
shall undertake to provide you with a motto for the title-page of your
present volume, as appropriate as that of the Tales, from Burns’s ‘ Cot¬
tar’s Saturday Night,’ or from the Gude and Godly Ballates of Grseme
Dalyell ; — be not afraid, I do not mean Grahame of Claverhouse, or Dal-
ziel of Binns, but John Dalyell, Esq., advocate, who edited the ballads ;
and I shall also select for you an extract from Chateaubriand’s Beauties
of Christianity, to be placed in the original French, with a translation,
opposite the title ; both of which will continue to stand as a perpetual
frontispiece to all your subsequent volumes. In the mean time, lay you
in a sufficient quantity of extracts for the interior departments of your
magazine.” Not willing to differ altogether with our adviser, of whose
intelligence, as well as friendly dispositions, we have had many satisfy¬
ing proofs, we resolved to yield so far as make the trial in one in¬
stance ; and accordingly, in imitation of the Tales, we have begun the
second part of our review with a reasonably long extract from the poem
from which we quoted at the close of the preceding part.

In justice to ourselves, we must, however, observe, that neither the
example of the author of the Tales, nor the persuasions of our friend,
would have induced us to this compliance, if we had not been convinced
of two things. The first is, the intrinsic excellence of the lines which
we have prefixed, and their extreme suitableness to our purpose. They
exhibit, in a succinct form, and with much beauty and force, what we
wish to lay before our readers in greater detail in the following pages.
And indeed it would not have been easy for us to have conveyed, in so
few words, the ideas which we have of our persecuted ancestors, and of
those who made it their business to deride and calumniate them. This

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

being the case, we stand acquitted of the charge of puerile affectation.
Secondly, we are completely satisfied of the justness of the character
which they give to the sufferers. If we had entertained any doubts on
this head, or been afraid that we might not be able to vindicate our
fathers from the slander with which they are aspersed in the work
under review, we would certainly have given a less conspicuous place
to the lines in praise of them ; for we make no pretensions to that high
quality of the author of the Tales, by which he takes the liberty of
saying whatever sounds well, and is calculated to make an impression
for the moment, without considering if he can prove it, or make it
consistent with what he may afterwards advance. We do not write for
the readers of novels, nor will our ambition be gratified by gaining the
approbation of the children of credulity and the slaves of prejudice.

We flatter ourselves that we have, in the preceding part of this
review, sufficiently proved that the author, in his representation, has
discovered glaring partiality to the persecutors of the Presbyterians, by
veiling their cruelties, and by presenting their characters in a favourable
but false light. We now go on to show that he is guilty of injustice,
equally glaring, in the view which he has given of the character and
conduct of the oppressed and persecuted Presbyterians.

In drawing the character of the persecutors, the author used no small
art ; and we found it necessary to attend to the nicer touches of his
pencil, by which he blended light and shade together, and softened the
harsher features of his portraits. But here he has in a great measure
saved us the trouble of minute inspection. No one can be at a loss to
perceive, at a single glance, the characters in the Covenanting group.
They are not greatly diversified ; their features are few, they are
strongly marked, and the colours are laid on with no sparing or delicate
hand. In general they are either fools or madmen, or hypocrites and
rogues, and for the most part they are a compound of both. Look upon
them, and you instantly recognise the Puritan and precisian. Approach
nearer and examine them more narrowly, and you find them to be wild
enthusiasts and gloomy fanatics. They express themselves, even in
their ordinary conversation, in a strange, ridiculous, and incoherent
jargon, compounded of Scrip time phrases, and cant terms peculiar to
their own party opinions in ecclesiastical polity. They are utterly
destitute of all knowledge of civil rights, and of any enlightened regard
to the principles of political liberty. They are of disloyal principles,
and rancorous in their political hatred. They are enemies to all elegant
studies, as well as innocent recreations. Amidst all their affected pre¬
ciseness, and claims to superior godliness, they are selfish, and do not
scruple to have recourse to base and wicked means to advance the
good cause, or to promote their own interest. They are as much dis¬
posed to persecute as their adversaries. They are destitute of military
talents, and show themselves as incapable of vindicating their claims in
the field as of recommending themselves to the Government by the
moderation and mildness of their behaviour. In fine, many of them

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

have imbibed the principles of assassination, and are prepared to act
upon them.

Except in the last-mentioned particular, this is the character whicli
the author gives of the Presbyterians, both indulged and non-indulged,
— the only ditference between the two classes consisting in the higher
degree of extravagance and enthusiasm displayed by the latter. To
relieve the mind in some degree in contemplating this bloated and
unsightly picture, the author, by a singidar exertion of candour or of
compassion, has condescended to admit, at some distance from the
gloomy group, one rigid recusant who yet retains the humane and
social affections, in the person of a poor widow. Morton cannot be
considered as an exception. He was a Presbyterian neither in principle
nor in spirit ; he joined them from accident and irritation ; he was
never happy till he was delivered from their society, and found himself
under the protection of the amiable and accomplished Claverhouse ;
and as long as he was among them, he was unable to find an individual
with whom he could sympathise, except the liberal-minded Cuddie
Headrigg, who often, “ though with less reffnement, was following out
a similar train of ideas,” and who alone was capable of understanding
his “ chartered rights as a freeman.” To give his summary account of
the Covenanters—" One party declares for the ravings of a blood¬
thirsty madman ; another leader is an old scholastic pedant ; a third ” — •
the poor child durst not proceed farther for fear of Balfour, who ffnished
the sentence for him — “ is a desperate homicide, thou wouldest say, like
Jolm Balfour of Burley.” Did we tliink the author as weak as he has
made his hero, and had we been alone with him, as Burley was with
Morton, we would have been disposed to have taken our leave of him
with the words that follow in his narrative — “ I can bear this miscon¬
struction without resentment.” But as he has said more than he has
put into the mouth of his silly " stripling,” and as the cause is before
the public, we must have a few serious words with him on this subject
before we can agree to separate.

The good people of Scotland, who inherit any portion of the spirit of
their fathers, will, no doubt, be amazed to see those whom they have
been accustomed to revere as patriots, and to venerate as confessors and
martyrs for truth, now held up to derision as mad enthusiasts, and
reviled as hypocritical and murderous ruffians. Even those who, from
their peculiar sentiments, do not sympathise deeply with these feelings,
will be shocked at the profane levity with which the most sacred sub¬
jects are exposed to ridicule, and will feel themselves at a loss to account
for such a singular and daring attempt. But such as are acquainted
with the history of former times, and have been attentive observers of
the changes that public opinion has lately undergone, will not be surprised,
nor think that any strange thing has happened. They have for some
time anticipated an attack of this kind, and therefore are not altogether
unprepared for meeting it. They know that it is only the overffowing
of that gall and spite against the Reformation principles of Scotland,

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

religious and political, which has always lodged in the breasts of a
certain faction, and which has burst forth in consequence of the removal
of those restraints by which it was long reluctantly pent up, or forced
to vent itself in secret. They can trace the causes which have led to
this eruption. They see them in the force with which the current of
public opinion, impelled by recent events, has been directed into the old
channel of hereditary rights and royal legitimacy, to the overbearing
and carrying away of all well-grounded jealousies of arbitrary power and
slavish non-resistance. They see them in the progress of infidelity,
which natively generates a contempt for religious reformers, and which
disposes its votaries, whatever their political sentiments be, secretly to
rejoice at whatever lowers the reputation of such men, and to view with
indifference, if not with hostility, all struggles for the rights of con¬
science, provided they are combined with zeal for the preservation of a
particular creed or form of ecclesiastical polity. They see them in the
adoption, by different parties, of religious opinions very different from
those which were once almost universally embraced in Scotland, and
especially of that opinion, common to almost all of them^ — that religious
and civil concerns ought to be completely separated — a principle which
lays the proceedings of our reforming and suffering ancestors open to easy
attack, and upon which it will be found impossible satisfactorily to vindi¬
cate their conduct. In fine, they see them in the overweening conceit of the
present age, by which it is disposed to wrap itself in its own fancied acquire¬
ments and doings, and to undervalue those that preceded it ; as if there
had been nothing good and great before we were born ; and as if all the
knowledge and all the privileges, both political and religious, which we
possess, had been acquired by our own exertions or communicated to us
immediately from heaven, instead of being transmitted to us by the
faithful contendings and the blood of those who lived in former times.
All of these causes, we are of opinion, have contributed to induce the
public to favour or wink at the more partial and sparing attacks which
the author of the work under review, along with other writers of the
same stamp, has formerly made on the character of our religious fore¬
fathers. And having felt his ground, and ascertained that the danger is
not great, he has been encouraged to make the present attempt. Wliether
it shall succeed altogether according to his wishes, or whether the event
may prove that he has been too sanguine in his expectations, it is not
for us to determine.

We repeat it — we were not startled at the picture of our persecuted
ancestors presented to us in the Tales. It was not new to us. We had
often seen it before. We could recognise every feature. There is only
an alteration in the costume and border work, and a slight softening of
the colours, to adapt it to the taste of the age. In all other respects the
author has faithfully copied his great originals. This is not the first
time that the enemies of the Wliigs or Presbyterians have “ said all
manner of evil falsely against them.” None can be ignorant of this
who is acquainted with the writings of court sycophants during the

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

reigns of the two last Stuarts, and of the High Church and Jacobitish
faction after the Kevolution in England, Ireland, and Scotland — who has
read the speeches of Jefireys and Mackenzie, or consvdted the pages of
Butler, Dryden, and Swift, of Colvil, Pitcairn, and Ehind. “ ’Tis
difficult to name that ill thing which a Heylin, a Hicks, a Lessley, a
Sacheverel, a Calder, or some other very reverend divine of the like
probity, has not writ of them, or imputed to them. Who were the in¬
struments that procured the Spanish Armada to invade England in
1588 1 The Whigs. Who burned London in 1666 1 The Whigs. Who
piloted in and assisted the Dutch to burn the English fleet at Chatham ?
The Whigs. Nay, who crucified Jesus Christ 1 Who but the Whigs ?
The very children are taught to lisp out that. Calves-head feasts are
with these authors true history. Why ? Because one of themselves
wrote it, and the rest cite it, and who dares doubt it after that ^

In support of the justness of his statements, and even of the very
language which he has employed, our author can appeal to high and
learned authority. “This I am sure of,” said Lord Chief Justice Jeffreys,
“ lying is as much the talent of a Presbyterian as it can be of a Papist,
nay more ; for it is as inseparably incident to a Presbyterian (and such
snivelling, whining, canting knaves) to lie as to speak. They can no more
forbear lying than they can forbear speaking ; for, generally, as often as
they do the one, they do the other.” ^ — “We know well enough,” said
the same enlightened and liberal-minded judge, on another trial, “ you
snivelling saints can lie. When people come to gild over their bitter
pill of sedition, it is always under the pretence of religion. It is well
Icnown these (the preachers) are the belwethers of the faction, that,
under pretence of religion, come there to incense the people to commit
all these villanies that sometimes they are incited to do, as we know.
How many of them stand now convicted, by outlawry, for that bloody
treason (the Rye-house Plot) 1 I won’t say all parsons, but generally all
of them dissenters ; and we know these are those base profligate villains,
always made use of in these base sinks of rebellion. And they are the
common sewers of faction, these conventicles are, and of treason
and conspiracy against the government in church and state.” ® —
“Wlien once they had begun to pick and cull the men that should
be returned for a purpose, and got this factious fellow out of one
corner, and that pragmatical, prick-eared, snivelling, whining rascal out
of another corner, to prop up the cause and serve a turn, then truly
people’s causes were tried according to the demureness of the looks on
the one side or the other, not the justice of the cause. So, if I have a
mind to talk against the Government, I wdll not do it aloud, and speak
what I mean openly, but I will whine, and snivel, and cant ; and under
this sort of snivelling, canting, sly rate, do a man any injury whatever.” *
On the trial of Algernon Sidney, the same judge said, “ This book con-

1 Anderson’s Defence of tbe Presbyterians, ^ Howell’s State Trials, vol. x. pp. 224,

p. 4, where the authorities are given. 240, 257.

2 Howell’s State Trials, yol. x. p. 1804. ^ Ibid. pp. 366, 370.

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LAFTDLOED.

tains all the malice and revenge and treason that mankind can be
guilty of ; — and the way he makes use of, he colours it with religion,
and quotes Scripture for it, too ; and you know how far that went in the
late times,- — how we were for holding our king in chains, and our nobles
in fetters of iron.” * Mr Baxter having pleaded, on his trial, that he was
moderate in his principles respecting Episcopacy, his Lordship ex¬
claimed, “ Baxter for Bishops ! that is a merry conceit indeed ! ” And
his counsel having referred to a part of his writings, Ay !” said J effreys,
“ this is your Presbyterian cant, ‘ tndy called to be bishops,’ that is him¬
self, and such rascals, called to be bishops of Kidderminster, and other
suchlike places ; bishops set apart by such factious snivelling Presby¬
terians as himself ; a Kidderminster bishop he means, according to the
saying of a late learned author, ‘and every parish shall maintain a
tithe- j)ig metropolitan.’- — Ki chard, Richard, dost thou think we will
hear thee poison the court ? Richard, thou art an old fellow, an old
knave ; thou hast written books enough to load a cart ; every one is as
full of sedition (I might say treason) as an egg is full of meat ; hadst
thou been whipt out of thy writing trade forty years ago, it had been
happy.- — He is as modest now as can be ; but time was when no man
was so ready at, ‘ Bind your kings in chains, and your nobles in fetters
of iron ;’ and, ‘To your tents, 0 Israel !’ Gentlemen, for God’s sake,
don’t let us be gulled twice in an age !” *

Nor does our author want worthy and pertinent precedents in Scot¬
land. It would be easy to produce numerous examples to show that
our Scottish statesmen, and judges, and prosecutors, were not behind
J effreys in moderation and clemency, and elegance of mind and manners.
Rebels, fanatics, and madmen, were the mildest words which they em¬
ployed in speaking of the Presbyterians. The indulged they called
moderate fanatics ; the non-indulged, wild or m ad-cap fanatics. When
they dealt with the latter, they aggravated their offence by referring to
the conduct of their more moderate brethren ; and when the former in¬
curred their displeasure, by transgressing any of their arbitrary restric¬
tions, or scrupling at any of their ensnaring oaths and bonds, they with
great liberality told them, that the mad-caps were the most consistent
men, and that they ought to betake themselves to the hills. We find
the Lord Chancellor telling a prisoner on his trial for life, though a
gentleman by birth, that he was “ not a Scotsman, but a Scots beast.”
We find him inveighing against a respectable minister, who had done
nothing against the laws, as guilty of “ a mortal sin, a crime that was
sufficient to damn him,” because he hesitated to own that the Prince of
Wales was the son of James, and heir to his crowns. And when the
minister said, “ I hope there is more mercy with God than to damn me
for ignorance and weakness,” we find him replying : “ It is enough to
damn you, and a thousand with you ; for by your caUing this in ques¬
tion” (he had not even called it in question), “ you are guilty of their

1 Howell’s State Trials, vol. ix. p. S93. * Ibid. vol. xi. pp. 499, 501.

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

sin and damnation who follow your example.” ^ “ Linlithgow’s soldiers ’’
were declared to be good enough jurymen “ for fanaticks and we find Sir
George Mackenzie, the King’s Advocate, threatening that he would have
recourse to them, when certain juries did not find the prisoners guilty at
his dh’ection.^ On the trial of Sir Hugh Campbell of Cesnock, a wit¬
ness, upon whom the court chiefly depended, having retracted, when put
to his oath, what he had said against the prisoner in his precognition,
the gentlemen present could not refrain from expressing their joy.
Upon which the Lord Advocate said, “ that he had never heard such a
Protestant rore, except on the trial of Shaftesbury ; that he had always
a kindness for that persuasion, till now that he was convinced, in his
conscience, it hugs the most damnable trinket in nature.” *

Nor are the author’s precedents and authorities confined to the period
anterior to the Kevolution. When they were restrained from torturing
and murdering the Presbyterians, the Scottish Episcopalians and Jacob¬
ites, abusing the lenity of a new and tolerant government which they
eagerly sought to overturn, took up the pen, and, with hands yet
besmeared with the blood of their countrymen, employed it in writing
against them calumnious invectives, and scurrilous lampoons, which they
industriously circulated in England, where the facts were not known,
with the view of instigating the English Church to take part with them,
first in preventing, and afterwards in overturning the establishment of
Presbytery in Scotland.* The authors of these pamphlets were so im-

1 Cloud of Witnesses, p. 54. Wodrow,
Tol. ii. p. 642.

2 Howell, vol. viii. p. 384.

s Wodrow, vol. ii. p. 384. — There was a
close correspondence between the Lord Chief
Justice of England and the Privy Council of
Scotland, who reckoned it incumbent on
them to express a formal approbation of his
Moody campaigns, and to request his aid in
apprehending and delivering up to them
such Scotsmen as escaped from their ven¬
geance. This appears from an act of Coun¬
cil, December 3, 1684: “The Advocate re¬
presenting how ready Judge Jeffreys was to
join with the Council for support of the
Government, it is recommended to him to
signify to the judge, the great resentments
[sense] the Council had of his kindness to¬
wards this kingdom, in giving his concur¬
rence against such pernicious rogues and
villains who disturb the public peace, and
desiring he may cause apprehend the per¬
sons of hiding and fugitive Scotsmen, and
deliver them securely, on the Soots Border,
to stich as shall be appointed to receive
them.” — Wodrow, vol. ii. p. 350.

■* “ That wtiich is determined concerning
‘ all them that will live godly in Christ
Jesus,’ th.at they ‘ must suffer persecution,’
is and hath been the lot of the Presbyterian
Church of Scotland ; and a generation of
men have thus exercised her for many years,
by severities hardly paralleled among Pro¬
testants. And now when their hands are

tied that they can no more afflict her, their
tongues and pens are let loose to tear her
without mercy, by the most virulent invec¬
tives, and the most horrid lies and calum¬
nies that their -wit can invent. Besides this
pamphlet, several other prints have been
emitted by these men, containing partly liis-
torical passages full of lies and reproaches,
and partly false and spiteful representations
of our principles and way ; to w'hich an
answer, such as they need and deserve, shall
ere long be given, if the Lord permit. That
this hath not sooner been done, hath been in
a great measttre caused by the multitude of
matters of fact narrated in them, said to be
done in divers places of the nation, far re¬
mote from one another, to all which it was
necessary to send for getting a true account
of these things, and there being but one
copy of each of these books that we could
find in all Scotland, the several passages for
the diverse parts of the country behoved to
be transcribed and disjiersed. In this mat¬
ter our adversaries have used a piece of cun¬
ning, which is, that these books were spread
in England only, where the things contain¬
ed in them could not be known nor examin¬
ed ; but in Scotland (where most readers
could have discovered the falsehood of their
allegations) there never was one of them to
be found in a bookseller’s shop. But veritas
non quoerit angulos." — Vindication of the
Church of Scotland (by Principal Rule), Pre¬
face. Second edit., 1691.

When one of the party endeavoured to

■REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

pudent and brazen-faced as to deny that Presbyterians had been sub¬
jected to persecution for their religious opinions, and, at the same time
that they were pleading for a toleration for themselves, to justify all the
intolerant and barbarous measures of the two preceding reigns. “ He
relates,” says one of them, “ the sufferings of the Presbyterians in the
late reigns ; and this indeed is the general cant and grand topic of many
of their former and present pasquils against the Episcopal clergy;
whereas they should rather reflect on the then state. Such as suffered
were criminal in law ; and even hundreds were winked at, and pleaded
for by the clergy, who might have divulged and accused them. I coidd
enlarge on this head ; but Sir George Mackenzie has so baffled the Pres¬
byterian plea, in his “ Vindication of the Reign of King Charles II.,”
that it is needless to say anything till that book be answered, in which,
if I remember right, he hath this passage, ‘ None died for a principle
of religion, unless it be a religious principle to die for actual rebellion.’ ” ^
“ Leaving England to answer for itself,” says another, “ our author can
adduce no instance in Scotland of either man or woman, who, after the
Restoration until the Revolution, was either severely used, or put to
death, merely on account of their persuasion.” ^ Indeed, this last writer
very plainly intimates, that Presbyterians might expect the renewal of
the severities which they had lately endured, if ever Episcopacy was
restored. “ Though a toleration be granted,” says he, “ perhaps Prelacy
will not be restored ; and although Prelacy should be restored, yet
Presbyterians (if they please) may forbear to rebel, and so save them¬
selves from scaffolds, imprisonments, and banishments. And so all
the author’s large harangue on this head is nothing else but ridiculous
stuff.”®

As Dryden had ridiculed the English Puritans on the stage, our
Scottish Episcopalians thought it necessary to attempt something in the
same style, and therefore got up a comedy. In their preface to this
piece, they say, “ It may be objected, that for all our pretences to truth
and sincerity in matters of fact, yet we talk at random in the last scene,
where we make the Presbyterian ministers speak basely and maliciously
of all kings. This is easily answered. It may be considered that the

apologise for this by alleging that they liad
not the liberty of the press, nor of import¬
ing books, the same author replied, “ Those
of their railing pamphlets which have been
imported were never challenged, none ever
came to trouble for them, though we well
know who brought them into the kingdom.”
— A just and modest Keproof to a pamphlet
called the Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence,
p. 34.

1 A Short Character of the Presbyterian
Spirit, 1703, p. 6.

2 Toleration Defended, 1703, p. 10. A
wi-iter alre.ady quoted has said with great
justice, that such assertions are made
“with the same brow that Maimburg and
other French Popish writers do affirm, that
all the Protestants who lately in France

turned Papists did turn voluntarily with¬
out any compulsion ; and that no rigour nor
persecution hath been used to move them to
this change. This is a degree of effronted-
ness, of bidding defiance to truth and the
God of it, of bold imposing on the reason,
yea, and the common sense of mankind, that
the world doth purely owe to this age, and
to Jesuitical obduration of mind. Woe to
posterity if they be abused with such false
history ! It is little honesty to transmit such
things to after ages ; but it is the height of
impudence to jHiblish them among such
as were eyewitnesses of them, and among
whom the sad effects of them remain with
grief and smarting to this day.” — Viudic., ut
supra, p. 20.

3 Toleration Defended, pp. 18, 19.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Presbyterians are enemies to monarchy ; for this is the third time that
Presbytery has been establislied in Scotland, and still upon the death
or banishment of some of their lawful sovereigns.”- — “ The Chorus is as
pertinent as anything can be, since they, are a set of men who never
forgive an injury, and, instead of praying for conversion, they pour down
curses for the confusion of their enemies. Our design in this essay is
fully to represent the villany and folly of the fanatics, that so, when
they are in sober mood, they may seriously reflect on them, and repent
for what is past, and make amends for the future, if it he 2yossihle ; or
else, that the civil government may be awakened and roused to rid us
of this gang, who injuriously treat all good and learned men, and are
enemies to human society itself.” i The writers were abundantly sang-uine
in their expectations of success, and dreamed of nothing but blowing up
the Presbyterian Church by their well-contrived plot. To use their own
language, —

“ True Comedy should humour represent, —

I think for once we’ve well enough hit on’t,

No character’s too wild, nor yet extravagant, —

For there is nothing treated in our play
But what all know the Whigs do act and say ;

Thus, you’ve a taste of their new gospel way.”

They were, however, disappointed; the Scots saw no truth, and the
English no humour in it ; those which they had “ laid up in store ” were
not called for ; and the authors were obliged to console themselves with
the excuse, —

“ Our northern country seldom tastes of wit ;

The too cold clime is justly blamed for it.”

The truth is, they had mistaken their own talent, which did not lie in
. comedy, but in tragic scenes ; and luckily for the Presbyterians, they
did not obtain an opportunity of reacting these. “ I’ll tell thee, man,
to believe a Presbyterian protestation, is as much as to think a man
cannot cheat because he lies. I’m resolved ne’er to trust a fanatic, till
I get him on his chair of verity, the stone i’ the Grassmarket ; the
villain is then tempted to tell sometliing of the truth, — that is to say,
that he dies a rogue and a rebel.

‘ And now, since prayers are so much in vogue.

We will with one conclude this epilogue.

Let the just heav’ns our king and peace restore.

And villains never vex us any more. ’ ” "

Passing over at present “ The Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence,” and
“ The Whigg’s Supplication,” we shall finish this chain of authorities by
an extract from a work of sober argumentation, in which the following
character is given of Presbyterians : “ They are naturally rigid and
severe, and therefore conclude that God is such a one as themselves.

1 The Assembly, or Scotch Reformation, a ^ The Assembly, or Scotch Reformation, a
comedy. comedy, p. 4, and epil.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

They damn all who differ from them, and therefore think that God does
the same. And because they love themselves, they are pleased to per¬
suade themselves that they are his special favourites. Hence, they con¬
clude, that they owe them no civilities whom God neglects, nor kind
offices whom he hates. He neglects and hates all who are not capable
of his grace, which none are (say they) who are not of their way. This
wicked persuasion sanctifies not only the ill manners, but, which is
worse, the ill nature of the party towards all who differ from them. It
contradicts the ends of society and government, and is only calculated
to advance the private interest of a partial and designing set of men.” ^
In the same work it is shown that the Presbyterian spirit is enthusias-
tical — an animal or mechanical spirit — a partial spirit — a narrow and
mean spirit — a malicious, unforgiving spirit — an unconversible spirit —
a disloyal, rehellious spirit — a spirit of division — an unneighhourly,
cruel, and barbarous spirit.^

We have not made these extracts for the purpose of amusing the
reader, nor can we be charged with wantonly or unnecessarily exposing
the violence of the individuals or the party from whose speeches or
writings they have been taken. So far as this may be the consequence
of the disclosure, it is chargeable on the aggressor, and not on those
who act on the defensive, and who are allowed, nay bound, to make use
of every legitimate weapon of defence. In the first place, it is of the
greatest consequence, in judging of the truth or falsehood of a charge,
to inquire exactly into its origin, and to ascertain the character and
probable motives of the person or persons who gave rise to it. And this
is still more necessary in the case of general prejudices and vague accu¬
sations, which are not supported by reference to specific facts. In the
second place, we are of opinion, that the quotations which we have
made, while they lead to the source of the calumnies circulated against
Presbyterians, at the same time discover the grounds on which they
rest, and must dispose every candid person to regard them with the
strongest suspicion. For example, when we find Jeffreys and Sache-
verell emplo3dng the same language in speaking of the friends of civil
and religious liberty in England, which Mackenzie and Ehind applied
to the Scots Presbyterians and field-preachers, does not this afford a
strong presumption, that both were actuated by the same motives, and
that, whatever circumstantial differences might exist, the grounds of
offence given by the objects of persecution and calumny in the two
nations, were radically and substantially the same ? In the third place,
we have quoted from the very authorities upon which the author of the
Tales has depended in forming his representation. To these he must be
understood as referring, when he tells us, in the enigmatical style of his
preliminary discourse, that he has been enabled to “ qualify the narra¬
tives of Old Mortality and his Cameronian friends by the reports of
more than one descendant of ancient and honourable families, — more than

1 Bhind’s Apology, p. 208. * Ibid, passim.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

one non-juring bishop, — here and there a laird or two, — and the game¬
keepers of these gentlemen for surely he did not intend his readers
to understand him as intimating, that he had been guided literally by
traditional reports, either on the one side or the other. Lastly, although
the author has not brought forward all the charges contained in these
extracts, and has in general expressed them in more temperate language,
yet was it necessary to give them at large. It was necessary, because
almost every one of them will be found to be insinuated or involved in
some part of his representation. It was necessary, to show that some
of the authors are totally inadmissible as witnesses in this cause, owing
to the malice which they discover against the Presbyterians, and the
injuries which they had done them. It was necessary, to show that the
evidence given by others of them ought to be received cum nota,
because they discover deep prejudice, and bear testimony to many
things which are utterly incredible, or notoriously false. And it was
necessary, to put the reader in possession of the notions which they
attached to the words puritanism, fanaticism, and rebellion, with which
they have so liberally aspersed their adversaries.— We now proceed to
a more particular examination of the character which the author of the
Tales has given of the Covenanters.

And, first, of their puritanism. On this topic the author talks quite
at ease and, we dare say, never dreamt that his representation would
be controverted, or that a single question would be put to him on the sub¬
ject. Accordingly, in speaking of Presbyterians, the use of the epithets
puritanical and precise is just as much a matter of course with him, as it
is in the West Indies to speak of whites, mulattoes, and people of colour.
We are not among the niunber of those who are disposed to pay much
regard to such names, — we can hear them applied to ourselves with
indifference, and contemn the ignorant and uncivil sneer with which they
may be accompanied. But we know the influence which they have upon
the vulgar, both great and small ; and we beg leave to offer the author
an advice or two on this point. First, It is not very consistent or
becoming in one who has ridiculed the Covenanters for calling their
opponents Erastians and Papa-Prelatists, to commit the same fault, by
bandying terms which are equally reproachful, and of still more loose
and indeterminate signification. Secondly, We would advise him not
to employ, or, at least, not to repeat names of whose meaning he may
not have a distinct and definite idea. We strongly suspect that, if
interrogated, his ideas on tliis subject would be found as vague and
shifting as those of the vulgar are respecting the extreme points of
north and south. What is it that constitutes a puritan, or wherein
does precisianism lie? Does it lie in scrupling to be present at a
weaponschaw, and to shoot at a mark ? Does it lie in repining at the
use of the Common Prayer-Book, the surplice, or the sign of the cross ?
Or does it consist in laying claim to perfect spotlessness, or in confining
saintship within the pale of a particular church or party ? If so, let it

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

be proved that this ever was the sentiment of Presbyterians. Or were
they puritans because they pretended to greater strictness in practice
than the court and clergy who persecuted them? This, surely, they
might do without being “ religious overmuch,” or proudly arrogating
to themselves any uncommon degrees of holiness. Again, we would
remind the author, that the injudicious use of this senseless term of
opprobrium was in former times productive of the most ruinous conse¬
quences to those who were so foolish as to encourage the practice.
James, who had unadvisedly applied it to the principles of Presby¬
terians in his Basilicon Doron, found it prudent to retract the imputa¬
tion, even after he had ascended the English throne. Charles I. was
not equally wise. His parasitical and aspiring clergy were encouraged
to load his best subjects with this obnoxious charge, until they filled the
parliament and the army with Puritans, and brought the misguided and
unhappy monarch to the block. Untutored by adversity, and incapable
of reaping instruction from their father’s fate, the two sons of Charles
pursued the same infatuated course ; while they proscribed and perse¬
cuted the most sober and conscientious part of the nation as seditious
and disaffected persons, they employed hireling preachers, poets, and
drolls, to deride them as precise bigots and fanatical knaves ; and the
result was, that the Stuarts were driven from the throne, and, by their
merited misfortunes, proclaimed at last to tne world who were the real
bigots and fanatics. It is no good omen of the present time that a spirit
of the same kind should have been revived.

On this subject we beg leave to quote thewords of asensible author, who
wrote immediately before the breaking out of the civil war in England,
and who was no Presbyterian. “ Let us, then,” says he, “ a little farther
search into the mysterious abuse and misapplication of this word puritan.
Those whom we ordinarily call Puritans are men of strict life and precise
opinions, which cannot be hated for anything but their singularity in
zeale and piety ; and certainly the number of such men is too small, and
their condition too low and dejected ; but they which are the devil’s chiefe
artificers in abusing tins word, when they please, can so stretch and
extend the same, that scarce any civil, honest Protestant, which is hearty
and true to his religion, can avoid the aspersion of it ; and when they
list againe, they can so shrink it into a narrow sense, that it shall seem to
be aimed at none but monstrous abominable heretickes and miscreants.
Thus, by its latitude it strikes generally, by its contraction it pierces
deeply, by its confused application it deceives invisibly. Small scruples
first entitle me to the name of Puritan, and then the name of Puritan
entitles me further to all mischiefe whatsoever.” — “ There are many men
amongst us now which brooke bishops and ceremonies well enough, and
perhaps favourably interpret our late innovations ; and yet these may be
too grave to escape the name of Puritans. To be a Protestant may be
allowed, but to dispute against Papists smells of preciseness; to hold
the Pope fallible is tolerated, but to hold him Antichrist is abominable

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Puritanisme ; to goe to cliurcli is fashionable, but to complain of the
masse, or to be grieved at the publick countenance of Popery, whereby
it entwines our religion, and now drinks up that sap which is scarce
afforded to Protestantisme, or at all to take notice how far some of our
divines are hereat conniving, if not co-operating, is a symptome of a
deepe infected Puritan. He that is not moderate in religion is a
Puritan ; and hee that is not a Cassandrian, or of Father Francis
Syncter’s faith, is not moderate ; he savours too much of Calvin’s grosse
learning, exploded now by our finest wits. But I passe from this kinde
of Puritan to another, whom I shall call my political Puritan ; for the
bounds of Puritanisme are yet larger, and inclose men of other condi¬
tions. Some there are yet which perhaps disfavour not at all either
ecclesiastical! policy, or moderate Papists ; and yet, neverthelesse, this is
not sufficient to acquit them from the name of Puritans, if they ascribe
anything to the lawes and liberties of this realme, or hold the prerogative
royall to be limitable by any law whatsoever. If they hold not against
parliaments and with ship-money, they are injurious to kings ; and to be
injurious to kings is proprium quarto modo to a Puritan.

“ This detested odious name of Puritan first began in the Church
presently after the Reformation, but now it extends it selfe further, and,
gaining strength as it goes, it diffuses its poysonous ignominy further ;
and being not contented to gangrene religion, ecclesiasticall and civill
policy, it now threatens destruction to all morality also. The honest
strict demeanour, and civill conversation, which is so eminent in some
men, does so upbraid and convince the anti-Puritan, that even honesty,
strictnesse, and civility it selfe must become disgraceful!, or else they
which are contrary cannot remaine in grace. But, because it is too
grosse to deride vertue under the name of vertue, therefore other colours
are invented, and so the same thing undergoes derision under an other
name. The zealous man is despised under the name of zealot, the reli¬
gious honest man has the vizard of an hypocrite and dissembler put upon
liim to make him odious. My Lord of Downe professes, that the first
tluiig which made him distest the religion of Puritans (besides their
grosse hypocrisie) was sedition. So, grosse hypocrisie, it seems, was
the first. What is grosse or visible hypocrisie to the bishop, I know
not, for I can see no windowes or casements in men’s breasts, neither
doe I thinke him indued with St Peter’s propheticall spirit, whereby to
perceive and search into the reines and hearts of hypocrites; but let him
proceed. ‘ It is a plausible matter,’ sayes he, ‘ with the people to heare
men in authority depraved, and to understand of any liberty and power
appertaining to themselves. The profession, also, of extraordinary zeale,
and as it were contempt of the world, workes with the multitude.
When they see men goe simply in the streets, and bow down their heads
like a bull-rush, their inward parts burning with deceit, wringing their
necks awry, shaking their heads as if they were in some present griefe,
lifting up the white of their eyes at the sight of some vanity, giving

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

great groanes, crying out against this sin and that sinne in their supe-
riours, under colour of long prayers devouring widowes’ and married
wives’ houses ; when the multitude heares and sees such men, they are
carried away with a great conceit of them; but if they should judge of
these men by their fruits, not by outward appearance, they should find
them to be very farre from the true religion.’ See here the froth of a
scurrilous libeller, whereby it is concluded that he that is of severe life,
and averse from the common vanities of the time, is an hypocrite. If
these descriptions of outward austerity shall not onely show what is an
h3q)ocrite, but point out also who is an hypocrite, our Saviour himselfe
will hardly escape this description. Doubtless our Saviour, and many
of his devoutest followers, did groane, shake their heads, and lift up their
eyes at the sight of some publick sins and vanities, and did not spare to
taxe the vices of superiours, and to preach too and admonish the meaner
sort of the people ; yet who but an Annas or Caiphas will infer from
hence, that therefore their inward parts burne with deceit, and that their
end is meerely to carry away the multitude — such as judge onely by
outward appearance, and have not their senses exercised to disceme
betwixt good and evill ?

“ ’Tis a miserable thing to see how farre this word puritan, in an
ethical sense, dilates it selfe. Heretofore it was puritanicall to abstain
from small sinnes ; but now ’tis so to abstaine from grosse open shines.
In the mouth of a drunkard, he is a Puritane who refueseth his cups ;
in the mouth of a swearer, he which fears an oath ; in the mouth of a
libertine, he which makes any scruple of common sinnes ; in the mouth
of a rude soldier, he which wisheth the Scotch warre at end without
blood. It is sufficient that such men thinke themselves tacitly checked
and affronted by the unblameable conversation of Puritans.” — “ The
Papist, we see, hates one kind of Puritans, the hierarchist another, the
court sycophant another, the sensual libertine another ; yet all hate a
Puritan, and under the same name many times hate the same thing. In
the yeare of grace 1588, when the Spanish Armado had miscarried, not¬
withstanding that his Holinesse of Rome had so peremptorily christened
it, and as it were conjured for it, one of that religion was strangely
distempered at it, and his speech was, as ’tis reported, God himself was
turned Lutheran ; by which, for certaine, he meant hereticall. ’Tis
much therefore that my Lord of Downe, now that Episcopacy is so foiled
in Scotland, has not raged in the like manner, and charged God of
turning Puritan ; but surely, if he has spared God, he has not spared
any thing else that is good ; and if he has spared to call God Puritan,
he has not spared to call Puritan devill. But, to conclude, if the con¬
fused misapplication of this foule word puritan be not reformed in
England, and that with speed, we can expect nothing but a suddaine
universall dovmfall of all goodnesse whatsoever.”^

The author of the Tales is not more sparing in the use of this term of

1 A Discourse concerning Puritans, pp. 8, 41, 60, 54, 57. Printed 1641.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

reproach, and others of similar import, than his predecessors were. The
Puritan whom he exposes, is not one who scruples at a few indifierent
ceremonies, or who superciliously condemns all harmless recreations —
he is one who refuses conformity to any kind of religion which may be
enjoined by his superiors, or who is so squeamish as to stickle at occa¬
sionally transgressing the rales of decency, or laws that are vulgarly
reckoned divhie. Thus he introduces his hero as saying to Burley, “ My
uncle is of opinion, that we enjoy a reasonable freedom of conscience
under the indulged clergymen, and I must necessarily be guided by his
sentiments respecting the choice of a place of worship for his family.
(Vol. ii. p. 92.) This is passive obedience with a witness ! to the utter
prostration of the rights of conscience, and leading to all the extent of
the wicked principle of Hobbes ! The disciples of that philosopher
boasted of his discovery as calculated to put an end to religious perse¬
cution. Yes, it is so ; but it is at the expense of banishing all religion
and all morality from the world, and reducing man to the level of a
brate. Upon this principle, a person not only may, but “ must neces¬
sarily” be, a Papist at Borne, a Mahommedan at Constantinople,
and a Pagan at Pekin ; for surely it will not be pleaded, that less
obedience is due to the supreme government of a country than to an
uncle. If the author really meant what his words natively suggest, and
if he intended to express his own sentiments by the mouth of his hero,
then we cease to wonder at the partiality which he has shown to an
oppressive Government, and his want of sympathy for the objects of
persecution. There is another instance to which we must refer as a
commentary upon the author’s sentiments respecting puritanism and
precision. In describing the scene at Milnwood, when visited by a
military party, he informs us, that “ the agony of his avarice,” at the
thoughts of parting with his money, overcame old Morton’s “ puritanic
precision.” And how did this appear 1 By his making use of one of
the most vulgar, gross, and indecent words which one can apply to a
woman — so indecent, that the author, or his printer, could express it
only by giving the initial and final letters, and, ^when he afterward
introduces a trooper as using the same word, judged it fit to drop one
of these ! (Vol. ii. pp. 189, 243.) Ex ungue leonem. Such are the
refined and liberal notions of the author of the Tales ! It is “ puritanic
precision ” to boggle at an indecent expression ; and it argues the
same weakness of mind, no question, to scrapie at taking the name or
word of God in vain. And yet this is the gentleman who complains
that the Covenanters wanted “ good manners ”■ — who derides the coarse
and vulgar dialect of their preachers, and is the advocate for elegant
studies and accomplishments !

The author seems to have forgotten that he is not living in the days
of Charles II., and that the religion of the Covenanters has now obtained
the sanction of the national laws, and is the established religion of his
country. We beg leave to inform him, if he does not already know it.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

that everything for which the Covenanters contended, both in point of
principle and of practice, is contained in the standards of the national
Church. These were composed in pursuance of the Solemn League and
Covenant by the Assembly of divines, which met at Westminster, under
the authority of the Parliament of England, and during the civil war.
They explicitly contain the Calvinistic tenets, and the doctrine con¬
cerning wdiat he is pleased to denominate “ a judaical observance of the
Sabbath ; ” they assert the parity of ministers of the Gospel, in opposi¬
tion to Prelatic hierarchy ; and, in opposition to Erastian encroachments
by civil rulers, they assert that Christ is the alone King and Head of
His Church, and that He has appointed a government in it distinct from
the civil magistrate, who “ may not assume to himself the power of the
keys of the kingdom of heaven.” These, according to the author’s own
showing, embrace all the leading articles which the Covenanters main¬
tained, and for adhering to which they suffered. If, therefore, there is
any justice or force in his ridicule, the weight of it must fall upon the
established religion of Scotland. It is this which he has aU along been
deriding under the name of puritanism and precisianism. If he disap¬
proves of it, he is at liberty to do so : let him bring forth his strong
reasons, and they shall be examined ; but whether it is decent and
becoming in him to hold up its principles to derision, as if they were
unworthy of serious argument, we shall leave the public to judge, when
the cause is fairly before them.

If he shall say, that he has not ridiculed these principles, but merely
the conduct of those men who maintained them in former times, — we
deny this ; and we add, that these constitute the merits of the cause ;
and, provided they are cleared from misrepresentation, the portion of
ridicule which remains in the Tale will turn out to be excessively
trifling and childish. What did our Presbyterian ancestors do, but
maintain their religious profession, and defend their rights and privi¬
leges, against the attempts which were made to wrest these from
them 1 This was the body and front of their offending. And were
they not entitled to act this part 1 Were they not bound to do
it ? What although, in discharging this arduous duty in times of
unexampled trial, they were guilty of partial irregularities, and some of
them of individual crimes 1 What although the language in wliich they
expressed themselves was homely, and appears to our ears coarse, and
unsuitable to the subject 1 What although they gave a greater promin¬
ence to some points, and laid a greater stress on some articles, than we
may now think they were entitled to ? What although they discovered
an immoderate heat and irritation of spirit, considering the barbarous
and brutal manner in which they had long been treated 1 What
although they fell into parties, and quarrelled among themselves, when
we consider the crafty and insidious measures employed by their adver¬
saries to disunite them ; and when we can perceive them actuated by
honesty and principle, even in the greatest errors into which they were

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

betrayed ? These, granting them to be all true, may form a proper
subject for sober statement, and for cool animadversion ; but never for
turning the whole of their conduct into ridicule, or treating them with
scurrilous buffoonery. No enlightened friend to civil and religious
liberty— no person, whose moral and humane feelings have not been
warped by the most lamentable party prejudices, would ever think of
treating them in this manner. They were sufferers — they were suffering
unjustly — they were demanding only what they were entitled to enjoy
— they persevered in their demands until they were successful — and to
their disinterested struggles, and their astonishing perseverance, we are
indebted, under God, for the blessings which we enjoy. And we can
assure our author, that his statements are not so correct, nor his ridicule
so well directed and powerful, as to deter us from their vindication.

We may add, though the observation is of inferior moment, that the
author is here guilty of a violation of propriety, in a literary point of
view. He has been pleased to send his book into the world as the work
of the usher of one of our parochial schools, edited and arranged by his
patron, the “schoolmaster and parish-clerk.” Now, all our parochial
teachers are bound by law to subscribe the Confession of the national
Church. Yet the schoolmaster of Candercleugh publishes, with high
encomiums, a work which is intended to ridicule, as puritanical, the
principles of that Church of which he is a member, and of those stand¬
ards to which he is supposed to have given the seal of his approbation.
If decorum of character is thus sacrificed to the gratification of a freak,
we need not be surprised to find it violated for the sake of gaining
higher ends.

But we proceed to consider the charge of enthusiasm and superstitious
fanaticism. The judicious reader will perceive, that several of the
remarks already made are applicable to this topic of declamation. We
shall separate the charge of superstition from that of fanaticism. There
can be no doubt that the author intended to ridicule the superstitious
and puritanical preciseness of the Covenanters, by imposing Scripture
names upon the fictitious characters of the i^arty that he has introduced.
Thus, we have Silas Morton, Gabriel Kettledrummle, Ephraim Mac-
briar, Habakkuk Mucklewrath. He borrowed this from the English
plays written in derision of the Puritans. But if he had taken time to
examine into the fact, he would have found that the Presbyterians of
Scotland were not then addicted to this practice any more than they are
at present. This was perhaps beneath his notice, moreover it would
have spoilt a great part of his humour ; for it is evident that the sound
of a name is with him a high point of wit. Of the same species of just
ridicule and accurate representation is his practice of making his
covenanting interlocutors thee and thoto one another, and withhold the
title of Mr from those whom they address, as if they had adopted the
precise principle of Quakers on this head ! (Vol. iii. p. 152-8, et jxissim.)
Yet, in his usual self-contradictory way, he introduces them in other

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

places as declaiming against Quakerism. This he does, to be sure, to
ridicule them as persons who were continually inveighing against all
sects but their own ; without knowing, or at least without letting his
readers know, that they were necessitated to be more explicit in such
disavowals, by the artful malice of their adversaries, who imputed the
tenets of Quakerism to them, because they refused the ensnaring oaths
imposed by Government.

But the author has in reserve a stronger proof of the superstition of
the Covenanters, which we may not be able so easily to set aside or
evade. They firmly believed that certain men, if not also beasts, were
gifted by the enemy of mankind with preternatural means of defence,
and that it was impossible to shoot them, at least with lead ! While
Burley reacted in his dream the bloody scene of Archbishop Sharp’s
murder, he exclaimed, “ Fire-arms will not prevail against him — Strike
—thrust with the cold iron.” (Vol. ii. p. 123.) But the best description
of this trait in the covenanting character is in the account of Claver-
house’s behaviour at the battle of Drumclog.

“The suiter stitious fanatics, who looked upon him as a man gifted by the Evil
Spirit with supernatural means of defence, averred that they saw the bullets recoil
from his jack-boots and buff-coat like hailstones from a rock of granite, as he
galloped to and fro amid the storm of the battle. Many a Whig that day loaded
his musket with a dollar cut into slugs, in order that a silver bullet (such was their
belief) might bring down the persecutor of the holy kirk, on whom lead had no
power. ‘Try him with the cold steel,’ was the cry at every renewed charge —

‘ powder is wasted on him.’ — Ye might as weU shoot at the old enemy himself.” —
(Vol. hi. p. 69.)

Before replying to this, we shall make the author’s case a little
stronger. We learn from “ Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence Displayed,”
that the Presbyterian preachers made the people believe that “the bishops
were all cloven-footed,” and that “the generahty of the Presbyterian
rabble in the west will not believe that bishops have any shadows as an
earnest of the substance, for their opposing of covenant work in the
land.” It is true that Dr Gilbert Kule affirms, that he never before
heard that any Presbyterian entertained such a thought. But we shall
be more liberal to our author, and shall take it for granted that what
he has stated is true. He must be understood, then, as meaning, that
the belief of such preternatural powers was peculiar to the Covenanters,
else it could be no reason for characterising them as “ superstitious
fanatics.” But what will he say, if we can produce the example of a
whole parliament at that period gravely giving their sanction to an
opinion at least equally incredible ? In the attainder of the Marquess
of Argyll for high treason, one of the heaviest articles of charge against
him is supported by the following miraculous proof : “ Insomuch that
the Lord from heaven did declare his wrath and displeasure against the
aforesaid inhuman cruelty, by striking the tree whereon they were
hanged, in the said month of June, being a lively fresh-growing ash

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

tree, at the kirkyard of Denoone, amongst many other fresh trees with
leaves, the Lord struck, the same tree immediately thereafter, so that the
whole leaves fell from it, and the tree withered, never bearing leaf
thereafter, remaining so for the space of two years ; wliich being cut
down, there sprang out of the very heart of the root thereof a spring
like unto blood popling up, running in several streams, all over the
root, and that for several years thereafter, until the said murderers, or
their favourers, perceiving that it was remarked by persons of all ranks
(resorting there to see the miracle), they did cause houck out the root,
covering the whole with earth, which was fidl of the said matter like
blood.”^ If this example does not suffice, we shall give another, from
a writer whose principles are akin to those of our author. Mr Scott, in
a note to the Lady of the Lake after adducing a great number of facts
in support of the Taisch, or preternatural gift of Second-Sight, con¬
cludes rather reluctantly, and not without some symptoms of scrupu¬
losity : “ But, in despite of evidence, which neither Bacon, Boyle, nor
Johnson, were able to resist, the Taisch, with all its visionary proper¬
ties, seems to be now universally abandoned to the use of poetry.”^ It
certainly was not the design of Mr Scott to represent the philosophers
to whom he alludes as men of weak and superstitious minds, merely
because they had not emancipated themselves from a popular prejudice.
And we are inclined to thmk, that the author of the Tales will now be
sensible of the rashness of his censure. But if he shall still be disposed
stoutly to affirm that the Covenanters were “ superstitious fanatics,”
we shall leave him to contest the point with the shades of “ Bacon,
Boyle, and Johnson.”

“ The eagle saw her breast was wounded sore,

She stood and weeped much, but grieved more :

But when she saw the dart was feather’d, cried.

Woe’s me, for my own kind hath me destroyed.”

Among aU the terms of reproach which are ordinarily employed to
excite contempt or odium against an individual or a party, there
are none more vague, or used with less sense and discretion, than
enthusiasm and fanaticism. They serve the same purpose against the
friends of religion, that sedition and leasing-making have often done
against the best friends of the state, when employed by profligate minis¬
ters and their base supporters to stigmatise and run down all who
oppose their corrupt measures and pernicious plans. Every pert infidel,
every superficial sciolist, every conceited witling, every elegant trifler in
prose or in verse, thinks he has a right to apply the names of enthusiast
and fanatic to persons who are greatly superior to him in intellect, and
in all rational and useful information. While such persons “ set their
mouth against the heavens ” in affronting God, ‘‘ their tongue walketh
through the earth ” in reviling those who bear his image, who seek to
obey Him, and are zealous for his rights and honour. Were they to

1 Howell’s State Trials, vol. v. p. 1384. * Note vi. to canto first.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

think rationally but for a moment, they would be ashamed to “ speak
evil of the things which they know not.” No sensible and modest per¬
son will be forward in interposing his judgment as to any art or science
of which he is ignorant, which he has not made it his business to study,
and for which, instead of having a relish, he may feel a repugnance,
especially in relation to a point contested among those of the same pro¬
fession. And why should it be otherwise in religion, to the obligations
and feelings of which there are so many who are notoriously and
lamentably insensible and dead 1 What right can he, who perhaps
never looked into the Bible except for the purpose of turning it into
a jest-book, who never performed an act of demotion except from hypo¬
crisy or for fashion’s sake, who during the whole course of his life
never spent a serious moment on the subject of religion, — what right
can such a person have, or what capacity has he, to judge between the
genuine though ardent emotions of a devout breast, and the reveries
and irregular fervours of a heated or disturbed imagination ?

Nor is this incapacity confined to those who labour under an absolute
destitution of religious principle and feeling. A man may not be blind,
and yet he maybe incapable to judge correctly of the imitative beauties
of the pencil ; he may not be deaf, and yet he may have no ear for
musical harmony ; he may be a parent, a brother, and a citizen, and yet
be exceedingly deficient in parental, generous, and patriotic feeling. To
such a person, the emotions expressed, the zeal that is testified, the
interest that is taken, the sacrifices that are made by the devoted lover
of painting, music, kindred, and country, will appear to be dispropor-
tioned, extravagant, unreasonable, ridiculous, and, in one word, enthusi-
astical. And he would say so, i^rovided he was not restrained by habit,
or by prudential deference to general feeling, and provided he was
taught to correct his erroneous conclusions by attentive observation,
and the rigid exercise of his reasoning powers. Let a person whose ear
is not attuned to harmony join a company of musical inamoratos — let
him listen to them while they converse in the dialect peculiar to their
art, and while they give an unrestrained vent to their emotions —
let him attentively observe them while they are enjoying the indescrib¬
able charms of the full and varied concert — let him mark their gestures
— the expressions of their countenance — the signs of ravishment which
they exhibit, while they now lift up their eyes to the heavens, as if they
were totally abstracted from sublunary things, and anon quench and
seal up their visual orbs, as if they were determined never again to
open them to the light of day^ — the tremulous thrill which pervades
and agitates their whole frame — their soft susurrations, gradually rising
into more audible murmurs, or abruptly bursting into an ecstatic peal
— the languishing attitudes in which they throw themselves, and their
dying falls — not to mention the grimaces, the contortions of feature,
the antic airs and gesticulations, or the whining tones which some of
them are accustomed to assume ; — let the spectator who nas no accordant

EE VIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOED.

or sympathetic feeling, and who has never thought seriously on the sub¬
ject, observe all this, and let him express his genuine sentiments, and we
have no doubt that they will correspond to the statement wluch we
have given. — But we must leave it to the intelligent reader to apply
this illustration to the expressions of devout feeling and evangelical
experience, under the modifications which the nature of the subject will
suggest.

Do we, then, deny that there was any enthusiasm or fanaticism among
the Covenanters 1 We do not. None who is acquainted with human
nature, or with the liistory of mankind and of the Church, would expect
this in the circumstances in wdiich they were placed. We know that,
during the latter part of the persecution, a small sect arose called
Gibbites, or Sweet Singers, whose opinions and practices were in a high
degree extravagant and impious ; but they were disowned by the whole
body of Presbyterians, were always few in number, and soon melted
away. And it is much to the credit of the people of Scotland, in point
of intelligence and soundness of religious principle, that not only at
this time, when their spirits were much heated, but also during the
interregnum, when innumerable sects, many of them holding the most
fantastic opinions, sprung up in the neighbouring kingdom, none of these
appeared (a few converts to Quakerism excepted) in this country. We
know also, that, after the battle of Bothwell Bridge, a number of
Presbyterians, under the conduct of Cameron and Cargill, proceeded
formally to disown the government, and advanced opinions respecting
the essential qualifications of magistrates in a reformed land, and respect¬
ing the extraordinary execution of justice by private individuals, which
were unjustifiable and dangerous. But if we examine the matter with
candour, we will find that they were driven to these extremes by the
intolerable oppression of government ; and that their errors proceeded
from their understandings being perplexed by intricate questions, which
were in some respects forced upon them, in circumstances certainly not
favourable to cool and dispassionate investigation, and not at all, as
their adversaries alleged, from principles of disloyalty and insubordina¬
tion, or any desire to gratify their passions, by involving the nation in
anarchy and blood. We will find them retracting, explaining, or modify¬
ing their declarations, or particular expressions in them, which were
most obnoxious to blame, or of whose dangerous tendency they became
convinced — a behaviour no way resembling that of fanatics, who are
infiamed by contradiction, and plunge from one excess into a greater.
In fine, they were in other respects, as a body, sober and pious men,
desirous of living peaceably, and who afterwards did live peaceably
under a government which knew how to treat them with lenity.
“ Oppression makes a wise man mad,” but it does not convert him into
a madman ; as the torture does not make an honest man a liar, although
it may extort from him a falsehood. Let the violent pressure which, for
the moment, overcame him, be removed, and he will return to his wonted

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

sobriety and self-command, and act like any other man. Besides, the
followers of Cameron formed but a very small part of the Covenanters
of Scotland.

With respect to the field-preachers in general, and those who adhered
to them, it may be allowed that their religious feelings were wound up
to a high pitch. Everything in their situation contributed to produce
this efiect, — the sutferings that they had endured — the dangers to which
they were exposed — the jeopardy in which their life stood every hour —
the hairbreadth escapes which they made— the wild scenery of the spots
on which they assembled to perform their religious services, with the
many affecting recollections with which it was associated — all served to
raise their minds to an uncommon degree of fervour-. But still this
was not enthusiasm in the bad sense of the expression. It was a high
tone of excitement which has been felt by the noblest, the purest, and
the most enlightened minds — by patriots, who have stood forth, in times
of danger, to defend the injured rights of their country; and by con¬
fessors, who have been raised up, in times of defection, to plead for the
more sacred rights of their God. Such were the feelings of the Prophet
when, in similar circumstances, he said, “ I have been very jealous
for the Lord God of Hosts ; for the children of Israel have forsaken thy
covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the
sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life to take it away.”
Weaknesses or excesses are often mingled with the best and most pious
feelings — the exercise of Elijah was not exempted from these — but still
they are too sacred to be rudely touched by the profane hand. How
differently does the same subject affect different minds ! The author of
The Sabhath selected the character of the Covenanters for the warmest
encomium; the author of “ The Tales” has fixed on it as deserving the
most unsparing censure. To the eye of the former, a conventicle pre¬
sented a subject for the finest poetic description; in the eye of the
latter, it is an object of derision and merriment. The former viewed
it as an assembly of men who were met to worship God according to
the dictates of their conscience, at the peril of all that was dear to them
on earth ; the latter can see nothing in it but a tumultuary gathering
of discontented and fiery spirits, held in defiance of law, and with the in¬
tention of resisting the lawful exercise of authority. The former describes
the field-preachers as dividing “ the bread of life” to their hearers, and
administering to them those heavenly consolations which were peculiarly
adapted to the situation of hardship and peril in which they were
placed ; the latter represents them as fosterers of the wildest fanaticism,
and trumpeters of sedition and rebellion. The former was charmed with
the ardent and sincere piety that breathed from the lips of the speaker,
and beamed on the delighted countenances of his hearers, as “ o’er their
souls his accents soothing came ;” the latter seeks entertainment by
discovering matter for ridicule in the preacher’s tones and gestures, and
in the coarse garb and humble appearance of the greater part of his

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

audience. The picture exhibited by the former is solemn, pleasing, and
deeply interesting ; that which is held out by the latter is mean, vulgar,
and disgusting. Both cannot be genuine representations. No one will
doubt, for a moment, which of the two displays the finest feelings in the
artist ; and whether the poet or the humourist has kept most closely to
the truth of nature, may appear in some degree from what follows.

The character given of the Covenanters, in the persons of Mause and
Kettledrummle, is in a style of such glaring and extravagant caricature,
that we would not have deemed it necessary to notice such misrepresenta¬
tions, farther than by expressing our astonishment that any writer should
have risked his reputation by publishing them, had it not been that we
are aware of the ignorance that prevails on this subject, even with many
who are otherwise well-informed persons. On this account we con¬
descend to enter on the subject. The author’s ridicule turns chiefly upon
the following points ; — that their ordinary conversation was interlarded
with Scripture phrases — that they were guilty of gross and ludicrous
misapplications of these — that they were constantly harping upon cer¬
tain cant phrases, expressive of their party-opinions, or relating to tlieir
ecclesiastical disputes — and that the style in which their preachers
usually indulged was mean, coarse, incoherent, and rhapsodical.

The people of Scotland, since the Reformation, have been always well
acquainted with their Bible, and it was the natural consequence of this
that its language should mingle with their speech, and give a tone to
their conversation and mode of thinking. This, instead of being dis¬
creditable, is highly honourable to them, and has contributed, more than
many are aware of, to raise their character, in point of intelligence,
above tiiat of the lower orders in any other country. Strangers have
remarked the fact, and have been astonished at it, while they were
ignorant of the cause. A ploughman in Scotland is not, what he is
everywhere else, a clown, according to the idea which that term usually
suggests ; and this distinction he owes chiefly to his familiar acquaint¬
ance with his Bible, which he has been accustomed to read, or to hear
read, from his childhood. When he has been so much indebted to it,
why should he be hindered from quoting it, or exposed to ridicule for
employing its phraseology, provided this is done without an intention
or a tendency to burlesque or profane it 1 With this qualification, we
may assert that the Bible is to the common people what the writings
of Homer are to the learned ; and every person of good feeling will be
as much pleased to hear them adopting a phrase, or quoting a verse,
with propriety, from the Scriptures, as to hear a person of literature
making the same use of the Greek or Roman classics. By 'propriety we
mean, not elegance and point, but such justness as may be expected
from persons in tlieir condition. Among the better informed part even
of the English nation, during the 17th century. Scripture language was
so far from being uncommon, that we find it used very liberally in both
Houses of Parliament. The speech of Lord Falkland on the question

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

respecting Episcopacy, and of Lord Shaftesbury respecting the state of
Scotland, in which he not only quoted, but commented on a passage in
the Song of Solomon, are well-known proofs of this.^ Nor is the
practice altogether gone into desuetude in the present time, among
persons who would not take it well to he ranked with enthusiasts or
fanatics. We could mention more than one of our modern poets who
have borrowed some of their finest passages from the Bible, and made
their descriptions “ more impressive by the orientalism of Scripture,”
although they have not thought it proper to make those acknowledg¬
ments of the debt which they are forward to render to every old ballad
or musty play. Our Poet Laureate, too, can scarcely compose three
sentences in prose without a Scripture phrase or allusion. And his
example has been imitated of late among ourselves, accompanied with
an evident attempt to excel him in this quality of style. In the follow¬
ing extracts, we have specimens of typical, allegorical, and prophetical
applications, — an enumeration which nearly comprises all the senses of
Scripture allowed by Popish interpreters. “ It seemed that Buonaparte,
on his retirement to Elba, had carried away with him aU the offences
of the French people, like the scape-goat which the Levitical law
directed to be driven into the wilderness, laden with the sins of the
children of Israel.”^ “Still, from the disaffection of the soldiers, and
the discontent of the Eevolutionists, there arose, even in the halcyon
months of the restoration, a cloud on the political horizon, at first as
small as that seen by the prophet from Mount Carmel, but wliich
ceased not to increase, until the Monarch of France, like the King of
Israel of old, betook himself to his chariot and horses, and was fain to
seek for shelter until the storm had passed away.” ® “ The shower of
honour and emoluments fell above, below, and around, but it reached
not Sir Thomas Picton, whose name and fortunes, like the fleece of
Gideon, remained unmoistened by the dew that distilled on all others.”^
After speaking of the miserable result of all that has been done for Spain,
the author adds, “ But deeply convinced, as we are, that as yet ‘ the end
is not,' we proceed to detail those unexpected and deplorable events,”
(kc.® If not intended, it is a striking coincidence that the Tales of My
Landlord should have appeared so seasonably as an antidote to this
disposition to puritanical enthusiasm ; and we can scarcely help
suspecting, that the sermon of Ephraim Macbriar, in particular, is a
concealed satire upon the following passage of an Address of the City of
Edinburgh : — “ It is with far other thoughts, and far happier prospects,
that we now again lay our duty at the feet of your Royal Highness,
with feelings which can be likened to none but those of the survivors of
the primeval world, when, looking forth from the vessel in which they
had been miraculously preserved, they perceived that God had closed,

1 Bushworth, vol. i. part 3, p. 182. Wodrow, vol. iL App. No. 4.

- Edinburgh Annual Register, vol. vii. p. 290.

3 Ibid. vol. vii.,p. 293. < Ibid., p. 255. ^ Ibid. p. 317.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

in His mercy, the fountains of the deep which He had opened in His
wrath ; that the wind had passed over the waters and assuaged the
force ; while the reappearance of ancient and well-known mountains
and land-marks, hidden so long under the billows of the inundation,
warranted a just and purer confidence that the hour of its fury had
passed away.”*

But perhaps the fault of the Covenanters did not lie in their liberal use
of Scripture, but in the unnatural, extravagant, and ridiculous applica¬
tions which they made of it. We are afraid that it will be difficult to
exculpate some of the extracts which we have given above from this
charge ; and it would be easy for us to produce recent examples of a
still more glaring kind. What would the reader think of a passage of
Scripture relating to the redemption of mankind, and the exaltation of
our Saviour, being formally applied to the conclusion of the late war,
and the restoration of the Bourbons 1 Yet this has been done by one
who is neither a Whig nor a Presbyterian.^ With respect to the ludi¬
crous perversions of Scripture by the Covenanters, they are the pure
fictions of the author of the Tales. We do not recollect to have any¬
where met with a more barefaced attempt to impose upon the public.
All unprejudiced persons, even those Avho have no favour for Presby¬
terians, have been obliged to admit the exaggeration ; and those who
are acquainted with the subject know that, with the exception of a few
phrases which have been gathered from the books of the Covenanters,
and inserted as best served the author’s purpose, the whole representa¬
tion is fanciful and false. We have particularly in our eye at present
the speeches put into the mouth of Mause and the preacher on the road
to Loudon hill ; although the remark is by no means confined to that
scene. We have selected it because it affords us an opportunity of
bringing the autlior’s statement to the test, and enabling the reader to
judge of its truth or falsehood. Two years after the period to which the
Tales relate, when persecution had inflamed themincls of the sufferers to
a much higher degree, two women, who had embraced the sentiments
of Cameron and Cargill, were executed at Edinburgh. Let the reader
peruse their examinations and dying speeches, which are preserved, and
compare them with the speeches and behaviour of Mause, and he will
perceive at once the truth of our averment.® The language of these
sufferers is such as might be expected from unlettered females, but it is
such as does not disgrace the common people of Scotland. The inquisi¬
torial interrogatories of the court discovered that they had imbibed one
or two opinions of an extravagant and dangerous nature ; but their
manner of avowing these was sober, and even dignified, compared with
the behaviour of their judges and accusers. The following is part of the
examination of Isabel Alison, written by her own hand with an artless

1 Address of the City of Edinburgh to the James Walker, StPeter’sChapel, Edinburgh,

Prince Regent, in December 1813. 7th July 1814.

2 Sermon on Psalm oxviii. 23. By the Rev. 3 cloud of Witnesses, pp. 77, 78,

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

simplicity. “ The bishop said, Wherein is our doctrine erroneous 1 I
said, That was better debated already than a poor lass could debate it.
They said. Your ministers do not approve of these things ; and ye have
said more than your ministers ; for your ministers have brought you on
to these opinions, and left you there. I said. They had cast in baits
among the ministers, and harled them aside ; and although ministers
say one thing to-day, and another to-morrow, we are not obliged to follow
them in that. Then they said they pitied me ; for (said they) we find
reason and a quick wit in you ; and they desired me to take it to ad¬
visement. I told them, I had been advising on it these seven years, and
I hope not to change now. They inquired, mockingly, if I lectiired any ?
I answered, Quakers used to do so. They asked if I did own Presby¬
terian principles 1 I answered, that I did. They asked if I was
distempered ^ I told them I was always solid in the wit that God had
given me. Lastly, they asked my name. I told them if they had staged
me they might remember my name. Then they caused bring Sanquhair
Declaration, and the pajoer found on Mr Eichard Cameron, and the
papers taken at the Queen’s Ferry, and asked if I would adhere to
them 1 I said I would, as they were according to the Scriptures, and I
saw not wherein they did contradict them. They asked if ever Mr Welsh or
Mr Riddell taught me these principles 1 I answered, I would be far in
the wrong to speak anything that might wrong them. Then they bade
me take heed what I was saying, for it was upon life and death that I
was questioned. I asked them if they would have me to lie. I would
not quit one timth though it would purchase my life 1000 years, which
ye cannot purchase, nor promise me an hour. They said. When saw ye
the two Hendersons and John Balfour 1 Seeing ye love ingenuity, will
ye be ingenuous and tell us if ye saw them since the death of the bishop.
I said, They appeared publicly within the land since. They asked if I
conversed with them within these 12 months I at which I kept silence.
They urged me to say either Yes or Nay. I answered. Yes. Then they
said, Your blood be on your own head ; wm shall be free of it. I answered.
So said Pilate ; but it was a question if it was so : but ye have nothing
to say against me but for owning of Christ’s truths and His persecuted
members ; to Avhich they answered nothing. Then they desired me to
subscribe what I owned. I refused, and they did it for me.”^ We have
appealed to a case the most favourable to our author, in order that we
might prove, a fortiori, the falsity of his representation; for otherwise
we do not allow that the principles of these women afford a fair speci¬
men of those which were held by the great body of the Covenanters
who attended field conventicles at the period to which the Tales refer.

We can bring the matter to a still more direct and decisive test, with
respect to the character of Gabriel Kettledrummle. Under this name
there can be no question that the author had his eye upon Mr John
King. For we know, from his history, that he was the minister taken

^ Cloud of Witnesses, p. 7S 80.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

prisoner by Claverliouse on the morning of the battle of Dmmclog, led
as a prisoner to the field, and released by the victorious Covenanters in
the manner described by the author. Now, King was again taken
prisoner after the battle of Bothwell, and was executed ; and we have
an account of his trial, and the speech which he wrote and delivered
before his death.^ The perusal of these will convince every reader that
the author has been guilty of most inexcusable and outrageous misre¬
presentation. The author describes him as one of the boute-feus of the
party, as infiaming the multitude to the highest pitch, defending “ the
mingled ravings of madness and atrocity,” and supporting those who
insisted on disowning the authority of Charles. — (Vol. iii. pp. 102, 162,
178, 188 ; iv. 10.) Contrast with this the following declaration by
King immediately before his execution ; “ The Lord knowes, who is
the Searcher of hearts, that neither my designe nor practice was
against his Majesty’s person and just government, but I alwayes in¬
tended to be loyal to lawful authority in the Lord. I thank God my
heart doth not condemne me of any disloyalty ; I have been loyal, and
do recommend it to all to be obedient to higher powers in the Lord.
And that I preached at field-meetings, which is the other ground of my
sentence, I am so far from acknowledging that the Gospel preached
that way was a rendevousing in rebellion (as it is termed), that I bless
the Lord that ever counted me worthy to be a witness to such meetings,
which have been so wonderfully countenanced and owned, not only to
the conviction, but even to the conversion of many thousands ; yea, I
do assert, that if the Lord hath had a purer church and people in this
land than another, it hath been in and among these meetings in fields
and houses, so much now despised by some, and persecuted by others.
That I preached up rebellion and rising in armes against authority, I
bless the Lord my conscience doth not condemn me in this, it never
being my designe ; if I could have preached Christ and salvation in His
name, that was my work, and herein have I walked according to the
light and rule of the word of God, and as it did become (though one
of the meanest) a minister of the Gospel. I have been looked on by
some, and misrepresented by others, that I have been of a divisive and
factious humour, and one that stirred up division in the Church ; but I
am hopeful that ye will give me charity, being within a little to stand
before my Judge, and / tke Lord that He will forgive them that
did so misrepresent me : But I thank the Lord, whatever men did say
of me concerning this, I have often diswaded from such wayes, and of
this my conscience bears me witness.” His last words were : “ Now I bid
farewel with all my friends and dear relations. Farewel, my poor
wife and child, whom I leave on the good hand of Him who is better
than seven husbands, and will be a father to the fatherless. Farewel,
all creature comforts, and welcome everlasting life, everlasting glory,
everlasting love, and everlasting praise. Bless the Lord, 0 my soul,

^ Naphtali, p. 466, edit. 1693. Wodrow, vol. ii., p. 83-86.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

and all that is within me.”^ If it should be alleged that the author did
not intend to confine himself to a description of the character of King,
this shift will avail little. For Mr Kid, another minister who suffered
along with him, expressed himself in the same terms.^ Nay, of all the
ministers who were at Both well (and there were at least fourteen there),
there were not above two who differed from Mr King in this respect,
and the high and violent measures proposed were urged chiefly by a
few private gentlemen, and especially by Robert Hamilton, a forward
young man, who had got himself introduced to the chief command of
the Covenanting army. We may afterward advert to this fact more
particularly, but we cannot omit at present calling the attention of our
readers to it, because it is of very considerable importance ; and it has,
we apprehend, been misstated, not only by the author of the Tales, but
also by several of our historians.

Even when the author wished to relieve his picture, and intended to
describe individuals among the Covenanters as displaying some talent,
or possessing some good qualities, he has blundered and betrayed his
ignorance. Thus, in the sermon of Macbriar, he has made the preacher
utter a sentiment which was universally rejected by Presbyterians,
while he makes him tell his audience, — “ Whoso will deserve immortal
fame in this world, and eternal hapinness in that luhich is to come, let
them enter into Cod’s eternal service,” &c.^ — (Vol. iii. p. 110.) A similar
breach of decorum of character occurs in his description of the humane
Covenanter, Widow Maclure, whom he introduces as repeatedly bann¬
ing and mincing oaths in her conversation ! — (Vol. iv. pp. 275, 278, 281.)
Far be it from us to derogate from the talents of our great author ; but
the truth is (and he should have been aware of it), whatever talent a
person may possess for buffoonery, he will not succeed in mimicking
those with whose manners he is unacquainted. He has seen and
conversed with old gentlewomen of Tory principles, gallant officers,
drunken soldiers, butlers and innkeepers ; but he has not fallen into
the company of religious people ; and, accordingly, he has failed com¬
pletely in taking off' their likeness, and in imitating their language and
manners. To cull a few phrases from Scripture, and scraps from this
sermon and that dying speech, and to form the whole into a cento, has
doubtless something ludicrous in it ; and we do not question that it
will move the laughter of the good friends whom the author professes
himself to have been so much indebted to for his materials, as well as
the surviving old maidens of the ever-memorable Forty-Jive, especially
if he should himself recite it in that snuffling, whining, canting tone
which Judge Jeffreys erst acted so admirably in the Court of King’s
Bench. But we can scarcely persuade ourselves that he ever seriously
thought it would pass in the world either for wit or humour. If the
persons whom he intended to expose were to rise up and be desired to

1 Naphtali, pp. 46S-470, 476. - Ibid., p. 458.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD. 73

look upon their picture, they would smile at his failure, provided it
were possible for them not to be shocked at his profaneness.

We have declined hitherto calling the author to account for his pro¬
fane use of the Sacred Writings, because we wished, before doing this,
to show that our censure did not proceed from displeasure at his wit,
and to anticipate an apology which we knew would be made for his
conduct. It is frequently urged, that such freedoms with sacred sub¬
jects are necessary to preserve propriety of character ; and it may be
alleged on the present occasion, that the author has only represented
the abuse which was made of Scripture by the Covenanters, and that
they, and not he, must be answerable for the profanation. We cannot
admit the justice of this apology. Those who talk most about sustain¬
ing propriety of character, can neglect it on very slight occasions. It is
no plea for indecency, and why should it be so for profaneness ? There
may sometimes be a propriety in exposing the extravagant and ridiculous
misapplications of Scripture made by individuals, or by a religious sect ;
but we do not know that this can ever be justifiably done in a work for
amusement, intended for aU classes of readers, and ordinarily perused
in a state of mind which unfits persons for discriminating between the
abuse and the thing abused, and for coolly judging whether the author’s
ridicule is well or ill founded. The author of the Tales has placed at
the head of one of his chapters a quotation from the Alchemist, which
we presume he regarded as a prototype and authority. We beg leave
to quote, as well worthy of his attention on this subject, the opinion of
one whose authority stands deservedly high both in law and in morality.
“ I remember,” says Lord Chief Justice Hale, “that when Ben Jonson,
in his play of the Alchymist, introduced Anartus in derision of the
Puritans, with many of their phrases taken out of Scripture, in order to
render that people ridiculous, the play was detested and abhorred,
because it seemed to reproach religion itself ; but now, when the Pres¬
byterians were brought upon the stage in their peculiar habits, and
with their distinguishing phrases of Scripture exposed to the laughter
of spectators, it met with approbation and applause.” ^

1 Neal’s History of the Puritans, vol. iv. p.
440. The excess to which profaneness and
blasphemy were carried in the days of Charles
II., we could scarcely credit, wei'c it not
attested by the most unexceptionable autho¬
rity. And all under the pretext of with¬
standing fanaticism ! A letter from Dr John
Wallis to the Hon. Mr lioyle, giving an ac¬
count of the opening of Archbishop Shel¬
don’s theatre at Oxford, contains the follow¬
ing particulars : “ Then a letter of thanks to
be sent from the University to him, where¬
in he is acknowledged to be both our creator
and redeemer, for having not only built a
theatre for the act, but, which is more, de¬
livered the blessed Virgin from being so pro¬
faned for the fuaire; He doth (as the words
of the letter are) non tantum condere, hoc est
creare, sed etiam redimere. These words (I

confess) stopped my mouth from giving a
placet to that letter when it was put to the
vote. I have since desired Mr Vice-chancel¬
lor to consider, whether they were not liable
to a just exception. He did at first excuse
it : but, upon further thoughts, I suppose he
will think fit to alter them, before the letter
be sent and registered. After the voting of
this letter. Dr South (as university orator)
made a long oration ; the first part of which
consisted of satirical invectives against
Cromwell, fanaticks, the royal society, and
new philosophy. The next of encomia-sticks ;
in praise of the archbishop, the theatre,
the vice-chancellor, the architect, and the
painter. The last of execrations ; against
fanaticks, conventicles, comprehension, and
new philosophy ; damning them ad inferos,
ad gehennam. The oration being ended,

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

But we are under no necessity of having recourse to this argument
in the present case. The author is guilty of wantonly abusing Scrip¬
ture, not in a few but in numerous instances throughout his work,
without his being able to justify himself by an appeal to the practice of
the Covenanters. We may refer to the exclamations of Mause (vol. iiL
]). 77), and to Langcale’s summoning the castle of Tillietudlem “with
the but-end of a sermon,” by “ uplifting, with a stentorian voice, a verse
of the 24th Psalm,” in metre, which is given at length. (Vol. iii. p. 143.)
Such descriptions are quite out of nature, and so extravagant as to be
mere ludicrous applications of Scripture language, such as no person who
had any due reverence for it could indulge in, and as will give pleasure
to an infidel reader, not because they afford a true or spirited delinea¬
tion of character, but because they gratify his disposition to laugh at
the Bible. Still worse, if possible, are the exclamations put into the
mouths of Mause and Kettledrummle on approaching Drumclog. (Vol.
iii. pp. 32, 33.) The prostitution of Scripture in the first of these
instances, is accompanied with a display of great want of delicacy and
feeling for an old woman in the circumstances described ; and, in the last
instance, it is aggravated by the consideration, that the words used are
part of a description expressly and repeatedly applied in the New Testa^
ment to the sufferings of the Saviour of men. We believe that the
author was not aware of this ; but what stronger proof can be given of
his rashness in intruding into things which he knows not, and under¬
taking a task which he is incapable of performing well ? He tells us,
that “these exclamations” of the two prisoners, “excited shouts of
laughter among their military attendants ; but events soon occurred which
rendered them all sufficiently serious.” He no doubt expected that his
description would excite similar shouts of laughter among his readers ;
and we have only to express our wish, that he may soon seriously reflect
on the subject, and expunge those passages from his work, which other¬
wise will remain as a stain upon it, which all the applause of the
thoughtless and unprincipled will not be able to cancel.

“But what do you say to the charge against the covenanting
jireachers, and the coarse, vulgar, and incoherent strain of their ser¬
mons 1” We say that we are not ashamed of them. We say, that if
we had been then alive, we would have been among their hearers. We
say that the Presbyterians in general were incomparably the best
preachers at that time in Scotland. And with respect to such of them
as were forced to preach in the fields, we think we can say enough to
silence the silly clamour which has been raised as to their sermons.
Who would require polish, or expect accurate and laboured composition,
from men who were driven from their hoi.nes, and destitute of all accom¬
modations ; who were obliged to remove from one part of the country

some honoi'ary degrees were conferred, and composed in praise of the archbishop, the
the convocation dissolved. The afternoon theatre, &c., and crying dowir fanaticks.”
was spent in panegyrick orations and re- — Neal’s History of the Puritans, vol. iv. pp.
citing of poems in several sorts of verse, 442, 443.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

to another, to escape the unremitting search of their persecutors ; who
durst not remain above one night in a house, and had often to conceal
themselves in woods and caverns '? The covenanting preachers were not
in the habit of preaching extempore ; they maintained no such principle
as that the extraordinary aids of the Spirit rendered study or prepara¬
tion unnecessary ; but they would have acted a criminal and a weak
part, if, in the circumstances in which they were then placed, they had
refused to preach upon premeditation, or even extemporaneously, pro¬
vided an unexpected opportunity offered itself. The conventicles were
a principal means of preserving the cause of religion and liberty in this
country ; and it was of the greatest consequence that they should be
maintained. It has been well said, that when the banners which the
field preachers kept waving on the mountains of Scotland, and which,
when dropped by one, were taken up and displayed by another, were
descried in Holland, they convinced William that the sjiirit of freedom
and of resistance was not extinct, and encouraged him to hazard the
attempt which issued in the deliverance of Britain. Contracted and
“ cold are the selfish hearts” which can perceive nothing to admire in
the conduct of such men, and which can only indulge in puling com¬
plaints that their sermons did not display good taste, and were devoid
of elegant frippery. Such as excel most in these sujierficial accom¬
plishments, are often deficient in firmness and fortitude, and are ready to
act the part of those effeminate soldiers who deserted their colours lest
the sword of the enemy should disfigm’e their pretty countenances.
Had they been present, the dread of concealed informers, or apprehen¬
sions of the approach of the military, would have dissipated all the fine
flowers of rhetoric which they had collected, and made “ their tongue to
cleave to the roof of their mouth.” These were not the men for the
times. It was not elegant diction, apt similes, well-turned periods, or
elaborate reasonings, that the people who frequented conventicles
needed. They needed to be taught the Word of God, to be confirmed
in the truths for which they were called to suffer, and to have their
minds prepared for that death with which they were daily threatened.
What they wanted they obtained from their preachers, to whom they
listened with emotions of delight, and with a tone of high feeling, to
which those who ignorantly deride them have no pulse that beats re¬
sponsive.

“ In solitudes like these
Thy persecuted children, Scotia, foil’d
A tyrant’s and a bigot’s bloody laws:

There, leaning on his spear, -

The Ij'art veteran hoard the Word of God,

By Cameron thundered, or by Renwick poured
In gentle stream.

. . . . “ Over their souls

His accents soothing came, — as to her young
The heathfowl’s plumes, wdieu at the close of eve
She, mournful, gathers in her brood, dispersed

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

By murderous sport, and o’er the remnant spreads
Fondly her wings ; close nestling ’neath her breast
They cherished cower amid the purple blooms.”

We do not admit tliat the sermons of the field preachers were ridicu¬
lously mean and incoherent. If this had been the case, we do not
believe that our Melvilles, our Crawfords, our Cardrosses, our Loudons,
our Maxwells, our Cesnocks, our Pol warts, and our Jerviswoods, gentle¬
men of good education, and some of them possessed of very cultivated
minds, would have countenanced them, and subjected themselves to
fines for hearing them preach, or allowing them to preach in their
houses. The field preachers had all received a liberal education;
several of them were gentlemen by birth, ^ and others of them are known
to have been highly respectable for their talents. One of the first acts
of William, after he was established on the throne, was to appoint Mr
Thomas Hog, whom he had known in Holland, one of his chaplains, and
Mr Forrester was about the same time made a professor in one of our
universities. The sermons preached at conventicles which are ordinarily
circulated, are a very unsafe rule by which to judge of the talents of the
preachers, and the quality of the discourses which they actually de¬
livered. We have never been able to ascertain that one of these was
published during the lifetime of the author, or from notes written by
himself. They were printed from notes taken by the hearers, and we
may easily conceive how imperfect and inaccurate these must often have
been. We have now before us two sermons by Mr Welsh, printed at
different times ; and upon reading them, no person could suppose that
they were preached by the same individual. The one has little sub¬
stance, and abounds with exclamations and repetitions ; the other is a
sensible and well-arranged discourse, and free from the faults of the
other. We have no doubt that the memory of Mr Peden has been
injured in the same way. The collection of prophecies that goes under
his name is not authentic ; and we have before us some of his letters,
which place his talents in a very different light from the idea given of
them in what are called his Sermons and his Life. It was natural,
though injudicious, in well-meaning people, after the Eevolution, to
publish whatever came in their way, bearing to have been preached or
spoken by men whom they revered so highly for their zeal, piety, faith¬
fulness, and constancy in suffering. And it is well known, that many
eminent persons have suffered severely in their reputation from similar
conduct on the part of their warm and rash admirers. We do not mean
by this to retract what we formerly conceded, nor to deny that some of
the field preachers indulged in a style too familiar and colloquial, and
were apt to employ phrases and comparisons which suggest ideas that
are degrading. But we maintain that this fault was not peculiar to
them or to the Presbyterian Church, and that it is less disgusting and

1 Mr Archibald Riddel, son of Sir Walter Bryce Semple, Mr Blackadder of Tulliallan,
Riddel, Mr Gabriel Semple, son of Sir and Mr Fraser of Brae.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

less hurtful to the great ends of preaching than either the scholastic
pedantry, or the affected finery and florid bombast which have more
frequently infected the pulpit, and disfigured the sermons of those who
have been most disposed to exclaim against Presbyterian vulgarity.^

Here we intended to have closed this part of our review, when the
British Critic for January was put into our hands. This contains a
review of the Tales of my Landlord, which induces us to make an
addition to what we have said on the sermons of the Covenanters.
From the known High-Church tone of this journal, we were prepared to
expect that the tale of Old Mortality would be greeted by its conductors
with a cordial and affectionate welcome, and that they would be pre¬
pared at once to subscribe to all its statements, and to become the
heralds of its praises. They have even outdone our expectations ; for
they have improved upon the author’s representation, and have pointed
out the practical apphcation of his instructions to the present times,
which he was either not aware of, or too prudent and too modest to
notice. After a circumstantial account, “ collected from the best his¬
torians,” of the assassination of Archbishop Sharp, — “ a murder which,
for cowardice and cruelty, has scarcely a parallel in the history of the
civilised world,” — the dispassionate and well-informed critic goes on to
say : “ Emboldened by the success of their first enterprise in blood, they
began to preach (for all their leaders were preachers) the general assassi¬
nation of their enemies, and every pulpit rang with the examples of Jael
and Sisera, ofEhud and Eglon." The Duke of Monmouth “ met them
on Bothwell Bridge in full force, their army being now increased to 8000
men. After a desperate resistance they were repulsed,'’’ &c. “Such
was the rebellion, of which the tale of Old Alortality is an historical
sketch.” Having given various extracts from the tale, in which the
anecdote respecting “ the barn fanners ” is not forgotten, and having
panegyrised Claverhouse, whose character is said to be “ drawn with
no less spirit than fidelity,” the critic makes the following general
remarks, to which we beg the particular attention of our readers : —

“ In times like these, when the spirit of fanaticism is abroad, and gathering the
most fearful strength, the tale before us will be read with a deep and a foreboding
interest. With the Bible in the one hand, and the sword in the other, did these
wretched victims of enthusiasm march forth to slaughter and to blood. Fraud,
rapine, and murdei’, in their minds, were consecrated by the cause in which they
were engaged, and by the Gospel, under whose banners they supposed themselves
enlisted. To the knowledge of Christ, hke the fanatics of modem days, they laid
an exclusive claim, and that claim they enforced by the breach of every command
of charity and love which their heavenly Master so earnestly inculcated.

“ To many of our readers, the sermons and speeches which these volumes con¬
tain, may appear a caricatme rather than a portrait. We can assure them, how¬
ever, that they are a very faithful transcript of the cant of those times. We have
now before us a book published in 1719, entitled ‘ Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence,’

1 We had formerly occasion to make some remarks on this subject. — Christian Instruc¬
tor, voi. viL p. 415-417.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

&c., another of nearly the same date, called ' A Century of Presbyterian Preachers,’
in wliich will be found many discourses of the same nature. In the latter of these,
extracts are given from published sermons, a few of which we will present to our
readers.” — (P. 94.)

Having given short extracts from two or three sermons preached
before the Long Parliament, the critic adds : —

“ From these few specimens of real covenanting eloquence, our readers will not
imagine the picture before them to be a distortion ora caricature ; the portrait is
executed by too faithful and too well instructed a pen.”

— “ We must pronounce it to be a tale, which, from the spirit of the composition,
the truth of the colouring, and the warning which it holds out to this church and
nation, demands a most serious and attentive consideration.” — (Pp. 95, 97.)

If there are any of our readers who doubted as to the pernicious ten¬
dency of the Tales, or as to the propriety of the notice which we have
taken of them, the extracts which we have now given must have removed
their doubts. Here we perceive that the old spirit of malignancy was
not dead, but only asleep, and ready to spring up whenever the least
encouragement was given to it. The war-whoop is sounded against
fanaticism — the fanatics of former times are identified with those of the
present day — and the mad attempt is renewed of accusing persons hold¬
ing certain religious principles of abetting designs of the worst kind.
Before reading this article, we were apprehensive that we had dwelt too
long upon some of the topics treated in the preceding pages ; but now
we are satisfied that there was need for enlarging instead of retrench¬
ment. We do not mean to expose the gross misrepresentations of
historical fact in the review, and we may afterwards have an opportu¬
nity of considering the charges attecting the moral character of the
Covenanters. At present, we confine ourselves to what the critic says
of their sermons. We had previously looked out a number of passages
in the sermons of Episcopalians, English and Scots, to set in opposition
to the representation which the author of the Tales has given of Presbyte¬
rian preaching. But although we were fully aware of the tendency of
his work, and the handle that would be made of it, yet, being averse to
recrimination, and aware of the delicacy of the subject, we laid them
aside, and resolved to suppress them. But after the attack which has
been made by the organ of the High-Church party, we consider ourselves
as imperiously called upon to bring them forward. It may be of some
use in cheeking their disposition to have recourse to this method of
abuse to show them that Episcopalians have preached from the pulpit,
and published from the press, things far more unsuitable, ridiculous, ex¬
travagant, vulgar, and violent, than ever were uttered by Presbyterian
preachers.

We shall begin with the Lord Bishop of London. The following
extraets are from a sermon which his Lordship preached, on occasion of
the marriage of the Princess Eoyal, and which accordingly may be
supposed to have been none of his worst. The text is Psalm cxxviii. 3 :

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

“ Thy wife shall be as the fruitful vine by the sides of thy house.” —
“ Uxor tua may well be the subject of the proposition, for it is the
subject, the prior terminus, the vnoKfiiievov, that is substantial!,
fundamental! terme of all mankind, rrjs ets rov jSiov eiaoSov 6vpa, the gate
of entrance into living. Hence began the world : God huilded the
woman {cedificat costam, finxit hominem ; man was figmentum, woman
wdijicium, an artificial! building), and from the rafter or planke of this
rib is the world built. Therefore was Heva called mater viventium, the
mother of the living ; quia mortali generei immortalitatempaxit — she is
themeanes to continue a kind of immortalitie amongst the mortali sonnes
of men. No sooner was man made, but presently also a woman, not
animal occasionatum, a creature upon occasion, nor mas Icesus, a male
with maime and imperfection, &c.”— “ Vir and uxor, man and wife, are
primum par,fundamentumparium, the first original match of all others.
All other couples and paires, as father and sonne, maister and servant,
king and subject, come out of this paire. The beginning of families,
cities, countries, continents, the whole habitable world, the militant, yea
and triumphant church, mater matris ecclesice, the mother of the mother
church, of no small part of the kingdome of heaven, is tixor tua, this
subject of my text, out of this combination, it all springeth. No marriage,
no men ; no marriage, no saints. The wife is the mother of virgins that
are no wives {Laudo connubium quia generat virgines, saith Hierome,
ywaiKopaa-TiUj ; nogeneration, no regeneration, no multiplying beneath, no
multiplying above ; no filling the earth, not so much filling the heavens ;
if not f Hi seculi, neither will there be flii cceli.” — “ We have found the
treasure, wee must adde the cabinet to keep the treasure. Thg wife,
not 'uxor vestra, one woman to many men, against the doctrine of the
Nicolaitans ; not uxores tuce, many women to one man, against the
encroachment of Lamech; not uxor tua et non tua., to take and leave,
put on and put off, as thou doest thy coat. Uxor tua is as much to say,
as tu et uxor, uxor et tu, no more, no fewer, no other, (kc.” — “ Sicut
vitis ahundans. If there were nothing more than sicut, that word alone
might suffice. The woman at her first creation was made to be a sicut,
&c.” — “ {Sicut vitis.) A tree and a man or a woman, how nearly do they
symbolise. The roote of the tree is the mouth to convey it nourishment ;
the pith or heart of the tree is the matrice, belly, or bowels ; the knots,
the nerves ; the fissures or concavities, the veines ; the rinde, the skinne ;
the boughes, the armes and limms ; the sprigges, the fingers ; the leaves,
the haire ; the fruit, unlesse the tree be barren, the children, (fee., cfe:c.” ^
Our next extracts shall be from “ The Merchant Koyall,” preached
at the marriage of a Scots nobleman, the Right Hon. the Lord Hay.
The text is Proverbs xxxi. 14 ; “ Shee is like a merchant ship, she
bringeth her food from afarre.”- — “ She is like a ship, <fe:c.” “ Shee is
indeed, and yet shee scarce is, and therefore because shee is so scarce, it

^ Vitis Falatina : n, sermon appointed to after the Marriape of the Ladie Elizabeth her
be preached at Whitehall, upon the Tuesday Grace. By the Bishop of Loudou. 1615.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

was needful to show, not onely what shee is, but also wliat shee is like
to ; for how shall hee find her that never saw her, that never had her,
that scarce heard of her ; how shall he find her, hut by some sensible
resemblance of her 1 and therefore as Cantic. v., when the Church cried
her husband (I charge you, &c.), shee described him by resemblance : My
well beloved is white and ruddie, (kc. : everything was like sometliing, so
of the virtuous woman it is said here, that she is like a sliippe ; and Pro¬
verbs xii., shee is like a crowne ; and in the Canticles, sometimes like a
rose, sometimes like a lilly, sometimes like a spring of waters. In a word,
she is like to many thiuges ; but as it is said, ver. 10, Pearles and pre¬
cious stones are not like to her!' — “If she be good, she is like a ship indeed,
and to nothing so like as to a shippe ; for she sits at the sterne, and by
discretion as by carde and compasse shapes her course ; her countenance
and conversation are ballased with sobernesse and gravitie ; her sailes
are full of wind, as if some wisdome from above had inspired or blowne
upon her ; she standeth in the shrowdes, and casteth out her leade, and
when she hath sounded, she telleth (as Michol did to David) of depth
and danger. If by default she be grounded, she casteth out her ancors
(as Kahab did), and by winding of herselfe, shee gets afloate againe. If
she spy within her kenning any trouble to bee nigh, either shee makes
forward, if shee find herself able, or else, with Pilat’s wife, she sets saile
away. She commands and countermands each man to his charge, some
to their tackling, some to the mast, some to the maine-top ; as if shee,
and none but shee, were captaine, owner, master of the ship ; and yet
she is not master, but master’s mate. A royall shippe she is, for the
king himself takes pleasure in her beauty. Psalm xlv. ; and if shee bee a
merchant’s too, then is shee the merchant royall.” — “But of all qualities,
a woman must not have one quality of a ship, and that is, too much
rigging. Oh, what a wonder it is to see a ship under saile, with her
tacklings, and her masts, and her tops and top-gallants ; with her upper
decks and her neither decks, and so bedeckt with her streames, fiags,
and ensignes, and I know not what. Yea, but a world of wonders it is,
to see a woman created in God’s image, so miscreat ofttimes and
deformed, with her French, her Spanish, and her foolish fashions, that
he that made her, when he lookes upon her, shall hardly know her with
her plumes, her fans, and a silken vizard, with a ruffe like a saile, yea,
a ruffe like a raine-bow, with a feather in her cap like a flag in her top,
to tell (I thinke) which way the wind wiU blow.” — “ Shee is like a ship
of merchants ; therefore first to be reckoned (as yee see) among the
laytie ; not like a fisherman’s boat, not like St Peter’s ship, for Christ
did call noe she-apostles.” — “ Shee is like a merchant ship, that is, a
friendly feUow and peaceable companion to him, but not a man of war
to contend with him. For he that made her never built her for battaile ;
sure shee was built for peace and not for warre, for merchants weepe to
thinke of warre ; therefore she must not for every angry word of her
husband, betake herself into the gixn-roome straight, and there to

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

thunder, to charge and discharge upon him with broad swords, or as
mariners say at sea, to turne the broade side, like Ziporah, the wife of
Moses, to raile upon him, ‘Thou art indeed a bloody husband.’^ — Exod. iv.
This is no ship of merchants, this is the I thinke,” &c. — “ But

what meaneth Solomon by that. From a farre, she bringeth her food
from a farre .? Surely not to answere that which is proverbially said,
that far fetcht and deare bought is fittest for ladies ■, as now a daies,
what groweth at home is base and homely, and what every one eates is
meat for dogs ; and wee must have bread from one countrie, and drinke
from another, and we must have meat from Spain, and sauce out of
Italie ; and if we weare any thing, it must be pure Venetian, Roman, or
Barbarian ; but the fashion of all must be French ; and as Seneca saith
in another case, victi victoribus leges dederimt, wee give them the foile,
and they give us the fashion. Therefore this was not Solomon’s mean¬
ing, but from a farre either hath respect to the time, a longinguo tem-
IJore, as it seemeth to be expounded in the very next words, she riseth
while it is yet night, and giveth the portion to her household, (kc. Hee
doth not say shee meeteth it at the doore, as shee that riseth to dinner,
and then thinkes her daies work halfe done, and for every fit of an idle
fever betakes her straight to her cabbin again ; and if her finger but
ake, shee must have one stand by to feede her with a spoone ; this is no
shij) of merchants, this is the Mary Shigf &c.— “Ladies and gentlemen,

I beseech you mistake me not, and impute not partiality to me. If I
have said any thing sharpely, yet know, I have said nothing against the
good, but all against evil women ; yea, nothing against the sex, but all
against the sinnes of women,” &c.^

The Incomparable Jevjel may furnish another specimen of Episco¬
palian eloquence. In the “ Epistle Dedicatorie,” the author says : —

“ The historical! naration calls for not onely a Tullian orator, but for a
Tertullian, to show it to life ; and that requires a just volume too. For
if there be a mercuriall quillibet, who can, in his quodlibeticall capacity,
comprehend an immensitie, or in his sublimated braine define an in¬
finity, or in his stupendious presumption dares take upon him to relate
an infandum (and of such an Utopian minus I utterly despaire), then
may it be as well showed how two minds may breathe in one breast,
and one mind may live in two hearts.”

The text is Prov. xxxi. 10 : “ Who can find a vertuous woman ? For
her price is farre above rubies.” “ The Quaere, as an inlet, runs into
foure rills. IMq first is the indefiniteness of the question : Who 1 — who,

I say, among all ? Secondly, the difiicultie of the question : Who can I
which, albeit, it be diflicult, yet it is feasible ; for an act tending there¬
unto is implied. Who can finde 1 which implies seeking. Some by
seeking find them sans question : the reason is manifest ; for the evan¬
gelical precept seelce, hath an angelicall promise annexed, and ye shall

1 The Merchant Royal] : a sermon preached the Nuptialls of the Bight Honourable the
at Whitehall before the King’s Majesty, at Lord Hay and bis L^ldy, upon .Tan. bth, 1G07.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOED.

-finde. Thirdly, the subject, or rather object: What 1 A Woman.
Who can finde a woman I Alas ! what more easie to finde than that
creature. She is no Ostium Nili. Yea, but that’s not all. The quality
is the question, and that’s the knot : Who can finde a rertuous woman I
which is the fourth rill that the qujere runs into.”

“ The Quaere is rationall, and discloseth itself into five parcels. For,
first, Grod’s wisdome resembles her to a jewell in the generall. Secondly,
to a rubie, in particular. Thirdly, in pluralitie, to rubies. Fourthly,
superlatively, above rubies. Fifitly and lastly, super-superlatively, farre
above rubies. This is the quaere, and herein I finde pricelesnesse.”

“ A vitious woman, and death, are two of the bitterest things in the
world. The case is all one with the comique conceit. The day that a
man marrieth such an one, is all one as if his friend should bid him goe
home and hang himselfe. Such a monster as shee is, shall be brought
out into the congregation, and examination shall be had of her children ;
her children shall not take root, and her branches shall bring forth no
fruit ; a shameful report shall shee leave, and the stinke of her reproach
shall not be put out. A vitious woman in her choleric mood is a pyro-
mantick divell ; in her melancholy and sullen fits, a geomaniick hob¬
goblin ; in her phlegmatic disposition, a hydromantick hydra ; and in
her sanguine and best condition, an ceromantic mushrome. Concipit
cethera mente ; mens levior vento, tossed up and down with every fancie.
I have read of Cardanus his father, how hee conjured up seven divels
at once. Hee that marrieth a vitious wife hath no need to send to a
conjurer ; he shall see the seven deadly sinnes ruling, reigning, and
raging in his empousa, as the seven divels in Mary Magdalene, while
she was yet no convert. The poor man then hath no remedie but
prayer and patience, and fast he must too ; for this kinde of divels
goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.” “ Weigh your wives, then,
good men, you that have them.” “ If they prove counterfeit and light,
surely they are not pearls but bugles, light every way. In their heels
like the corke there ; in their heads like the feather in their caps ; and
in their hands like their foolish fanne. If you meet with such, sing.

Quid levins Pluma? Plamen : quid Flamine? Flamma :

Quid Flamma? Mulier: quidMuliere? o.

“ The Hierogliphiques describe and pourtraite a woman sitting upon
a shell-snaile, when they would signify a good housewife ; for as that
creature carries an house upon its back, so the good housewife will keep
her house over her head, and stay within doors, unless she have urgent
occasions abroad. She is not of the tribe of Gad, to be a gadder abroad
caulesly, as commonly they doe who are such gadders, and come home
crackt, as did wandering Dinah, the daughter of Jacob, when shee went
gadding to see the fashions of the country.”

“ Doe you thiuke that you are vertuous women in these and such
like fantasticks 1 Or when you get upon one joynt of your least finger.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

a sardonix, a smaragd, a jasper, and a diamond, as the fond, foolish,
phantastick courtier, Stella in Martial is said to weare ? or when, like
Lollia Paulina, ye go beset and bedeckt all over with emerauds and
pearles ranged in rowes one by another, round about your tires, caules,
borders, peruges of haire, boongraces, chaplets, carcanets, upon your
wrists in bracelets, upon your fingers with rings ? that yee glitter and
shine again as yee mince along ; what with all these can you make of
yourselves, but idle housewives and idols of vanity

“ Let the case be put, that this vertuous man finds a vertuous wife.
0 how sweet is that conjunction ! the blessing is doubled to either, the
relation is cherubicall, the reflection seraphicall, the consummation of
their loves angelical.” ^

“ As King Richard bestowed himselfe diversly at his death, so must
wee in life. Bohemia claimes a part in our lone, the Palatinate a part,
the churches abroad, our brethren at home, a part ; at home, in selling,
we must be buyers ; in lending, borrowers ; in visiting, patients ; in
comforting, mourners ; abroad, we must in our owne peace consider
their warres, feele them panting, see them bleeding, heare them scrich-
ing, ‘ 0 husband, 0 wife, 0 my child, my child ; 0 mother, mother,
mother, my father is slaine, my brother is tome, my legge is off, my guts
be out, halfe dead, halfe aliue, worse than either, because neither.’ 0
that wee had hearts to bleede over them, and to pray for the peace of
lerusalem.”^ — “Yes, you lawyers (to instance) must be common blessings,
and not seeke your owne ; you must (with Papinian) reiect bad causes,
and ripen good ; there goes but a paire of sheares between a protracting
lawyer and cheating mountebanke, that sets his client backward and
forward like a man at chesse, and proves a butcher to the sillie sheepe,
which ran to him from the grasier.” — “You landlords must be common
too,— a poore man in his house is like a snayle in his shell, cmsh that
and you kill him ; say, therefore with thy selfe, my tennant is a man,
not a beast ; were he a beast, yet a righteous man is mercifiill to his
beast ; a breeding bird must not haue her nest destroyed, a yong kidd
must not be sod in his mother’s milke ; what will become of me and
mine, if I destroy the nest of breeding Christians, and having chopt
them to the pot, seethe old and yong in one another’s blood “I

In the epistle dedicatory of his two sermons to the Lower House
of Parliament, 1624, Mr Thomas Taylor says : “ Whereas the Baby¬
lonians have mightily increased of late in their hopes, numbers, and
strength, not onely those forraigne frogs and locusts, the Priests and
Jesuits, have in great armies invaded our countrey, but our home ad¬
versaries have greatly multiplied, and recusants risen up everie where
with great hopes of raising up the ruinous wals of lerico againe. We
(fearing lest these sonnes of Zeruiah may grow too strong for us) doe
trust and pray, that your wisdomes provide that these frogs may be

1 The Incomparable Jewell, 1632.

2 Harris’s Sermon at St I’aul’s Crosse on the last of June 1622.

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOKD,

taken away from us and our people, and confined to their owne sea and
rivers, for the heaps of them stinke in the land ; that their merchandise
be vendible no more, that their base coines be no more currant amongst
us ; nor such strange children (brats of Babylon) nourished any more
amongst us, unlesse they will doe as the Kenites who joyned to the
lewes.

“ Looke backe, worthy gentlemen, upon the zeal and former love of
your famous predecessors, who pulled downe the nests of these anti-
Christian birds. Cause the uncleane birds that flutter againe about us,
with some hopes to roust and nestle among us (if that only would serve
their turnes), to know the prudence and circumspection of so grave,
wise, and godly a senate.”

In the first sermon, entitled, “ Fly out of Romish Babel,” he says :
“ Here Rome and Babylon, for the similitude and resemblance with it,
so as one egge is not liker another than Rome and Babylon.”- — “For
assistance we may lend Babylon no hand to uphold her, we are com¬
manded not to seeke the prosperity of Babel all our dales, because the
Lord hath devoted her to destruction, but especially those whose hands
and swords Cod hath sanctified to this purpose ; whensoeuer God shall
put it into their hearts, they want neither charge nor calling to reward
her as she hath rewarded them ; as she hath levied forces against the
princes of the earth, so must they levie forces against her ; and the cup
of death and wrath, which she hath filled to them, they must fill her
the double.”

The second sermon, entitled, “ The Utter Ruine of Romish Amalek,”
has the following passages : “We never want a valorous and victorious
loshua, to lead us and fight for us against Amalek. That loshua was a
noble generall, with whom the Lord was, and none was able to .stand
before him, so as he set his foot on the necks of five kings at once ; but
he was but a type and shadow of our loshua, a mighty captaine, and an
heavenly leader, that great Michael, that treadeth upon the necks of all
kings and tyrants that rise up in armes against him and his people.” —
“ As Israel had not only loshua fighting in the valley, but also Moses
praying on the hill ; so wee have many Mosesses lifting up hands and
I)raiers, which are powerfull and prevalent against Amalek.”

If it be alleged that the sermons from which we have quoted were
delivered during the first part of the seventeeth century, and that the
mode of English preaching was greatly improved, we shall give a few
specimens of what was preached during the reign of Charles II. And we
shall do this in the language of an orthodox son of the Church of Eng¬
land, Dr John Eachard. “ It seems pretty hard,” says the Doctor, “ at
first sight, to bring into a sermon all the circles of the globe, and all
the frightfull tearms of astronomy. But I’ll assure you, sir, it is to be
done, because it has been ; but not by every bungler and ordinary text-
divider, but by a man of great cunning and experience.” Of this the
Doctor gives a specimen from a sermon on the prophecy of Malachi,

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

chap. iv. ver. 2 : “ ‘ But unto you that fear my name, shall the sun of
righteousness arise with healing in his wings.’ From which words, in
the first place, it plainly appears, that the sun of righteousness passed
through all twelve signs of zodiack. And more than that, too, all
proved by very apt and familiar places of Scripture. First, then, he
was in Aries ; or else what means that of the Psalmist ? ‘ The moun¬
tains skipped like rams, and the little hills like lambs.’ And again,
that in the second of the Kings, chap. iii. ver. 4 : ‘ And Mesha King of
Moab was a sheep-master, and rendered unto the king of Israel an
hundred thousand lambs ;’ and what follows 1 ‘ and an hundred thou¬
sand rams, with the whool.’ Mind it ; it was the king of Israel. In
like manner was he in Taurus, Psal. xxii. 12 : ‘ Many bulls have com¬
passed me ; strong bulls of Bashan have beset me round.’ They were
not ordinary bulls. They were compassing bulls, they were besetting
bulls, they were strong Bashan bulls. What need I speak of Gemini 'I
Surely you cannot but remember Jacob and Esau, Gen. xxv. 24 : ‘And
when her days to be delivered were fulfilled, behold there were tvdns
in her womb.’ Or of Cancer ? when, as the Psalmist says so plainly, •
‘What ailed thee, 0 thou sea, that thou fleddest? thou Jordan, that
thou wast driven back ?’ Nothing more plain. It were as easie to
show the like in all the rest of the signs.” — ■“ 0 how it tickled the
divider when he had got his text into those two excellent branches ;
accusatio veiv, comminatio severa. A charge full of verity ; a discharge
full of severity. And I’ll warrant you that did not please a little, viz.
there is in the words duplex miraculum ; miraculum in modo ; and
miraculum in nodo. But the luckyest that I have met withal, both for
wit and keeping the letter, is upon those words of St Matt. xii. 43, 44,
45 ; ‘ When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through
dry places, seeking rest, and finding none. Then he saith, I will return,’
<fcc. In which words all these strange things were found out. First,
there was a captain and castle. Do ye see, sir, the same letter % Then
there was an ingress, an egress ; and a regress, or re-ingress. Then
there was unroosting and unresting. Then there was number and
name, manner and measure, trouble and tryall, resolution and revolu¬
tion, assaults and assassination, voidness and vacuity. This was done
at the same time, by the same man ; but, to confess the truth of it,
’twas a good long text, and so he had the greater advantage.” — “ But
for a short text, that certainly was the greatest break that ever was ;
which was occasioned from those words of St Luke xxiii. 28 ; ‘Weep
not for me, weep for yourselves,’ or, as some read it, ‘ but weep for
yourselves.’ It is a plain case, sir ; here’s but eight words, and the
business was so cunningly ordered, that there sprung out eight parts, —

‘ Here are,’ sayes the Doctor, ‘eight words, and eight parts. 1. Weep
not. 2. But weep. 3. Weep not, but weep. 4. Weep for me. 5. For
yourselves. 6. For me, for yourselves. 7. Weep not for me. 8. But
weep for yourselves.’ ” — “ Neither ought he to be altogether slighted.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

who, taking that of Gen. xlviii. 2 for his text, viz. : ‘ And one told
Jacob and said. Behold, thy son Joseph cometh unto thee presently
perceived and made it out to the people, that ‘ his text was a spiritual
dial. For,’ says he, ‘here he in my text twelve words, which do
plainly represent the twelve hours. Twelve words : And one told
Jacob, and said, thy son Joseph cometh unto thee. And here is,
besides, Behold., which is the hand of the dyal, that turns and points at
every word in the text. And one told Jacob, and said, behold, thy son
Joseph cometh unto thee. For it is not said. Behold Jacob, or behold
Joseph \ but it is. And one told Jacob, and said. Behold, thy son Joseph
cometh unto thee. That is to say. Behold and. Behold one. Behold
told. Behold Jacob. Again, Behold and. Behold said. (And also :)
Behold, behold, &c. Which is the reason that this word behold is
placed in the middle of the other twelve words, indifferently pointing
at each word. Now, as it needs must be one of the clock before it can
be two or three ; so I shall handle this word and, the first word in the
text, before I meddle with the following. And one told Jacob : This
• word and is but a particle, and a small one ; but small things are not
to be despised ; St Matt, xviii. 10 : ‘ Take heed that you despise not
one of these little ones.’ For this and is as the tackes and loops
amongst the curtains of the tabernacle. The tackes put into the loops
did couple the curtains of the tent, and sew the tent together, so this
particle and being put into the loops of the words immediately before
the text, does couple the text to the foregoing verse, and sewes them
close together.”^

The following specimen of orthodox and loyal preaching by divines
of the Church of England, during the Long Parliament, should have
been inserted before the extracts furnished by Dr Eachard. But it
would be unpardonable to omit it altogether ; as, besides preserving a
very curious anecdote respecting Border antiquities, it contains one of
the most edifying reasons for passive obedience, and one of the most
pleasant apologies for persecution, that our readers probably have any¬
where met with. Dr Stephens, in a sermon preached at St Mary’s,
Cambridge, in 1642, on Judges xxi. 25, says: — “I have heard the
prophet David suspected by some as partial in his own cause, just like
the northern Borderers, who conceived the eighth commandment,
‘ Thou shalt not steal,’ to be none of God’s making, but foisted in by
Henry Eighth, to shackle their thievish fingers ; — but I dare oppose the
13th chapter of the Epistle to the Romans against the power of men or
devils, which would trample upon the necks of kings. Suppose thy
king very wicked, he hath more need of thy prayers to make him
better ; suppose him to be a tyrant, he will give thee the fairer occa¬
sions to exercise thy virtue of patience ; suppose him to be a persecutor,
he’ll do thee courtesie, he’ll send thee to heaven by violence.”— (P. 27-29.)

1 The Grounds and Occasions of tlie Contempt of the Clergy, pp. 53, 67, 68, 69. Lond.
1670.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

We have room for only a few specimens of the discourses of Scots
Episcopalians. The first of these that we shall mention is a sermon
preached by Dr Alexander Ross, Professor of Theology at Glasgow,
before the Circuit Court of Justiciary, held in that city on the 14th
October 1684, and afterwards printed. We have not met with the
sermon, but Mr Wodrow, who possessed it, has given a very particular
account of its contents, and none who has compared his history with
his authorities, will call in question either his fidelity or his accuracy.
In his dedication to the judges, the Doctor tells them, that “ their in¬
comparable zeal and dexterity, whereby they managed the court, was
incredibly to the advantage of a decayed religion and loyalty in that
corner.” “ His text,” says Wodrow, “ was Acts xxvi. 28 : ‘ Thou almost
persuadest me to be a Christian.’ But if the Professor hath preached
as he hath printed, which nobody will question, I may apply Cowley’s
character : —

‘ lie reads his text, and takes his leave of it.’

“ I will (says the preacher) Isi, Show the different parties of our
di'idded Zio7i. 2dlt/, The malignancy of the national sin of schism.
Sdly, The necessity of Episcopacy for supporting the main concerns of
Christianity. Lastly, The application.” — “ One cannot help thinking,”
continues Wodrow, “ he might fully as well have chosen Gen. i. 1 for a
text for this subject. Indeed, to these he premises a general account of
Christianity, as he calls it, that he might have a hit at the disfigured
faces, and hideous tones of some people ; — and them he charges with
being the occasions of the nation’s heavy taxes, and points them out as
the authors of all the confusions, rebellions, assassinations, and daily
tumults in this kingdom ; and, after a great many ill names of the
declarations at Sanquhar, Eutherglen, &c., he gives a broad innuendo
upon the Reformation, complaining that the nation lies under the
reproach of ruined cathedrals and metropolitical sees ; and then, in his
deep oratory, descants upon Bishop Sharp’s monument ; and after some
dry satyr upon the remaining incUnations of so many towards Presby¬
tery, he handles the evil of the sin of schism ; and, by some threadbare
arguments, a hundred times answered, the Doctor endeavours to show
the usefulness of Episcopacy to remove schism, heat, and many ill
things in the Church of Scotland, since her reformation by Presbyters.
And for application, after he hath taken notice how unsuitable it is for
an evangelical pastor to whet the sword of justice, and press severities,
he comes gravely to tell the judges that they will be justified in what¬
ever severe methods they find proper, by the malignancy of the present
schism, and the inveteracy of the distemper ; and presses them to take
the harshest ways with such as threaten the very extinction of Chris¬
tianity, and concludes with acquainting them, the Church is like to
sufter more from her present enemies than ever she did from Nero and
Dioclesian. Here the native spirit of the orthodox clergy breathes

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOED.

freely ; and after he hath pointed out the persecuted party and Presby¬
terians in the most odious colours, and when he hath wiped his mouth,
and condemned himself in what follows, he plainly hounds out the
judges to wholesome severities, and tells them, though they come the
length of persecution, it is no more than the schismaticks deserve, being
worse than Nero and Dioclesian.” Wodrow adds : “ After the teaching
and breathing out so much cruelty and severity in so publick a manner,
I wish, for their own sakes at least, the prelatick party would be a little
less clamorous upon the extremities and excesses some few of the suf¬
ferers were at this time driven to by the oppression thus preached upon
them.”^ Not having seen the sermon, we cannot say whether the
Professor employed as vulgar abuse as his brother. Dr Canaries, who
calls the persecuted Presbyterians “ the very dregs and feculency of
mankind, on the account both of their birth and breeding, but espe¬
cially so because of their very souls and immortalities, as being such a
herd of dull, and untractable, and whining, and debaucht animals, as
scarcely go beyond those of the hogs and goats which ever any of them
was only born for to attend.” And as for the severities inflicted by
government on such creatures, — “ the worst is to be flung over a
ladder, or for one’s neck to be tied to a beam, and then to have a sledge
driven out under him.’”’

After the Kevolution, the Thh'tieth of January became the grand
day for the display of Scots Episcopalian eloquence and loyalty. We
have before us a great number of sermons preached “ as on this day but
at present we can find room for extracts from only two of them ; the one a
specimen of genuine rhetoric, and the other of deep and sound judgment.
The text of the first of these is Exod. xx. 12 ; “ Honour thy father and
thy mother and the sermon begins tlnis ; “My text lyes here inclosed
within a sacred cabinet of orient gems, and pearles of great price, to
witt, in this chapter containing the ten commandments, which are
indeed so many rich and precious jewels, shining in the mid’st of dark¬
ness. Or they are like the golden candlestick of the sanctuary, Exod.
XXV. 31, Ais shaft, and his branches, his howls, and his hnops, and his
flowers, with all his lamps of pure gold, shining with their native
brightness and splendour, and enlightiiing all that are content to be
guided by their light.”- — “ ’Tis the great glory, and has been the blessing
of this kingdom, that God (by whom kings reign) gave us princes, who,
for their royal endowments, may be reckoned amongst the best of kings
and princes of this earthly globe. For how many ages have they run
down the squadrons of our enemies ! and raised to their names ever¬
lasting trophees, by their admirable courage and conduct, in defending
our ancestours, their liberty, their lands and heritages, against puissant
and inveterate enemies ? Our princes in stormie times have been our
refuge under God, and our shelter. Nor were we ever overcome by

1 Wodrow, ii. p. 415-416. Manifestation of the Will of God, pp. 187,

- Discourse representing the Sufficient 192, anno 1684.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLOED.

humane force, while we kept jidelitie to our God, and loyalty to our
princes. And if at any time the bright sun of monarchy amongst us
suffered an eclipse, it happened always by the dreadful interposition of
the misty clouds of impiety and disloyaltie." — “ 0 thrice cursed blow
that struck the head from the head of these nations ! The mirrour of
manhood, the nursing father of the Church, the ornament of religion,
the glory of Christianity ! who died a faitliful martyr, and is buried in
the everlasting monuments of Fame ; of whom history (the world’s
looking-glass and time’s recorder) shall make honourable mention to all
generations. ’Tis but needless to speak much of him, the deprivment
of whose excellencies can’t better be shadowed out by the sldlfullest
pensil, than by covering it over with the vail of silence. For what can
my words but wrong his perfections, his virtues, and excellencies which
the British world and the church of Christ were deprived of, by the
bloodie hands of wretched miscreants ? 0 execrable, 0 unparallelled
villanie, and to be remembered with continual lamentation !” — “ Scot¬
land then did weep (like Rachel) for her children, and would not be
comforted, because they were not. Our enemies displayed their proud
banners against our walled towns, and raised up their loftie and swelling
rampiers against our fortified places. The great ordinance (that fatal
engine invented for the destruction of mankind), in manner of a great
earthquake, so terribly roared and thundred, that the earth seemed not
only to tremble under men’s feet, but by and by to rend in sunder, and
swallow them up. The air became thick, and the skie darkened with
the smoak of the great artilleiy. Then were the walls of our towns
made saltable, and the eneni}^ (who glistered in their bright armour)
approaching, some assaulted the breaches, others, with their scaling
ladders, scaled the walls. Then followed the noise of small shot, the
clashing of armour, the neighing of horses, the sound of the trumpet,
the beating of drums, and other warlick instraments, with the lament¬
able outcryes and pitiful groans of dying men, which was so confused
and so great, as if heaven and earth had been confounded together.” ^
The other sermon is by the celebrated champion of Episcopacy, Mr
Robert Calder. The text is Gen. xlix. 5-7. Simeon and Levi are
brethren ; instruments of cruelty are in their habitations, or, as the
preacher renders the words. Instruments of crueltie are their covenants.
And in their self-will, they digged down a wall; “that is, in their
willfullness, they broke down the fences. Others render it from the
Hebrew, an Ox, and so by a metaphor it will signifie a prince with
strength and power. Others, placing the singular for the plural, make
it Oxen, and so the meaning to be. They took away the Shechemites’
cattell, xxxiv. Gen. 28. They took their sheep, their oxen, and their
asses,” (fcc. — “ In the fourth place, I come to the application ; and here
I shall consider, 1. Who was murthered ? 2. By whom ? 3. By what

1 A Sermon preached on the xxx day of January 1703-4, at Coupar of Fife, by Mr Al.
Auchiuleck.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

means 1 4. When '? 5. On what pretences 1 1st, Who ^ A man, a
'prince, a Christian, yea, and a martyr for the Christian religion.” — “ In
the second place, let us consider, by whom ? The answer is, by Simeon
and Levi, brethren in iniquitie, by a prevailing partie in Scotland and
England, the one the Judas that betray’d him, the other the Pontius
Pilat that crucified him ; and to deal verie plainly, they were the Pres¬
byterians and Independents, two fraternities pretending to a further
step of reformation, and a greater distance from the antichrist, and so
others have reform’d from them, till thereby religion is dwindled into
air, and enthusiastick whimsies, and have reformed themselves, out of
all forms, except it be a form of godliness, the power whereof they
deny.” — “ It is by virtue of these principles, that the gentlemen of the
Calves-head-Gluh meet together upon this day to stick their knives in a
calve’s head, thereby engageing themselves in an unitie to extirpate
monarchie out of Britain, and to mock the humiliations and devotions
of the day out of the Church. These gentlemen act conform to the
Covenanters’ principles, which took off the King’s head. For, as a
learned penn saith, ’Tis not the meat, but the principle that makes those
feasts detestable. For trulie if the people be supream and soveraign,
the King was judg’d and sentenc’d by his proper judges. Yea, let me
ad another consideration by way of question : Is not the calve’ s-head
feast as lawfull as the public thanksgivings that the Covenanters
appointed for any victories they got when fighting against the King f ”
— “ The next particular to be considered, is. When 1 As to the day
of the month, it was this 30 of Januarie, where the second lesson
appointed for morning prayer is the historie of our Saviour’s passion,
which his Majestic thought Dr Juxton, his confessor, had chosen pur-
poslie for his case, but being informed that it was the ordinarie lesson
of the day, he was exceedingly comforted. As to the year, it was the
fatal 164|-. Then it was that all things turned upside down, that
servants turned masters, and masters slaves; then it was that the
spirit of the sword turn’d out the sword of the spirit ; then a king
was chang’d into a protector, a covenant brought in for a creed,
and a liturgie was exchang’d for a directorie. Then were taverns
turn’d into temples, tubbs into pulpits, mechanicks turn’d ministers,
and ministers ston’d like the old prophets. Churches were made stables
for horses, or folds for cattell ; the house of prayer was made a den of
thieves, or a synagogue for Sathan : then it was that the new gospell
turn’d out the old, and extempore excluded the paternoster. — And then
a notable design was set on foot for enlarging the body of Protestants,
whicli was to make an incorporate union with the Turks. — Nay, then a
days, the Jews could obtain their petition for S. Paul’s church to be a
synagogue for the 500,000 lib., which they offered to the usurping and
arbitrary rulers, but the new reformers found they could not spare
it, from being a guard-house to keep the city of London in obedience ;
and had this held, there is no doubt but Moses had thrust out Christ,

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

and the two tables the four Evangelists.” — “Lastly, let us seriously
pour out our souls before God, for our national and personal sins ;
particularly the sin of rebellion, that God may not pour down the vials
of his wrath on the land. Let us pray that the principles for which he
suffered may be revived, and become the practice of this land. Let the
memory of Charles I., as a King and a Christian, become to us as
musick to the ear, and honey to the mouth ; and let the name of
Cromwell and Bradshaw become as odious to British subjects, as the
name of Judas and Pontius Pilat are to Christians.

“ From the spirit of Core, Dathan and Abiram, Absalom and
Achitophel, Balaam and Judas, good Lord deliver us.” ‘

The importunity and insolence of the British Critic has extorted
these extracts from us ; and if he shall come forward with his whole
“ century of Presbyterian preachers,” we shall be prepared to confront
them with two centuries. We have some little acquaintance with the
history of Episcopacy in England and Scotland, both secret and public ;
and we think also that we know something of what its defenders,
whether clerks or cavaliers, can produce against Presbyterians on the
score of imprudence or of violence. The aggression has been on their
side ; we have appeared on the defensive ; and being satisfied that this
is our duty, we shall not shrink from its performance.

1 A Sermon preach’d on the Barbarous and Bloodie Murder of the Royal Martyr, King
Charles the First, 1708.

PART III.

Among the delinquencies of the author of the Tales, we consider it as
none of the least, that his work is highly calculated to foster those
mistaken and unfavourable notions which the people of England enter¬
tain of his countrymen during the period of which he writes. Of this
we have already seen a very convincing proof in the language held by
the British Critic. As an additional proof we may appeal to the British
Review for January. That work is conducted on principles unspeakably
more moderate and liberal than the British Critic ; and, accordingly,
the notice which it takes of the Tales is marked with candour, and a
regard to critical justice. It begins very fairly, by giving a short
narrative of the oppressions which the Covenanters endured ; and it
concludes with expressing a suspicion (for what person of judgment
could fail to suspect ?) that the work has “ infused too much absurdity
and ferocity into the character of the Covenanters,” — “ that its features
are too much on the confines of caricature,” and that it “ displays too
little sensibility to the crimes and cruelties of the royalists.” But the
reviewer was destitute of that knowledge which could enable him to
detect the errors which he suspected, or which could preserve him from
adopting others of which he entertained no suspicion. The reader may
take the following specimen : “ Six bishops were consecrated, and sent
off" to Edinburgh in one coach, to graft prelacy upon the kirk ; to
substitute a regular liturgy for inspired effusions ; to impose fonns and
ceremonies upon a people, who, in the height of their spiritual fervours,
7'egarded all forms and ceremonies with thehitterest scorn, and to destroy
the darling equality of Presbytery, by elevating huge monopolisers oj
church power and jurisdiction.” ^ Whether there were six bishops con¬
secrated at London, or only four, we do not reckon it worth while to
dispute, and whether they were sent off in one coach, or in four coaches,
we shall not give ourselves the trouble to inquire ; but certain we are,
that all tliat follows in that sentence, with the exception of grafting
prelacy on the kirk, is an ignorant waste of empty words, which only
tends to show the reviewer’s rashness, in taking i;p a subject with which
he had no proper acquaintance. It is long since we were satisfied that
no dependence was to be placed upon the judgments, whether favour¬
able or unfavourable, which English censors of the press may be pleased
to pronounce upon any historical work relating to Scotland. And we

1 British Review, No. XVIII., p. 195.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

should not be at all surprised to find that every one of them had adopted,
as genuine, the most foolish and extravagant of the statements in the
Tales, with even less qualification than has been used by the conductors
of the work to which we now refer.

We would be ashamed of being found to cherish a spirit of narrow
and illiberal nationality, especially towards the natives of our sister
kingdom ; but we confess that we have felt proud of the superior know¬
ledge which our countrymen have displayed of the history of England,
compared with the knowledge which Englishmen have of ours ; and we
feel proportionally humbled when we perceive a Scotsman retailing
English blunders, and dressing the most crude materials with laborious
trifling, to feed English prejudices at the expense of his country’s
honour. It is but of late that Englishmen have come to entertain
correct notions of Scotland, or of the character of its inhabitants ; and
to this day their knowledge of its history, and of its parties, political
and religious, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, is ex¬
tremely imperfect and erroneous. Passing over such considerations as
are connected with the political situation of the two countries both
before and after the union of the crowns, .we cannot refrain here from
adverting to a few facts which serve to account for this singular
phenomenon. During the infamous administration of Arran (Captain
James Stuart), when the national liberties were overthrown along with
Presbytery, a libellous attack on the proceedings of the Scottish nation
and church was published under the name of a Royal Declaration.*
Upon the fall of that unprincipled minister, the King disowned the
Declaration, and threw the whole blame upon Archbishop Adamson, by
whom it had been drawn up. But previous to this disavowal, it hacl,
through Adamson’s influence with the English bishops, been reprinted
at London, with a preface more odious than itself, and inserted in the
Chronicle then publishing by Hollinshed, from which it continued to be
copied into the histories of England ; while the Scots were precluded,
by the peculiarity of their circumstances, from publishing anything in
their own vindication.^ After James’s accession to the crown of Eng¬
land, the pen, as well as the influence of the monarch, was employed
in propagating among his new subjects, prejudices against the Presby¬
terian Church, and in loading the memory of its most distinguished
members with every species of unfounded abuse. During the troubles
excited by the imposition of the Liturgy, another calumnious declara¬
tion against the Scots Ch\irch was published by royal authority.® The

1 Declaratiouii of the Kings Majesties In- violence practised by the court and the pre-

tentioun and Meaning toward the iait Actis latic faction, are capable of judging how far
of Parliamant. Edinburgh, 1585. Presbyterians were excusable, and to what

2 The first History of the Church of Scot- degree they were culpable, in not publish-
land, by a Presbyterian, which came farther iug the genuine history of their proceedings,
down than 1567, was Petrie’s, published so until falsehood and misrepresentation had
lato as 1662. The abstract of Calderwood taken such deep root as to become inexter-
was not printed until 1678. Those only who minable.

are intimately acquainted with the events ^ \ Earge Declaration concerning the late
that intervened, and with the fraud and Tumults in Scotland, from theirfirst originals;

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

spirited conduct of tlie Scottish nation, and the sympathy which was
excited in England by a similarity of circumstances, prevented this
attack from proving injurious to the cause of Presbytery. The
Declaration was withdrawn ; and Charles I. imitated the conduct of
his father, by leaving his chaplain, Balcanquhal, to sustain the odium of
that offensive publication. The cloud of prejudice was completely
dissipated, and for several years the character of Scots Presbyterians
stood high among the people of England ; but no sooner was that proud
and inconstant nation freed from its fears of despotism, than it began to
treat the Scots, whose assistance had contributed so materially to its
deliverance, with ingratitude and insult. As a glaring proof of this, it
deserves to be mentioned, that the slanderous Declaration of Adamson
above referred to, was at this time reprinted, and circulated with great
industry, in England, not by the cavaliers, but by the sectaries, and
that both in the English and Scots dialects.'- During the reign of

together with a particular Deduction of the
Seditious Practices of the Prime Leaders of
the Covenanters ; collected out of their owne
foule Acts and Writings, &c. By the King.
London, 1639, fol. p. 430.

The following extracts will show the spirit
of this Declaration: “The first contrivers,
and since pursuers, of their late wicked
covenant (their national covenant, as renew¬
ed in 1638), or pretended holy league (a
name which all good men did abhorre in
them of France), though following the
patterne of all other seditions, they did and
doe pretend religion, yet nothing was or is
lesse intended by them ; but that they,
having received from us full satisfaction to
all their desires, expressed in any of their
petitions, i-emonstrances, or declarations,
yet their persisting in their tumultuous and
rebellious courses doth demonstrate to the
world, their weariness of being governait
by us and our laws,” &c. — “These men,
who give themselves out to be the onely re¬
formers of religion, have taken such a course
to undermine and blow up the religion re¬
formed by the scandell of rebellion and dis¬
obedience, which, so farre as in them lyeth,
they have gone about to cast upon it, that
if the conclave at Rome, the several colleges
or congregations perpetually sitting at Rome
for contriving and effecting the meanes of
reducing to the Roman obedience all those
kiugdomes and provinces which have justly
departed from them, nay, and if, with both
these, ali the Jesuites and others, the most
specially combined and sworn enemies to
our profession, were all assembled in one
place, and had all their wits and devices con¬
centrated into one conclusion and resolution ,
they could hardly have fallen upon such a
way as these pretended reformers have fallen
upon for turning all men out of the pathes
of the reformed religion." — “For by their
particular proceedings, truely set down in
this Our Narration, it will plainly appears,
that their maxims are the same with the
Jesuites; their preachers’ sermons have been
delivered in the very phrase and style of

Becanus, Scippius, andEudaemon Johannes;
their poor arguments, which they have in
their .seditious pamphlets printed orwritten,
are taken almost verbatim out of Bellarmiue
and Suarez, as appeareth to us by Our Royal
Father his Monitorie Preface to all Christian
Kings and Princes,” &c., pp. 2, 3. All the
pulpits in England under the influence of
the Court, re-echoed these charges against
the Scots nation ; and yet, in the following
year, the very proceedings so virulently
arraigned, were ratified by his Majesty as
justand lawful, and the Large Declaration was
condemned as a “ scandalous and dishonour¬
able treatise — full of lies and untruths.”
How far Charles was sincere in this matter,
— what confidence could be placed in his de¬
clarations and promises, while he continued
attached to his evil counsellors, — and what
security the people of Scotland would have
had for the enjoyment of their lately re¬
covered rights, in the event of the King’s
having subjugated the Parliament of Eng¬
land, — it is not difficult for any one acquaint¬
ed with the history of those times to de¬
termine.

t Baillie’s Historical Vindication, Ep.
Dedic. “ That pestiferous carcasse,” says
Baillie, “ which, with all possible infamy,
was buried so soon as borne, and did lye
quiet in its grave of shame till a full climac-
terick of threescore and three years, our
good friends have been so wise for them¬
selves, and kind to us, as to dig up its
stinking bones, and to carry it from house
to house, from shire to shire, over all Eng¬
land, and wherever else a ))riuted pamphlet
can goe, serving their brethren of Scotland
with this curtesie according to their cove¬
nant. And least the antick face of so long
buried a body should not have been looked
upon by the multitude with any content¬
ment, they did choice to be at the cost of
putting it in a fine new English dresse, and
setting upon its head the cape of a royall
title ; all to draw the eyes of the vulgar upon
it, who otherwise might have passed by it
with neglect and disdaine. In this they

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Charles II., and under the tyrannical administration of the Duke of
Lauderdale, the corrupting of the public mind in England by the
circulation of the most false and exaggerated accounts of Scottish
affairs, was systematically pursued, and carried to an extent of which
very few are now aware. Dr Hickes, Lauderdale’s chaplain, was for
a number of years employed in composing the most abusive libels against
the Presbyterians, and all who sought to thwart the measures of his
patron ; ^ and though none who has any regard to his own reputation
for sense or candour would now refer to his writings as authorities,
yet many of his most notorious falsehoods, and grossest misrepresenta¬
tions, were admitted into the general liistory of England, and continue
to this day to pollute its pages. If we add to these the assiduous efforts
of the Scotch Jacobites from the Revolution to the death of Queen
Anne, adverted to in a preceding part of this review, we may be able to
form some adequate idea of the causes which have produced such mis¬
conceptions in the minds of Englishmen respecting the most important
transactions in the history of Scotland.

It might be thought that these mistakes would have been corrected
by the histories of Scotland more lately written by some of our own
countrymen. But this effect has been but partially produced. This
may be attributed, in a great degree, to the general and comprehensive
nature of these histories ; the plan adopted by their authors confining
them to an exhibition of the leading facts, and precluding them from
entering into more minute inquiries and details. But a regard to truth
obliges us to go farther, and to state, that some of our late historians,
from prejudices felt by them on the score of politics or religion, have,
instead of correcting, confirmed the erroneous impressions previously
made on the public mind with relation to some of the most estimable
characters and important transactions in our national annals. We
shall give an example of this from Mr Laing’s History. In his narra¬
tive of transactions from the Restoration to the Revolution, that able
historian describes, with commendable feelings of indignation, the
cruelties of an oppressive and persecuting Government. At the same
time it cannot be denied, that he has been almost as liberal as Hume
in applying the name of fanatics to the objects of persecution, and has ex¬
posed himself to the censime passed by the poet on his predecessor,who

- “ execrates, indeed,

The tyranny that doomed them to the fire,

But gives the glorious sufferers little praise.”

Mr Laing shows himself unfavourable to the Covenanters at an

have put themselves to a peece of pains ment and Presbyters.” Copies of these two
which I never knew or heard used with editions, printed in 164(3, are now before
any other book ; they do print it first in us.

Master Adamson’s owne old Scottish Ian- i The principal of these are “ Ravillac
guage, and thereafter translated it in good Redivivus;” — “ The Spirit of Popery speak-
moderne English, setting before both the ing out of the mouths of Fanatical Protest-
title of — A Declaration made by King James ants;” and “The spirit of Enthusiasm ex -
in Scotland concerning Church Govern- oroised.”

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

earlier period. In general, we consider him as having failed to do
justice to their enlightened zeal for civil liberty, and to their disinte¬
restedness in the union which they formed with the English Parliament,
and in the assistance which they afforded it, during the civil war. But
the passage which we have immediately in our eye relates to the Scots
preachers who went to London in 1640, along with the Commissioners
appointed to conclude the treaty begun at Ripon. “A house,” says
he, “ was appropriated in the city for their (the Scotch Commissioners)
residence ; the adjacent church of St Antholin’s was assigned for their
devotions. They were attended by Henderson and other eminent
divines ; and from dawn till the Sabbath was concluded, their chapel
was crowded and surrounded with multitudes of all ranks, whom the
novelty of the Presbyterian worship had attracted. The conflux and
insatiate resort of the people who clung to the windows when excluded
from the doors, to inhale the sanctified tone and provincial accents of a
barbarous preacher, has been justly ascribed to the fanatical spirit that
began to predominate, which rendered them apt recipients for the fumes
of devotion.” ’ In support of this representation, Mr Laing refers to
Clarendon and Hume. Now, Clarendon does not say one word about
sanctified tones, provincial accent, barbarous dialect, fanatical spirit, or
fumes of devotion. All that he says in proof of the bad taste of the
people who crowded to hear the Scotch preachers, is, that their dis¬
courses were very “ insipid and flat,” ^ — properties, one would be apt to
conclude, not much calculated to foster a “ fanatical spirit,” or to raise
“ the fumes of devotion.” Mr Laing must, therefore, have borrowed his
representation solely from Mr Hume ; and, indeed, he has merely altered
the language used by that historian. Having described the crowd
Avithout doors as “ catching at least some distant murmur or broken
phrases of the holy rhetoric,” Hume adds ; “ All the eloquence of Par¬
liament, now well refined from pedantry, animated with the spirit of
liberty, and employed in the most important interests, was not attended
to with such insatiable avidity, as were these lectures, delivered with
ridiculous cant, and a provincial accent, full of barbarism and igno¬
rance. ” * Now we must say, that all this is ridiculous cant, and full of
ignorance ; and we are surprised that a person of Mr Laing’s good
sense, and who web. kneAV upon what slender grounds many of Mr
Hume’s descriptions rest, should have adopted such a statement. It
was ridiculous cant in Mr Hume to talk in the style of applause of the
refined eloquence of Parliament, and of their being “ animated with the
spirit of liberty,” for which he felt no admiration ; and we can view
this in no other light than as a flourish to enable him to aim a more
effectual stroke at the Scots preachers, and the exercises of religion ;
just as he exalted the character of Queen Mary, of Avhom he confesses
he had no good opinion, that he might lower the reputation of the

1 Laing’s History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 1S4.

^ Clarendon, Hist, of the ReboUioii, vol. i. p. 151. Lond. 1702, foL

* Hume’s History, chap. 5l.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

reformers of his native country. What ground had he for saying that
the sermons of the Scots preachers were “delivered with ridiculous
cant 1 ” Or what good reason had he for asserting that they spoke with
an “ accent full of barbarism and ignorance ? ” We are persuaded he had
none. Both he and Mr Laing seem to have taken it for granted, that the
farther back we go in the history of Britain, the difference between the lan¬
guage of the English and Scots was the wider. The very reverse of this we
believe to be the truth. They seem to have taken it for granted, that, in
1640, well educated natives of Scotland could not deliver a discourse before
Englishmen of the same class without exposing themselves to ridicule by
the barbarity of their provincial dialect and accent. It might have oc¬
curred to them, that, if this had been the case. Lord Clarendon would
scarcely have omitted to particularise it on the present occasion. It
might have occurred to them, that they must, in the course of their read¬
ing, have met with this allegation by some contemporary writer, if
there had been any foundation laid for it. For our part, we can declare,
that we do not recollect a single instance of such a reflection being
brought against the Scottish divines (and they were exposed to many
reflections, both grave and satirical) during the time that they were in
London attending upon the Westminster Assembly.

With respect to the matter and composition of their sermons, which
are of greater consequence, we must say, in opposition to Lord Claren¬
don, that they were not “ insipid and flat,” and in opposition to Mr
Hume and Mr Laing, that they were neither debased with “ pedantry,”
nor “ fanatical and barbarous.” We have read, not one, but a number
of sermons preached by Henderson, Gillespie, and Baillie,^ and we are
sure we do not go too far Avhen we say, that they may bear a comparison
■until any sermon at that time delivered in London, and that they might
have been heard (and indeed were heard) by the most refined members
of the Parliament of England without the slightest feeling of disgust or
ridicule. With respect to Henderson in particular, three of his sermons,
preached before that Parliament, are now on our table, and they show
that he possessed not merely good sense and learning, but also a rich
imagination and a refined taste. That our readers may not be left to
depend upon our opinion, we shall give the character of this divine as
drawn by a member of the English Church, who cannot be suspected of
partiality. “ Alexander Henderson, the chief of the Scottish clergy in
this reign,” says Grainger, “ was learned, eloquent, and polite ; and per¬
fectly well versed in the knowledge of mankind. He was at the helm
of affairs in the General Assemblies in Scotland ; and was sent into
England in the double capacity of a dmne and plenipotentiary. He
knew how to rouse the people to war, or negotiate a peace. Whenever
he preached, it was to a crowded audience ; and when he pleaded or
argued, he was regarded with mute attention.” ^ Such was the man

I Mr Robert Blair was the only other Scots have no reason to think that they were
minister in London at the time referred to. inferior to those of his colleagues.

■We do not speak of him, hecause we have ^ Biographical History of England, vol. i.
not met with any of his sermons; but we p. 416.

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

■whom our modem historians modestly call “ a barbarous preacher ; ”
and under such direction were those ecclesiastical courts, whose pro¬
ceedings they represent as characterised by bigotry and fanaticism !

We have pointed out this instance of inaccuracy and unfairness in the
writings of Mr Laing, because many, who are on their guard against the
palpable prejudices of Hume, may be in danger of being imposed upon
by his representations. With the political sentiments which he avows
in his Mstory, we have the happiness in general to agree ; and on many
points we have been much indebted to the accuracy of his researches.
But no coincidence in political opinion, nor in any set of opinions, and
no obligations which we may feel to the labours of an individual, will
induce us to overlook any act of injustice done to truth, or any attempt
to detract from the hard-earned praise so justly due to men who, in
critical times, stood forth as the defenders of religion and liberty. It is
but justice to say, that we know none of our historians who has been
more exact in examining his authorities than Mr Laing, and we have
never in one instance found him chargeable with anything like inten¬
tional imfaithfulness in reporting the result of his inquiries. But we
beg leave to make two remarks here ; and we make them not so much
in relation to the case under consideration, as with a view to historical
reading at large. In the first place, there is a wide difference between
the consulting of books and manuscripts in order to acquire what may
be called the facts of a period, and a consulting of these in order to
ascertain the character of the age, including the opinions, talents, ac¬
quirements, and moral qualities of the principal persons who figured in
it. This last requires a compass of reading, a minuteness of investiga¬
tion, a slowness in progress, a patient and long-continued attention to
the subject, which few are inclined to bestow, and which is scarcely to
be expected from those who write general history, or the history of a
particular nation during a long period of years. Even the most accurate
historians -will commit very great mistakes in this respect, if they are
not extremely cautious and diffident in giving their judgment on points
which they have not carefidly investigated. In the second place, we
must remark, that a spirit of indifference to religion incapacitates a
person in a great measure for doing justice to our history during the
IGth and 17th centuries. Eeligion had such influence on all the revolu¬
tions of that period, and its disputes were so much involved in all the
great political questions which were then agitated, that it is impossible
to give a just view of the latter, without an extensive and accurate
acquaintance with the former. But those who are inclmed to be
sceptical in religion, or who view all its forms as equally uncertain or
false, or unworthy of rational reception, naturally feel a disgust at those
inquiries which it is absolutely necessary for them to make, and, enter¬
ing upon the investigation with reluctance, they are apt to conduct it
with superficiality. To the same cause we must trace the disposition of
such writers to form a low opinion of the talents of religious persons, or

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

to impute their actions to unworthy motives. Unacquainted with the
influence which religion exerts over the minds and conduct of men, they
are ready on all occasions to charge them with weakness, with hypo¬
crisy, or with fanaticism.

To some, perhaps, these observations may appear irrelevant to the
subject of this review ; but the truth is, that we would not have deemed
the Tales worthy of the notice which we have bestowed on them, had
we not been convinced that the ordinary sources of public information
are deeply polluted. We judge it of consequence to point out this
along with some of its principal causes. A radical mistake, both as to
measures and characters, runs through the most interesting part of our
history, and until this is noticed and corrected, partial misrepresenta¬
tions may be exposed, but the evil will remain uucured. Nor can the
instances to which we have just referred be viewed as unconnected
with our present subject. The preachers who, in the Tales, are held up
to ridicule and odium as fools or fanatics, received their education
under Henderson and his colleagues ; their principles agreed with those
of their predecessors ; their talents and acquirements did not radically
differ ; and the aspersions thrown on the characters of the one and the
other may be traced to the same causes, political or religious.

The author of the Tales has given a most unfair view of the common
people of Scotland in point of intelligence. This we deem very un¬
worthy of a Scotsman, who should be proud of the superior sense and
information of his countrymen, and be always ready to do justice to
them. He could scarcely fail being aware, that the common people
among the Presbyterians were in general better informed than the
rest of their countrymen of the same rank. But what a poor idea must
we form of their intelligence, if we judge of it from the ridiculous and
incoherent harangues put into the mouth of such persons as Widow
Headrigg, even on points of religion, with which they had the best
opportunity of being acquainted! Such unfair representations will,
however, have no influence, except on those who are either completely
ignorant of the subject, or predisposed to embrace them. They are
flatly contradicted by the credible testimonies of both friends and foes
to the Covenanters. “ At the king’s return,” says Kirkton, “ every
paroche had a minister, every village a school, every family a Bible ; yea,
in most of the countrey all the children of age could read the Scriptures,
and were provided of Bibles, either by the parents or their ministers.”*
As a proof of the thirst for knowledge excited in the minds of the
people, that historian mentions that he knew of sixty aged persons who
went to school that they might acquire the art of reading. Bishop
Burnet confirms the statements of Kirkton respecting the assiduity
with which the Presbyterian ministers performed the public and private
duties of their office, and the proficiency which the people made under
their instructions. He was one of the six Episcopalian divines selected

1 History of the Church of Scotland, MS.

100

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

to itinerate in the west country, and to persuade the people, by their
sermons and private conversations, to agree to the scheme of accommoda¬
tion between Episcopacy and Presbytery, which Leighton was so eager
to carry into effect. They were the most learned and able men of
that persuasion, and usually called tlie Bisliopi Evangelists. “ The
Episcopal clergy who were yet in the country,” says Burnet, in his
account of that progress, “ could not argue much for anything ; and
would not at all argue in favour of a proposition that they hated. The
people of the country came generally to hear us, though not in great
crowds. We were indeed amazed to see a poor commonalty so capable
to argue upon points of government, or on the bounds to be set to the
power of princes in matters of religion : upon all these topics they had
texts of Scripture at hand, and were ready with their answers to any¬
thing that was said to them. This measure of knowledge was spread
even among the meanest of them, their cottagers, and their servants.
They were, indeed, vain of their knowledge, much conceited of them¬
selves, and were full of a most entangled scrupulosity ; so that they
found or made difficulties in everything that could be laid before
them.” ^ The reader will observe that this extract refers to the very
topics on which the Covenanters are made to talk so foolishly and ridicu¬
lously in the Tales. It is evident, from Ins own account, that the bishop
had found himself not a little “ entangled ” and hard pressed in the
disputes which he maintained with these cottagers ; and, therefore, we
can excuse him for complaining of the scrupulosity with which they
adhered to their opinions, and the vanity with which they triumphed in
the replies which they made to his arguments. He tells us, however,
that he had afterwards an opportunity of revenging liimself on one of
their preachers, to whose studied speech against Episcopacy, he, being
“then full of those matters,” made a most triumphant and silencing
reply.*

The author of the Tales may perhaps think that he is so far borne
out in his representations of the Presbyterian commonalty, by what
Bishop Burnet has said of their prayers. “ They,” says he, speaking of
the ministers, “ had brought the people to such a degree of knowledge,
that cottagers and servants would have prayed eoctempore. I have
often heard them at it ; and though there %vas a large miodure of odd
stuff, yet I have been astonished to hear how copious and ready they
were in it.” * But a small degree of attention will convince any one
that this affords only the shadow of an apology. The bishop acknow¬
ledges, in the very next sentence, “they had a comprehension of
matters of religion, greater than I have seen among people of that
sort anywhere.” By the mixture which he finds fault with, he there¬
fore most probably meant such unfit expressions and phrases as sensible
people may be supposed to use in extemporaneous speaking. And we

1 nistorv of His Own Times, vol. i. p. 431. Edin. 1753. 12mo.

2 Ibid., p. 435. 3 Ibid., p. 22S.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

101

know that the same charge is to this day brought by the advocates for
a prescribed liturgy against the prayers still used in the Presbyterian
Churches. Besides, the things which the bishop characterises as odd,
are in a great measure matters of taste, which is various and change¬
able. What one man thinks odd, appears to another very natural, and
what was familiar in one age, becomes strange in the next ; nay, so
very capricious is this principle, that we often find things which had
been exploded as oddites and barbarisms, revived and brought into
fashion again. We shall endeavour to make this as plain as we can,
by an example. Poetry has of late adopted a new style among us, and
has exhibited beauties which were not formerly recognised, or held in
admiration, divring what was usually called our Augustan age. Let us
suppose that some of the critics of the old school should rise from the
dead — Addison, Pope, and Johnson, for instance ; and let tl\e admired
productions of some of our Lake and Border poets be submitted to
their judgment, we are strongly inclined to suspect that their verdict
would contain a clause of the same kind with that which the bishop
pronounced on the extempore prayers of the Presbyterian commonalty,
and that they would say, “There is a large mixture of odd stuff in
them ; yet we have been astonished to see how copious and ready they
are in it.” As for the bishop himself, he is a very entertaining memoir-
writer, and a very instructive one too ; but it must be confessed by his
greatest admirers, that there is a great mixture of odd stiff in his Own
Times ; and often have we been astonished at the copious and ready
manner in which he pours it forth. Even the Liturgy of the Church
of England is not exempted from this charge — it, too, contains “ odd
stuff and we do not recollect to have heard any expressions or phrases
or any repetitions of them, used in extemporaneous prayer, which are
half so objectionable and offensive to us as the irreverent ejaculations
and vain repetitions which occur in the Litany alone, “ to be sung or
said after Morning Prayer, upon Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,
and at other times when it shall be commanded by the Ordinary.”

Bishop Burnet is very particular in his account of the Presbyterian
preachers ; and while he allows that they were pious men, and highly
respected by the gentry as well as the common people, he testifies a dis¬
position to find as many faults in them as he can. With all the faults
he has ascribed to them, we do not hesitate in preferring them far,
not only to his brethren in Scotland (whose inferiority, with a very few
exceptions, he does not attempt to conceal) ; but even to the Episcopa¬
lian clergy of England, including both the “ pyeballed,” and also those
who undertook to “ reform the way of preaching,” and who recom¬
mended themselves so much to that excellent judge of true taste and
good sermons, Charles II. We have a great respect for the bishop, on
account of his private character, and his public services in the cause of
civil and religious liberty both before and after the Revolution ; but
regard to truth, and to the character of men who suffered far more for

102

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

this cause than he did, obliges us to mention a few facts not generally
adverted to, which go to qualify our confidence in his dicta on this sub¬
ject. The first relates to his sentiments on religion. The Presbyterian
ministers were all decided Calvinists, whereas the bishop was an Arme¬
nian, — a circumstance which at that time could scarcely fail to give a
tinge to his opinion respecting their sermons. Secondly, we ought to
consider his employment during the time that he was in Scotland. He
was not only of Episcopalian sentiments, but, during a number of years,
he acted as a zealous champion for Episcopacy, and for the laws by which
it was established and supported in this country after the Restoration.
In this warfare he did not confine himself to the pulpit, the academical
chair, and private disputations, but he appeared as a declared antago¬
nist to the Presbyterians from the press.^ It is proper also to state,
that, in these publications, he did not treat them with the greatest
mildness, and was in his turn handled by his opponents without much
ceremony. He has not mentioned these facts in his history ; and he
was extremely anxious to suppress the dedication of one of his polemical
works, in which he panegyrised Lauderdale, whose administration he
had warmly supported, but whom he afterwards deserted.^ Although,
therefore, he had altered his views, and rejoented of his former conduct,
in many things, before he composed the History of His Own Times,
yet there is good reason for doubting if the bishop was the impartial
historian which many have supposed liim to be, so far as Scots Presby¬
terians are concerned ; and it is natural to think that the unfavourable
impressions which he had early received against them, and which were
confirmed by the controversial warfare which he had managed, con¬
tinued to exert an influence over his mind. This will account, in a
great degree, for what he says of the haughtiness of the Presbyterian
ministers, — their servility, censoriousness, indiscretion, and passion, —
the indifferent size of their capacity, and the confined nature of their
literary acquirements. Some of these charges are not very consistent,
and the accusation of servility or fawning comes with rather a bad grace
from one who repeatedly fell into this sin. More than one of them

1 In 1669 he published “ A modest and by prefixing so great a name to these Con-

free Conference betwixt a Conformist and ferences, to be secure from censure by your
a Non-Conformist, about the present dis- 'Pa.trocmj, smce these enemies of all order and
tempers of Scotland.” This was answered, authority, with whom I deal, will rather be
in 1671, by “The True Non-Conformist;” provoked to lash me with the more severity.”
to which ho replied in “ A Vindication of The first Conference is intended to refute
the Authority, Constitution, and Laws of the opinion, “that subjects under a lawful
the Church and State of Scotland. Glasgow, sovereign, when oppressed in their estab-
1673.” lished religion, may, by arms, defend them¬

selves, and resist the magistrates,” and to

2 In his Dedication of the Vindication to prove that magistrates do not derive their
the Duke of Lauderdale, he says, ” To power from the people. This shows tliat
whom is a vindication of the authority and the bishop’s political sentiments afterwards
laws of this kingdom so due as to your underwent a great change, and that his
Grace, to whom his Majesty hath, by a royal biographers do not state the matter fairly,
delegation, committed the administration of when they assert that, before this period,
affairs among us ; and under whose wise and he was averse to all severities in matters of
happy conduct we have enjoyed so long a tract religion, and condemned the harsh measures
of unmterrupted tranquillity ? — I pretend not, taken against the Presbyterians.

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

103

possessed as large a size of capacity, and as great a compass of learning,
as the bishop ; and they would have distinguished themselves, had it
not been for the unfavourable circumstances in which they were pkced.
We have no hesitation in mentioning Mr John Brown of Wamphray as
one of these.

“ The preachers,” says the bishop, “ went all in one tract, of raising
observations on points of doctrine out of their text, and proving these
by reasons, and then of applying those and showing the use,” <fec. Now,
in the Jlrst place, it is highly to the credit of the Presbyterian preachers
in point of sound sense, that none of them did at any time suffer them¬
selves to be infected with the conceited, pedantic, absurd, and disgust¬
ing practice, so general and so long continued among English divines,
of interlarding their sermons with phrases and quotations from Latin
and Greek authors. Secondly, the bishop is forced to allow that their
method was excellently calculated to gain, at least, one of the great
ends of preaching ; for he says that “ the people grew to follow a ser¬
mon quite through every branch of it.” But, thirdly, it is not true that
the method described by him was invariably followed by the Presby¬
terian preachers. We allow that it was common. But a mode of
preaching less encumbered with divisions of the subject, more varied,
more free and excursive, and more fitted to awaken the attention and
enliven the mind, had been introduced among them at an earlier period,
and was followed by many of the ministers. This plan was adopted,
not only by Archbishop Leighton, but also by many of the Protesters,
who were the most zealous Presbyterians.^ If we have room for it, we
shall afterwards give a specimen of a third method, which was simple
and chaste, and united in a great degree the advantages of the two pre¬
ceding plans. The author of the Tales has given a specimen of what
may be reckoned a fourth plan, in the sermon that he has put into the
mouth of Ephraim Macbriar, of which the idea has been borrowed from
a sermon preached by Cameron, that we have read. These facts show
that neither the bishop nor our author was well informed on this sub¬
ject, though both of them have written on it with suflicient confidence.
The bishop farther tells us, that some of the Presbyterian preachers
mistook for “ the work of the Spirit of God ” what their people said to

1 Mr Baillie gives the following description was prejudiced against the party, in which
of the plan in his account of the settlement this method of sermonising was most preva-
of Mr Andrew Gray, by the interest of the lent. Mr Baillie was warmly attached to the
Protesters at Glasgow; — “He has the new Public Resolutions. Specimens of this plan
guise of preaching, which Mr Hugh Binning may be seen in the discourses of Leighton
and Mr Robert Leighton began, containing and Binning. It may contribute to the cor-
[perhaps ci'adamiKj7] the ordinary way of ex- rection of mistakes as to the character of
pounding and dividing a text, of raising doc- those times, to remark, that Archbishop
trines and uses ; but runs out on a discourse Leighton differed very widely from Burnet,
on some common head, in a high, romancing, Nairn, and Charteris, on the doctrines of re-
and unscriptural style, tickling the ear for vealed religion. On these he coincided in sen-
the present, and moving the affections in timent with the Presbyterian ministers, seve-
some, but leaving, as he confesses, little or ral of whom, although they condemned his
nought to the memory and understanding.” compliance with Episcopacy, yet, having been
— Baillie’s Letters, ii. 385. This, it must be educated under him, or admiring his talents
recollected, is the representation of one who and piety, imitated his style of preaching.

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them “ under fits of melancholy ; or vapours, or obstructions.” It might
be so, and it might also be true that the bishop mistook the vapours for
“abstraction of mind, and the other great heights of Christian religion,”
and that, by recommending these feelings as the essence of true religion,
he fed this disease of weak minds too much. For it should be known,
that the bishop was, at least at one period of his life, an admirer of
ultra-puritanism, and found great fault with the Presbyterians for their
want of spirituality. “ The true heights of spirituality,” says he, “ were
as little preached as the living much in abstraction, silence, and solitude ;
the being often in the still contemplations of God and Christ, the be¬
coming dead to all things else, spending dayes and nights in secret
fastings and prayers, — how seldom were these things spoken of?
Who of you despise the world? give away your goods to the poor?
who bear injuries without resentments and revenge ? Who are willing
to be set at nought ?” &c.^ We do not, however, suppose that Bishop
Burnet was ever a thorough convert to the opinions of the mystics ; he
spoke, in a great measure, the language of Charteris, and one or two
others with whom he at that time associated ; and he was too much a
man of the world, and too fond of company and of talking, ever to
become an ascetic or quietist.

Whatever were the talents of the Presbyterian preachers, there can be
no doubt of their success in accomplishing a most salutary and desirable
reformation on the manners of the people. This had become very con¬
spicuous in the latter part of the Interregnum, after the confusions pro¬
duced by the civil war had subsided. The efficacy of Presbytery, in
producing sobriety and decorum of behaviour, was universally acknow¬
ledged. “ Nobody,” says Kirkton, “ complained more of our church
government than our taverners, whose ordinary lamentation was, ‘Their
trade was broke, people were become so sober.’ ” After the Restoration,
when licentiousness of every kind was not only tolerated but encouraged,
when the priest as well as the prince had become profane, the Presby¬
terian spirit with which the nation was still animated, was the only
principle which checked and counteracted the progress of the alarming
evil. It was the salt which preserved the mass from total and incurable
corruption. We are told, that, in the primitive days of Christianity,
those who were persecuted, were scattered abroad, and went everywhere
preaching the word. The laws against non-conformity, and their rigid
execution, contributed indirectly to introduce the blessings of religious

1 Modest and Free Conference, pp. 19, 23. a religious establishment which was found-
“ Sir,” says the bishop’s opponent in reply, ed in violence, and productive of profaue-
“ you are so much upon your heights, that ness, and as a prudent pretext for their
you see nothing about you. Pray, descend a consulting their own ease in complying
little, and consider that your own ministers with the arbitrary injunctions of author-
are as great strangers to these fine expres- ity. “ O the rare temper of this new de-
sions of yours, and you and they to the vice, that both inwardly elevates to the
things signified, to say no worse, as ours highest spiritual abstractions, and outwardly
are.” He adds, that this ideal and abstract- smooths to a most easy temporising corn¬
ed scheme of devotion was taken up by pliance!” — The True Non-Conformist, pp.
many as an excuse for their patronising 52, 01, 62.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

105

knowledge and good order into some parts of Scotland, which had
hitherto resisted the influence of all the ordinary means of civilisation,
and continued in a state of ignorance and barbarism. The good effects
of field-preaching on the inhabitants of the Borders have been mentioned
by different writers but there is reason to believe that they were more
extensive than is commonly supposed. There is an anecdote illustrative
of this which deserves to be generally known. The “ Thieves of An-
nandale ” had become a proverbial expression, from the fact of the in¬
habitants of that district being generally addicted to theft. In 1678,
after the Highland host was brought in upon the west country, the Duke
of Hamilton having gone to London to represent the grievances of the
country, was followed by the Marquess of Atholl and the Earl of Perth.
In travelling through Annandale to Carlisle with a small retinue, the
two statesmen were benighted, and unable to find their way. Two
country women, who happened to meet with them in this situation,
conducted them to a cottage, the inhabitants of which gave them the
best entertainment in their power. The noblemen having expressed a
fear that their horses would be stolen during the night, as the house in
which they were lodged was unlocked, the cottagers quieted their
apprehensions by assuring them, that “ there was now no thieving in
their country since the field -preachings came among them adding
many other particulars respecting the reformation which had been pro¬
duced upon the inhabitants.^ We shall subjoin another anecdote, very
characteristic of the two parties into which the nation was divided, and
descriptive of the marks by which the judges were accustomed to dis¬
tinguish the objects of prosecution. During the heat of the contentions,
the parish of Wiston, in Clydesdale, having become vacant, a very un¬
popular candidate was presented. On the day of his admission, the
people rose and chased the curate and his company from the church.
A lady in the parish, who was suspected of having instigated the
tumult, was summoned before the Privy Council. When she appeared
at the bar, and her libel had been read over, the chancellor asked her if
, the charges were true, to which she replied, “The devil one word is true
in them.” The lords stared on one another ; and after a short pause,
the chancellor courteously told her, that her cause was adjourned to a
future day. She was never more troubled. “ Such virtue,” says Kirk-
ton, “ there was in a short curse fullie to satisfie such governours ; and
' many thought it good policy to demonstrate themselves to be honest
profane people, that they might vindicate themselves of the dangerous
' suspicion of being Presbyterians.”^

The author of the Tales accuses the Covenanters of “ an abhorrent
■ condemnation of all elegant studies.” — (Vol. ii. 315.) In order to make
room for statements which we consider as of greater intrinsic importance,
we must exclude at present the materials which we had collected on

' * Leyden’s Scenes of Infancy ; and Scott’s Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Introd.

* Kirkton’s MS. History. * Ib.

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this subject. We positively deny the charge, and challenge the proof.
Though certainly not bound to prove a negative, we have not the
slightest doubt that we could show, to the satisfaction of our readers,
that the accusation is utterly unfounded ; that it is of the same kind
with the charge so long reiterated against the Roundheads of England,
until it was silenced by a more accurate knowledge of their private his¬
tory, and particularly by the publication of the Memoirs of Colonel
Hutchinson ; that though the circumstances in which they were placed
did not admit of their cultivating them, yet the Covenanters did not
condemn, far less express their abhorrence of elegant studies ; that,
among those held in great reputation among them, there were persons of
an elegant turn of mind and good taste ; and that, while the author, with
the view of exalting the character of the Cavaliers, and putting into the
mouth of Burley that condemnation of elegant pursuits which he im¬
putes to the whole party, has fabricated a copy of verses for Bothwell,
he has, at the same time, from inexcusable ignorance or the most cul-
l^able partiality, overlooked or suppressed the fact, that there was, at
that very time, in the camp of the Covenanters, a man, who, besides his
other accomplishments, was a poet superior to any on the opposite side
whom he could produce or now can name. These affirmations we en¬
gage to make good, provided they are called in question, and as soon as
we shall have a regular opportunity of redeeming our pledge.

If we believe the author of the Tales, the Covenanters were devoid of
enlightened regard to civil liberty, and actuated solely by bigoted at¬
tachment to Presbytery, and a desire to have it restored in opposition
to Prelacy and Erastianism. It is unnecessary to refer to particular
passages ; this is the idea conveyed to the mind of the reader by the
whole representation. Now, in the first place, this statement, granting
it to be correct, would not warrant a summary condemnation of the
struggles of the Covenanters, and still less the ridicule with which it has
been attempted to eover them. The resistance lately made by the
Spanish nation to French usurpation, and its persevering exertions to
throw off the yoke imposed upon it, met with general applause in this
country. Did these proceed from liberal views of civil liberty % or was
the object of them of more intrinsic importance than that for which the
Scottish Covenanters contended? Who will say so that knows any¬
thing of the subject ? At the Restoration, the Presbyterians of Scotland
were in possession of rights, political and ecclesiastical, which were
secured to them in the most solemn manner. These were violated and
overthrown by a prince, who had sworn in his cc»ronation oath to main¬
tain them. Their established religion was taken from them ; laws were
enacted and penalties inflicted, to enforce conformity to an establish¬
ment odious to the nation ; and they were fined, imprisoned, and pro¬
scribed for refusing this, and for receiving divine ordinances from the
only class of persons whom they could acknowledge as their lawful
ministers. After enduring such oppressions, and being driven at last

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

107

to the extremity of taking up arms in the defence of their lives, are they
to he stigmatised and derided, because, in their manifestoes, they de¬
manded the restoration of their covenanted privileges and laws, instead
of pleading for the rights of men, or for their “ chartered rights as free¬
men,” in the elegant and approved style which a modern novelist is
pleased to prescribe ?

In the secon(l place, we directly oppose ourselves to the statement,
and maintain, that the Covenanters were the genuine and enlightened
friends of civil liberty, and the only persons who made a consistent and
firm stand in its defence. It may justly be matter of surprise that this
should be doubted, or that we should be obliged to produce evidence in
its support. Who can doubt it, that is acqiiainted with those Covenants
from which they obtained their name, for which they have been accused
of cherishing a superstitious veneration, and which they justly vene¬
rated ? In the National Covenant, as renewed in 1638, did they not
declare, that the innovations and evils against which they had supi^licated
and complained, did “ sensibly tend to the subversion and ruin of our
liberties, laws, and estates I ” and did they not “ promise and swear to
stand to the defence of our dread sovereign, the king’s majesty, his
person and authority, in defence of the liberties and laws of the Mngdom ?”
In the Solemn League and Covenant, made in 1643, did they not
declare, that they had before their eyes not only “ the glory of God, the
advancement of the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and
the honour and happiness of the king’s majesty and his posterity, but
also the true 'public liberty, safety, and peace of the kingdoms ?” did
they not swear to endeavour, with their estates and lives, mutually to
preserve “ the rights and 'privileges of the Parliaments, and the liberties
of the kingdoms, and to preserve and defend the king’s majesty’s person
and authority, in the preservation and defence of the true religion and
liberties of the kingdoms ?” and did they not describe the object of their
league to be the defence and promotion of “ this common cause of
! religion, liberty, and -peace of the kingdoms 1” In the renovation ot
this Covenant, in 1648, did they not declare, “Some amongst ourselves
have laboured to put into the hands of our king an arbitrary and un¬
limited power, destructive to the privileges of the Parliaments, and
liberties of the subject “ and many of us have been accessory of late
to those means and ways whereby the freedom and privileges of Parlia¬
ments have been encroached upon, and the subjects oppressed in their
consciences, persons, and estates 1 ” and did they not promise to “ vindi-
I cate and maintain the liberties of the subjects, in all these things which
concern their consciences, persons, and estates'?” — We appeal to the
struggle which they maintained, in conjunction with the Parliament of
England, during the civil war, and to the blood and treasure which
they expended in that contest. Was not the preservation of the
liberties of the three kingdoms against arbitrary power, and the settle¬
ment of these on a sure basis, one principal object of this, and con-

108

KEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

stantly avowed by tliem in all their manifestoes, declarations, and
apologies ? And did they not protest against the invasions made on
these by the English army, in trying and executing the king, putting
down the Parliament, and altering the whole frame of the constitution
and government ? — We appeal to their conduct when they espoused the
interest of Charles II., in opposition to the Commonwealth of England.
Did they admit him to the exercise of the royal authority in Scotland,
upon his consenting to the Presbyterian establishment, in the way of
overlooking and sacrificing their own civil rights, or those of the sister
kingdoms ? Did they not, on the contrary, expressly take him bound,
at his coronation, to preserve the latter, as well as the former, inviolate 1
We appeal to their conduct at the Restoration. Were they not the only
party who endeavourea to prevent the overthrow of the civil as well as
the ecclesiastical constitution, and who testified against the laws which
stretched the royal prerogative beyond all due bounds, and encroached
upon the liberty of the subject 1 — We appeal to the books written by
Covenanters, and held in the greatest esteem among them. To Lex,
Rex, which had the honour to be eonsigned to the flames among the
first acts of the Government after the Restoration, which, as its title
expresses, was intended to prove that “the law is superior to the
prince,” and which established, with much learning and ingenuity, the
leading principles of political liberty, in opposition to the patrons of
absolute power and passive obedience. To the Apologetical Relation,
in which the civil supremacy with which Charles II. was invested is
shown to be no less incompatible with the liberties of the nation, than
his ecclesiastical supremacy was with the liberties of the Church in
which the proceedings of the Parliaments of England and Scotland, in

1 In answer to the objection, that “ the
Parliament having anue.ved such power to
the crown, it is lawful for private subjects
to acknowledge and swear to maiutaiii it,”
the author makes the following reply : “ In
poynt of law it will be a very great question,
whether Parhaments, who are but trustees
intrusted by the people, whose commission¬
ers they are, and virtually, if not expressly,
bound to maintaine their rights and privi¬
leges, may betray their trust, and give
away the just and ancient privileges of
Parliament, and therewith the just and
ancient liberties of the people. It will
be a great question, if they, at their own
hand, may alter the fundamental! lawes of
the land, without the consent of those whose
commissioners they are. And it will be a
greater question in law, if this Parliament
might have sold or given away the privi¬
leges of Parliament, and liberties of the
people, seeing so much in poynt of law may be
objected against its being a free Parliament,
if the want of freedome of election in shires
and burghs — if prelimitation — if the elec¬
tion of such as were not capable, by the fun¬
damental! constitution of Parliaments, and
practice of the kingdome, — and other infor¬
malities of that kinde, may have any place

or weight in the annulling of Parliaments.
But, 2(i, in poynt of conscience, it is clear
that Parliaments may not now give away,
and according to their pleasure dispone of the
rights and privileges of Parliament ; for in
the third article of the League and Covenant,
all the people of the land, and Parliaments
among the rest, are sworne to maintaine, in
their severall places and capacities, and so
Parliaments, in their parliamejitary capa¬
city, the rights and privileges of Parliament.
3(Z, Though the Parliament, notwithstand¬
ing of the bonde of the Covenant, should de¬
nude themselves of their privileges, yet,
now seeing every particular member of the
kingdome is sworne, according to his place
and station, to maintaine the rights and
privileges of Parliament, they may not
assent unto such a deed of the Parliament,
and by their oath and subscription approve
of such a wrong ; for that is the least that
private persons, who desire to minde and
make conscience of the oath of God, can do
at such a time, viz. to refuse to give an ex-
presse, clear, and positive assent unto such
a wrong done to the rights and privileges of
Parliament contrary to the Covenant.” —
Apologetical Relation, by Brown of Wamph-
ray, pp. 257, 258. Printed anno 1C05.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

109

opposing the arbitrary designs of Charles I., and the validity of the
rescinded acts, are defended ; and in which the court of High Commis¬
sion is condemned as contrary to “ the rights and privileges of parlia¬
ments” and “ the liberties of the kingdom,” and as flowing from “ an
arbitrary power assumed by the prince over them, contrary to the fun¬
damental laws of the land, in setting up what judicatories he pleaseth
without consent of Parliament, without whose special warrant and
authority the meanest flxed court cannot be erected.” ‘ The same
principles are avowed and vindicated in NaphtaliH in the defence
of that work, entitled Jus Populi Vindicatum and in the Apology for
the Persecuted Ministers and Professors of the Presbyterian Reformed
ReligionJ These were the books which were in the hands of the
Covenanters, and from which they derived that knowledge which
astonished Bishop Burnet and none but a person who is ignorant of
their contents, could ingenuously oppose “ Wliiggery” to the “ chartered
rights of freemen,” as the author of the Tales has done. If, in their
reasoning on this subject, they made frequent appeals to the Bible, this
is no more than our author has made Morton do, upon the very evident
principle, that arguments drawn from this source are most level to the
minds of the common people, and best adapted to satisfy conscience. It
is no more than was common at that time among writers on govern-
I ment, and was afterwards practised by Sydney, Locke, and Hoadly.
But they by no means conflned themselves to such arguments ; they
freely appealed to the law of nature and nations, to the constitution and
practice of free monarchies and republics in ancient and modern times,
and to the authority of the best writers on politics and jurisprudence.

It is true that the Covenanters, in their apologies, grievances, and
demands, gave a prominent and distinguished place to their ecclesias¬
tical rights and privileges. And must they be blamed for doing this ?
They did so, because, much as they valued their civil rights, they
prized their religious rights still more highly. They did so, because
they considered it as more daring to invade, and more criminal to sur¬
render, the privileges of the “ kingdom of heaven,” than the privileges of
an eartlfly kingdom. They did so, because it was more immediately on
the ground of religion, and of their adherence to their ecclesiastical
liberties, that they were then suffering. And, in fine, they did so
because they were convinced that it was principally through these that
their civil rights were struck at and endangered. The author of the
Tales holds up the Covenanters to ridicule as narrow-minded bigots and
' fanatics, because they preached, and testified and contended, with such
zeal and keenness, against Prelacy, Erastianism, and the Indulgence.
But the ridicule must appear extremely futile, as soon as the subject is
properly understood. We know that there are not a few who treat with

1 Apologetical Relation, by Brown of Wamphray, sect, x., xi., xix. Printed 1665.

2 Written by Mr James Stirling, minister of Paisley, and first printed in 1667.

3 Written by Sir James Stuart of Goodtrees (Lord Advocate after the Revolution), and

printed in 1669. < Printed in the year 1677.

110

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indifference all questions relative to the external order and government
of the church, and disparage all contendings about these as savouring
of bigotry, and tending to draw away the minds of men from due atten¬
tion to the essential and more momentous parts of religion. The words
of the poet are always in the mouths of such persons :

“ For modes of government let fools contest,

Wbate’er is best administered is best.”

Such maxims, whether they proceed from poets or pious men, and
whether they be applied to the state or the church, are to be received
with great caution, and are often urged with the most insidious design.
If believed and acted upon according to their native import, they
would lead us to sacrifice and throw away privileges of the most valu¬
able kind, which have been acquired or transmitted at the greatest
expense. "Wlio will say that the government of Turkey or Spain
is equally good as that of Great Britain, and that there is the same
reason to expect national happiness under the former as under the latter 1
If this be the case as to political government, much more must it hold
with reference to that which is of an ecclesiastical nature. No external
order, indeed, wiU infallibly secure the advancement of real and genuine
religion ; but we are warranted, from the reason of the thing, and from
experience, to expect that the diffusion of knowledge, the preservation
and transmission of truth, and the regular and profitable dispensation
of all religious ordinances, will be more effectually provided for by one
form of ecclesiastical polity than by others, — ^not to refer here to the
determinations of Scripture, which have not left the government of the
church to be constructed according to the capricious opinions of men,
or to rest on the same general grounds with civil polity.

But this is not the view of the subject that we have chiefly in our
eye at present. What we assert is (and we make the assertion without
the slightest fear of refutation), that, in opposing Prelacy, Erastianism,
and the Indulgence, the Covenanters were standing up for the civil
rights and political liberty of their country. Prelacy in Scotland was
always combined and leagued with arbitrary power. The prelates, to
use an expression of one of themselves (Archbishop Gladstanes), were
the kinf/s creatures; they derived their power entirely from him;
they were supported by him in opposition to the inclinations of the
nation ; and they uniformly showed themselves disposed and ready to
gratify his will, and to sacrifice to it the liberties and best interests of
the people. Wliat is Erastianism? Is it not the principle which
ascribes the whole power of modelling and regulating the government
of the church to civil rulers ? Now, in Scotland this was declared to
belong, not to the whole Legislature, but to the Crown, as one of its
inherent and peculiar rights. The whole weight of this extensive
branch of authority, and of the influence arising from it, was thus
thi’own into the regal scale. By Erastianism, Prelacy was introduced,
and by means of it the absolute subserviency of the hierarchy to the

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Ill

Crown was infallibly secured. The Indulgence was merely an excre-
i scence of Erastianism, proceeding from the ecclesiastical supremacy,
and exerted in suspending the existing laws. If it was in some
instances employed in suspending the execution of laws which were
bad and oppressive, it was capable of being employed for setting aside
all those which were good. And in the succeeding reign it was em¬
ployed, in conjunction with the civil supremacy, as an engine for over¬
throwing the constitution in church and state, and for introducing
Popery and despotism.

But are these merely our inferences from the subject 1 No ; they
were the views entertained by our ancestors, and by which they were
animated in their opposition to these invasions of their ecclesiastical
constitution. We shall produce positive evidence of this. And first
with regard to Prelacy : — “ These prelates, who make an absolute sur¬
render of religion, conscience, and all sacred eoncernments, for the
gratifying, and to the arbitriment of these powers, whose creatures they
have often atheistically acknowledged themselves to be, do with the
same and greater profusion subject both laws, liberties, and the fortunes
of others, to the lust of the same powers, which they may so easily per¬
fect unto their own establishment and advancement. And this indeed
is, and hath always been, that great aggravation of our latter Prelacy,
rendering the same worse and more intolerable than the Romish hier¬
archy, which, being wholly dependent upon the Pope, another and
distinct head, and not upon the civil power, whose interests are often¬
times not only distinct, but directly opposite, it hath neither that access
nor influence to abuse princes ; whereas our prelates, deriving all their
power and being from the king’s supremacy, by endeavouring, for their
own better establishment, to render him incontrollably absolute over
and in aU things, they being otherwise mean and abject persons, having
the least, and almost no share nor interest in the commonwealth ;
and, by reason of their ill right and worse conscience in what they do
possess, being always cruelly jealous, have, by sad experience, ever
inclined the Government unto tyranny.” ^ After having confirmed this
by a reference to a variety of late acts and proceedings, this writer con-
j eludes : — “ To see a free nation, by the perfidy and insolent domineering
I of a few upstart prelates, and the violence of their -wicked and slavish
I favourites, reduced to the condition of a most insupportable and un-
; natural conquest, both was, is, and ever will be, a most just cause and
1 provocation, to all ingenuous spirits and true patriots, to undertake the
I asserting of their own liberty, upon the greatest hazard.” ^ The same
views came to be entertained by persons who had been attached to
i Episcopacy, as appears from the following extract of a letter from an
i independent individual, written at the time of the rising at Bothwell :

“For me you know how much and how often I have contended for
i I Episcopacy. But now I have considered their partial behaviour in the

1 Naphtali, pp. 174, 175, edit. 16S0. ^ Ibid., p. 17S.

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matter of Danby and the lords in the Tower, those arch enemies of our
king and government. I see them both there and here so knit to the
bias of the court, that they will rather sell their souls, and the whole
interests of the kingdom, than not swing to that side right or wrong.
I see them generally to be men altogether set upon their own profit and
advancement, and that, when once they can make their court well, they
little mind religion or the care of souls, I see they take no effectual
course for curbing of profanity, and that, if a man will but stand for
their grandeur and revenues, they easily dispense with his being other¬
wise what he will. I see that almost any scandalous fellow that will
own them, and hath but an M before his name, may have a kirk ; too
many whereof I know, and more here than with you. I have considered
Bishop Sharp as their head and last introducer, whose reward hath
been terrible in the justice of God, whatever the actors have been.
And I have considered Bishop Paterson as the tail, whose reward is, no
doubt, waiting him also, if he mend not his manners. I have not
forgot their cruel, arrogant, and bloodthirsty stopping of his majesty’s
gracious bounty, and keeping up of his remission after the business of
Pentland, which, with their torturing and hanging of the poor people,
after quarters given them in the fields by General Dalziel, as it was a
singular reward to Mm for his good services done them, so may it, to all
honest hearts, be as palpable as it is an odd example of their faith and
manners. I see the very offscourings of the earth employed by them, as
their trustees and heroes, for propagating of their conformity; and
some of them, though base all over, and despicable above all expression,
yet owned and caressed by them as brave fellows, and chief promoters
of their principles and interest ; yea, so little choice make they on this
head, whether as to profanity, popery, atheism, or what else you can
think on, that for ought that appears, as many devils out of hell would
be welcome to them to prop their Dagon of Prelacy, and be a scourge
to the fanatics.” ^ In this same manner we find such of the Presby¬
terians as opposed the Indulgence reasoning. They condemned it as an
assumption of ecclesiastical power, as an encroachment upon the
liberties of the Church, and a scheme to bring its ministers to a state of
base and servile vassalage to the court. But they also condemned the
acts of Privy Council, which granted the Indulgence as proceeding upon
a dispensing power on the part of the Crown. “The sole warrand
of the king’s letter,” says Brown of Wamphray, “cannot in law
warrand and empower them to contraveen express lawes and acts
of Parliament, and not only to disobey the injunctions of Parlia¬
ment, but in plain terms to counteract and counter-work the estab¬
lished and ratified lawes, and so to render them null and of no
effect. The very embracing of the Indulgence was, upon the matter, a
recognition of this power in the king to do, in and by his Privy Council,
in church matters, what he pleased, even though contrary to antecedent

1 Wodrow, ii., Appendix, pp. 18, 19.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LAI^DLORD.

113

acts of Parliament.” ^ On svicli grounds many worthy ministers refused
to take the benefit of the Indulgence, although the liberty which it
granted was nothing more than what they were entitled to, and exposed
themselves to great hardships and persecutions, rather than recognise a
usurped supremacy, and countenance an illegal exercise of royal autho¬
rity, — conduct which merits the highest applause, instead of the censure
which it has incurred.

These extracts, which might easily be multiplied, place the conduct
of the Covenanters in a very different point of view from that in which
it is presented in many of our histories. They throw light upon the
genuine import of the language which we find them so frequently using,
and dissipate the ridicule which has been ignorantly attached to it. In
testifying against Episcopacy and Erastianism, and in contending for
Presbytery, the Covenants, and the Reformation established in pursu¬
ance of them, they were in fact appearing in behalf of the national
rights and liberties, in opposition to tyrannical imposition, and an
arbitrary system of government, and not merely in support of certain
principles of religious belief and ecclesiastical polity. Additional proofs
of their attachment to the principles of rational liberty are at hand in
great abundance. In refusing the illegal bonds and oaths that were
imposed on them, they pleaded the laws of the land, and the rights of
freemen. * In their personal appearances at the bar — in the testimonies
which they composed in prison — and in the speeches which they
delivered on the scaflbld — we find them advancing the same plea.® In
all the declarations published by the Cameronians, from the time that
they separated from the rest of the Presbyterians till the Revolution,
whatever we may find to condemn, we cannot but admire the ardent
and invariable attachment which is expressed to political freedom.*

As a specimen of the ardent and enthusiastic love of civil liberty,
combined with zeal for the Protestant religion, which inflamed the
breasts of the Presbyterians, we cannot refrain from making the follow¬
ing quotation from a letter of a minister, exiled in Holland ; — it was
written by him in the end of 1679, upon his being informed of the
flattering reception which the Duke of York met with on his arrival in
Scotland. “ I cannot hide it from you, that I would have been less
troubled, if I had heard that he had marched down to Scotland with an
army, made up of his English, French, and Irish Papists, and all the
men of that kidney, soul, and complexion, which are associate to burn,
slay, and destroy that poor church and nation, because of their declared
detestation at his abominations and idolatry, to the erection whereof he
resolves to sacrifice the lives of all the lovers of our Lord J esus Christ
in the three kingdoms, and of the patriots of their country, who witness
that they cannot outlive the departing of the glory, nor give up the

1 History of the Indulgence, 30, 31. Print- 3 Naphtali, 308, 311. Samson’s Riddle, 27,
ed in 1678. 29, 40. Testimony by Mr John Dick, 4, 12.

3 Wodrow, vol. i., Appendix, Nos. 82, 83. ^ Informatory Vindication, pcwsijw.

114

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

interest of Christ, together with the liberty of the nation, to the lust of
so publickly declared an enemy to both ; than to have heard, that by
this very deed, we have declared our abominable baseness, in the sight
of God, angels, and men. Alas ! whither have we not caused our
shame to go ? Alas ! where is the Lord God of Elijah 1 Oh ! where
is the spirit of our noble ancestors, zealous for the Lord God of Hosts 1
— I shall not trouble you with the stories of all that horrour, hatred,
and shaking of head, wherewith this account is entertained abroad,
amongst all that are so much Christians, as to give the just preference
to religion, or so much men, as to love the liberty of their nation, — and
would rather die in the quarrel, ere they saw and suffered themselves
to be robbed of that only treasure of religion, and together with that,
to outlive the loss of their liberty — and so only to live — to breathe, as
beasts, under the yoke of antichristian bondage ; and at length breathe
out their miserable lives, under the bitterness, anguish, and agony aris¬
ing from the reproachings of their own conscience, that they had been
so much beasts as to entail slavery on their posterity — and so go to the
grave, as the most miserable captives, under the curse of the children
not yet born. Nor shall I entertain you with the account of that just
discountenance and ‘disrespect, wherewith he was entertained in the
United Provinces, where he might have presumed and promised himself
a great and predominant respect ; in so much as, all the time he was
there, the people were so incensed at him, as an enemy to pure reli¬
gion and true liberty, that his name was not so much as put in the
publick courants ; lest, if it had, both pens and tongues had taken a just
liberty and freedom to regrate his having so much countenance or
regard.

“And, by the way, what may the United Provinces think of us,
when their courants shall be filled with the stories of this solemn and
sumptuous reception, appointed for welcoming such a declared enemy
to religion and liberty ; as if he were, for his affection to both, the very
darling and delight of the nation ? Sure, they will bless themselves,
that they are not yet degenerate so far as we are ; who, in this, seem to
have forgotten we have souls, and are so much beasts, as, with the faces
of men, we can bow our neck to the yoke of bondage, and gloiy in being
so base. But it concerns us much more to think, and seriously to weigh,
what England will judge of the solemnity of this reception ; when,
from the one end of that nation to the other, their publick gazettes shall
set before their eyes, our shame, and the matter of their grief and
sorrow. What shall these true patriots,, who then withstood the court-
contrivances, while under so many disadvantages, now think of us?
What shall these nobles, who with so much greatness and grandure of
spirit, did not only own the Protestant religion (while they saw the
design discovered of destroying it), by displaying openly a banner for
truth, in face of Parliament ; but were pleased, in high, heroick free¬
dom which will make them famous to posterity, to concern themselves,

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

115

even in the preservation thereof, in Scotland, France, and Ireland, as
well as in England? I need not recite any part of that memorable
discourse, wherein the noble speaker ^ carried rather as an ambassador
of Jesus Christ, than a statesman cast in the mould of carnal court
politicians of this declining time. — I say, what judgment shall they
give of us ? ” *

The account which the author has given of the insurrection of the
Covenanters is not correct. He represents them as having “ broken out
into actual rebellion ” previous to their being attacked by Claverhouse
at Drumclog, and as having “ declared their intention to remain together
in arms, for furthering the covenanted work of reformation.” (Vol. ii.
p. 300.) No resolution of that nature, however, had been formed by them,
nor is anything of the kind expressed in their declaration published at
Rutherglen. ® For a considerable time previous to this, a number of
those who attended field preachings, had been in the practice of carry¬
ing arms, to defend themselves and their brethren against straggling
parties of soldiers who attacked the conventicles. In consequence of
the violent measures lately adopted, the number of these had increased ;
and, instead of assembling in small parties as they had formerly done,
they drew together in larger bodies, with a view to greater safety. But
still their object was merely to defend their religious assemblies, and to
prevent those who attended them from being maltreated or massacred.
It was after the recounter which they had with the corps under
Claverhouse, that they resolved to act in an offensive manner ; and the
dread of the severe revenge which the Government would take, had no
small influence in determining them to come to this resolution. * The
present rising was, therefore, similar in its origin to that of Pentland ;
and Government never discovered any trace of correspondence with
England, or of previous concert and intended insurrection, on the part
of the Covenanters.

We do not mention this circumstance because we judge it essential
to the vindication of those who, on the present occasion, took arms to
defend themselves against intolerable oppression, and to assert their
liberties. Their defence rests on more substantial grounds. It rests
on the same grounds as that of the resistance made by the Protestants
in Germany, the Netherlands, and France, who were publicly aided by
Elizabeth, James, and Charles I. If the Covenanters were chargeable
with rebellion, it is impossible to vindicate these princes and their par¬
liaments from the charge of fostering rebellion. We appeal not only
to their practice, but also to their public declarations, in which they
avowed the right of subjects to defend themselves against the oppres¬
sion and tyranny of their native sovereigns. We appeal to the lan¬
guage held by James, whose ideas of royal prerogative were sufficiently

1 The Earl of Shaftesbury, in his Speech * Mr Ward’s 'Erxytiyig'inti, or Earnest Cen¬
to the House of Lords, March 24, 1679. — tendings for the h aicn, pp. 332-334, 336.
Wodrow’s Hist., vol. ii., p. 22; Appendix, * Wodrow, ii. 44; Informatory Vindica-
p. 3. tion, p. 171. * Wodrow, ii. 47.

116

EE VIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

high, “ My reason of calling you together,” says his Majesty in a letter
to Dr Abbot, “ was to give your judgment, how far a Christian and a
Protestant king may concur to assist his neighbours to shake off their
obedience to their own sovereigns, upon the account of oppression,
tyranny, or what else you like to name it. In the late queen’s time,
this kingdom was very free in assisting the Hollanders both with arms
and advice, and none of your coat ever told me that any scrupled about
it in her reign. Upon my coming to England, you may know, it came
from some of yourselves to raise scruples about this matter ; yet I
never took any notice of these scruples, till the affairs of Spain and
Holland forced me to it. I called my clergy together to satisfy, not so
much me, as the world about us, of the justness of my owning the
Hollanders at this time. This I needed not to have done, and you have
forced me to say, I wish I had not.” ^ In his speech to the Parlia¬
ment that year, he had these words : “ A king ceases to be a king, and
degenerates into a tyrant, as soon as he leaves off to govern by law ; in
which the king’s conscience may speak to him as the poor woman to
Philip of Macedon, — either govern by law, or cease to be a king,” ^
And again, in his speech, anno 1609, “ A king governing in a settled
kingdome, ceaseth to be a king, and degenerateth into a tyrant, so soon
as he leaveth to rule by his lawes, much more when he beginneth to
invade his subjects persones, rights, and liberties, to set up an arbitrary
Ijower, impose unlawfull taxes, raise forces, and make warre upon his
subjects, whom he should protect and rule in peace ; to pillage, plunder,
waste, and spoile his kingdom ; imprison, murder, and destroy his
people in a hostile manner, to cap ti vat them to his pleasure.” We can
appeal to divines and dignitaries 'of the Church of England, who have
sanctioned the principles of resistance on which our ancestors acted —
to Jewel, Hooker, Bilson, Bedel, Burnet, Hoadly, and King. But this
is unnecessary, as the whole Convocation, the Church of England re¬
presentative, in Elizabeth’s reign, publicly acknowledged it “ glorious
to assist subjects in their resistance to their sovereigns, and their endea¬
vours to rid themselves of their tyranny and oppressions.” ® And in
1628, when Charles I. resolved to assist the French Protestants, both
Houses of Parliament petitioned his Majesty to appoint a fast ; and in
the office of devotion composed for the occasion, the nation was directed
to pray for all those “who, here or elsewhere, were fighting God’s
Battles, and defending his altars.” In fine, their conduct was vindi¬
cated at the Revolution, when the Parliament of Scotland, “ in prose¬
cution of the claim of right," rescinded all the forfeitures and fines
passed against those who had been in arms at Pentland and Bothwell,
and pronounced them void and nuliykom the beginning." After men¬
tioning a vast number of names, the act proceeds, “Likeas, their
Majesties, and. three Estates, rehabilitate, reintegrate, and restore so
many of the said persons as are living, and the memory of them that

1 The Bishop of Saruni’s Speech on the Im- ® Hoadly’s Measures of Submission to the

peachmeut of Dr Sacheverel. Ibid. Civil Magistrate, p. 149.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

117

are deceast, their heirs, successors, and posterity, to their goods, fame,
and worldly honour.” i

But though the unconcerted nature of the insurrection at Bothwell is
not necessary to vindicate its lawfulness, yet it is of great consequence,
as tending to account for the divisions which arose among the insur¬
gents, and led to the complete failure of their enterprise. Had they
taken up arms from previous concert, a plan would have been formed ;
proper leaders would have been chosen ; and the grounds of their under¬
taking would have been agreed on and digested. As it was, the first
measures were taken on the spur of the occasion ] those who had been
called to take the lead in the sudden affair at Drumclog, and who were
probably elated with the unexpected victory that they had gained, con¬
sidered themselves as entitled to retain their command, although some of
them do not appear to have been the best qualified for it ; and they pro¬
ceeded to state the grounds of the quarrel according to their own views,
without waiting the advice of their friends, who soon joined them from
other parts of the country. Upon the arrival of the latter, a difference of
opinion arose, which, in spite of all attempts to accommodate it, produced
hot altercations, and issued in the most fatal disunion. The majority of
theotficerswho commanded atDrumclog insisted, that the authority of the
king should not be acknowleged, and that the acceptance of the Indul¬
gence should be condemned in the manifesto which it had been resolved
to publish. Both of these propositions were resisted by those who joined
them, and were admitted to their council before the battle of Bothwell.

The account which the author of the Tales has given of this dissension
is very far from being correct. After describing the officers of the
covenanting army assembled in council in the darkest colours of his
pencil, he proceeds to say, —

“ With them were mingled their preachers, men who had spurned at the indul¬
gence offered by Government, and preferred assembling their flocks in the wilder¬
ness, to worshipping in temples built by human hands, if their doing the latter
could be construed to admit any right, on the part of their rulers, to interfere with
the supremacy of the Kirk. The other class of counsellors were such gentlemen
of small fortune, and substantial farmers, as a sense of intolerable oppression had
induced to take arms, and join the insurgents. These also had their clergymen
with them, who, having many of them taken advantage of the Indulgence, were
prepared to resist the measures of the more violent, who proposed a declaration in
which they should give testimony against the warrants and instructions for indul¬
gence, as sinful and unlawful acts.”

* Acts, Pari. I., William and Mai-y, July
4, 1690. Among the reasons for passing this
act, the first is as follows : “ Because it is
evident by His Majesty’s declaration, while
Prince of Orange, for the kingdom of Scot¬
land, that the oppressions and violent per¬
secutions which these persons suffered, as
well after as before their forfeiture, are
there set down amongst the principal mo¬
tives that induced His M.ajesty to undertake
for the relief of this kingdom.” To the ob¬
jection, that “ to restore persons who were
forfeited for rising in arms upon necessary

standing laws, and clear and evident proba¬
tions, were to lay down the worst of prepara¬
tions to encourage rebellious for the future,”
it is honestly and bluntly replied, ‘‘ Can any
man allege that the rescinding of forfeitures
for these former insurrections can be a bad
preparative to encourage insurrections for
the future ; but, at the same time, he must
think that the late great Revolution may
likewise be drawn into a far more mis¬
chievous consequence, a thought which
certainly all honest men must abhor.” —
Wodrow, ii , App. No. 159.

118

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Now, the truth, we are persuaded, will turn out to be, that there was
not one minister who had “ taken advantage of the Indulgence ” in the
camp of the Covenanters, from the battle of Drumclog down to that
of Bothwell Bridge, In the royal proclamation against the rebels, four¬
teen ministers are mentioned, and Wilson gives the names of eighteen,
as present. 1 Is the author able to point out one indulged minister
among all these '? We are convinced he is not. Yet, as if the matter
had been quite unquestionable, he goes on to describe the contest
between the indulged and non-indulged ministers with great minuteness,
and in a manner which, we doubt not, he thought, and still thinks, infin¬
itely humorous. “Macbriar, Kettledrummle, and other teachers of
the wanderers, being at the very springtide of polemical discussion with
Peter Poundtext, the indulged pastor of Milnwood’s parish, who, it
seems, had e’en girded himself with a broadsword.” The author could
not be wrong ; for “ it was the din of this conflict, maintained chiefly
between Poundtext and Kettledrummle, which saluted Morton’s ears
upon approaching the cottage ; ’’—and “both the divines were well
gifted with words and lungs, and each fierce, ardent, and intolerant, in
defence of his own doctrine, prompt in the recollection of texts where¬
with they battered each other without mercy, and the noise of the
debate betwixt them fell little short of that which might have attended
an actual bodily conflict.” This is fine ; but there is something still
more finished behind, — a description which proves our author to be a
most accurate observer of nature, and which does not yield to the best
comparisons in Homer. Burley, who, with all his fierceness, had a
great deal more sense and moderation than the preachers, separated the
combatants. “ But although Kettledrummle and Poundtext were thus
for the time silenced, they continued to eye each other like two dogs,
who, having been separated by the authority of their masters while
fighting, have retreated, each beneath the chair of his owner, still
watching each other’s motions, and indicating, by occasional growls, by
the erected bristles of the back and ears, and by the red glance of the
eye, that their discord is unappeased, and that they only wait the first
opportunity afforded by any general movement or commotion in the
company, to fly once more at each other’s throats.” We “opine” that
the time spent by the author in marking the attitudes, and looks, and
growls, and bristles of his two dogs, and in committing them to memory
and paper, might have been better employed in examining more
exactly his historical authorities, printed and manuscript ; unless
some of our readers should be of opinion, that he would have been
still better employed if, instead of composing Tales, he had occupied his
time in writing a cunomachia to supply the loss of the hatrachomachia
of the Grecian bard.

We object seriously to this part of the author’s representation, as

1 Wodrow, ii., App., No. 30. Wilson’s Relation of the Battle of Bothwell Bridge, 13, 15,
edit. Glasgow, 1797.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

119

conveying a false idea of the state of matters, as if the indulged minis¬
ters had actually joined in this enterprise. We have no doubt that
many of them, if not the whole, wished it snccess, and that they might
have taken part in it, provided it had been conducted to their mind.
Some of them sent from Edinburgh the draught of a declaration of
I which they approved. It was conveyed by Mr Dunlop, afterwards
I Principal of the University of Glasgow, but not then a preacher, who
was refused admission to the council of war ; and none of his consti-
I tuents ever made their appearance in the camp.^ How then, it may be
asked, did the Indulgence become the subject of dispute '? We shall
explain this in a few words. The question agitated was not, whether
the Indulgence was lawful, but whether the acceptance of it should be
expressly condemned in the proclamation to be made by those who were
in arms. This was opposed as improper and inexpedient, because it
would hinder many from joining them who were cordial friends to
Presbytery, and it was proposed that the determination of this point
should be reserved to a free General Assembly.^ At the head of this
opposition was Mr Welsh, who, instead of being an indulged minister,
had been a zealous field-preacher, and intercommuned for many years. »
It was natural for those of his opinion to endeavour, in the course
of reasoning on the subject, to moderate the severe censures which
some of their brethren passed on the conduct of the indulged ministers,
and to suggest such circumstances as tended to extenuate their compli¬
ance with it, from which the high party took occasion to accuse them
of approving of the Indulgence, and in their narratives of the contro¬
versy have designed them the Erastian party. Such is the language
employed in Wilson’s Relation, and in the manuscript written by Russel,
one of the persons engaged in the assassination of the archbishop, by
whose representations the author of the Tales has, we perceive, been
. chiefiy guided. Both Russel and Wilson are also anxious to represent

* the ministers. King and Kid, as going along vdth the high party ; but

j this does not agree with several circumstances mentioned in their own
narratives, and it is flatly contradicted by the solemn declarations of
these two ministers, from which it appears that they expressly avowed
the king’s authority, and that, though they disapproved of the Indul¬
gence, they had recommended pacific measures.^

How, then, does the case stand ? Of eighteen ministers wlio were in
the camp, the high proposals were supported by two only, Cargill and
Douglas ; for Cameron, who afterwards gave his name to the party, was
not then in the country. And they were opposed by sixteen. To speak
the sentiments of the two, the author of the Tales has introduced tAree
preachers, Macbriar, Kettledrummle, and Mucklewrath ; and to express
those of the sixteen, he has brought forward — one, the Reverend Peter

1 Wodrow, ii. 59. lie never approved of the Indulgence. — Pre-

2 Ibid., pp. 55, 57. face to Collection of Sermons, p. 5.

3 Howie, while he condemns the part < See the authorities adduced in a preced-
which Welsh acted at Both well, allows that ing part of this Review, pp. 71, 72.

120

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Poundtext, the indulged pastor of Milnwood’s parish ! Such is the
equal and impartial representation of our author ! And in this manner
has he thrown a dark shade over the proceedings of the Covenanters,
and aggravated the charge of violence and folly which he brings against
them, by imputing to the greater part what was in reality confined to a
very few of their number.

Truth requires us to state farther, that the violent measures of dis¬
owning the royal authority, and excluding from the army all w'ho had
accepted of the Indulgence, appear to have originated with, and were
chiefly urged, not by the preachers, but by certain private gentlemen in
the camp. This appears from the accounts of both parties. Even
Cargill and Douglas were pushed on to extreme courses, both on this
and on subsequent occasions, which there is reason to think they would
not have followed if they had been left to their own unbiassed judg¬
ment. We formerly signified that we considered Robert Hamilton as
the chief person who urged these extremities. His rank as a gentle¬
man (he was the brother of Sir William Hamilton of Preston) had pro¬
cured his being called to the command of the small body of armed men
who defeated Claverhouse at Drumclog. The success which attended
that encounter, and the courage which he displayed in it, gave him
great influence among those who had fought under him, and, without
any election, he retained the place of general.^ He was destitute of
military experience ; and, although honest and zealous in the cause, his
views were contracted, and his temper uncomplying and overbearing.
We find him and some of his fellow-officers uniformly opposing all the
moderate measures which were proposed.

We now proceed to notice the charges brought against the Cove-,
nanters on the head of sanguinary principles and practices. The state¬
ments which we have made will enable our readers to form a judgment
of these. Though we should allow them to be accurately stated, and
free from exaggeration, still they are applicable only to a small part of
the Covenanters. The assassination of Archbishop Sharp affords one of
the most common topics of declamation. But the author of the Tales
has himself allowed, that “ the greater part of the Presbyterians dis¬
owned the deed, as a crime highly culpable, although they admitted
that the archbishop’s punishment had by no means exceeded his deserts.”
(Vol. iii. p. 161.) We must beware of thinking that all those who, when
interrogated by military men or judges, refused to pronounce the bishop’s
death murder, justified or approved of his assassination. Such illegal
and arbitrary questions were resisted by them as an infringement of their
liberties, inconsistent with the principles of justice, and obliging them
judicially to disclose their private sentiments, and to pronounce sentence
on the conduct of others.^ Even Morton refused to answer the question

1 Mr Laing has strangely conceived that Hamilton was “a preacher," and, proceed¬
ing upon this misconception, he talks of the “ ghostly commanders ” of the covenanting
party. — History, vol. ii. p. 98.

“ See an account of a curious conversation which Fraser of Brae had with Charles II. —
Wodrow, U. 28S.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

121

when it was first put to him by Sergeant Bothwell ; and in his conver¬
sation with Burley on this subject, he says, — “But it is not mine to
judge you. I have not forgotten that the way was opened to the former
liberation of Scotland, by an action of violence which no man can
justify, — the slaughter of Gumming by the hand of Robert Bruce ; and,
therefore, condemning this action, as I do and must, I am not unwilling
to suppose that you have motives vindicating it in your eye, though not
to mine, or to those of sober reason.” (Vol. iii. p. 170.) The circum¬
stance of the murderers of the archbishop having joined the insur¬
gents, has been urged as reflecting discredit on the cause. But it is
a curious fact, that, down to the battle of Bothwell, it was not gene¬
rally known that they were in the camp ; and Mr King, one of the
ministers present, was ignorant that Burley and Rathillet were acces¬
sory to that crime.^ This shows how much we should be on our guard
against substituting presumptions and probabilities for proof in histo¬
rical matters.

Morton expresses his fears of a departure" from the ordinary laws of
war, by refusing to give quarter to the enemy. There was some ground
for this ; and we shall candidly state the facts from a letter of Hamil¬
ton, the person mainly implicated in the charge. “ As for that accusa¬
tion they bring against me,” says he, “ of killing that poor man (as they
call him) at Drumclog : — I being called to command that day, gave out
the word that no quarter should be given ; and returning from pursuing
Claverhouse, one or two of these fellows were standing in the midst of
a company of our friends, and some were debating for quarters, others
against it. None could blame me to decide the controversy, and I bless
the Lord for it to this day. There were five more that without my
knowledge got quarters, who were brought to me after we were a mile
from the place, as having got quarters, which I reckoned among the first
steppings aside.” ^ Judging from this account, Hamilton alone was
responsible for this step. He takes the whole blame, or rather, as he
viewed it, the whole praise to himself. It does not appear that he con¬
sulted with a single individual before giving the word ; his men testified
an aversion to act upon it ; and in spite of his command and his ex¬
ample, the lives of prisoners were preserved. It should also be noticed,
that Claverhouse is said to have issued the same orders before the
battle commenced.®

After the defeat at Bothwell, those called Cameronians or Society
'' People, were completely separated from the rest of the Presbyterians,
V both indulged and non-indulged, in religious communion, and in politi-
i cal managements. We shall advert briefly to such of their proceedings
I as have been deemed most unjustifiable. In the “ Sanquhar Declara-
; tion,” published June 22, 1680, they, “ as the representatives of the true
i' Presbyterian kirk and covenanted nation of Scotland,” did “disown
[

[ 1 Wodrow, vol. ii. pp. 43, 86.

[ 2 Howie’s Faithful Contendings, p. 201.

3 Wilson’s Relation, p. 8.

122

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Charles Stewart as having any right, title to, or interest in the said
crown of Scotland,” which he had forfeited “ by his perjury and usurpa¬
tion in church matters and tyranny in matters civil and they ^d
“ declare war ” against him as a “ tyrant and usurper,” and against all
the abettors of his t3uanny.^ About the same time a paper was found
on one of them, usually called the “ Queensferry Paper,” which was
published by Government, and occasioned a great outcry against the
whole party. It contained, among other articles, a resolution against
monarchical government, as “ aptest to degenerate into tyranny but it
was not subscribed, and was never owned by the Society.* The “ Lan¬
ark Declaration,” published January 12, 1682, was intended to state
more at large the grounds of that of Sanquhar. This contains a strik¬
ing description of the oppressions of the Government, and a forcible
appeal to the public on the necessity which the sufferers were laid under
to adopt the measure which they had taken.®

But the most singular paper, and that which made the greatest noise,
was published by them in October 1684, under the name of “The Apo-
logetick Declaration and Admonitory Vindication anent Intelligencers
and Informers.” After mentioning their renunciation of the authority
of Charles, and their declaration of war against him and his accomplices,
it runs in the following terms : “ That therein our mind may be under¬
stood, and for preventing farther mistakes anent our purposes, we do
hereby jointly and unanimously testifie and declare, that, as we utterly
detest and abhor that hellish principle of killing all who differ in judg¬
ment or persuasion from us, it having no bottom upon the Word of
God or right reason ; so we look upon it as a duty binding upon us
to publish openly unto the world, that, for as much as we are firmly
and really purposed not to injure or offend any whomsoever, but to
pursue the ends of our covenants, in standing to the defence of our
glorious work of reformation, and of our own lives ; yet (we say). We
do hereby declare unto all, that whosoever stretch forth their hands
against us, while we are maintaining the cause and interest of Christ
against his enemies, in defence of our covenanted religion, by shedding
our blood actuallie, either by authoritative commanding, such as bloody
councillors (bloodie, we say, intimating clearlie by this, and the other
adjective epithets, an open distinction betwixt the cruel and blood-
thirstie, and the more sober and moderate), especially that, so called,
justiciary, general of forces, adjutants, captains, lieutenants, and all in
civil and military powers, who make it their work to embrue their
hands in our blood; or by obeying such commands, such as bloodie
militia men, malitious troopers, soldiers, and dragoons ; likeways such
gentlemen and commons, who, through wickedness and ill-will, ride
and run with the foresaid persons to lay search for us ; or who deliver

1 Wodrow, vol. ii., Appendix, No. 47.

2 Ibid., vol. ii.. Appendix, No. 46.

3 Informatory Vindication, p. 176.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LAJSTDLORD.

123

up any of us into their hands to the spilling of our blood ; by inticing
morally, or stirring up enemies to the taking away of our lives ; such
as designedly and purposely advise, counsell, and incourage them to
proceed against us to our utmost extirpation, by informing against us
wickedly, and wittingly, such as viperous and malicious bishops and
curats, and all such sort of intelligencers, who lay out themselves to the
effusion of our blood, together with all such as, in obedience to the ene¬
mies their commands, at the sight of us raise the hue and cry after us ;
yea, and against all such, as compearing before the adversaries their
courts upon their demand, delate us, and any who befriend us, to their
and our extream hazard and suffering : We say, all and every one of
such shall be reputed by us, enemies to God and the covenanted work
of the Reformation, and punished as such according to our power and
the degree of their offence, chiefly, if they shall continue, after the publi¬
cation of this our declaration, obstinately and habitually, with malice,
to proceed against us any of the foresaid ways.” — “ We are sorry at our
very hearts that any of you should chuse such courses, either with
bloody Doeg to shed our blood, or with the flattering Ziphites to inform
persecutors where we are to be found. So we say again, we desire you
to take warning of the hazard that ye incur by following such courses ;
for the sinless necessity of self-preservation, accompanied with holy zeal
for Christ’s reigning in our land, and suppressing of profanity, will move
us not to let you pass unpunished. Call to your remembrance, — All
that is in peril is not lost, and all that is delayed is not forgiven.
Therefore, expect to be dealt with as ye deal with us, so far as our power
can reach ; not because we are actuated by a sinful spirit of revenge for
private and personal injuries, but mainly, because, by our fall, reforma¬
tion suffers damage,” (Sic.’-

It is impossible to read these extracts without strong emotions of a
mingled kind. The first feeling that must rise in every ingenuous
breast, is indignation at the Government, which, by its tyrannical and
cruel conduct, had driven a sober and religious people to such ex¬
tremities. We cannot but condemn the step taken by the sufferers, as
calculated, notwithstanding all their qualifications, and in spite of all
the precautions they might use, to open a door to lawless bloodshed,
and to give encouragement to assassination. At the same time, it is
impossible to condemn them with great severity, when we reflect that
they were cast out of the protection of law, driven out of the pale of
society, and hunted like wild beasts in the woods and on the mountains
to which they had fled for shelter. It is impossible not to recognise the
honesty of their intentions, to perceive the reluctance with which they
took this delicate step, and to be convinced that they had no desire to
defile their hands with the blood even of their persecutors, but aimed
principally at impressing their minds with a wholesome terror. This
end was in some measure gained : informers were terrified, and the

1 luformatory Viudication, pp. 186-188, 159-160.

124

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

persecution slackened for some time after the publication.! The only
instances in which it is alleged, so far as we recollect, that it led to
murder, were those of two soldiers at Swine-Abbay, and of the curate
of Carsphairn, The last of these was publicly disowned and condemned
by the Society People.^

Finding that several expressions in their declarations were misrepre¬
sented, and that others were expressed in a dubious or exceptionable
form, the general meeting of the Society People published their “ Infor-
matory Vindication.” In this document, although there are positions
advanced which are not strictly consistent, nor are defensible upon the
common principles of Presbyterians, yet a spirit of candour and moder¬
ation is displayed. “ If in anything,” say the authors of it, “ we have,
in the manner of managing affairs in reference to the public cause,
through ignorance or imprudence, jointly miscarried, having good de¬
signs, and the thing not attended with obstinacy, our weakness and
insufficiency, in the abounding confusions of these preceding times (our
faithful guides and men of understanding by death and otherwise being
removed), should be compassionately looked upon, and tenderly handled.”
They state that they were not to be understood as claiming, in the San¬
quhar and Lanark Declarations, the character of formal representatives
of the nation ; and that, in disowning Charles II., they did not proceed
judicially and authoritatively, but merely declared their own private
judgment, refusing to own him as standing in a magistratical relation
to them. Their declaration of martial war they explained as directed
solely against the tyrant, and those under his authority, who bore arms
against them ; and as to such as did “ any way strengthen, side with, or
acknowledge the said tyrant, or any other, in the like tyranny and
usurpation, civil or ecclesiastical,” they declared that they would oppose
them, not with arms, but by their “ profession, practice, and testimony.”
They add, “We positively disown, as horrid murder, the killing of any,
because of a different persuasion or opinion from us.”® About the same
period, they abolished the oatk of secresy which they had for some time
used in their societies.*

Let it be remembered that the proceedings which we have detailed
took place subsequently to the battle of Bothwell, when the feelings of
the Covenanters had been irritated and inflamed by a continued series
of shocking and brutal barbarities. At the period referred to in the
Tale of Old Mortality, their minds were in a very different state. But
we shall grant that the author was at liberty, in forming his likenesses,
to take into view the character of the objects of persecution, after, as
well as before, the affair of BothweU. We appeal, then, to every im¬
partial and intelligent person, if there was anything in the conduct of
the Society People to warrant the representations which he has given.

1 Wodrow, ii. 430. Howie, Faithful Contendings, p. 156.

2 Wodrow, ii. 467. Renovation of Covenants at Lesmahago, p. 61.

3 Informatory Vindication, p. 63-68. * Howie, ut supra, p. 104.'

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

125

Where are the ruffians and the madmen whom Burley and Mucklewrath
resemble 1 Where is the transaction that bears the most distant resem¬
blance to the horrid scene at Drumshinnel 1 Where are the principles,
that, by the help of the utmost ingenuity, can be tortured into such a
construction, as to favour that atrocious attempt ? And what person of
candour and of judgment can allege, that those who “ positively dis¬
owned, as horrid murder, the killing of any because of a dift'erent
persuasion and opinion from them,” would have conspired to take
away the life of such a person as Morton 1 We have read of a painter,
known by the appellation of “ Hellish Brueghell,” who accustomed him¬
self so much to painting witches, imps, and devils, that he sometimes
made but little difference between his human and his infernal figures.
The best apology we can make for our author is, that having been much
habituated to the describing of moss-troopers, misanthropes, gypsies, and
other beings of a savage or unnatural kind, he has been insensibly led to
impart the qualities, so familiar to his mind, to the principal characters
in the present work.

We are persuaded we shall give pleasure to our readers, by laying
before them the following manly and liberal reflections of a living author
on the transactions which we have been considering. “ In the midst
of the fiery furnace of persecution,” says the eloquent Dr Charters, in
a sermon now published a second time, “ men appeared assuming the
high character of witnesses for God, and maintaining it in the face of
danger and death. Though few in number, like the gleaning of grapes
after the vintage, and a few berries on the top of the outermost bough,
they lifted up the fallen standard of religious liberty, and generously
devoted themselves. They would swear no oaths, subscribe no bonds,
take no test, nor yield to any imposition on conscience. They would
not pray for the king, because that might be constructed as owning a
title which, in their judgment, he had forfeited ; and they resolved,
whatever it might cost, to be ingenuous and open, decisive and unem¬
barrassed, both in word and in deed. ‘They published a seditious
declaration, renouncing allegiance to Charles Stewaid, whom they called,
as they for their parts had indeed some reason to esteem him, a tyrant.’ ^
They testified against all the arbitrary persecuting acts of Charles, and
published acts of their own, disowning the king, excluding the Duke of
York, and declaring war in defence of their religion and of their lives.
The avowal of disaffection was the signal of death, and, by means of
mercenary spies and traitors, many of them were seized and executed.
They denounced vengeance on the spies, admonishing both the bloody
Doegs and flattering Ziphites to remember, ‘ All that is in peril is not
lost, and all that is delayed is not forgiven.’ The coward race were
appalled by a threatening that came from men without falsehood, and
without fear. Their bold example attracted congenial spirits, and, like
the Israelites in Egypt, the more they were afflicted, the more they grew

1 Hume’s History.

126

EEVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

and multiplied. They formed into societies, and settled the ground and
nature of their testimony. A love of liberty they considered as the
national character, which it was their duty to maintain and transmit,
A defensive war against tyranny they justified by the law of nature,
and by precepts and doctrines in the Bible. To those who objected that
their testimony was unexampled, they answered, the tyranny of the
times is also without example : former examples arose from the state
of things which produced them ; the present singular state of things
demands a new example to after ages. Tyrants formerly used force,
but they now demand an explicit owning of arbitrary power ; the limit¬
ations of kingly power is a question which they compel us to decide ;
and our example may instruct and animate posterity. Such were the
principles of those whom Wodrow calls Society People, from the
religious societies into which they were formed, and who, from the
names of two of their leaders, were likewise called Cameronians and
Cargillites. If, in some instances, they run to extremes, Solomon’s
saying will be remembered, ‘ Surely oppression maketh a wise man
mad.’ Their standard on the mountains of Scotland indicated to the
vigilant eye of William that the nation was ripening for a change.
They expressed what others thought, uttering the indignation and the
groans of a spirited and oppressed people. They investigated and
taught under the guidance of feeling, the reciprocal obligations of kings
and subjects, the duty of self-defence, and of resisting tyrants, the
generous principle of assisting the oppressed, or, in their language,
helping the Lord against the mighty. These subjects, which have been
investigated by philosophers in the closet, and adorned with eloquence
in the senate, were then illustrated by men of feeling in the field.
Wliile Lord Russell, and Sidney, and other enlightened patriots in Eng¬
land, were plotting against Charles, from a conviction that his right was
forfeited, the Cameronians in Scotland, under the same conviction, had
the courage to declare war against him. Both the plotters and the
warriors fell; but their blood watered the plant of renown, and succeed¬
ing ages have eaten the pleasant fruit.” ^

There are in the Tale of Old Mortality, beside what we have con¬
sidered, several things which are deserving of reprehension. But we
chose to enter into a particular examination of a few of its misstate¬
ments, rather than indulge in reflections upon the whole, which must
necessarily have been general, and, consequently, less satisfactory.
The charges of indulging in fraud and rapine, of hypocritically con¬
cealing mercenary and selfish designs under the cloak of zeal for
religion, and of employing a jeSuitical and wretched casuistry to vindi¬
cate such practices, which are laid in such a manner as to apply to the
party at large, we deem so devoid of foundation in history, and so con¬
trary to the known chafacter of the Covenanters, as to be utterly
unworthy of serious refutation. The allegation that they were of the
* Charters’ Sermons, p. 273-277, edit. 1816.

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LANDLORD,

127

same persecuting spirit as their adversaries, is, we are convinced, equally
unfounded ; and we intended to have shown at some length, that their
conduct after the Revolution was, upon the whole, highly commendable,
considering the sufferings they had endured ; and that the charges of
intolerance and persecution brought against some of their proceedings
are founded, in a great degree, upon ignorance of the circumstances in
which they were placed, and of the measures which they opposed. But
this discussion we must waive, as it is high time to bring the review to
a close.

We flatter ourselves that we have satisfactorily established the two
leading positions that we advanced at the beginning of the review — the
gross partiality which the author has shown to the persecutors of the
Presbyterians, and the injustice which he has done to the objects of
persecution. We have produced undeniable proofs of the former, in
his withholding a just view of the severities and cruelties which they
perpetrated, softening them in the representations which he has given,
and exhibiting the character of some of the chief oppressors in such a
light as to recommend them to the admiration of his readers. We have
examined his representation of the Presbyterians or Covenanters, and
have found it, in numerous instances, to be unfair, false, and grossly
exaggerated. Instead of being the ignorant, foolish, and violent fanatics
which he has held them out to be, we have shown that information was
extensively diffused among them ; that they were a sober and religious
people ; that their contendings and sufferings were directed to the
support of the kindred cause of religion and liberty ; and that the
instances of extravagance and violence really committed, were confined
to a few, and extorted by grievous and insufi'erable oppression. We
have also shown that the work is disfigured with profaneness, and that
the author has used freedoms with religion, and the sacred language of
the Scriptures, unjustifiable in any book, but altogether inexcusable in
one that is intended for popular amusement. These faults we have ex¬
posed with freedom, and sometimes with feelings of indignation, but,
we trust, without passion or irritation, and without the slightest wish
to lower the talents or the fame of the author, farther than was unavoid¬
able in doing justice to the cause which we were bound to advocate, and
to the memory of the men who suffered in its defence. We look on the
work which we have reviewed as calculated to produce mischievous
effects, by circulating erroneous views of the history of our country, and
by instilling bad principles into the minds of the ignorant and unwary.
The fictitious form in which it is composed, we consider as serving to
aggravate, instead of extenuating the offence. To sober statement and
argumentative discussion upon any period of our history, or on the
merits of those who acted a part in it, from whatever party these may
proceed, we have no objection. But it appears to us that there is some¬
thing extremely presumptuous and assuming in the very attempt to
select the characters and proceedings described in this Tale as a subject

128

REVIEW OF TALES OF MY LAFTDLORD.

for ridicule and burlesque ; as if, in the opinion of sensible men of all
parties, they were completely indefensible, and as if the truth of the facts
which the author has brought forward, and the view which he has taken
of them, were already placed beyond all reasonable doubt or contradic¬
tion. We trust, however, that the good sense of our countrymen, the
information which they possess, and the regard which they still cherish
to the cause of religion and freedom, will counteract the poison ; and
we are not without hopes that this attempt may ultimately benefit the
cause which it threatened to injure, by exciting more general attention
to the subject, and by inducing persons to inquire more accurately
into the facts of one of the most interesting portions of our national
history.

TWO DISCOURSES

THE UNITY OF THE CHHECH

HER DIVISIONS, AND THEIR REMOVAL

TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED

A SHOBT VIEW OF THE PLAN OF RELIGIOUS REFORMATION
ORIGINALLY ADOPTED IN THE SECESSION

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TWO DISCOURSES

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

DISCOURSE I.

" They shall he one %n mine hand.” — Ezek. xxxvii. 19.

The reduction of the Jews from the Babylonian captivity was one of
the most signal deliverances wrought in behalf of the ancient people of
God. It was not, indeed, immediately affected by miraculous power
and the exhibition of visible signs and wonders, like the eduction of
their fathers from the house of bondage ; but it was attended with the
most convincing proofs of extraordinary providential interposition.
And such was the magnitude of the mercy itself, the change on the
national character which accompanied it, and the connection in which
it stood with the ulterior plans of Heaven, that it so far threw into
shade, and took the place of that deliverance which had hitherto been
commemorated in the sacred invocations of every pious and patriotic
Israelite. “ Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no
more be said. The Lord liveth, that brought up the children of Israel out
of the land of Egypt ; but. The Lord liveth that brought up the children
of Israel from the land of the north, and from all the lands whither he
had driven them.”^

This joyful event had been announced by the prophet Isaiah, who
named Cyrus as the prince who should “say to Jerusalem, Thou shalt
be built, and to the temple. Thy foundation shall be laid.” The period
at which it would happen was defined in the prophecies of Jeremiah,
which contain a magnificent description of the overthrow of Babylon.
The predictions of Ezekiel, while they confirm those wliich had been
previously given out, add to them facts which are deeply interesting and

1 Jer. xvi. 14, 15 ; comp. Isa. xliii. 18, 19.

132

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

permanently instructive. In the preceding chapter we are told that
God would not restore Israel to their own land, but also produce a
change on their hearts and conduct. The whole house of Israel were
polluted with guilt, and especially with the sin of idolatry. Neither
mercies nor judgments had hitherto been sufficient to divorce and sepa¬
rate them from their idols. But their captivity and release should be
sanctified and blessed for producing a real and lasting reformation.
They should be made the objects of pardoning mercy, and the subjects
of renewing grace. “ Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you, and
ye shall be clean : from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will I
cleanse you. A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I
put within you ; and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh,
and I wiU give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within
you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judg¬
ments, and do tliem.”i

Two objections of great force would present themselves to the minds
of the Jews when told that their captivity should be turned back ; and
these are removed in the chapter before us. Crushed under the irresis¬
tible power of their conquerors, trodden under foot, scattered, exani-
mated, they could only sigh out, “ Our hope is lost ; we are cut off for
our part !” To enable him to meet this objection, Ezekiel was “ carried
in the spirit ” into the midst of a valley full of bones, bleached and
dry ; and while he prophesied to them by divine direction, “ Behold,
the bones came together, bone to his bone,” and on a sudden the appear¬
ance of the valley was changed from that of a field of slaughter into
the site of a grand military review. Those whose “ bones were scattered
at the grave’s mouth ” stood up not only in the attitude of living men,
but “ every man in his own order,” and all together united and mar¬
shalled — “an exceeding great army.” The prophet then addressed
the captives in God’s name : “ Behold, 0 my people, I will open your
graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, — and shall put
my Spirit in you, and ye shall live.”

This emblematical vision went far to solve the second objection, which
is completely removed in the words of our text. He who believes in
the resurrection of a dead people will not despair of the cure of a
divided people. He who has seen “ the bones come together, bone to
his bone,” is prepared to witness the congregating of living men, every
one to his fellow. The second objection was founded on the dissension
which had subsisted among the people of Israel since the death of
Solomon, when ten tribes were violently rent from the royal house of
David, and formed themselves into a separate and independent kingdom.
What was at first a political division soon produced an ecclesiastical
schism, and led to the establishment and practice of a worship at Dan
and Bethel, different from, and opposite to, the worship of God at Jeru¬
salem. This dissension between the families of Judah and Israel stiff

1 Ezek. xxxvi. 25—27.

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

133

remained; and was there no reason to fear, if they were restored to
their own land, that, like “ a root bearing wormwood and gall,” it would
again “spring up and trouble them?” Against the fears of this, the
prophet was instructed to comfort the “prisoners of hope,” first by
exliibitiug a sign, and then by explaining its meaning. In the instruc¬
tions which God has been pleased to convey to men, sublimity is
blended with condescension : the emblem formerly presented to the
prophet was grand ; the sign which he now showed to the people was
familiar. He was directed to take two sticks, or, as the word also
signifies, tkin plates of wood, so fashioned as that, when brought into
contact, they should unite into one piece ; and having inscribed on them
severally the distinctive names of the two kingdoms of Judah and
Israel, he was to join them in his hand before the people. To their
inquiry, “ Show us what thou meanest by these,” he was to answer ;
“ Thus saith the Lord ; Behold, I will take the stick of Joseph, and
put it with the stick of Judah, and they shall be one in mine hand ; —
they shall be no more two nations, neither shall they be divided into
two kingdoms any more at all.” They were to become one nation in
respect not only of civil polity, but also of religious communion and
privileges. For it is added : “ I will set my sanctuary in the midst of
them for evermore : — my tabernacle also shall be with them ; yea, I
will be their God, and they shall be my people.”

This promise was fulfilled on the restoration from the captivity, when
the inveterate schism between Judah and Israel was perfectly healed.
Some interpreters regard it as a prediction of what was to happen in
New Testament times ; and we can scarcely doubt that the blessings
promised, in all their extent, could only be enjoyed during this period :
For it follows, “ David,” a name often given to Messiah by the pro¬
phets, “ my servant shall be King over them, and they shall have one
shepherd.” And again : “ My servant David shall be their prince for
ever.” But without resting on this, we mean to take the primary appli¬
cation of the passage as a foundation for the subsequent discourse.
There is a wonderful analogy in the divine dispensations towards the
church at ditt'erent periods. The duties, the temptations, the sins, the
punishments, and the deliverances of the people of God in former times,
are all instructive and admonitory. The Spirit of wisdom has selected
for insertion in the inspired records, with more or less detail, those
facts which were calculated to be most generally and parmanently use¬
ful. In the New Testament the name of Babylon, and the language
and imagery employed by the prophets in describing the power and the
overthrow of that idolatrous and persecuting empire, are transferred to
the reign and ruin of the Antichristian kingdom ; and upon the same
principle, are not we warranted to apply, for “ doctrine, for reproof, for
correction, and instruction in righteousness,” the description of a con¬
temporary mercy bestowed upon the church of God, which was inti¬
mately connected with her internal and most vital interests ?

134

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

On a text of this kind there is a danger of tracing analogies that are
more fanciful and ingenious than real and solid, and of rearing general
principles on the basis of accidental circumstances. We shall endeavour
to guard against this, by keeping in eye the analogy of faith, and the lights
thrown on the subject of our text from other parts of Scripture. The
subject of discourse is the Divisions of the Church, and the remedy of
tliis mournful malady. I propose not to treat it at large, but only to
lay before you a few observations, which, through the blessing of the
divine Spirit, may be useful for establishing your faith, and directing
your exercise. The subject is not only of great extent ; it is also of
very delicate discussion. When we are beside the waters of strife, 0
how needful the perfect illumination — the mystic Urim and Thummim
which was upon Levi, whom God “ proved at Massah, and strove with
at the waters of Meribah !” May we have our ears attent to “the
word behind us,” the Daughter of a Voice, ^ saying, “ This is the way,
when we turn to the right hand, and when we turn to the left and may
you have wisdom to “ consider what we say,” and to “ judge of your
ownselves what is right.”

For the sake of order I shall arrange what I have to say under the
following heads : —

I. Of the Unity of the Church.

11. Of its Divisions.

III. Of the Removal of these, and the Restoration of its violated
Unity.

I. I begin with the consideration of the Unity of the Church. For
ages previous to the announcing of the oracle in our text, Judah and
Israel had been divided into two nations in respect of civil concerns
and of religious faith and practice ; but God at first made them one.
The Church of Christ has been divided for a still longer period, and to
a still greater degree ; but “ from the beginning it was not so.” Origi¬
nally it was one, and it ought still to be one, according to divine will
and institution.

The Unity of the Church is implied in the most general view we can
take of its nature, as a society instituted for religious purposes. True
religion is essentially one, even as God, its object, is one. It, as its
name imports, hinds its professors to one another, as well as to the sole
and common object of their supreme homage and service. It is indeed
the great bond of human society in all its various and graduated rela¬
tions ; preserving the unity and peace of families, neighbourhoods, and
nations, strengthening the subordinate ties by which they are connected,
and preventing men from becoming a prey to each other, “ as the fishes

1 The.Tewish writers say that God revealed his mind during the standing of the taber¬
nacle by Urim and Thummim; during the first temple by the Prophets ; and during the
second by Bath-kol, or the Daughter of a Voice. This last, they suppose, is referred to in
Isaiah xxx. 21.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

135

of the sea, and as the creeping things that have no ruler.” Hence, from
the violation of the bonds of humanity, consanguinity, and mutual faith,
so general among his countrymen, a prophet infers that they must have
previously renounced the relation in which they stood to tlieir common
Parent : “ Have we not all one father 1 hath not one God created us ?
why do we deal treacherously every man against his brother, by pro¬
faning the covenant of our fathers'?”^ If such is the remote and (if I
may so call it) extrinsic influence of religion, what must its direct
operation be within the pale of its own sacred enclosure 1
Consider the church again in its more speciflc form, as a society con¬
sisting of men called out of the world lying in wickedness, and it will
be still more evident that oneness is its attribute. It is founded on
supeniatural revelation — on the promise of a Saviour, and a divinely
instituted worship. By their profession of faith in the former, and their
observance of the latter, “ the sons of God” were united in the patri¬
archal age. When an extensive system of ceremonial and sacriflcial
service, intended to preflgure the redemption to be procured by “ the
seed of the woman” and “ of Abraham,” as well as to preserve the know¬
ledge of the one true God in the world, was superinduced on the
original revelation, the nation of Israel was embodied into a church or
sacred confederation, to be a peculiar people unto God, a holy nation, a
kingdom of priests, God delights to speak of that people, as well as of
himself, in the singular number : “ Hear, 0 Israel, the Lord thy God is
one Lord. — Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God ; him shalt thou serve, and
to him shalt thou cleave, and swear by his name.”^ “ I will say, It is
my people, and they shall say. The Lord is my God.”® The stranger
who embraced the true religion, in “joining liimself to the Lord,” did
at the same time “ cleave to the house of Jacob,” and “ surname himself
by the name of Israel.”^ “ One law and one manner, and one ordinance
shall be for you of the congregation, and also for the stranger that
sojourneth with you : as ye are, so shall the stranger be before the
Lord.”® By the death of Christ, “the middle wall of partition — the
law of commandments contained in ordinances,” which was at the same
time a token of the enmity between God and sinners, and an occasion
of distance and alienation between Jews and Gentiles, was abolished;
and believing Jews and Gentiles were reconciled to God and united
into one body. But by being diffused the church was not divided ;
she did not lose her unity by becoming ecumenical, and being no longer
confined to a single nation. When she received a command to “ enlarge
the place of her tent, and spread forth the curtains of her habitations,”
to receive the converts who came under her shelter, she was at the
same time instructed to “ lengthen her cords and strengthen her stakes.” *
Divine wisdom made such changes on the external form of her worship

1 Mai. ii. 10.

" Deut. vi. 4. X. 20.
3 Zech. xiii. 1.

* Isa. Ivi. 3. Comp. chap. xix. 1 ; xliv. 5.
5 Numb. XV. 15, 16.

* Isa. liv. 9.

136

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH.

and communion as were adapted to the extended and continually en¬
larging ground which was now allotted to her. There was no longer
to be a sacred house to serve as a visible centre of unity ; nor a
material altar on which alone it was lawful to sacrifice ; nor a single
family whose right it was exclusively to minister in the temple and at
the altar. But still there remained visible bonds and badges of unity
among the members of the Christian church. “ There is one body, and
one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling ; one Lord,
one faith, one baptism ; one God and Father of all, who is above all,
and through all, and in you all.”^ “For we being many are one
bread, and one body : for we are all partakers of that one bread.” ^

The unity of the ehureh, in profession, worship, and holy walking,
was strikingly exemplified in the primitive age of Christianity. Those
who “ gladly received the word were baptised and added to the church,”
consisting of the apostles and other disciples ; and they “ continued
steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of
bread, and in prayers.” And, after their number was still farther aug¬
mented by the addition of many thousands, “ the multitude of them
that believed were of one heart and of one soul.”® Tlfis union was not
confined to those who lived together, but all of them in every place
formed one sacred “ brotherhood.” How solemn, earnest, and reiterated
are the apostolical injunctions to preserve this unity, and to avoid
everything that has a tendency to violate or mar it ! “ Now I beseech
you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak
the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you ; but that ye
be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judg¬
ment.”^ “ I, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy
of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness,
with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love ; endeavouring to
keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”® “ If there be any
consolation in Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the
Spirit, if any bowels and mercies, fulfil ye my joy, that ye be like-
minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind : — that
ye stand fast in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith
of the Gospel.”® “ Now the God of patience and consolation grant you
to be like-minded one toward another according to Christ Jesus; that
ye may with one mind and one mouth glorify God, even the Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ.”^

It wiU assist us in forming correct notions on this subject, if we attend
to certain distinctions which are commonly made in treating it. We
usually speak of the church of the Old and of the JVew Testament, or
the Jewish and Christian churches. But the difference between these
is only in degree, not specifical or essential. The change made on her
external form and institutions, at the coming of Christ, though great,

1 Eph. iv. 4 — 6. ^ 1 Cor. i. 10. 6 Philip, i. 27 ; ii. 1, 2.

2 1 Cor. X. 17. 5 Eph. iv. 1 — 3. ^ Eom. xv. 5, 6.

8 Acts ii. 41, 42 ; iv. 32.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

137

did not destroy the oneness of the church ; just as our personal identity
is not aftected by the changes which we undergo, in body and mind,
while we pass from childhood to maturity. She remained the same,
as the heir does after reaching majority, although no longer under tutors
and governors ; and as the olive tree does after a great part of its
natural branches have been broken off, and others, taken from a wild
tree, have been grafted in their room.^ — Again, it is usual to distinguish
between the invisible and visible church. The former consists of such
only as are true believers and real saints ; the latter of all who make a
public profession of the true religion. But this does not imply that
there are two churches, but only that the same society is considered in
a different point of view. Nor is it a division of the whole into its
parts. It does not mean, that one part of the church is visible and the
another invisible ; but it means, that all who make a profession of the
faith compose the church considered as visible, while those among them
who are endued with true faith constitute the church considered as in¬
visible. The former includes the latter ; and it is sometimes spoken of
in Scripture under the one and sometimes under the other view. But
whether the church of Cluist be viewed in its internal or external state,
unity is still its attribute. All genuine saints are invisibly and vitally
united to Christ, and to one another, by the indissoluble bond of the
Spirit and of faith ; and in virtue of this it is that they increase in love
and holiness, and are at last made “ perfect in one.” Some of the par¬
ticulars specified in the passages of Scripture quoted above refer more
immediately to this invisible union ; but others of them are as evidently
descriptive of the character and privileges of a visible society, actuated
by the spirit of true religion, and subsisting in a state of due subjection
to the word and laws of Christ. Again, the church may be considered
either as catholic or as particular. This distinction is not inconsistent
with its unity any more than the former. The visible church considered
as catholic or universal, consists of all those throughout the world who
profess the true religion, together with their children. The variety of
particular churches, when regularly constituted, does not imply any
separation from, or opposition to, one another. The cathohc church
subsists in, and is composed of, the several particular churches, of larger
or less extent, in the different parts of the Christian world •, and none
of these are to be excluded from it as long as they retain the true and
distinctive characters of such a society as the Word of God describes it
to be. That these particular churches should be sometimes found dis¬
united, and in many respects opposed to one another, is an accidental
circumstance arising from their imperfect state and corruption. So far
as this is the case catholic unity is marred ; yet this does not prevent
them from having still some common points of union, and a common
relation to the universal body — the one great diffusive flock, family, and
kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

» Gal. iv. 1—3, 8, 9. Rom. xi. 17—24.

138

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

Christianity, being intended for general diffusion through the world,
must in its nature be adapted to all countries and people. It would be
extreme weakness to suppose, that its being embraced by people of
different garbs, colour, and language, of different manners and customs,
barbarous or civilised, or formed into distinct civil communities, and
living under different forms of government, produces different religions,
or a diversity of churches, provided their faith and practice are intrin¬
sically the same. Their formularies of faith and religious service may
be differently expressed or arranged, and they may vary from one
another in different circumstances in external administrations, which
are not, and could not be, prescribed by positive rule in Scripture, and
which (to use a much abused word) may be called circumstantial,
without marring that unity of faith and that fellowship which belongs
to different Christian societies, as parts of the same general body. Nor
is simple ignorance in some and knowledge in others, with respect to
some things which belong to the Christian system, or greater and less
degrees of advancement in different churches, or iu the members of the
same church, necessarily inconsistent with religious unity and peace.
But there must be no denial or restriction of the supreme authority by
which everything in religion is ruled ; no open and allowed hostility to
truth and godliness ; and no such opposition of sentiments, or con¬
trariety of practices, as may endanger the faith, or destroy the consti¬
tution and edification of churches, or as may imply, in different
churches, or in different parts of the same church, a condemnation of
one another.

As there were synagogues among the Jews, so there must be
assemblies among Christians for divine worship and instruction, and for
the exercise of discipline. The unity of the church requires that we
join in communion with our fellow Christians, in the place where pro¬
vidence has cast our lot, provided they are found walking by the com¬
mon rule of Christianity, and as long as no sinful bar is laid in the
way of such a conjunction. And our statedly holding communion with
a particular church is the ordinary way of manifesting our communion
with the catholic church. But as individual Christians are not at liberty
to walk and act singly, so neither are particular congregations at liberty
to act as independent and disjointed societies. For the ordinary perfor¬
mance of religious duties, and the ordinary management of their own
internal affairs, they may be said to be complete churches, and furnished
with complete powers. But extraordinary cases will arise among them¬
selves from time to time ; and there are, besides, duties, dangers, and
interests, which do not properly or exclusively concern one congrega¬
tion, or a few congregations, and which require the joint cognisance and
co-operation of many. This is taught by the light of nature itself, it
flows from the oneness of the church of Christ, and is clearly exempli¬
fied in the New Testament. Being similar parts of the same general
body, it is the duty of particular churches to draw together, to combine,

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

139

and to co-operate, according as this may be practicable, and as provi¬
dence may open a door for it, with a view to mutual help and the promo¬
tion of the common cause in which they are all engaged. They may
agree in explicitly approving of the same articles of faith and rules of
discipline, and in yielding a scriptural subjection to a common authority
in the Lord. Such confederations, on the Presbyterian plan, are fully
warranted by the Word of God, and are most congenial to the spirit of
Christianity, which is catholic and diffusive ; they may include all the
churches in the same neighbourhood, in the same nation, or even in
many nations ; and by means of them that unity which belongs essen¬
tially to the whole church of Christ is formally recognised, and its bonds
are strengthened and drawn more close.

Is it then asked. What is the bond of unity in the church ? the reply
may be given in one word— The true religion. Eeligion as communi¬
cated by God to men in the Bible, is its grand comprehensive bond.
This specificates and distinguishes it from the unity which belongs to
other societies. The sacred Scriptures not only exhibit the model after
which the church is to be constructed ; they also furnish that which
gives it substance, and stability, and order, and proportion, and unity.
It is “built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus
Christ himself being the chief corner-stone ; in whom all the building,
fitly framed together, groweth unto a holy temple in the Lord. ” ^ But,
before leaving this part of the subject, it may be proper to specify more
particularly some of the scriptural bonds of unity in the church.

1. This unity consists in her having one Head and Lord. This is
Jesus Christ, whom the “one God and Father of all” has appointed
over his house. “ Holding the Head, from which all the body by joints
and bands having nourishment ministered, and knit together, increaseth
with the increase of God.”^ All real believers are internally joined to
the Lord, and derive their spiritual life and growth from Him ; and in
like manner must Christians, in their associated capacity, be in professed
subjection to Him, in his divine mediatorial authority, as the one uni¬
versal Pastor, and sole Head of government. To admit a temporal head
of the church, whether pope or king ; to call any man master in religion ;
or to enlist ourselves under the banners of any human leader, is to sin
against the first precept of Christian unity.

2. The unity of the faith. “ There is one body,” because there is
“ one faith.” A system of faith or of revealed truth, as well as of duties,
has in every age formed an essential and important part of true religion.
By embracing this the church is distinguished from other societies, and
it belongs to her faithfully to confess and hold it forth to the world. An
owning of the whole faith is implied in her reception of the Scriptures ;
she is bound to obey the calls of providence in explicitly confessing and
contending for particular articles of it ; and there is no article of divine
truth that may not at one time or another become the object of this duty,

1 Eph. ii. 20, 21. 2 Col. ii. 19.

140

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH,

and consequently a test of her fidelity. Hence, she is called “ the city of
truth,” as well as “the habitation of righteousness;” her gates are open
to receive “ the righteous nation that keepeth the truth ;” and truth is
inscribed on her columns, and on the banners which float on her walls
and bulwarks. When this is not the case, Christian societies are
destitute of the unity of the church of Christ, by whatever ties they
may be kept together.

3. “ One baptism,” and fellowship in the same acts of worship.
Baptism is a solemn badge of Christian profession, as well as a sign of
the grace and privileges of the New Covenant. According to the proper
and original design of this ordinance, and the profession accompanying
it, all the baptised are made one, and a foundation is laid for their
mutual fellowship in all acts of worship. The institutions of the Gospel
were intended as a bond of union among Christians, and by the joint
celebration of them their communion is maintained and expressed.
“ By one Spirit we are all baptised into one body.” “ And being many
we are one bread, and one body ; for we are all partakers of that one
bread,” in the sacramental communion.^ It is not necessary to this
unity that Christians should all meet for worship in the same place.
This is physically impossible ; nor are we to conceive of church com¬
munion as local. It consists in their celebrating the same holy ordi¬
nances — in their performing acts of worship the same in kind, wherever
they assemble, and in their being disposed and ready to embrace every
proper occurring opportunity to join with all “ those who in every place
call on the name of Jesus Christ, the Lord, both theirs and ours.”
Thus it was, as we have seen, in the primitive church ; and thus it
would still be, if catholic unity were preserved, and if the institutions
of Christ, along with the faith to which they relate, were everywhere
preserved pure and entire.

4. Unity in respect of external government and discipline. Christ,
the Head of the church, “gave pastors and teachers — helps, governments,
for the work of the ministry, for the gathering together of the saints,
for the edifying of the body, till they all come in the unity of the faith,
and knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man.” ^ The exercise of
authority and government is necessary as a bond of union and a basis
of stability, in all societies. By means of it the largest communities,
and even many nations, may be made to coalesce and become one, under
the same political government. And can any good reason be assigned
for supposing that the church of Christ should be destitute of this bond,
or that it should not be necessary to her union as a visible society 1 If
every family has its economy and discipline, if every kingdom has its
form of government and laws, shall we suppose that the most perfect
of all societies, “the house of the living God,” and “ the kingdom of
heaven,” should be left by her divine Head without that which so
evidently tends to the maintenance of her faith, the purity and regu-

1 1 Cor. X. 17 ; xii. 13. * Eph. iv. 11 — 13; 1 Cor. xii. 28.

THE UNITY OP THE CHURCH.

141

larity of her administrations, and the order, subordination, unity, and
peace which ought to reign among all her members ? Whatever is
necessary to her government, and the preserving of her order and
purity, either is expressly enjoined in Scripture, or may be deduced, by
native inference, from the general rules and the particular examples
wliich are recorded in it.

6. The bond of mutual charity and peace. This is the silken cord
which ought to be thrown over all the others, and which makes
Christian union complete. Hence, charity, or love, is called by an
apostle a perfect bond : “ Above all these things put on charity, which
is the bond of perfectness.” ^ A vague and erratic charity, which soars
above fixed principles of belief, looks down with neglect on external
ordinances, and spurns the restraint of ordinary rules, whether it seeks
to include all Christians within its catholic embrace, or confines itself to
those of a favourite class, is a very feeble and precarious bond of union.
True Christian charity is the daughter of truth, and fixes on her
objects “ for the truth’s sake which dwelleth in them.” On the other
hand, a bare and cold agreement in the articles of a common faith, and
external uniformity in the acts of worship and discipline, will not pre¬
serve the unity of the church. To “be perfectly joined together,”
Christians must be of “ the same mind,” or affection, as well as of “ the
same judgment.” It is by “ speaking the truth in love ” that they
“ grow up in all things to their Head, even Christ.” Love must cement
the union which faith has formed ; and it is by the joint influence of
both that Christians “ cleave to the Lord,” and to one another in Him,
“ with purpose of heart.” Without mutual affection, and its kindred
graces, mutual consideration, and condescension, and compassion, for¬
giveness will not be extended towards injuries, forbearance will not be
exercised towards unavoidable infirmities, offences will arise, alienations
will be produced, and “the brotherly covenant will not be remembered.”
Hence the frequency and the fervour with which the cultivation of a
loving and peaceful temper is enjoined upon Christians. “Put on
therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies,
kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering ; forbearing one
another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against
any ; even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.” ^ “ Let all bitterness, and
wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking, be put away from
you, with all malice ; and be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted,
forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”®
“ Let nothing be done through strife or vain-glory ; but in lowliness of
mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every
man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.” *
“ Finally, brethren, — Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live
in peace ; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.” ®

1 Col. iii. 14. 2 Col. ill. 12, 13. = Eph. iv. 31, 32.

4 Philip, ih 3, 4. ® 2 Cor. xiii. 11.

142

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

II. I now go on to speak of the Divisions by which the unity of the
church is marred. Judah and Israel, originally one, and bound together
by the most sacred ties, were rent asunder, and formed into two inde¬
pendent nations, divided in worship, as well as in secular and political
interests. And this was followed by the usual effects of such breaches
— rivalship, hatred, and mutual hostilities. “ Ephraim envied Judah,
and Judah vexed Ephraim.” ^ The same thing has happened to the
Christian church.

1. God has permitted the unity of his church to be broken in
different ways. It has been marred and interrupted when her members
continued to meet together, and to keep up the external forms of fellow¬
ship as one society. This is the case, when, instead of glorifying God
with one mouth, and striving together for the faith of the Gospel, they
entertain jarring and discordant sentiments about the articles of religion,
and one is eager to destroy what another is building ; when they do not
walk by the same rule nor mind the same things ; when they fall into
factions and parties, and when contention and every evil work— hatred,
variance, jealousies, heartburnings, and evil surmisings, rage among
them. The spirit of division had begun to produce these bitter and
pernicious fruits in the church at Corinth, even in apostolical times.
“ It hath been declared unto me of you, my brethren, that there are
contentions among you. Every one of you saith, I am of Paul ; and I
of Apollos ; and I of Cephas ; and I of Christ. Is Christ divided ? was
Paul crucified for you? or were ye baptised in the name of Paul?”*
“ First of all, when ye come together in the church, I hear that there be
divisions among you, and I partly believe it.” — “I fear, lest when I
come, I shall not find you such as I would, — lest there be debates,
envyings, wraths, strifes, backbitings, whisperings, swellings, tumults.”^

Disorders and animosities of this kind may abate and gradually settle
into a calm, without the restoration of true peace. When a church no
longer holds the Head, but suffers the supreme authority of Christ in
his spiritual kingdom to be invaded or shared by any creature ; when
the liberties and immunities which he has conferred on her, as an inde¬
pendent society, are usurped or surrendered ; when her faith is subverted,
her worship corrupted by human inventions, or her order and discipline
overthrown ; in such a case the bonds of scriptural unity are dissolved.
Resistance may be overcome by the despotical exercise of usurped
authority, opposition may die away under the paralysing influence of an
irreligious indifference and neutrality ; but the union which is brought
about by such means is an ungodly confederacy, and the tranquillity
which is enjoyed by such a society is like the calm which binds the
stagnant and deleterious waters of the Dead Sea.

At other times, the dissensions which arise in the church prevail and
grow to such a height as to produce an open rupture, and the forma¬
tion of separate and opposing communions. Even those who live in

1 Isaiah, xi. 13. ^ 1 Cor. i. 11, 12, 13. 3 i Cor. xi. 18 ; 2 Cor. xii. 20.

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

143

the same place, and who had formerly “ taken sweet counsel together,
and walked to the house of God in company,” no longer join in the
same acts of public and social worship. Altar is reared against altar,
as if they did not serve the same God. One house can no longer con¬
tain them. One name can no longer serve them ; but they must be dis¬
tinguished from one another, as well as from the world. This has
hitherto been the state of the Christian church almost in every age. In
reviewing her history she appears not as one great army marshalled
under the banner of “ the Captain of salvation,” but as “ the company
of two armies,” yea, often of many armies, with banners bearing differ¬
ent and opposite inscriptions, and engaged in hostilities with one
another as well as with the common enemy of the church of the living
God. Thus, in ancient times, not to mention various lesser sects, the
church was divided into Greeks and Latins ; in more modern times,
Protestants have been divided into Lutherans and Calvinists, and in our
own land into Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and Independents, with a
great variety of other denominations, which it would be painful and
impossible to enumerate.

While we survey these mournful facts, my brethren, we must not
overlook the hand of God ; and it is proper to advert to this before
proceeding to inquire into the immediate and proper sources of the evil.
The malignant spirit could not sow the seeds of dissension and divi¬
sion, nor coidd they grow up and spread, without the permission of the
Lord of the vineyard. He has wise and holy ends for permitting them ;
and among others we ought to be deeply affected with this, that he
sends them as a punishment to a people called by his name. Do any
ask. How comes it about that those who are joined by so many sacred
bonds, should be so broken and divided in judgment and affection 1
The answer is : “The anger of the Lord hath divided them.” ^ Yes;
when they fall from their first love to the Gospel, receive the grace of
God in vain, do not bring forth fruit unto holiness under his ordinances,
become conformed to the world, and have little more than a name to
live — when they become vain of their numbers and their strength, and
convert a holy union into a criminal combination. He permits the
demon of discord to enter among them, “ confounds their language,
that so they cannot understand one another’s speech,” — “ divides them
in Jacob and scatters them in Israel.” “It is my desire,” says he, “that
I should chastise them, when they shaU bind themselves in their two
furrows alluding to the practice of the husbandman who corrects a
' refractory steer when caught in the situation described in the metaphor
, which is employed. The conduct of God toward his ancient people is
' described under a beautiful allegory in the prophecies of Zechariah.
When he saw his flock a prey to their possessors, and sold by their own
pitiless shepherds, he exclaimed, “ I will feed the flock of slaughter,
even you, 0 poor of the flock. And I took unto me two staves ; the

1 Lam. iv. 16. * Hos. x. 10.

144

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH.

one I called Beauty, and the other I called Bands; and I fed the
flock.” But they requited him ungratefully ; their soul abhored him,
and his soul loathed them. “ Then said I, I will not feed you : that
that dieth, let it die ; and that that is to be cut off, let it be cut off ; and
let the rest eat every one tlie flesh of another. And I took my staff,
even Beauty, and cut it asunder, that I might break my covenant which
I had made with all the people.” And a little after : “ Then I cut
asunder mine other staff, even Bands, that I might break the brother¬
hood between Judah and Israel.”^ The grand schism by which ten
tribes were rent from the house of David was expressly denounced as a
punishment for the sin of Solomon and his people in forsaking God.2
And when the flame, instead of being extinguished, has fresh fuel added to
it, and continues to spread and burn from age to age with increasing fury,
it is a proof that God’s “ anger is not turned away, but his hand is
stretched out still,” as it was when “ Manasseh devoured Ephraim, and
Ephraim Manasseh, and they together Judah.” ^

2. Divisions in the church are owing to various causes. In permitting
them God overrules the instrumentality of men who are actuated by
different motives and principles, for which they are entirely responsible.
It is incumbent on all Christians to “ endeavour to keep the unity of
the Spirit in the bond of peace.” The violation of it must be traced to
a sinful cause. When dissensions arise in the church of God, and it is
divided into parties, whatever the occasion or matter of variance be,
there must be guilt somewhere. The rules of truth, peace, and holy
fellowship, have been transgressed ; and those who are justly charge¬
able with tliis cannot be blameless. Amid the keen contests and oppos¬
ing pretensions of parties, it may often be difficult to determine where
the blame lies ; but it must attach to one side or another, and perhaps
to both. It will not always attach to the minority, or those who may
be forced to withdraw from the assemblies and external communion of
particular churches : the major and prevailing party may be the real
schismatics, though not the formal separatists. This, however, we
know, that Scripture has affixed a mark of disapprobation on those
who “ cause divisions and offences contrary to the doctrine wliich we
have received.” ^

The dissensions which prevail in the church, like those which distract
and break the peace of other societies, may be traced in general to the
workings of human corruption. “Whence come wars and fightings
among you 1 Come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your
members V’ ® They spring from the ignorance, error, unbelief, prejudice,
pride, passion, selfishness, carnality, which are predominant in the
minds of some of the members of the church, and are but partially
subdued and mortified in the minds of the best. To specify all the
ways in which these principles operate to the disturbance of the peace
of the church is impracticable.

1 Zech. xi. 7 — 14. 2 j Kings, xi. 11 ; xii. 16. s iga. jx. 21.

* Bom. xvi. 17. ® James, iv. 1.

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145

They lead to the adoption and patronage of errors, by which the
purity of the faith and institutions of Christ is depraved. This in
itself, as we have seen, loosens the scriptural bonds of union. But as
the faithful consider themselves bound to resist everything of this kind,
the propagation of errors cannot fail to excite contention and strife in
the bosom of the church. Some of these errors strike against the
principal and leading articles of the faith, and are in their very nature
damnable and destructive to the souls of those who embrace them. Others
consist of uncertain, vain, and unprofitable opinions, the offspring of an
unsanctified fancy or of the love of novelty, calculated to unsettle the
minds of the hearers, and inducing perverse disputings and endless
questions. Others again strike more immediately against the unity and
peace of the church — loose and extravagant notions respecting private
judgment, conscience, and Christian liberty, by which these rights,
invaluable when duly understood and regulated, are explained and
stated in such a way as to convert all religion into a matter of indivi¬
dual belief and concern, to render union and co-operation among its
professors impracticable or precarious, and to contradict the important
truth, that “ the powers which God hath ordained, and the liberty
which Christ hath purchased, are not intended by God to destroy, but
mutually to uphold and preserve one another.” This is the case, when
the duty of Christians at large is explained in such a way as to
encroach on the office of a regular Gospel ministry ; when the lawful¬
ness of confessions of human composure, as public declarations of the
faith of a church, and their usefulness as tests of orthodoxy, though
conformable in their matter to Scripture, and necessary in times of
abounding error among persons professing Christianity, are impugned ;
when ecclesiastical office-bearers are stripped of that authority which
is competent to them, and necessary for preserving order and subordi¬
nation, and the supreme power of finally determining every cause is
lodged with the whole people in every worshipping congregation ;
when the combination of particular congregations, as parts of an
extended and organised body, with a duly limited submission to a com¬
mon judicatoiy for taking cognisance of differences which may arise in
any part of that body, and judging of what concerns the good of the
whole, is opposed ; and, in fine, to pass over other tenets of a similar
description which are rampant in the present age, when the lawfulness
of the settlement of a system of religion in a nation, by the joint con¬
currence of ecclesiastical and civil authority, and with the general con¬
sent of the people, is contradicted and opposed. Sectarianism, as the
class of opinions referred to is usually called, is inimical to the unity of
the church, as it has a direct tendency to foster diversity of sentiment
and practice in religion, and to multiply schisms. If the common
sense and experience of mankind did not check its operation, and pre¬
vent its keenest abettors from acting rigidly and consistently on their

1 Westm. Conf. of Faith, chap. xx. § i.

146

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

own principles, it would lead to the dissolution of all religious society,
or at best to the rearing of a Babel, the foundations of which would be
laid on its first-born, and the gates of it set up on its youngest and
most favourite sou. To these may be added rigid notions respecting
ecclesiastical communion, incompatible with the imperfect state of the
church in this world, whether these manifest themselves in requiring
that all Christians should reach the same degree of the scale in their
acquaintance with divine things, or in withdrawing from the communion
of a church on account of particular acts of maladministration, or
because discipline may not, in some instances, be exercised on offenders
with faithfulness, or with all that severity which they may think pro¬
portioned to the nature of the offence ; which was the error charged on
the ancient Novatians and Donatists.

Divisions in the church may often be traced to a spirit of vanity,
pride, and ambition. Than this, nothing can be more repugnant to the
spirit of Christianity, or prejudicial to ecclesiastical peace. It is often
found combined with a spirit of error, and has formed a very prominent
feature in the character of heresiarchs and the founders of sects. It
displays itself sometimes in an overweening fondness for their own
private opinions, and at other times in the love of pre-eminence, or an
impatience of contradiction, by which they are instigated to the adop¬
tion of factious and divisive courses. Others are impelled to divide
the church by the base desire of gratifying their avarice, and procuring
a livelihood from the disciples whom they draw after them. Such are
the “unruly and vain talkers and deceivers” described by Paul, “who
subvert whole houses, teaching things which they ought not, for filthy
lucre’s sake,” and those whom another apostle charges “ with beguiling
unstable souls, — following the way of Balaam the son of Bosor, who
loved the wages of unrighteousness.” ^

Tyranny and unreasonable imposition has been one fruitful source of
division in the church. To gratify the lust of dominion, those calling
themselves clergy have assumed a power of decreeing articles of faith
and imposing forms of worship, contrary or additional to those enjoined
in Scripture; have, like the Pharisees, “bound heavy burdens and
grievous to be borne, and laid them on men’s shoulders, while they
themselves would not move them with one of their fingers ; ” and have
enforced the rigid observance of these commandments of men, by all
the force and terrors which they possessed or could command. Like
the shepherds of ancient Israel, they have scattered the flock by ruling
over it “with force and with cruelty.” Forgetting the nature and
limits of the power with which they have been intrusted, and their own
complaints against papal and prelatical usurpations, Protestant and
Presbyterian courts have acted “ as lords over God’s heritage,” trampled
on the sacred rights of conscience, stripped the Christian people of
liberties which their divine Master had conferred on them, and which

1 Tit. i. 11 ; 2 Pet. ii. 14, 15.

THE UNITY OP THE CHURCH,

147

they were in the undisputed possession of for several centuries after his
ascension, intruded hirelings on them for overseers, and driven those
who resisted their arbitrary measures to seek the food of their souls in
separate communions. The policy of statesmen has often combined
with the ambition of churchmen in measures which have tended to
divide the church. Jeroboam erected his schismatical worship at Dan
and Bethel to keep himself and his family on the throne of Israel ; for,
said he, “ if this people go up to do sacrifice in the house of the Lord at
Jerusalem, then shall the heart of this people turn again unto their lord,
even unto Rehoboam king of Judah, and they shall kill me, and go again
to Rehoboam king of Judah.”* The support which civil rulers have
given to corrupt systems of religion and to oppressive administrations
in the church, may very frequently be traced to this origin.

While the church has been frequently divided by a spirit of unwarrant¬
able and arbitrary impositions, so, on the other hand, the same effect has
been sometimes produced by aversion to the strictness of ecclesiastical
communion, and impatience of that submission which is fully warranted
by the Word of God. When a church has been constituted conformably
to the Scripture pattern, makes a faithful confession of the truth, and
maintains good order and discipline agreeably to the laws of Christ, a
divisive spirit is evinced by those who factiously exclaim against its
severity, enter into schemes, open or covert, for relaxing its bonds, or
form themselves into another society connected by looser and more
general ties ; whether this be done to obtain greater latitude to them¬
selves, or with the view of uniting persons of opposite religious senti¬
ments and practices in one general and catholic communion. This
follows from the doctrine already laid down respecting the true bonds
of ecclesiastical unity. In like manner the peace of the church may be
broken by the insubordination and turbulence of the Christian people,
refusing subjection to those pastors who are regularly set over them, and
who act within the due limits of their authority, and setting up the
ancient cry, “ All the congregation are holy, every one of them.” In this
case the event often remarkably verifies the prediction of the apostle :
“ The time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine ; but
after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having
itching ears ; and they shall turn away their ears from the truth to fables.” ^

3. Divisions in the church sometimes become inveterate, and it is a
work of extreme difficulty to heal them. It is easy to divide, but not
so easy to unite. A child may break or take to pieces an instrument
which it will baffle the most skilful to put together and repair. If
Rehoboam had listened to the advice of “ the old men that stood before
Solomon his father,” he might have preserved his kingdom entire ; but
all their wisdom and authority could not cure the schism which had
been caused by his following the rash and foolish counsel of “ the young
men who were grown up with him.”

1 1 Kings, xii. 27.

2 2 Tim. iv. 3, 4.

148

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

Attempts to reunite must encounter the resistance of those corrupt
principles and passions which led to division. The force of these is
sometimes greatly increased by indulgence, and parties become more
and more alienated from one another by mutual injuries and recrimina¬
tions ; for “ the beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water
If time has served to allay the heat and fierceness of controversy, and
to smooth down the harshness and asperities of personal animosity, it •
has perhaps contributed to widen the breach in another way. It has
added to the original grounds of difference and separation. Parties at
variance are inclined to remove to a distance from each other. They
are apt not only to magnify the real point in dispute, but also to create
or discover new ones, with the view of vindicating their separation, and
enlarging the charges which they bring against their opponents. The
adoption, too, of one error, and the defence of one sinful practice, leads
to the adoption and defence of another, and that of a third ; so that
when an individual or a society has turned from the right way, every
step they take carries them farther astray, and removes them to a
greater distance from those who have been enabled to keep the path
of truth and duty. The consequence is, on either of these suppositions,
that, when proposals of accommodation come to be made, and a treaty
of reunion is set on foot, the original cause of the breach forms perhaps
the smallest matter of difference between the parties, and instead of one
point, twenty may require to be disposed of and adjusted in the pro¬
gress of the negotiations. This was strikingly verified in the attempts
made in the seventeenth century to reconcile the Lutheran and Oalvin-
istic churches. If the law of Patronage had been abrogated soon after
its imposition, the peace of the Church of Scotland might have been pre¬
served, and many of those dissensions and separations which have since
occurred would have been prevented ; but who that knows anything
of the state of matters will say, that the adoption of such a measure at
this late period, however desirable on many accounts, and whatever
good results it would lead to in the issue, would put an end to our
present divisions, or even unite all those who are the friends of evan¬
gelical doctrine and presbyterian principles 1 — Sometimes, indeed,
matters take a different direction. Two parties, after separating and
pursuing for some time opposite courses, receive a new direction from
the common impulse of the spirit of the age, and the prevailing current
of religious sentiment and feeling, by means of which they are made
gradually to approximate, and at last to meet at a point very remote
from that from which both of them set out. In this case, if they were
right before they parted, they must now be wrong. When defection
from the purity of religion has become general, and indifference about
truth abounds, such coalescences are easily brought about. If political
considerations had not intervened, it would have been no difficult
matter to have joined Judah and Israel in religious fellowslnp during

I Prov. xvii. 14.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

149

the reign of Ahaz. It is upon a principle of the same kind, I am
afraid, that we must account for the union which has lately been
elfected in some parts of the Continent between the two great bodies
of Protestants.

It is particularly difficult to heal the divisions which subsist among
those who are intermingled and live together in the same country and
vicinity. If distance of place, by preventing intercourse, keeps Chris¬
tians in ignorance of one anotlier’s sentiments and characters, and
fosters misapprehensions and groundless prejudices, neighbourhood
gives rise to other and greater evils. It is a species of intestine warfare
which is carried on between religious parties who reside together. The
irritation produced by the frequent opportunities which individuals
find for agitating their disputes is an evil which ordinarily cures itself
in process of time. But their interests as separate societies, founded on
opposite principles, necessarily interfere and clash. A spirit of prose-
lytism is engendered. They draw disciples from one another ; mutual
reprisals are made ; advantages are oftentimes taken which would be
held not the most honourable in political warfare ; and each may be
said to flourish and grow by the decay and decrease of the rest.

The subject of litigation among Christians, and even the relation
which they stand in to one another as such, render the adjustment of
their differences more delicate and embarrassing. It is always a work
of difficulty to reconcile hostile parties, whatever the matter of strife
may happen to be. Once involved in litigation about civil rights and
property, men, not of the most contentious or obstinate tempers, have
been known to persevere until they had ruined themselves and their
families. Wlien unhappily discord and contention arise between those
who are allied by blood, or who were united by the bonds of close
friendship, their variance is of all others the most inveterate and deadly.
“ A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city ; and their
contentions are like the bars of a castle.” i If “ love is strong as death,
jealousy is cruel as the grave.” Of all the ties which bind man to man,
religion is the most powerful, and when once loosened or burst asunder,
it is the hardest to restore. Keligious differences engage and call into
action the strongest powers of the human mind. Conscience comes to
the aid of convictions of right, and zeal for the glory of God combines
with that jealousy with which we watch over everything that is con¬
nected with our own reputation. It has often been remarked, that
religious disputes are managed with uncommon warmth and acrimony ;
and this has been urged as an argument against all controversies of the
kind, and even as an argument against religion itself. It cannot be
denied, that, amid the din of disputation, that important truth, “ The
wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God,” has often been
forgotten by the contending parties ; and the personal altercations, the
railing accusations, the uncharitable judgments, the rash censures, the

1 Prov. xviii. 19.

150

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH.

wilful misrepresentations, the injurious calumnies, which have too often
infused their malignant and poisonous virus into these debates, have,
it must be confessed, contributed to bring great scandal on religion ;
though this sacred cause can never justly be made responsible in any
degree for excesses so inconsistent with its spirit and its precepts.
But let us not be unjust in seeking to be liberal. Genuine moderation
and candour are not to be confounded with indifference and lukewarm¬
ness. Religion is of paramount importance, and we ought not to
wonder that those who are in earnest about it should display a warm
and fervent zeal in the cause. They do not feel themselves at liberty
to make the same sacrifices to peace in the “ matters of the Lord,”
which they may be warranted and willing to make in their own. They
must “ buy the truth, but not sell it.” True religion is an entailed in¬
heritance, which they are bound to preserve and transmit, unalienated
and unimpaired, to their posterity, “ that the generation to come may
know it, even the children that shall be born, who shall arise and
declare it to their children.” They are only “ stewards of the mys¬
teries of God, and it is required in stewards, that they be found faith¬
ful.” In proportion, therefore, as they are persuaded that the honour
of God, and the interests of truth, and the welfare of souls are con¬
cerned in the subjects which are litigated, and enter into the grounds
of difference between them and other Christians, it may be expected
that they will show themselves firm and tenacious. And, as this must
be supposed to be the persuasion of persons of different parties, and
indeed of all who maintain a separate communion on conscientious
principles, it is easy to perceive what an obstacle it presents in the way
of conciliation and union.

Feelings of personal offence and injury form no inconsiderable
obstacle in the way of removing divisions in the church. In one
degree or another these are unavoidable, when religious differences
arise and grow to a height. They are no proper ground of separation,
and the recollection of them ought not to be allowed to stand in the
way of a desirable reunion. If in any instance personal injury has
been combined with injuries done to truth, those who have been the
sufferers need to exert the utmost jealousy over their own spirits.
Self-love will lead us insensibly to confound and identify the two ; and
what we ffatter ourselves to be pure zeal for religion and hatred of sin,
may, in the process of a rigid and impartial examination, be found to
contain a large mixture of resentment for offences which terminated on
ourselves. Perhaps we have, while endeavouring to act faithfully, been
evil entreated by those with whom we were connected in church fellow¬
ship. If we permit a sense of this to rankle in our breasts, or even to
live in our recollections, if by recurring to it in our conversations,
although without any angry or revengeful feelings, we transfuse it
into the minds of others, this will infallibly operate in preventing or
embarrassing any negotiation for peace, however fair and promising in

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151

itself. Or, let us reverse the case. Perhaps we have behaved our¬
selves unkindly and harshly to our brethren ; we may have been instra-
mental in spoiling them of their goods for conscience’ sake j we may,
from mistake or misapprehensions of them, have cast out their names
as evil — reproached, misrepresented, calumniated them. Let not the
consciousness of this keep us at a distance from them ; let us not do
them farther injury by harbouring the thought that they cannot forgive
or forget the offences which they have received. They are men “ of
another spirit ; ” they know how much need they themselves have of
forgiveness ; and will be forward to prevent our acknowledgments, and
dissipate our apprehensions, by saying to us, not in the spirit of assumed
superiority, but in the bowels of brotherly kindness, “ Be not grieved,
neither be angry with yourselves.”

In surveying the causes which obstruct a desirable reunion of Chris¬
tians, we cannot overlook the influence of party-spirit, and unreason¬
able respect to the credit of particular sects and denominations. The
only thing that can warrant the establishment of separate communions
is their being necessary for asserting and maintaining the purity of the
truths and institutions of Christ. As soon as this object is gained, they
become unnecessary and useless, and ought to cease and disappear.
It is not the name of any party, or of its founder or leader, but the name
of Jesus Christ, that must “endure for ever,” and every true lover of
Him will be disposed to say with his harbinger, “ He must increase, but
I must decrease,” and will rejoice in seeing the saying verified. Pro¬
vided the scriptural doctrines which they have been honoured to main¬
tain be acknowledged and embraced, the enlightened friends of religion
will cheerfully consent that the names of Protestants, and Calvinists,
and Presbyterians, and Seceders, together with the parties designated
by them, should be forgotten and sunk in the more honourable and
catholic name by which “ the disciples were first called at Antioch.”
But is this spirit common, even in an age advancing high claims to
liberality 1 How ready are we to associate our own honour with that
of the religious society to which we belong, and under the influence of
this compound feeling to forget the paramount homage we owe to that
“ Name which is above every name that is named, not only in this
world, but also in that which is to come !” How much does this enter
into our public contendings ! What regard is often shown to it in ne¬
gotiations for union ! Victory, not truth, is too often the object of
litigant parties ; and provided they can gain this, though it should be
achieved by over-reaching one another, and by practising the low tricks of
a worldly policy, they will boast of a religious triumph. Every candid
and observing person will admit, too, that, in those religious denomina¬
tions which have truth and right on their side, there are persons whose
choice has not been determined by enlightened views of the impor¬
tance of the cause which they have espoused, and who would stoutly
resist every conciliatory measure from attachment to certain venerated

152

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

names, from early associations, and preference of some external forms,
which have varied in different periods and places without any infringe¬
ment of the laws of Christ, or any real injury to Christian edification.
Even those who are not averse to sacrifice truth to peace often show
themselves keen sticklers for the credit of a party, and rather than
compromise it in the slightest degree, or admit the most distant reflec¬
tion on themselves or their associates, would break off or endanger the
success of the most promising and reasonable overtures. With them
the question is not. Can we make such concessions and accede to such
terms, without relinquishing truth, and acting unfaithfully to God?
but. Can we do this without constructively confessing that we have
been so far in an error, and acknowledging that others have been more
righteous, or honest, or intelligent than we ? My brethren, these things
ought not so to be. So long as a spirit of this kind prevails, every
attempt at healing divisions in the church will prove abortive, or will
lead to such general, ambiguous, or contradictory arrangements, as
merely cover over the disease, while they plant the seeds of future dis¬
quiet and disunion.

In fine, self-interest will be found a hinderance to this desirable
event. How general the influence of this principle is among professed
Christians in the best of times, appears from the apostle’s exclamation,
“All seek their own, not the things of Jesus Christ!” When
undefined and sinful schemes of union and comprehension happen to be
popular, self-interest will prove a powerful temptation to unfaithfulness.
But it has, in every age, clogged the wheels of those noble undertakings
which had for their object the public good of human society. When
religious parties are established in great numbers, and have subsisted
for a long period of time, the interests of individuals may come in
various ways to be involved in their support and maintenance. Liberal
notions often float in the head, while the heart is contracted with self¬
ishness ; and many who exclaim loudly against bigotry would not dis¬
arrange their connections, nor'sacrifice their worldly interest, to promote
a measure the most decidedly advantageous to religion, and to the
general welfare and peace of the Church of Christ.

If these considerations be duly weighed, we will not be greatly sur¬
prised that so little progress has been made in the work of composing
differences among Christians. Since the period of the Reformation,
attempts of this kind have been frequently made in reference to various
parties ; some proposing to unite the denominations commonly called
evangelical, or which differ only as to forms of government and worship ;
others extending their views to Armenians and Calvmists ; while
others have engaged in the preposterous undertaking of effecting a
reconciliation between Papists and Protestants. But though these
designs have been prosecuted with great zeal, and sometimes by men
of acknowledged talents and piety, whose exertions have been backed
by those who had great influence with the contending parties, they

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH,

153

have generally failed altogether, or led to no permanently good results ;
and sometimes they have tended to inflame the quarrel, to place the
parties at a greater distance from one another, and to create new con¬
fusions and divisions.

Sensible of these difficulties, and despairing of being able to remove
them by the ordinary mode of conference, explanations, and discussion,
many have come to adopt the opinion that there is but one way of
putting an end to the divisions of the church ; that is, by abstracting
totally the points of difference, consigning all the controversies which
have arisen to oblivion, and bringing together the separate parties on
the undebatable ground which is common to all. A remedy which
would prove worse than the disease — an expedient which would lay
the basis of union on the grave of all those valuable truths and institu¬
tions which have been involved in the disputes of different parties, and
which constitute the Arm and sacred bonds of ecclesiastical confedera¬
tion and communion.

Is this desirable event, then, altogether hopeless 1 Is it vain to pray
for the peace of Jerusalem, or to make any attempts for its restoration?
Is there no balm by whose virtue, no physician by whose skill, the
bleeding wounds of the church may be closed? Every person who
“ loves the truth and peace” wiU reply, God forbid that this should be
the case !

154

DISCOURSE 11.

“ They shall be one in mine hand.” — Ezek. xxxvii. 19.

Having taken a view of the scriptural unity of the church, and of the
nature and causes of those divisions by which it is broken, let us now
turn our eye to a more agreeable and cheering prospect.

III. Of the Eemoval of the Divisions of the Church, and the Resto¬
ration of her violated Unity.

1. A happy reunion of the divided church is promised in the Word
of God. It is implied in those promises which secure to the church the
enjoyment of a high degree of prosperity in the latter days — in which
God engages to arise and have mercy on Zion, to be favourable to
his people, pardon their iniquity, and hear their prayers, cause their
reproach to cease, and make them a praise, a glory, and a rejoicing, in
all the earth ; in one word, in which he promises to pour out his Holy
Spirit and revive his work. God cannot be duly glorified, religion
cannot triumph in the world, the church cannot be prosperous and
happy, until her internal dissensions are abated, and her children come
to act in greater unison and concert. But when her God vouchsafes to
make the light of his countenance to shine upon her, and sheds down
the enlightening, reviving, restorative and sanctifying influences of his
Spirit, the long delayed, long wished-for day will not be far distant : it
will have already dawned.

But there are, in the Bible, promises that bear directly on this part
of the church’s felicity, and pledge the divine faithfulness for the
restoration of her lost peace and violated unity. Some of these I
shall lay before you as grounds of your faith, and encouragements to
your hopes and endeavours. I begin with the declaration of the
evangelical prophet, which has been often re-echoed in the prayers of
the friends of Zion, and which deserves your particular attention from
its occupying a place in the midst of promises referring immediately to
the times of the New Testament : “ Thy watchmen shall lift up the
voice; with the voice together shall they sing : for they shall see eye to eye,
when the Lord shall bring again Zion.” ^ The divisions and distractions
of the church have, in every age, been greatly owing to the conduct of
her overseers and guardians. If they “ follow their own spirit,” and see

1 Isa. lii. 8.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

155

a “ lying divination,” how can it be expected that they shall “ go np into
the gaps, to make np the hedge, or stand in the battle in the day of the
Lord ^ If in giving forth instructions respecting sin and duty, danger
and safety, their voices be dissonant and contradictory, must they not
cause great distress and perplexity to their people, and prove, instead
of messengers of peace, “ the snare of a fowler in all their ways, and
hatred in the house of their God V’^ How cheering, then, the assurance
that they “ shall see eye to eye” in the matters of God, and lift up their
united voice in “ publishing salvation, and saying to Zion, Thy God
reigneth !” To this may be added another passage from the same
prophecy which bears an equally undoubted reference to the latter
days, although clothed in Old Testament language ; “ He shall set up
an ensign for the nations, and shall assemble the outcasts of Israel, and
gather together the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the
earth. The envy also of Ephraim shall depart, and the enmity* of
Judah shall be cut off : Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall
not vex Ephraim.” Then, instead of waging an unnatural war, and
forming ungodly alliances to enable them the more effectually to harass
one another, they shall, with united strength, assail the avowed enemies
of religion : “ They shall ffy upon the shoulders of the Philistines : they
shall lay their hand upon Edom and Moab ; and the children of Ammon
shall obey them.”^ The remark made as to the period referred to in
the above predictions may be applied to the following, although some
parts of the description relate more immediately to the deliverance from
the Assyrian and Babylonian captivities : “ At the same time, saith the
Lord, will I be the God of all the families of Israel, and they shall be
my people. — For there shall be a day, that the watchmen on the mount
Ephraim shall cry. Arise ye, and let us go up to Zion unto the Lord our
God.”* — “ Behold, I will bring it health and cure, and I will cure them;
and will reveal unto them the abundance of peace and truth. And I
will cause the captivity of Judah, and the captivity of Israel, to return,
and will build them, as at the first.” ® Suffice it to add these two evan¬
gelical promises : “ Then will I turn to the people a pure language, that
they may all call upon the name of the Lord, to serve him with one
consent.” “ It shall yet come to pass, that there shall come people,
and the inhabitants of many cities : and the inhabitants of one city
shall go to another, saying. Let us go speedily to pray before the Lord ;
I will go also. Yea, many people and strong nations shall come to seek
the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem, and to pray before him. — And the Lord
shall be king over all the earth : in that day shall there be one Lord,
and his name one.” ®

These, brethren, are “ exceeding great and precious promises ;” and
do they not amply secure the attainment, in due time, of the blessing to

? Zeph. iii. 9.

8 Zeoh. viii. 20 — 22 ;
xiv. 9.

1 Ezek. xiii. 3, 5, 6.

2 Mio. vii. 4 ; Hos. ix. 8.

* See Bisliop Lowth’s Note on the passage.

4 Is,x xi. 12, 13, 14.

5 Jer. xxxi. 1, 6.

8 Jer. xxxiii. 6, 7.

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which they all so evidently refer? Yes : “these are the true sayings of
God” — of Him who cannot lie, nor change nor call back his words.
They are the sayings of Him “ that frustrateth the tokens of the liars
and maketh diviners mad ; that turneth wise men backward, and maketh
their knowledge foolish ; that confirmeth the word of his servant, and
performeth the counsel of his messengers.” i They are “ written for the
generation to come, and the people that shall be created shall praise the
Lord” for the fulfilment of them. Give him glory by placing your hope
and confidence in his promises ; and let the cheering prospect which
they hold forth console and animate your hearts, amidst all the distress
which you feel in contemplating the present disordered and divided
state of the church. Are you still disposed to say, “ How can these
things be ?” Do you find it difficult “ against hope to believe in hope?”
Consider what I have farther to say.

2. The removing of divisions, and the restoring of unity and peace to
the church, is the work of God. What “ the mouth of the Lord hath
spoken,” His hand will perform. He has not only predicted that the
event shall happen, but He has promised to bring it to pass. He may
employ men as “ workers together with him,” but He has not left the
success to depend on their exertions, and with His own irresistible and
all-powerful arm will He redeem the pledge which He has given by the
interposition of His sacred and inviolable word ; “ I will take the stick
of Joseph which is in the hand of Ephraim, and put it with the stick of
Judah, and they shall be one in mine hand. I will make them one
nation in the land.”

God is the great pacificator and repairer of the breach. This is the
name by which He is repeatedly called, and the trath of which He will
evince, “The Lord God who gathereth the outcasts of Israel.” The
disorders which break out among Christians, and which destroy the
unity and peace of the church, are, as we have seen, sure marks of His
divine displeasure. Because they have moved Him to jealousy and
provoked Him by their vanities. He permits the hot burning bolts of
mutual jealousy and provocation to be thrown among them. It is
impossible that the fire thus kindled can be extinguished — it will
continue, in spite of all exertions, to “burn with a most vehement
flame,” until He is reconciled, and shall have pardoned their sins. “ 0
God, thou hast cast us off", thou hast scattered us, thou hast been
, displeased : 0 turn thyself to us again. Thou hast made the earth to
tremble ; thou hast broken it : heal the breaches thereof ; for it
shaketh.”^ When He has “taken away all his wrath, and turned
himself from the fierceness of his anger,” He will “ speak peace to his
people and to his saints ;” He will smile success on those measures
which He formerly blasted with His frown ; and those who wept to
see “the city of their solemnities” a scene of confusion and strife,

1 Isa. xliv. 25, 26. - Psal. lx. 1, 2.

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157

shall behold it “ a quiet habitation ” — the city of peace. “ He that
scattered Israel will gather him, and keep him, as a shepherd doth
his flock.” ^

He will establish unity on the solid and immovable basis of immu¬
table truth and eternal righteousness. This distinguishes the work of
God from the coalitions formed by the wit and policy of men. They
are often so intent and eager to reach the end, that they overlook and
pass by the means proper for gaining it, and are ready to sacrifice truth
and communion with God, for the sake of peace and fellowship with
creatures. But his “ eyes are on the truth,” and he bears an invariable
love to judgment and righteousness. The “ prophets” of the church
may be “ light and treacherous” men, and “ her priests” may do “ violence
to the law ; ” but “ the just Lord is in the midst thereof ; he will not do
iniquity : every morning doth he bring his judgment to light, he faileth
not.” *

And as He cannot, consistently with his moral perfections, do what is
prejudicial to truth, or injurious to any of His laws and ordinances, so
He is never reduced to the necessity of having recourse to methods which
involve this, in order to fulfil His designs and promises. “ Wonderful
in counsel and excellent in working,” He can devise and execute a plan
for accomplishing the highest ends by the best and holiest means.
Call to your minds the amazing plan, conceived by “ wisdom dwelling
with prudence,” for reconciling the world to himself, and for repairing
and closing up the wide and tremendous breach opened by the apostasy
of man from his Maker. Survey this “ wisdom of God in a mystery,”
as it is now unfolded by the Gospel. Consider the disposition of its
parts, the perfect adaptation of the means to the end, and the nice
adjustment of each of these means to the rest. See how it tends to
vindicate the authority of the divine law, to assert the honour of the
supreme lawgiver, and to stamp heaven’s broadest, blackest brand of
infamy on sin, at the same time that it provides a way of escape and
salvation to the rebellious sinner. See those attributes of Deity, whose
claims were apparently conflicting and irreconcilable, harmonising and
conspiring together to promote the gracious design, reflecting lustre
upon one another, mingling their rays and concentrating their lights,
until at last they burst fortli in one united blaze of glories more effulgent
! and overwhelming than is to be seen in all the other works of God.

: See “ mercy and truth meeting together ; righteousness and peace
kissing each other ; truth springing out of the earth, and righteousness
looking down from heaven.” ® Surely the God of Peace, who has dis-
: played such “ manifold wisdom” in restoring us to His favour by Christ
Jesus, can be at no loss to reconcile His followers, and to terminate their
minor differences, in such a way as shall be fully consistent with the
claims of truth and holiness.

1 Jer. xxxi. 10. * Zeph. iii. 4, 5. 3 Psal. Ixxxv. 10, 11.

158

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

3. God will bring about this happy event under the administration of
his Son, and by the influences of his Spirit.

“ I will make them one nation ; — and David my servant shall be king
over them : and they all shall have one shepherd.” * Christ is “ the Prince
of Peace ; ” and “ having made peace by the blood of his cross,” it is fit
that He should have the honour, and He is qualified for the task, of
terminating all the variances which may arise among those whom He
has reconciled to God. As the High Priest of our profession. His prayer
for them that have believed on Him is, “ That they all may be one, as
thou. Father, art in me and I in thee, that they also may be one in us;”
and when at any time, in their present imperfect state, they kindle the
anger of God against them by their discontents and seditions, “ he
stands,” like Aaron with his golden censer, “ between the dead and the
living ; and the plague is stayed.” ^ As the King of the church He will
confer this blessing on her. Though we do not yet see that “ abund¬
ance of peace” which was predicted of His reign, we have the best
grounds to believe, that, in the progress of His wise and righteous and
beneficent administration, the ecclesiastical feuds which have prevailed
among his followers, and even the political wars which have raged
among the nations, will gradually subside, and issue in a state of peace,
concord, and amity, which, thnugh not so perfect and uninterrupted as
some have sanguinely anticipated, has hitherto been unexampled in the
world. “ He shall speak peace unto the heathen.” ® “ He shall judge

among many people, and rebuke strong nations afar off ; and they shall
beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-
hooks ; nation shall not lift uj) a sword against nation, neither shall they
learn war any more.”^

He will accomplish this chiefly by the influences of his Spirit
accompanying his word ; — enlightening, regenerating, humanising, puri¬
fying the hearts of men, and thus uniting them in love to Himself, and
subjection to His laws. The conversions, the revivals, the reformations,
the unions, the enlargements of the church, are all ascribed in Scrip¬
ture to this secret, irresistible, all-subduing agency. When God had
begun to bestow on His people the blessings promised in our text and
context, the prophet Zechariah was presented with the sight of a golden
candlestick, having a bowl on its top, with seven lamps and seven pipes,
and two olive trees which furnished the bowl with a constant supply of
oil. And this is the explanation of the emblem, as given by the
angelical interpreter who stood by it : “ Hot by might, nor by power, but
by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.” ^ “ The briars and thorns” of con¬
tention, and all the bitter fruits that have spnmg from the old curse,
will continue to “ come up upon the land of God’s people,” “ until the
Spirit be poured upon us from on high.” ® When, at His ascension,
Christ shed down the Holy Spirit, and “the appearance of cloven

1 Ezek. xxxvii. 22, 24.

2 Num. xvi.

s Zech.. ix. 10.

* Mic. iv. 3. Isa. ii. 4.

5 Zech. iv. 6.

® Isa. xxxii. 13 — 15,

THE UNITY OP THE CHURCH.

159

tongues, as of fire, sat on the disciples,” the strangers who were collected
heard each in his own language the wonderful works of God, and “ the
multitude of them that believed were of one heart and one soul.” Nor
is it to be expected, my brethren, that we shall emerge from our con¬
fusions, worse than those which invaded mankind in the plain of Shinar,
or that we shall regain primitive unanimity, until we are blessed with
a new and liberal effusion of the influences of that Spirit who descended
on the day of Pentecost.

In order to our becoming again “ one body,” we must be “ all baptised
by one Spirit, and all made to drink into one Spirit.” ^ It is “ the unity
of the Spirit” that we are to “ endeavour to keep in the bond of peace.”
Without His gracious aid we shall not be able to regain it when lost :
our counsels will be foolish and carnal, and our endeavours feeble and
abortive. Without this, it will want the essential characters of a
scriptural and godly union. Ought it to be a union in the tmth 1 He
is “ the Spirit of truth,” and it is His work to “ lead unto all truth.”
Ought it to be holy ? He is “ the Spirit of holiness.” In fine, it is
He who produces and cherishes all those dispositions by which Christian
union is cemented, and who counteracts all those principles which tend
to its dissolution : “ The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffer¬
ing, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekoess, temperance. If we live
in the Spirit,” we shall “ not be desirous of vain-glory, provoking one
another, envying one another.” ^

4. God prepares the way for union by reformation, and the revival of
real religion. Abuses, and a course of corrupt administration, in a civil
state, excite discontent and sedition, and sometimes lead to open re¬
bellion and anarchy. The corruption of the word and ordinances of
God is one great cause of divisions and offences in the church. The
only way of effectually curing the evil is to remove the cause. Hence,
the false prophets are severely reproved for “healing the hurt” of God’s
ancient people “ slightly,” and promising peace to them, while they re¬
mained impenitent and unreformed. When a wicked king asked, “ Is it
peace 1” the only reply which he could obtain was, “ What hast thou to
do with peace? — what peace, so long as the whoredoms of thy mother
J ezebel, and her witchcrafts are so many ? ” ® If religious societies are in
a corrupt or declining state, their conjunction could only tend to aggra-
' vate their corruption and accelerate their decline.

I When God intends to restore unity to His church. He begins with re-
; forming her, and removing those evils which are offensive to Himself,
i and to His faithful people. He gives commandment to “ cast up, to pre-
1 pare the way, to take up the stumbling-block out of the way of his
people.” * He, as “ the Breaker, goes up before them.” He enters His
house, and His eyes, as a flame of fire, survey every apartment and every
corner in it : He sees what is awanting and needs to be supplied and set
in order, as well as what is superfluous and ought to be removed — all

^ 1 Cor. xii. 13. 2 (Jal. v. 22—26. * 2 Kings, L\. 19, 22. < Isa. Ivii. 14; Ixii. 10.

160

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

error, will-worship, prostitution of sacred things, tyranny, disorder. He
ascends His judgment-seat, fences His great court of inquest and review,
calls His servants before Him, and institutes an inquiry into their con¬
duct ; reproving their mismanagement, reversing their unjust sentences,
correcting every abuse, redressing every wrong, and deciding impartially
and finally every quarrel and controversy that may have arisen among
the members of His household. This judicial process is often very
severe— to many it may prove ruinous and destructive ; but to His
church its issue is most beneficial and salutary. “ Who may abide the
day of his coming ? or, who shall stand when he appeareth ? He shall
sit as a refiner and purifier of silver ; he shall purify the sons of Levi,
that they may offer a pure offering in righteousness. Then shall the
offering of Judah and Jerusalem be pleasant unto the Lord, as in the
days of old, and as in former years.” ^

Examine those promises which hold forth the prospect of reunion to
the church : you will find this in every instance associated with her
reformation. Does God promise, “ they shall all serve me with one
consent f ’ This is the fruit of a previous promise, “ I will turn to the
people a pure language.” Does He say, “ I will give them one heart ? ”
He will do so, when “ they shall take away all the detestable things and
all the abominations from thence.” ^ Does He say that “ Israel shall be
the third with Egypt and Assyria?” It is in the way of these two
heathen nations being made to “ speak the language of Canaan, and
swear to the Lord of hosts ;” that is, profess the true religion, and de¬
vote themselves to the service of God.® I ask your attention parti¬
cularly to the predictions of the event immediately referred to in our
text. The following declaration summarily announces the divine plan :
“ Thus saith the Lord ; In the day that I shall have cleansed you from
all your iniquities, I will also cause you to dwell in the cities, and the
waste places shall be built.” * How this purification shall be effected is
declared in these words : “ I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye
shall be clean ; — a new heart also will I give you, and I will put my
Spirit within you.”® The permanent effects of this reformation are
predicted in a verse subsequent to the text : “ Neither shall they

defile themselves any more with their idols, nor with their detestable
things, nor with any of their transgressions ; but I will save them out
of all their dwelling-places, wherein they have sinned, and will cleanse
them ; so shall they be my people, and I will be their God.” ® The process
is described in different language, but of the same import, in a preceding
part of the prophecy : “ I Avill cause you to pass under the (tithing)
rod,^ and I will bring you into the bond of the covenant ; and I will

1 Mai. iii. 2 — 4. * Ezek. xxxvi. 33. tithing master. Lev. xxvii. 32. The follow-

2 Ezek. xi. 18, 21. ® Ib. ver. 25 — 27. ing is, in my opinion, the meaning of the

3 Isa. xix. 18, 21, 24. ® Ib. xxxvii. 23. passage. The persons more immediately re-

7 This is, I believe, commonly understood ferred to are those Jews, who before the

of the rod of correction: I am inclined to final destruction of Jerusalem by Nebu-
think that the allusion is to the rod of the chadnezzar, had fled and taken refuge in

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

161

purge out from among you the rebels, and them that transgress against
me — they shall nob enter into the land of Israel.” When this has been
executed : “ In mine holy mountain, in the mountain of the height of
Israel, there shall all the house of Israel, all of them in the land, serve
me ; there will I accept them.” ^ It shall be as of old, “ The tenth part
shall be holy to the Lord.” Sometimes, indeed, the process of refinement
is not carried so far, and the residue is reduced only to a third. “ It shall
come to pass, that in all the land, saith the Lord, two parts therein shall
be cut off and die ; but the third shall be left therein. And I will bring
the third part through the fire, and will refine them as silver is refined, and
will try them as gold is tried ; They shall call on my name, and I will hear
them ; I will say. It is my people ; and they shall say. The Lord is my God.” *
Run over the page of the church’s history, and you will find the facts
corresponding to the language of prophecy : her unions have been pre¬
ceded by reformations. This was the case in the days of Hezekiah.
That pious and reforming monarch not only removed the monuments of
idolatry, but also “ brake in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had
made,” because “the children of Israel did burn incense to it he
opened the house of the Lord, and excited the priests and Levites to
sanctify it, to offer the burnt-offering upon the altar, and to celebrate
the praises of God, “ according to the commandment of David, and of
Gad the King’s seer, and of Nathan the prophet.” After this he sent
“ posts with letters through all Israel and Judah,” inviting the people
of both kingdoms to turn again to the Lord, enter into his sanctuary,
and keep the solemn passover which he had indicted. The following
is the account of his success : “ Divers of Asher and Manasseh and of
Zebulon humbled themselves, and came to Jerusalem. Also in Judah
the hand of God was to give them one heart to do the commandment of
the king and of the princes, by the word of the Lord. So there was
great joy in Jerusalem ; for since the time of Solomon the son of David
king of Israel there was not the like in Jerusalem.” ‘ — This was the
case also at the return from Babylon, when the schism between Judah

Phoenicia, and other countries bordering up¬
on Judea, who flattered themselves that they
should soon be able to return to their own
laud, though they still cherished their ido¬
latrous inclinations, and who had sent
their elders to Ezekiel, to obtain, if pos¬
sible, a response from God favourable to
their wishes. (Ver. 1 ; comp. chap. xiv.
1 — 4). The prophet is directed to inform
them that what “ cometh into their mind
shall not be at all’’ — that they shall be forced
out of the countries where they now reside,
and brought into “the wilderness of the
people ’’ (Chaldea), and there God will plead
His controversy with them, as He had done
with their fathers “ in the wilderness of the
land of Egypt,’’ or into which they came
after being brought out of Egypt. (Ver .33 —
36). More jiarticularly. He will “ cause them
to pass under the (tithuig) rod,” setting aside

a tenth part of them for himself, and for this
part He will ‘ ‘ remember his covenant in the
days of their youth, and establish unto them
an everlasting covenant. ’’ (Chap. xvi. 60 —
63). The nine parts He will treat as He had
treated the bulk of the generation that came
out of Egypt : He will “ juirge them out as
rebels ” — they shall not “ enter into the land
of Israel,” but may “ go serve every one his
idols, ’’where he chooses. (Verses 38, 39). But
the tenth part, which remains after “ the
rebels and transgressors have been purged
out from among them,” shall be restored to
Judea, and “all of them in the land ” shall
serve God acceptably, and He will be sancti¬
fied in them before the heathen.” (Ver.
40^4).

1 Ezek. XX. 35 — 40. * Zech. xiii. 8, 9.

s 2 Kings, xviii. 4.

* 2 Chron. xxx. 11, 12, 26.

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THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

and Israel was about to be completely cured. They were both cured of
their disposition to idolatry; “the altar was set upon his bases the
temple built “after the manner thereof;” and “ whatsoever was com¬
manded by the God of heaven diligently done for the house of the God
of heaven.” ‘ — It was at a period emphatically called “the time of refor¬
mation,” that Jew and Greek, Barbarian and Scythian, bond and free,
were made one, after the labours of the greatest of all reformers as well
as peacemakers, and of His forerunner, of whom it was said ; “ Many of
the children of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God. And he shall
go before him in the spirit and power of Elias, to turn the hearts of the
fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just ;
to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”^ — Subsequently there
have been times of reformation in the church, and especially in our
land, which were accompanied by a happy and uncommon spirit of
unanimity and conjunction among the friends of religion. And to those
measures which once and again put a premature stop to the progress of
religious reform in England, and which at one time overturned, and
afterwards defaced and marred, a more perfect reformation attained in
Scotland, must we principally attribute those ecclesiastical divisions and
feuds which have arisen at different periods, and still prevail in both
countries.

The ways and thoughts of the Almighty are very different from ours.
We seek great things : He seeks those which are good. We look on
the outward appearance of a cause or a measure : He looks into the
heart of it. We “ despise the day of small things,” and nothing will
satisfy us but an attempt upon a great scale : He, on the contrary, de¬
lights in a work which is in its “beginning small;” in its progress,
gradual, noiseless, and often imperceptible ; but in “ its latter end doth
greatly increase.” We would unite large masses, and afterwards set about
reforming them: His plan is the reverse. “Turn, 0 backsliding children,
and I will take you one of a city, and two of a family, and I will bring
you to Zion : and I will give you pastors according to mine heart, which
shall feed you with knowledge and understanding. And it shall come
to pass, Avhen ye be multiplied and increased in the land— they shall call
J erusalem the throne of the Lord; and all nations shall be gathered unto
it, to the name of the Lord.”'

5. God sometimes facilitates and prepares the way for union by re¬
moving the occasions of offence and division. In righteoiis judgment
He permits stumblingblocks to fall in the way of professors of religion,
which he afterwards mercifully removes. As long as the two kingdoms
of J udah and Israel subsisted, they were rivals, and policy concurred
with a passion for idolatry in keeping up their religious dissensions. In
overturning the kingdom of Israel by the Assyrians, He whose views
are not limited to the accomidishment of a single end, intended not only
to punish that people for their defection from His worship, but also to

1 Ezra, pawtm. * Luke, i. 16, 17. ® Jer. iii. 14 — 17.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH,

163

prepare the way for their coalescing with Judah into one holy society.
“ Yet a little while,” says He, “ and I will cause to cease the kingdom of
the house of Israel. Then shall the children of Judah and the children
of Israel he gathered together, and appoint themselves one head, and
they shall come up out of the land.”^ Even the kingdom of Judah be¬
hoved to be dissolved, that every obstruction might be removed out of
the way and that “ the glory of the house of David and the glory of
the inhabitants of Jerusalem might not magnify themselves” over their
brethren. A long and violent quarrel had subsisted between the Jews
and Samaritans, which turned chiefly on the question whether Jerusa¬
lem or Mount Gerizzim was the divinely appointed place of sacred
service. The Jews were in the right on the merits of this question,
though they allowed their zeal to carry them to a vicious extreme, in
not only refusing to symbolise with a corrupt worship, but in also
declining to have any civil or friendly dealings with the Samaritans.
This was our Saviour’s judgment ; and yet he intimated to the woman
of Samaria, that God was about to put an end to the dispute in a way
which neither of the contending parties looked for. “ Woman, believe
me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet
at Jerusalem, worship the Father. Ye worship ye know not what : we
know what we worship : for salvation is of the Jews. But the hour
cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers of the Father shall wor¬
ship him in spirit and in truth.” ^ It pleased God, who “made peace by
the blood of the cross,” at the same time to reconcile Jews and Gentiles,
and to abolish the ceremonial law, which was a wall of partition between
them, that they might become one holy family. Though the virtual
abrogation of this law by the death of Christ set the consciences of
Christians free from its observance, their union was not yet complete ;
the temporary regulations made by divine direction for preserving com¬
munion between Jews and Gentiles, though they allayed, did not put
an end to all offences and divisions arising from this quarter ; and there¬
fore God provided for the consolidation of the union by destroying the
temple, and thus rendering the peculiar service connected with it physi¬
cally impossible.

Instances of the same kind, or at least analogous, might be pointed
out in the subsequent history of the church. Dissensions, which had
arisen among the early Christians during the severe and numerous per¬
secutions which they suffered, were terminated on the overthrow of
pagan Rome. The law known by the name of the Interim, enacted in
Germany soon after the Reformation, was not only the cause of much
suffering, but also of violent disputes and great disunion among Protest¬
ants ; while some of them pleaded the lawfulness of complying with its
regulations, and others, more firm and consistent, condemned this as a
sinful conformity. Of the same kind, during the last and sorest perse¬
cution in this country, were the disputes among Presbyterians, excited

* Hos. i. 4, 11. * John, iv. 21 — 23.

164

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

by the various ensnaring oaths and tests imposed by government ; and
the indulgences and tolerations which flowed from an Erastian supre¬
macy, were clogged with sinful conditions, and intended to pave the
way for the establishment of Popery and arbitrary power. All of these
were abolished at the Revolution. I do not mean to say that the
simple abolition of these or similar impositions will in itself heal the
divisions which they had occasioned, or, that it is a sufficient or proper
reason for the immediate restoration of interrupted communion and
harmony. As no external circumstance ought to mar the unity and
peace of the church, nor can it have this effect without the intervention
of human imperfection and sin, so no change of external circumstances
can restore what was lost without the co-operation of the grace of God,
inclining the hearts of the parties to their duty and to one another. All
that is meant is, that this is one of the means which Providence is some¬
times pleased to employ and bless ; and that by removing temptations
on the one hand, and occasions of offence on the other, it has a tendency
to facilitate arrangements for peace, in which a regard to faithfulness
and the public interests of religion is combined with a due respect to
the convictions of brethren, and an enlightened consideration of the
circumstances in which they may have been placed. I cannot help
viewing the present non-imposition of that oath, which at first occa¬
sioned a breach in the Secession body, as a dispensation of this kind,
and which admits of being improved in the way just mentioned ; pro¬
vided the parties concerned were cordially attached to the common
cause espoused by their fathers, and at one as to the great ends and
objects of their original association.

6. God prepares the way for union in his church by causing the
divided parties to participate of the same afflictions and deliverances.
Having described the judgments inflicted on the kingdom of the ten
tribes, God says to Judah : “ Thou shalt drink of thy sister’s cup deep
and large ; thou shalt be fiUed with drunkenness and sorrow, with the
cup of thy sister Samaria.” i Both the punishment and the deliverance
of Israel and Judah are often spoken of by the prophets as one ; and as
intended equally for their reformation and reunion. “By this therefore
shall the iniquity of Jacob be purged; and this is all the fruit to take
away his sin. And it shall come to pass in that day, that the Lord shall
beat along 2 the channel of the river unto the stream of Egypt, and ye
shall be gathered one by one, 0 )"e children of Israel.” »

Providence blesses their communion in suffering, to fit them for com¬
munion in love and holy living. How can fellow-sufferers but have a
fellow-feeling for one another Having drunk of the same cup of suf¬
fering, must they not desire to drink of the same cup of blessing and
thanksgiving 1 The process by which they are refined also prepares

1 Ezek. xxiii. 32, 33. wild beasts which took refuge there. Heuce

2 A metaphor borrowed from the practice the phrase, Excutere cubilibus /eras.

of hunters, who beat the bushes along the s isa. xxvii. 9, 12. See also Jer. 1, 17 — 20,33.

banks of rivers to rouse and dislodge the * 2 Cor. i. 7 ; 1 Thess. ii. 14.

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165

them for uniting, by consuming or separating the dross and tin and clay
of corruption which kept them asunder. “ Put many pieces of metal
together into the furnace, and when they are melted, they will run to¬
gether,” says a pious writer.^ When the Hebrews in Egypt smote and
strove with one another, and spurned the mediatory offices of Moses,
who “ would have set them at one again,” it was a proof that the time
of their deliverance was not yet come, and that they needed to be kept
longer in the iron furnace. It was when the sons of J acob were sus¬
pected as spies in Egypt, and harshly treated, and thrown into prison,
that they remembered their treatment of Joseph with whom they had
dealt cruelly as a spy on their conduct, and feelingly expressed their
compunction in the presence of their offended but forgiving and tender¬
hearted brother. Bishops Hooper and Ridley had a warm contest in
the reign of Edward VI., but when, in the time of the bloody Mary, they
were thrown into the same prison, and had the prospect of being brought
to the same stake, they lovingly embraced, and Ridley readily professed
his contempt for that ceremony which, with intolerant eagerness, he had
imposed on his reluctant brother. The affair of the Public Resolutions,
during the Second Reformation in Scotland, caused a very hurtful schism
in the Presbyterian church, and those who protested against the mea¬
sure had church censures inflicted on them by the ruling majority ; but
after the Restoration, when the religion and liberties of the nation were
overturned, and the arm of persecution was stretched out against both
parties, some of the leading promoters of the Resolutions had their eyes
opened, and candidly confessed that their protesting brethren had acted
a wiser and more upright part than themselves, — a confession honour¬
able to faithfulness, and a thousand times more creditable to the per¬
sons who made it, than if they had stood stiffly to the defence of their
conduct after the event had shown its faultiness, or if, covering self-love
with the cloak of forbearance, they had insisted on consigning the affair
to silence and oblivion.

When God grants a common deliverance to those who were exposed
to similar sufferings and dangers, he throws around their hearts “ the
cords of love,” and draws them together as with “ the bands of a man.”
The powers of hell and earth combined could not have severed the three
young captives, after they came up from the burning fiery furnace,
linked together in chains of a very different kind from those which the
flames had recently consumed. “ Lovely and pleasant in their lives,”
what a spectacle must they have afforded, “ in the midst of a crooked
and perverse nation among whom they walked as lights ! ” In the held
of modern church history, I do not know a spot on which the mind
rests with a more pleasing emotion, than that which describes the depu¬
tation sent by the Waldenses of Bohemia to congratulate and establish
concord with the first reformers of Germany and Switzerland ; the
candour with which that interesting and simple body of Christian con-

1 Henry, on Ezekiel xxxvii. 21.

166

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

lessors stated the faith and religious practice which they had so long
retained and held fast in the jaws of persecution ; and the ingenuous
and meek spirit with which they received the advice and admonitions
of their more enlightened brethren. The Harmony of Confessions in
the Protestant churches, and their mutual correspondence and co-opera¬
tion, evince the unanimity and goodwill by which they were actuated
at the era of the Reformation from Popery. It is true that a dispute
early arose between some of the leading reformers, which was managed
with unbecoming violence and obstinacy by at least one of the parties ;
but it was confined to a single article, and did not lead to an irreparable
breach, until after their death, when there had arisen a generation which
knew not the mighty works which the Lord had done in rescuing their
fathers from Antichristian darkness and bondage. I need not dwell on
the effect which emancipation from a popish and hierarchical yoke had,
at different periods, in uniting the friends of religion and reformation in
our native land, and in exciting them to seek the extension of this
“ blessed union and conjunction” to other Christian churches. It were
presumptuous to limit divine sovereignty, or to prescribe an invariable
mode of action to the Almighty and All-wise ; but brethren, as often
as I reflect on these things, and survey the present state of the church of
Christ, the thought still recurs forcibly to my mind. Surely we must
be made to pass through some fiery trial before we shall be refined from
those corruptions which have defaced the beauty and eaten out the
power of religion, and before we shall be fitted for becoming “ one in
the hand of the Lord.”

Lastly, In healing the divisions of the chureh, God has cemented and
consecrated the parties by disposing them to give the most solemn pledges
of their fidelity to Himself, and to one another. It was predicted that the
return from the captivity and the conjunction of Judah and Israel should
be distinguished by such exercises. “ In those days, and in that time,
saith the Lord, the children of Israel shall come, they and the children of
Judah together, going and weeping ; they shall go, and seek the Lord
their God. They shall ask the way to Zion, with their faces thitherward,
saying. Come, and let us join ourselves to the Lord in a perpetual cove¬
nant that shall not be forgotten.” ^ How exactly the event corresponded
to the prophecy, you may see by consulting the books of Ezra and
Nehemiah.

Public vows and religious covenants formed no part of Jewish
peculiarity. They did not belong to the ceremonial law ; and it would
be something worse than an absurdity to describe them as oaths of
allegiance to Jehovah, as the political head of the nation of Israel.
They are not more unsuitable to the character of the Christian church
than they were to that of the Jewish. Accordingly it is expressly
foretold in many prophecies, that such solemn exercises shall take place
in New Testament times.^ These predictions have been verified and

1 Jer. 1. 4, 5. 2 Isa. xix. IS, 21 ; xliv. 3—5 ; xlv. 23 ; Jer. iv. 2, Zech. ii. 11 ; xiii. 9.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

167

fulfilled at different periods and in different countries. And in none
have they been more eminently fulfilled than in our own land, especially
in times of reformation and union. When peace has been restored
between contending nations, it is common for them to renew their
former compacts of amity, and to repeat the solemnities by which they
were originally ratified. What more seasonable for those who have
long been divided by their own sins and the divine anger, than to
humble themselves before God, and to ask of Him a right way ? And
what more fitted for expressing their gratitude and cementing their
union, than a joint dedication of themselves to God, accompanied with
solemn pledges of mutual fidelity ?

I shall now state some inferences from the doctrine that has been
laid down.

1. You may see from this subject the extensive and permanent utility
of Old Testament Scripture. Not only was it “given by inspiration of
God,” but it still “ is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction,
for instruction in righteousness.” ^ Its utility is not limited to those
parts which contain prophecies relating to the New Testament, or
which afford us instruction by means of types and figures. It
abounds with direct information respecting the great tniths of religion,
the worship of God, and the exercises and experiences, the conflicts and
comforts, of a holy and godly life. It conveys important instruction
concerning the divine dispensations to individuals, nations, and the
church, and concerning the duties which men owe to God and to one
another, in their individual or collective capacity, and in their different
stations and relations, natural, civil or ecclesiastical. The permanent
authority and usefulness of the Scriptures of the Old Testament rest on
such principles as these ; that the Author of both great divisions of the
Bible is one and the same ; that He has in all ages governed the world
of mankind by moral laws, as well as ruled over a peculiar people ;
and that true religion, and the church of God professing it, have ever
been substantially the same under subordinate varieties of external
dispensation. Even those parts of the inspired record which refer to
the Jewish, admit of an application to the Christian economy, in the
way of analogy — by setting aside whatever was peculiar to the former
and seizing on the points of agreement or resemblance between the two
economies, and on those principles and grounds which are common to
both. This is a key to the Old Testament which appears to be much
neglected, and whose value has not been sufficiently appreciated :
although our Saviour and his apostles have set us examples of its use
and importance.^

Erroneous, mistaken, or defective notions on this subject are very
injurious to the unity and peace of the church. They are common in

1 2 Tim. iii. 16.

2 Matt. xii. 3 — 8; 1 Cor.ix. 8 — 14 ; x. 1 — 11, 17 — 22 ; James v. 16 — 18 ; with many other places.

168

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH,

the present time ; have given rise to “ diverse and strange doctrines,”
and an endless variety of novel opinions ; have produced distorted and
partial views of morality ; have sapped the foundation, and impaired
the evidence of many religious institutions ; and, under the name of
Christianity, have led to the adoption of a faith and practice not only
different from, but, in its genius and spirit, opposite to that religion
which God revealed from the beginning, and which was professed and
followed by the fearers of His name for four thousand years. Many who
maintain the divine origin and inspiration of this part of the sacred
volume, show a disposition unduly to abridge that authority which they
acknowledge in general, while they resist, as impertinent and inconclu¬
sive, every argument brought from it, unless it is supported and con¬
firmed by the writings of the New Testament. The principles, com¬
munion, and practice of Christians must necessarily be defective and
wrong, when they are formed and regulated, not by the whole, but a
part only of the perfect and divinely authorised standard. How can it
be expected that parties will come to one, if they are not agreed on
what constitutes the supreme judge of all their controversies, and the
infallible canon by which they are bound to walk together ?

2. We may hence see what constitutes the evil of schism, and wherein
this differs from warrantable separation. Though all parties nearly
agree in the general notion of schism, yet, when they come to explain
and apply it, they are found to differ very widely in their opinions.
Few subjects have been involved in greater obscurity, and have given
occasion to such opposite charges and severe recriminations. Some,
both in ancient and modem times, have described it in the most exagge¬
rated colours, and represented it as the most heinous of all sins. Papists
have grossly perverted the meaning of the word, and made it, along
with heresy, a constant topic of declamation and unjust reproach against
all who have left their communion ; and in this part of their conduct
they have been followed by the warm admirers, and undiscriminating
advocates of some national churches among Protestants.' Others have
erred on the opposite extreme, have extenuated its evil, and narrowed
the Scripture meaning of the term, by confining it to one kind or branch
of it, and excluding or overlooking all others. The original word in the
New Testament translated schism or division, signifies any rent or
breach, by which that which was formerly one is divided ; and when
applied to the church, it is always used in a bad sense. Christians are
reprehended for giving way to schism, and exhorted to avoid those who
cause it. It is a relative term, and cannot be understood without just
views of that unity and communion of which it is a violation.

Schism does not consist, as some have preposterously maintained, in

1 In their declamations against schism, tion can be so important as the sin of schism
such expressions as the following have been is pernicious : No multitude of good works,
used by Protestant writers (let them be no moral honesty of life, no cruel death,
nameless); “An offence so grievous that endured even for the faith, can excuse any
nothing so much incenses God ; No reforma- who are guilty of it from damnation.”

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

169

separation from the church, considered as invisible. It is not to be
restricted to separation from the catholic body, or whole community of
Christians ; as if none could be justly chargeable with this sin, for with¬
drawing from the communion of particular churches. It is often displayed
in fomenting factions within a church, and accompanied with an uncharit¬
able, bitter, or turbulent spirit : but there is no good reason for confining
it to one or both of these ; and neither the proper meaning of the word
nor the scriptural use of it, supports the favourite opinion of some
modern critics and divines, that “ no person who, in the spirit of candour
and charity, adheres to that which to the best of his judgment is right,
though in his opinion he should be mistaken, is, in the scriptural sense,
either schismatic or heretic.”^ Dishonesty and uncharitableness are
not essential qualities either of heresy or schism, but aggravations which
are sometimes found cleaving to them.

On the other hand, schism and separation are not convertible terms,
nor are the things signified by them necessarily of the same kind.
Schism is always evil ; separation may be either good or evil, according
to circumstances. To constitute the former, there must be a violation
of some of the scriptural bonds of unity in the body of Christ. It pre¬
supposes a church formed and constituted by the authority and accord¬
ing to the laws of Christ, and an administration corresponding to the
nature, character, and design of such a society, at least so far as that
persons may belong to it without sin, and hold communion with it con¬
sistently with that regard which they owe to their spiritual safety and
edification. The Christian church is not an arbitrary institution of
men — not a mere voluntary association of any number of people, for
any purpose, and on any terms, which to them may seem good ; nor
has its communion been left vague and undetermined by the laws of its
founder. It is not schism to refuse submission to human constitutions,
though they may be called churches, and may have religion some way
for their object, nor to refuse conformity to such terms as men may be
pleased to impose without warrant from the Word of God ; whether
these constitutions and terms proceed from the lust of power, or from
the pride of wisdom, and whether they be intended to forward the
policy of statesmen, to feed the ambition of churchmen, or to flatter the
humours of the populace.

That churches once pure and faithful may degenerate so far, and fall
into such a state as will warrant separation from them, is evident from
the injunctions and examples of Scripture, and from facts compared
with the nature and ends of religious fellowship. Nor can this be
denied by any consistent Protestant. To “ cleave to the Lord,” to culti¬
vate fellowship with Him in the way He has prescribed, and to “ follow
him whithersoever he goeth,” constitute the primary object to be kept

1 Dr C.aTnpbeU’s Dissertation on Heresy opinion, on the principles either of sound
and Schism ; prefixed to his New Transla- criticism or sound divinity, have heen ad-
tion of the Gospels. Some of the positions mitted with surprising facility in this
in that dissertation, indefensihle, in my country.

170

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

(

in view by Christians : to this, fellowship with men is secondary and
subordinate ; and we are bound to forego and relinquish the latter,
whenever it is found incompatible with the former. We are exhorted
to “ follow peace with all men,” not absolutely, but so far only as it is
consistent with “ holiness,” and maybe lawfully practicable. No par¬
ticular church has any promise securing her continuance in the faith
and in purity of communion ; and, consequently, none can have a right
to claim a perpetual or inviolable union with her, or to denounce per¬
sons schismatics simply on the ground of their withdrawing from her
pale and declining her authority.

Separation may be either negative or positive. A negative separa¬
tion consists in withdrawing from wonted communion with a church,
either in the way of not participating with her in some ordinances, on
the ground of corruptions attaching to them, or in the way of suspend¬
ing all public communion with her. A positive separation consists in
the formation of another church, and the holding of other assemblies, in
contradistinction from those with which we were formerly connected.
In all ordinary cases the former ought to precede the latter ; as it is
our duty to try every means for removing evils before adopting the last
resource. But when the prospect of recovering our Christian privileges,
consistently with our duty to God, may be distant and doubtful, when
many may be placed in the same situation with ourselves, and when
the public interests of religion are involved in the matter of our
grievances, the same reasons which warranted a negative separation
will, by their continuance, warrant that which is positive ; for none are
at liberty to live without public ordinances when they have access to
enjoy them. I need scarcely add, that if in providence we can find a
church already constituted to which we can conscientiously accede,
regard to the communion of saints, and aversion to unnecessary division,
ought to induce us to prefer this course to the formation of a new society.

I do not mean to determine the delicate question, how far or how
long communion may be maintained with corrupt churches, nor to state
the causes which may render separation from them lawful and neces¬
sary. The decision of such questions must always depend much on the
state of particular facts and actual circumstances occurring at the time.
Some general points are almost universally conceded, such as, that it is
warrantable to separate from a church which obstinately maintains
gross and destructive errors, or is chargeable with idolatry, or adul¬
terates the ordinances of Christ, or exercises a tyrannical authority over
the souls of men, or has established sinful terms of communion, or
whose fellowship we cannot enjoy without being involved in sin, and
living in the neglect of some necessary duty. When a church once re¬
formed and faithful not only departs from what she had professed and
received, and persists in this by a series of public acts, but also restrains
all due freedom in testifying against her defection ; or when she adopts
doctrines inconsistent with her former scriptural profession and engage-

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

171

meiits, and imposes these by the perverted exercise of authority and
discipline, — separation from her communion is lawful. When the pub¬
lic profession and administrations of a church have been settled con¬
formably to the laws of Christ, and sanctioned by the most solemn
engagements, if the majority shall set these aside, and erect a new con¬
stitution sinfully defective, and involving a material renunciation of the
former, the minority refusing to accede to this, adhering to their engage¬
ments, and continuing to maintain communion on the original terms,
cannot justly be charged with schism.

But while the lawfulness and duty of separation in certain cases is to
be asserted and vindicated, we must not overlook the evil of schism,
nor forget to warn you against unwarrantable or rash separations. It
cannot admit of a doubt, that in the present time there is a strong
tendency in the minds of many to run to this extreme ; and to this they
are inclined in no small degree by the incorrect and loose notions which
they entertain on the subject. Many can assign no grounds for their
leaving the communion of a church which will stand the test of Scrip¬
ture or reason. They are actuated by mere arbitrary will or obstinate
humour, by selfishness or unsociability of disposition, by capriciousness
or levity of spirit, and by dislikes which they cannot explain to others
and perhaps cannot account for to themselves. Others are infiuenced
by indifference to the benefit of religious fellowship, weariness of the
offices and duties connected with it, love of carnal liberty, aversion to
some of the doctrines or institutions of Christ, and impatience of faith¬
ful admonitions and the due exercise of church discipline. Others, who
show a regard for divine ordinances, and profess a concern to preserve
their purity, may relinquish the fellowship of a church from personal
offences and grudges, from pride, envy, or disappointed ambition, or on
account of debates and differences which have no immediate relation to
the terms of ecclesiastical communion. A church which has received
the doctrines of Christ, and in which the office-bearers and ordinances
instituted by Him, and all the privileges conducive to salvation, may be
enjoyed, may nevertheless be chargeable with various defects and evils.
I think myself warranted by Scripture, and supported by the sentiments
of the soundest divines who have treated this subject, when I state,
that separation from such a church cannot be vindicated when it proceeds
on such grounds as the following : Personal offences given by the mis¬
conduct of individual church members ; wrong decisions in personal
causes or particular acts of maladministration, when they are not of
lasting injury to the whole body ; differences of opinion among the
members of a church about matters that cannot be shown to be posi¬
tively determined in the Word of God, and have not been received into
the public profession of that church ; diversity of practice in some
points of mere external order, or in prudential regulations as to the
form of divine worship ; the venting of errors by particular teachers,
while the instances of this are infrequent, and not openly countenanced

172

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

by authority in the church, and the relaxation of discipline by admitting
improper persons into communion in particular cases, or by not duly
censuring those who are guilty of scandals, provided the ordinances
themselves are retained in purity, the rules of discipline are not set
aside, and there is access to have grievances on this head heard and
redressed in due time : in fine, irregularities or abuses of different
kinds in a church which is panting after reformation, endeavouring to
free herself from restraints and hindrances that prevent her attaining
it, and disposed to allow the use of those means which tend to further
this desirable object.

3. We may hence see ground for lamentation on account of the dis¬
sensions and divisions which at present abound in the church of Christ.
When, of old, one tribe in Israel was divided from the rest, or was pre¬
vented by intestine dissensions from “ coming to the help of the Lord
against the mighty,” it was matter of deep distress and bitter regret to
every lover of religion and the public welfare. “ For the divisions of
Reuben there were great thoughts of heart : — For the divisions of Reu¬
ben there were great searchings of heart.” ^ And, surely, we ought to
be affected in the same way in contemplating the dissensions of the
Christian commonwealth, and of the particular provinces and sections
of which it is composed. It is true, that, in the complex and extensive
arrangements of divine Providence, they are necessary ; and they will
be overruled for the production of ultimate and superabundant good.
But this does not prove that they are not evil in themselves, nor that
they may not be productive of manifold and great evils during a long
series of years. It is also true, that they have prevailed in every age,
and that the Church was not altogether free from them when she
appeared in virgin purity and with angelical power on her head. The
presence of inspired apostles, and the possession of miraculous gifts, did
not prevent division ; nay, these gifts became the occasions of foment¬
ing the evil, and by their abuse the members of the church were “ puffed
up one against another.” But at no former period, and in no other
country, has division prevailed to such an extent, as it does at present
in our own land, which exhibits a countless variety of religious per¬
suasions, and groans under endless divisions and subdivisions of
parties. We have societies maintaining contradictory sentiments on
almost every article of faith that can be named, and pursuing opposite
practices respecting every institution of religion and every form of its
celebration. Nor are the members of these societies in many instances
more united among themselves than the different parties are with one
another. Every one hath a psalm, hath a doctrine, hath a revelation,
hath an interpretation. Such a wanton use have we made of our
liberty as to have almost brought the very name into disgrace, and to
tempt men to think that there is no certainty in religion. Scotland
was long distinguished for her religious unity, as weU as purity. But,

1 Judg. V. 15, 16.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

173

alas ! it is to be lamented that, in both respects, there is reason for
saying, “ The glory is departed ! ” First the staff of Beauty, and after¬
wards that of Bands, has been broken in our land. We are now as
much disunited as our neighbours ; sects have multiplied among us ;
and those who were most firmly united, and under the highest obliga¬
tions to abide by a common profession, once solemnly embraced by the
whole nation, have been divided and sore broken in judgment.

Whether we consider the causes or the consequences of our divisions,
they call loudly for mourning. What reason have we to humble our¬
selves under the mighty hand of Glod, whose displeasure they so strongly
indicate ! to inquire, “ what meaneth the heat of this great anger 1 ”
to smite on our breast and say, each for himself, “ what have I done ”
to kindle or to keep alive the flame ? What a humiliating spectacle of
human weakness and depravity to see Religion, which is calculated
to unite men together “ even as with a band of iron and brass,” and
Christianity, which breathes nothing but “ peace and goodwill,” and the
Bible, expressly given by God as a common rule of faith and manners,
become the occasion of so much division and discord and strife in the
world ! What matter of triumph to the infidel and the idolater ! What
cause of stumbling and offence to the weak and doubting Christian !
How much has it contributed to mar the influence of the Gospel at
home, and to obstruct the propagation of it abroad, or to weaken
the efforts that are made for this purpose ! But I refrain from a
theme which has been copiously treated by many pious and eloquent
writers.

Some, perhaps, may see no reason for such deplorations. They rejoice
in the mitigation of that spirit of keenness and asperity with which
religious disputes were formerly carried on, and anticipate the happiest
results from the associations which have lately been formed among
Christians of almost all denominations. But a little consideration may
serve to lower the exultation which these facts are calculated at first view
to raise. The general object of some of these societies, and the distant
field of exertion chosen by others, remind us of our existing differences.
Under the combinations, too, which have been forming, a process of
decomposition has been secretly going on in the minds of Christians, by
which their attachment to various articles of the faith has been loosened.
A vague and indefinite evangelism, mixed with seriousness, into which
it is the prevailing disposition of the present age to resolve all Chris¬
tianity, will, in the natural progress of human sentiment, degenerate
into an unsubstantial and incoherent pietism, winch, after effervescing
in enthusiasm, will finally settle into indifference ; in which case, the
spirit of infidelity and irreligion, which is at present working and
spreading to a more alarming extent than many seem to imagine, will
achieve an easy conquest over a feeble and exhausted and nerveless
adversary. “ When the Son of Man cometh, shall he find faith in the
earth ? ” Let wise men judge whether these forebodings are fanciful.

174

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

4. The danger of latitudinarian schemes of union and fellowship.
Mournful as the divisions of the church are, and anxious as all its
genuine friends must be to see them cured, it is their duty to examine
carefully the plans which may be proposed for attaining this desirable
end. We must not do evil that good may come ; and there are sacrifices
too costly to be made for the procuring of peace with fellow Christians.
Is it necessary to remind you, that unity and peace are not always good,
nor a sure and infallible mark of a true and pure church 1 We know
that there is a church which has long boasted of her catholic unity not¬
withstanding all the corruptions which pollute her communion ; and
that within her pale the whole world called Christian once enjoyed a
profound repose, and it could be said, “ Behold, the people is one, and
they have all one language.” It was a union and peace founded in
ignorance, delusion, implicit faith, and a base subjection to human
authority ; and supported by the arts of compulsion and terror. But
there are other methods by which Christians may be deceived, and the
interests of religion deeply injured, under the pretext or with the view of
uniting its friends. Among these I know none more imposing, nor from
which greater danger is to be apprehended in the present time, than that
which proceeds on the scheme of principles usually styled latitudinarian.

It has obtained this name because it proclaims an undue latitude in
matters of religion, which persons may take to themselves or give to
others. Its abettors make light of the differences which subsist among
religious parties, and propose to unite them on the common principles
on which they are already agreed, in the way of burying the rest in
silence, or of stipulating mutual forbearance and charity with respect
to everything about which they may differ in opinion or in practice.
Some plead for this on the ground that the several professions of
religion differ very little from one another, and are all conducive to the
happiness of mankind and the honour of God, who is pleased with the
various and diversified modes in which men profess their regard to him,
provided only they are sincere in their professions ; a principle of dif-
formity, which, however congenial to the system of polytheism, is
utterly eversive of a religion founded on the unity of the divine nature
and will, and on a revelation which teaches us what we are to believe
concerning God, and what duty He requires of us. But the ground on
which this plan is ordinarily made to rest is a distinction made among
the articles of religion. Some of these are called essential, or funda¬
mental, or necessary, or principal ; others circumstantial, or non-funda¬
mental, or unnecessary, or less important. The former, it is pleaded,
are embraced by all true Christians; the latter form the subjects of
difference among them, and ought not to enter into the terms of eccle¬
siastical fellowship. ^ On this principle some of them would conciliate
and unite all the Christian denominations, not excepting Papists, Arians,

* The distinction is variously expressed, munion adhere to the distinction between
Sonae modern writers on the subject of com- what is essential or not essential to salva-

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

175

and Socinians ; while others restrict their plan to those called evan¬
gelical, who differ mainly in their views and practice as to the worship,
order, and discipline of the church.

The distinction on which this scheme rests, is itself liable to objec¬
tions which appear insuperable. It is not warranted by the Word of
God ; and the most acute of its defenders have never been able to state it
in a manner that is satisfactory, or which renders it subservient to any
practical use. The Scripture, indeed, speaks of certain truths which may
be called the foundation, because they are first laid, and others depend
on them — first principles, or elementary truths, which are to be taught
before others. But their priority or posteriority in point of order, in con¬
ception or instruction, does not determine the relative importance of doc¬
trines, or their necessity in order to salvation, far less does it determine
the propriety of their being made to enter into the religious profession
of Christians and Christian churches. There are doctrines, too, which
intrinsically, and on different accounts, may be said to have a peculiar
and superior degree of importance ; and this, so far as known, may
properly be urged as a motive for our giving the more earnest heed to
them. It is not, however, their comparative importance or utility,
but their truth and the authority of Him who has revealed them, which
is the formal and proper reason of our receiving, professing, and main¬
taining them. And this applies equally to all the contents of a divine
revelation. The relations of truths, especially those of a supernatural
kind, are manifold and incomprehensible by us ; it is not our part to
pronounce a judgment on them ; and if we could see them, as God
does, in all their extent and at once, we would behold the lesser joined
to the greater, the most remote connected with the primary, by neces¬
sary and indissoluble links, and all together conspiring to form one
beautiful and harmonious and indivisible whole. Whatever God has
revealed we are bound to receive and hold fast; whatever he has
enjoined we are bound to obey ; and the liberty which we dare not
arrogate to ourselves we cannot give to others. It is not, indeed, neces-
I sary that the confession or testimony of the church (meaning by this
I that which is explicitly made by her, as distinguished from her declared
I adherence to the whole Word of God) should contain all truths ; but
' then any of them may come to be included in it, when opposed and
J endangered ; and it is no sufficient reason for excluding any of them
I that they are less important than others, or that they have been doubted
and denied by good and learned men. Whatever forbearance may be
i exercised to persons, “ the word of the Lord,” in all its extent, “ must
! have free course and be glorified ; ” and any act of men — call it for-
‘ bearance or what you will — which serves as a screen or protection to
error or sin, and prevents it from being opposed and removed by any

tion. Others, aware of what has been urged for security’s sake, they would add a few
against it, choose to substitute the word other articles to the fundamental. But what
fundamental in the room of essential ; and, the one or the other are they do not tell.

176

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

proper means, is contrary to the divine law, and consequently is desti¬
tute of all intrinsic force and validity. There are truths also which are
more immediately connected with salvation. But who will pretend to
fix those propositions which are absolutely necessary to be known, in
order to salvation^ — by all persons— of all capacities — and in all situa¬
tions ; or say how low a God of grace and salvation may descend in
dealing with particular individuals 1 Or, if we could determine this
extreme point, who would say that it ought to fix the rule of our deal¬
ing with others, or the extent of a church’s profession of faith 1 Is
nothing else to be kept in view in settling articles of faith and fellow¬
ship, but what may be necessary to the salvation of sinners ? Do we
not owe a paramount regard to the glory of God in the highest, to the
edifying of the body of Christ, to the advancing of the general interests
of religion, and to the preserving, in purity, of those external means by
which, in the economy of providence and grace, the salvation of men,
both initial and progressive, may be promoted to an incalculable extent
from age to age ? In fine, there is reason for comjjlaining that the
criteria or marks given for determining these fundamental or necessary
articles, are uncertain or contradictory. Is it alleged that they are
clearly taught in Scripture ? This is true of others also. “ That they
are few and simple 1 ” This is contradicted by their own attempts to
state them. “ That they are such as the Scripture has declared to be
necessary 1 ” Why then have we not yet been furnished with a catalogue
of them? “ That they are such as are embraced by all true Christians ?”
Have they a secret tact by which they are able to discover such cha¬
racters 1 If not, can they avoid running into a vicious circle in reason¬
ing, by first determining who are time Christians by their embracing
certain doctrines, and then determining that these doctrines are funda¬
mental because they are embraced by persons of that description ?

Many who have contributed to give currency to this scheme have
been actuated, I have no doubt, by motives which are in themselves
highly commendable. They wished to fix the attention of men on
matters confessedly of great importance, and were anxious to put an
end to the dissensions of Christians by discovering a mean point in
which the views of all might harmoniously meet. But surely those who
cherish a supreme regard for divine authority will be afraid of contem¬
ning or of teaching others to think lightly of anything which bears its
sacred impress. They will be disposed carefully to reconsider an
opinion, or an interpretation of any part of Scripture, which seems to
imply in it, that God has given to men a power to dispense with some
of His own laws. And they will be cautious of originating or counte¬
nancing plans of communion that may involve a principle of such a
complexion. These plans are more or less dangerous according to the
extent to which they are carried, and the errors or abuses wliich may
prevail among the parties which they embrace. But however limited
they may be, they set an example which may be carried to any extent.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

177

So far as it is agreed and stipulated, that any truth or duty shall be
sacrificed or neglected, and that any error or sin shall be treated as
indilferent or trivial, the essence of latitudinarianism is adopted, room
is made for further advancements, and the way is prepared for ascend¬
ing, through successive gradations, to the very highest degree in the
cale.

Another plan of communion, apparently opposite to the former, but
proceeding on the same general principle, has been zealously recom¬
mended, and in some instances reduced to practice, in the present daj^
According to it, the several religious parties are allowed to remain sepa¬
rate, and to preserve their distinct constitution and peculiarities, while
a species of partial or occasional communion is established among
them. This plan is liable to all the objections that lie against the
former, with the addition of another which is peculiar to itself. It is
inconsistent and self-contradictory. It strikes against the radical prin¬
ciples of the unity of the church, and confirms schism by a law ; while
it provides that the parties shall remain separate, at the same time
that it proceeds on the supposition that there is no scriptural or con¬
scientious ground of difterence between them. By defending such
occasional conformity, English Dissenters at a former period contra¬
dicted the reasons of their dissent from the establishment, and exposed
themselves to their opponents : for where communion is lawful, it will
not be easy to vindicate separation from the charge of schism. The
world has for some time beheld annually the spectacle of Episcopalians,
Presbyterians, Independents, Methodists, and Seceders, sitting down
together at the Lord’s table, and then going away and maintaining com¬
munion, through the remainder of the year, on their own separate and
contradictory professions. Nay, it has of late become the practice to
keep, in the same church, an open communion-table for Christians of
different denominations on one part of the day, and a close one for
those of a particular sect on the other part of the day ; while the same
minister officiates, and many individuals communicate, on both these
occasions. And all this is cried up as a proof of liberality, and a mind
that has freed itself from the trammels of party ! ^

1 In America, “ A plan of Brotherly Cor- sure in the one church are not to he received
respondence” has recently been agreed to into the other. The members of presby-
between the General Assembly of the Pres- teries and synods of one of the churches
byterian Church and the General Synod of may be invited to sit as corresponding mem-
the Associate Reformed Church. The first bers of the same judicatories of the other :
article of agreement is, “The churches are but if not invited, they must not be offended,
to remain entirely separate and iudepend- And a minister or elder from each of the
ent.” By the remaining articles it is pro- supreme judicatories shall sit in tlie other,
vided, that members of either church may but without a vote.

be admitted to communion with the other; Though I consider this plan as obnoxious
and that the officers in any congregation of to the censures in the text, I would not be
either church, may invite to their pulpit understood as condemning all intercourse or
any minister or probationer in the other, correspondence between separate churches.
“ who preaches in their purity the great On the contrary, I think that in some in¬
doctrines of the Gospel, as they are stated stances it may be of great utility, for paving
in the common Confession of Faith, and the way for the removing of subsisting dif-
have generally been received and taught in ferences, and preventing or remedying of-
the Reformed Churches.” Those under cen- fences, hurtful to the general interests of

178

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH.

It is difficult to say which of these plans is most objectionable. By
the former, that church which is most faithful, and has made the
greatest progress in reformation, must always be the loser, without
having the satisfaction to think that she has conveyed any benefit to
her new associates ; it behoves her profession and managements to yield,
and be reduced to the standard of those societies which are defective
and less reformed ; and thus, by a process opposite to that mentioned
by the apostle, those who have built on the foundation “ gold, silver,
precious stones,” are the persons who shall “ suffer loss.” By the latter,
all the good effects which might be expected from warrantable and
necessary separations are lost, without the compensation of a rational
and effective conjunction ; purity of communion is endangered ; persons
are encouraged to continue in connection with the most corrupt
churches ; and a faithful testimony against errors and abuses, with all
consistent attempts to have them removed or prevented, is held up to
odium and reproach, as dictated by bigotry, and as tending to revive old
dissensions, and to defeat the delightful prospect of those halcyon days
of peace which are anticipated under the reign of mutual forbearance
and charity.

5. We may learn from this subject what is the temper ^of mind which
becomes Christians in a time of abounding divisions in the church, and
what are the qualities required in those who attempt to heal them. All
have it in their power to contribute, in some degree, to the promoting
of this work, and therefore ought to cherish the dispositions which
correspond to it ; although this is in a more eminent manner the duty
of such as possess superior influence, or who, from their station, may
be called to take a leading part in the negotiations. And here I do not
hesitate to name, as the primary qualification — an inviolable love to
truth and supreme regard to divine authority. That person is totally
disqualified for being a negotiator, or for acting the most subordinate
part in such a sacred treaty, whose pulse does not beat high with this
honourable and divine feeling. He will betray those interests which
are in themselves the highest, and ought to be the dearest to all parties,
whenever they are found irreconcilable with the attainment of an infe¬
rior object which he is determined to gain. When genuine, and pure,
and enlightened, the feeling which we are recommending, so far from
obstructing, as is often mistakingly imagined, will greatly facilitate and
forward any negotiation to which a good man would wish success. —
The next place is due to — a pacific disposition. He who has said,
‘‘ Love the truth and peace,” intended to teach us, what we are some¬
times disposed to disbelieve, that a regard to the former is not incom¬
patible with a regard to the latter. In settling religious differences, the
nice and difficult task is, to find out a way by which to adjust the
claims of the two — to “ seek peace and ensue it,” without “ erring from

religion, wliicli may arise from the manage- ing into communion of those who have fled
ments of either i)arty ; such as, the receiv- from discipline in the other.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

179

the truth ; ” and who so fit for this as “ the peaceable and faithful in
Israel,” who are endued with “ the wisdom that is first pure, then peace¬
able, gentle, and easy to be entreated 1” ^ If in any, surely in religious
contests the maxim should be constantly kept in mind, the end of all
war is peace. He is not a good Christian who does not sigh for it in
the heat of the conflict, who does not court it in the moment of victory,
who does not enjoy a triumph in sounding the trumpet which shall
“ bid the people return from following their brethren.” ^ The man who
loves to live in the fire of contention, who feeds on debate and contro¬
versy, whose thoughts are never turned to peace, but are “like the
troubled sea, when it cannot rest, ■whose waters cast up mire and dirt,”
who is prepared to contest every point of common order as if it con¬
cerned the common salvation, is ever ready with his dissent, backed
with its many reasons, against any ordinary measure which may not
have obtained the sanction of his siiperior wisdom, and who flies off as
soon as he finds that he cannot obtain his will in all things — this man
is unfit for religious society, and though he may pretend to a zeal for
God and religion, his zeal, like Iris wisdom, is not from above. — Chris¬
tian candour is another quality which is requisite. This displays itself
in an openness of mind to con-vdction, a readiness to hear whatever may
be advanced, a disposition to give and receive explanations, and to pay
all becoming deference not only to the reasons, but also to the difficulties
and scruples of brethren on the points of difference, and to relieve these
so far as may be practicable, safe, and consistent with public duty. It
is also opposed to concealment, dissimulation, and all tlie crooked arts
by which worldly politicians conduct their negotiations, and endeavour
to obtain the best terms for their constituents. Far from those who
engage in this holy work be all such Italian and Romish stratagems !
Every one ought to speak the truth to his neighbour as he thinketh,
■without equivocation or mental reservation : there ought to be no
masked proposals — no ambiguous declarations — no secret articles — no
understood agreement among leaders — no imposition on the credulity
or the confidence of the Christian people. Genuine and unaffected
candour has a powerful influence in inducing persons to persevere in a
treaty when there may be great difficulties in the way of bringing it to
a happy termination ; whereas duplicity and art excite jealousy in the
breasts of the intelligent, and if successfully practised, lay a foundation
for future repentance and disquiet. — The gift of knowledge and wisdom
is requisite. This work requires a union of the qualities of the men of
Zebulon and Naphtali who came to David, “ to turn the kingdom of
Saul to him according to the word of the Lord they were “ not of a
double heart,” and they “ had understanding of the times to know what
Israel ought to do.” ^ That dexterity and knowledge of mankind which
qualifies some indi^nduals for settling ordinary disputes about the things
of this life or in the church, will avail little in the work of which we

1 2 Sam. XX. 19 ; James, iii. 17. ^ 2 Sam. ii. 26. ® 1 Chron. xii.

180

THE UlSIITY OF THE CHURCH.

speak. It requires an accurate acquaintance with the subjects of dis¬
pute in all their bearings — of the signs of the times, their duties, sins,
and dangers, — of the real character and dispositions of the parties, and
other circumstances which may go to determine the call we have to
engage in such an undertaking, or to persevere in it not to mention
an acquaintance with attempts of the same kind which have been made
in former periods, with the effects which they produced, or the causes
of their ill success. — Lastly, a public and disinterested spirit is indis¬
pensably requisite. Those individuals whom God has raised up in
different ages to “ do good to Zion in his good pleasure,” have been
eminently endued with this disposition. Such was Moses, who showed
himself fit for composing the strife of his afflicted brethren, when he
“ refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter ; ” and proved him¬
self worthy of “ standing in the breach to turn away God’s anger ” from
Israel, when he magnanimously declined the offer of Heaven to “ make
of him a great nation.” Such also was Paul, who not only “ became
all things to all men,” and “a servant to all,” in things lawful and
indifferent, but “could wish himself accursed from Christ for his
brethren.” There are no sacrifices which are in their power, which
persons of this spirit will not be disposed to make for accomplishing so
good and great a design — their worldly interests, their reputation and
honour, their station in the church of God, provided it prove an
obstacle, they will cheerfully relinquish and lay at the feet of their
brethren.

If these dispositions were more generally and more strongly displayed,
there would be no ground for despairing of the abolition of many of our
religious differences. Some of them no doubt imply a diversity of views
so radical and extensive that it would be unreasonable to look for their
speedy removal. But the cure of others may be said to be more within
our own power. In vindication of the perspicuity of the Scriptures,
and of the certainty of the standard of religion, it ought to be acknow¬
ledged that we often err from the path of duty, not so much because
we cannot discover it, as because we are averse to it. “ The light of
the body is the eye : if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full
of light.” ^ If those who were once united had been true to their light
and single' in their aims ; if they had lived together as became brethren ;
if they had been at one as to the ends of their Christian profession, and
continued resolved, through grace, to prosecute them, “ notwithstanding
of whatever trouble or persecution they might meet with in essaying
the faithful discharge of their duty,” fewer differences would have
arisen among them, and these would have been more easily composed
in the spirit of the Gospel : “ Whereunto they had attained they would
have walked by the same rule, they would have minded the same
things ; and if in anything they were otherwise minded, God would
have revealed even this unto them.” ^ When we are brought to a proper

1 Mattb. vi. 22. 2 phibp. iii. 15, 16.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH. 181

sense of the causes of our “ divisions and offences,” the cure of them
will be more than half effected.

In fine, I would improve this subject for warning you against a
twofold extreme into which persons are apt to run with respect to the
present movements towards union. Beware of indifference to the object
itself, or to any scriptural means for attaining it. You are under the
strongest obligations, not only to “pray for the peace of Jerusalem,”
but also to be “ workers together with God,” who has promised to
bestow this blessing. If others err by allowing this object to engross
their attention, this will not excuse your lukewarmness, or your refusal
to do what may be in your power, in your place and station, for pro¬
moting it in any degree. Hard-hearted must he be who can look un¬
moved on the wounds of the church, or pass by, like the priest and
Levite in the parable, without feeling disposed to provide and pour in
the healing oil and balm. It would be strange and unnatural indeed,
if any son of Zion should rejoice in her trouble, and take pleasure in
beholding perpetual strife and violence in the city of God, instead of
seeing it a peaceful habitation. If a true Christian is unavoidably
placed in a scene of confusion, he will sigh and pray for deliverance
from it ; and if conscience and the duty which he owes to God require him
to say or do what may prove the occasion of disturbance or of alienating
him from the affections of his brethren, he will sympathise deeply with the
plaintive prophet, when he feelingly exclaims ; “Woe is me, my mother,
that thou hast born me a man of strife and a man of contention to the
whole earth ! I have neither lent on usury, nor men have lent to me
on usury ; yet every one of them doth curse me.” i No wonder that
attempts to heal divisions have been made, proposals of conciliation
started, and plans of union concerted, in almost every age. The import¬
ance of the design might warrant them ; and though they may not
always have been in themselves proper or admissible, nor attended
with success, yet the movers may deserve the praise and receive the
blessing of peacemakers, so far as they singly intended and sincerely
prosecuted an end confessedly laudable. Every person of right feeling
will be disposed to construe charitably, and to censure with lenity, some
errors and miscarriages which may be committed in the management of
such attempts ; provided no selfish interest or dishonest snare lurk
under the mask of conciliation, and provided the plans do not evidently
tend to produce other evils, greater than those which they propose to
remedy.

It is no less necessary to warn you, on the other hand, against being
ensnared by fair and plausible schemes of union. Remember that the
Spirit of Error takes an active part in the unions as well as in the
divisions of Christians ; and be not ignorant of his devices. Of old he
deceived the people of God by raising the cry of Peace, peace ; and so
successful has he found this stratagem, that he has ever since had

1 Jer. XV. 10.

182

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

recourse to it at intervals. There is a rage for peace as well as for conten¬
tion, and men otherwise wise and good have been seized by it as well
as the giddy multitude. If religion has sufiered from merciless polemics
and cruel dividers, history shows that it has suffered no less from the
false lenity and unskilful arts of pretended physicians — the motley
tribe of those who have assumed the name of reconcilers. They will
say that they have no intention to injure the truth ; but it is your duty
carefully to examine the tendency of their proposals, and not to suffer
yourselves to be caught with “ good words and fair speeches.” Have
nothing to do with those plans of agreement, in which the corner-stone
is not laid in a sacred regard to all that is sanctioned by the authority
of your Lord. Beware of all such coalitions as would require you to
desert a faithful and necessary testimony for the truths and laws of
Christ, would call you back from prosecuting a just warfare against
any error or sin, would involve you in a breach of your lawful engage¬
ments, or prevent you from paying the vows you have made to God.
Keep in mind that there are duties incumbent on you beside that of fol¬
lowing peace. Violate not “ the brotherly covenant ” by which you
may be already bound to walk with your fellow-Christians in a holy
and good profession, from a fond and passionate desire of forming new
connections. Throw not rashly away a present and known good for
the prospect of a greater which i» uncertain and contingent ; and do
not suffer your minds to be diverted from the ordinary duties of your
Christian vocation, by engaging in extraordinary undertakings, while
the call to these is not clear, and you have not good ground to depend
on God for that extraordinary aid which is required in prosecuting them.

The text on which we have been discoursing, my friends, and others
of the same kind in the sacred volume, will, if rightly improved, keep
you from this as well as the former extreme. If your hearts are estab¬
lished by a firm persuasion that God wiU, according to His promise and
in His own time, restore unity and peace to His church, you will be kept
equally from negligence and impatience, from indifference and precipi¬
tation. “ Against hope you will believe in hope, that it shall be as God
has said ; ” but you will “ not make haste,” nor have recourse to any
improper means for obtaining the blessing. He knows to choose the
best season for begmning and completing the work. We may think
Him remiss and slack in performing His promises, weary at His delays,
attempt to anticipate Him with unbelieving and impatient haste, or tempt
Him by saying presumptuously, “ Let him make speed, and hasten his
work, that we may see it ! and let the counsel of the Holy One of Israel
draw nigh and come, that we may know it ! ” ^ The check which our
Saviour imposed on His disciples is needful here : “ My time is not yet
come ; but your time is always ready.” ^ He has ends, wise, important,
and every way worthy of Himself, to serve by permitting the continuance
as well as the entrance of divisions. Divine truth must be cleared and

1 Isa. V. 19. 2 John, vii. 6.

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

183

purified from every foreign admixture by its being submitted to the
ordeal of keen controversy. The faithfulness of its professed friends
must be tried ; the hypocrisy of false disciples detected ; and the igno¬
rance, imperfection, and mistakes which cleave to the best discovered.
God must be glorified by preserving the cause of religion in the world,
not only in opposition to its open enemies, but also amidst all the dis¬
sensions and rivalships and deadly feuds which prevail among its pro¬
fessed friends. When these and similar objects have been accomplished.
He will “hasten his word to perform it.” Having begun the good
work. He will not draw back His hand until He has “ finished it in
righteousness.”

Are there any who, when they hear of the future uniting of all
Christians in profession, affection, and practice, are disposed to receive
the intimation with a smile of incredulity, to treat the prospect as
visionary, and to exclaim, “ How can these things be 1 Will God create
a new race on the earth 1 Will He give a new structure to the minds
of men 1 Will they not continue to think and act about religion as
they have done from the beginning until now 1 ” Hear the word of the
Lord, ye scornful men : Is it a small matter for you to weary men, will
ye weary my God also ? Hath He not said, “ I will give them one heart
and one way, that they may fear me 1 ” And will He not do it ? Let
God be true, and every man a liar. When the time comes, the time
which He hath set for accomplishing His promise. He shall arise, and
every difficulty and every obstruction shall give way before Him and
vanish at His approach. Do you ask a sign 1 Do you ask it in the
heaven above ? It is He that “ binds the sweet influences of Pleiades,
and looses the ” frozen “bands of Orion — and guides Arcturus \vith his
sons.” ^ Do you ask it in the earth beneath 1 “ The wolf also shall
dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and
the calf and the young lion and the fatling together ; and a little child
shall lead them ; — for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the
Lord, as the waters cover the sea.” ^ The Infinite One has, in His faith¬
ful word, pledged all His perfections for the accomplishment of this work.
What resistance can be opposed to infinite power, put in motion by in¬
finite love, and guided by infinite wisdom ? He can raise up instruments
properly qualified and disposed for promoting His design, guide their
counsels, animate them to constancy and perseverance, and finally
crown all their exertions with the wished-for success. He has the
hearts of aU men in His hand, and can turn them like the waters in an
aqueduct. He can rebuke the spirit of error and delusion, “ cause the
prophets and the unclean spirit to pass out of the land,” and remove and
abolish all things that offend in His kingdom. He can subdue the most
stubborn and inveterate prejudices, allay the fiercest heats and ani¬
mosities, convert jealousies into confidence, and hatred into love, and
having “ made the wrath of man to praise him ” by accomplishing His
purposes, can “ restrain the remainder thereof.”

1 Job, xxxviii. 31, 32.

2 Isa. xi. 5, 9.

184

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

Who is among you that feareth the Lord, and obeyeth the voice of
His servant, who walketh in darkness and hath no light as to the
removal or abatement of the melancholy divisions of the church 1 Let
him plant his faith firmly on the promises of Jehovah, and stay himself
on His perfections. Say with the prophet Jeremiah, in a similar case,
“ Ah, Lord God ! behold thou hast made the heaven and the earth by
thy great power ; and there is nothing too hard for thee ; the Great,
the Mighty God, the Lord of Hosts is his name : Great in counsel, and
mighty in work.”^ Place yourself in spirit in the midst of the emble¬
matical valley into which Ezekiel was carried, and say, God who raiseth
the dead can easily do this. Rivers, deep and broad, seas, noisy and
tempestuous, “ on which no galley with oars can go, neither gallant ship
ride,” have disparted the territories which the God of heaven hath
given to his Son, and prevented the intercourse of His subjects. But He
“ shall utterly destroy the tongue of the Egyptian sea ; and with his
mighty wind shall he shake his hand over the river, and smite it in the
seven streams thereof, and make men go over dry-shod. And there
shall be a highway for the remnant of his people ; like as it was to
Israel in the day that he came up out of the land of Egypt.” ^ Brazen
“ mountains of separation ” may stand in the way of this desirable
event. But the resistance which they oppose to it shall be overcome,
not according to the confused plan of modern projectors, by throwing a
scaffolding over them, by which those who have reared altars on their
tops may hold occasional intercourse and partial communion ; but in
a way becoming the New Testament Zerubbabel, The Disperser of Con¬
fusion. When he rends the heavens and comes down to do things which
we looked not for, “ the mountains shall flow down at his presence.” ^
Those separations which have been of most ancient date, and which
threatened to last for ever, shall yield to His power. “ The everlasting
mountains shall be scattered, the perpetual hills shall bow ” before Him
whose “ways are everlasting.”'* If there shall be one that has reared its
head above all the rest, and makes a more formidable resistance, it also
shall crumble down and disappear : “Who art thou, 0 great mountain?
before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain.” ® Then shall the mountain
on which the house of God is built be established on the top of the
mountains, and exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow
to it. And He will rebuke and repress the envious risings of its proudest
rival. “ A hill of God is the hill of Bashan ; a high hill is the hill of
Bashan. But why lift ye up yourselves, ye high hills ? This (Zion) is
the hill which God desireth to dwell in ; yea, the Lord will dwell in it
for ever.” ®

May God fulfil these promises in due time ; and unto Him be glory
in the church by Christ Jesus, throughout all ages, world without end.
Amen.

1 Jer. xxxii. 17—19.

3 Isa. Ixiv. 1. < Hab. iii. 6.

2 Isa. xi. 15, 16.

6 Ps. Ixviii. 15, 16.

6 Zech. iv. 7.

APPENDIX.

A Short View of the Plan op Religious Reformation and Union
ADOPTED originally BY THE SECESSION.

The Bible is the great repository of divine truth, and standard of what is to
be believed and practised in religion. It is the duty of the church to bring
forth the sacred treasure, to circulate it, and to preserve any part of it from
being lost, debased, or deteriorated. Ever since the completing of the canon
of Scripture, it has been the work of Christians, individually and as associated,
to make profession of the faith once delivered to the saints,” and “ earnestly
to contend ” for it, in opposition to all attempts to destroy its purity or defeat
its influence. That society whose religious profession is not founded on and
conformable to the Scriptures, can have no claim to be considered as “ the
house of the living God.” But while the matter, as well as the ground, of the
church’s profession is properly speaking divine, the acts and modes of profess¬
ing and maintaining it are necessarily human. When false and corrupt views
of Christianity become general, it is necessary that confessions of the tinith in
opposition to them be embodied in formal and written documents, which may
be known and read by all men. Vox emissa perit : litera scripta manet. It is
not enough that Christians confess their faith individually ; to comply with
divine commands, to answer to their character as church members, and the
better to gain the ends in view, it is requisite that they make a joint and
common confession. When the truths contained in the word of God have
been explicitly stated and declared, in opposition to existing errors, by the
proper authority in a church, an approbation of such statements and declara¬
tions may be required, as a test of soundness in the faith and of Christian
fidelity, without any unwarrantable imposition on conscience, or the most
distant reflection on the perfection of Scripture. The same arguments which
justify the use of creeds and confessions will also justify particular declara¬
tions or testimonies directed against errors and corruptions prevailing in
churches which still retain scriptural formularies. Those who allow the
former cannot consistently condemn the latter. It is not suflicient to entitle
persons to the character of faithful witnesses of Christ, that they profess a
general adherence to the Bible or a sound confession of faith, provided they
refuse or decline to direct and apply these seasonably against present evils.
It might as well be said that the soldier has acquitted himself well in a
battle, because he had excellent armour lying in a magazine, or a sword

186

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

hanging by his side, although he never brought forth the armour nor drew
his sword from its scabbard. The means alluded to are the unsheathing
of the sword and the wielding of the armour of the church. So far from set¬
ting aside the authority of Scripture, they are necessary for keeping a sense of
it alive on the spirits of men, and for declaring the joint views and animating
the combined endeavours of those who adhere to it. By explaining and
applying a rule, we do not add to it, nor do we detract from its authoi’ity.

True religion, intrinsically considered, is neither variable nor local. Chris¬
tianity is the same now that it was eighteen hundred years ago ; it is the same
in America or Otaheite as in Britain. But this is not inconsistent with
varieties in the profession made of it in different ages and countries. The
attack is not always made on it from the same quarter, nor directed against
the same point. This must regulate the faithful contendings of the church ;
and accordingly her testimony, though ever substantially the same, has been
greatly diversified in respect of its form and direction ; just as a river in its
long-continued course assumes different appearances, winds in several directions,
and is seen running sometimes in a naiTower and at other times in a more ex¬
tensive channel. In the New Testament we meet with frequent references to
the circumstances in which the churches were placed among the adherents of
Judaism or of Pagan idolatry, as serving to point out and determine the peculiar
duties, dangers, and temptations of Christians. The instructions, warnings, and
reproofs, contained in the epistles which the apostles addressed primarily to cer¬
tain churches and individuals, bear directly on their respective circumstances,
and are intermingled with numerous references to fac^s on which they were
founded. Certain classes of false teachers and evil workers are specified ; and
individuals are mentioned by name, both those who had deserved well of the
church by their faithfulness and important services, and those who, by their
opposition to the Gospel and propagating of false doctrine, had incurred public
censure or justly exposed themselves to it. In the letters sent to the seven
Asian churches, our Lord intimates that he took notice and judged of the con¬
duct of each according to its particular and local circumstances, and not
merely in reference to duties and trials common to all. “ I know thy works,
and where thou dwellest.” The church of Ephesus is praised because she
“ could not bear them that were evil,” had tried and convicted certain persons
who “ said they were apostles and were not,” and had testified her hatred to
“ the deeds of the Nicolaitans.” While the church of Pergamos is blamed for
retaining in her communion “ them that held the doctrine of Balaam and of
the Nicolaitans,” she is commended by Christ, because she had “ held fast his
name and not denied his faith, even in those days wherein Antipas was his faith¬
ful martyr, who was slain among them.” There are peculiar obligations which
Christians are subjected to by their birth and lot in the world ; and then, and
then only, can they be said to act a faithful part, when they endeavour to dis¬
charge their duty in all its extent according to their actual and relative situa¬
tion. So far is it from being true, in this respect, that a religious profession
ought to be disencumbered of all localities or references to the facts of a jDarti-
cular period or country, that, on the contrary, its due and seasonable applica¬
tion to these is a test of its faithfulness.

At the happy era of the Reformation, many of the grosser corruptions which
had grown during the long-continued defection which had preceded, were
removed in several countries : and in some of these, particularly in Scotland,

APPENDIX.

187

religion was settled on a scriptural basis and in great purity. Had reforma¬
tion been at its height in all the Protestant churches, or had that which was
attained in some of them been placed beyond the danger of being changed or
relinquished, there would have been no need for testimonies or contendiugs in
the way of separation from them. Few will pretend that this is the case. In
the constitutions of some of these churches the features of the Man of Sin are
but too visible, and those of them that were most renowned for beauty have
given evidence of their defectibility by actually falling into decay. To rectify
the one and recover the other, is a work which deserves the attention and
utmost endeavours of all who wish well to the interests of religion. And to
accomplish these ends in some degree within their sphere, was what those who
declared a Secession from the established Church of Scotland proposed by the
association which they formed, and avowed in the Testimony or Declaration
of their views and intentions which they published to the world. As their
object has been much misunderstood, and as mistaken, or narrow and partial
notions of it have been adopted, not only by their opponents, but also by not
a few of their professed friends, it may perhaps be of some use to take a
cursory view of it.

Some have represented Seceders as holding a set of religious principles
altogether peculiar to themselves, and have attempted, ignorantly or artfully,
to set these in opposition to the principles held in common by other Christians
and Protestants. Such a representation is groundless and injurious. Their
profession, while it rests on the ground common to all true Protestants, the
supreme authority of Scripture, embraces the general interests of Christianity,
and gives them their due place and importance. Whatever others, as Christians,
Pi’otestants, or Presbyterians, profess and glory in, they vindicate as theirs too,
and have embodied in their testimony. With I’espect to those things by which
they are distinguished, in principle or in practice, /rom other denominations of
Presbyterians, and which will be called their peculiarities, they plead that these
are either expressly warranted by the Word of God and the subordinate for¬
mularies of the Church of Scotland, or follow from them, as conclusions
from premises and corollaries from geometrical axioms. And they plead
further that these are, in different respects, necessary to the support and the
consistent maintenance of the other. On the contrary, some late partial
histoi’ians of the Secession have done injury to its cause in another way. In
order to present it in a point of view more attractive to the spirit of the
present age, or more congenial to their own sentiments, they have narrowed its
ground, thrown some of its prominent parts into shade, and fixed the attention
wholly on others, which, however important in the eyes of the founders of the
Secession, never occupied their entire and exclusive regards. The exertions
which they made in defence of the leading doctrines of the Gospel, and the
rights of the Christian people, are too well known to stand in need of empty
panegyric ; and those do little honour to their memory who deal in this, while
they disparage or throw a veil over their contendings in behalf of a great and
extensive cause of which these formed but a part.

When it appeared that there was no reasonable prospect of the grounds of
their separation being removed, and of their being able to return conscien¬
tiously into the bosom of the established church, the Seceding ministers found
it their duty to dispense divine ordinances to those through the country who
laboured under the same grievances with themselves. But they did not act

188

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

on the limited principle, afterwards adopted by another society, of merely
affording relief to those who felt galled and oppressed by the yoke of Patron¬
age ; nor did they think that they could discharge the duty which, as ministers
of Christ and of the Church of Scotland, they owed to the existing and subse¬
quent generations, if they confined their endeavours to the promoting of what
immediately concerned the spiritual interests of those who might place them¬
selves under their ministerial and judicative inspection. They felt that there
was a public cause, and more general and extensive interests, which had a
claim upon them. They, along with the people adhering to them, had for a
series of years been testifying, in communion with the established church,
against a variety of evils deeply affecting the interests of religion, or, as they
express it in their Deed of Secession, “a course of defection from our reformed
and covenanted principles.” Finding themselves now placed in a new situa¬
tion, and in the possession of greater liberty than they had formerly enjoyed ;
looking around them on the religious state of the church and nation with
which they were connected ; and taking into serious consideration the mani¬
fold obligations under which they lay, they judged themselves called, “ in the
course of sovereign and holy Providence, to essay the revival of reformation,”
and to employ all the means competent to them for advancing this work. In
prosecution of this design they published their Judicial Testimony and other
ofiicial papers, settled the terms of their communion, and regulated their pub¬
lic managements.

The object proposed by the founders of this association was of a precise and
definite kind. As they did not push themselves forward, nor put their hand
to a work of such difficulty, without being satisfied of the call which they had
to engage in it, nor propose to do more for its advancement than Providence
might put in their power, and lay within their sphere as an ecclesiastical body ;
so they did not conceal the objects which they aimed at, nor leave the world
in any doubt as to their nature and extent. It was a specific reformation which
they proposed. They did not come forward in the suspicious character of
general reformers, who would not avow what they intended to pull down, and
did not know what they would build up in its room ; they did not plan a
reform according to a scheme of pi’inciples of their own ; nor was it their
object to overturn that church which had lately driven them from its com¬
munion. But they appeared as a part of the Church of Scotland, adhering to
her reformed constitution, testifying against the injuries which it had received,
seeking the redress of these, and pleading for the revival of a I’eformation,
attained, according to the Word of God, in a former period, approved by every
authority in the land, and ratified by solemn vows to the Most High. With¬
out right views of this Reformation it is impossible to understand the Secession
Testimony ; and disaffection to the former, in proportion to the degree in which
it prevails, necessarily implies a dereliction of the latter.

The same principles which led our fathers in Scotland to free themselves
from the tyranny and corruptions of Rome, induced their successors to cast off
the imposed yoke of a Protestant hierarchy, and to rid themselves of the
abuses which it had brought along with it. When they associated for this pur¬
pose, they needed only to renew the covenant by which popery had been first
abjured, with a few slight explications and accommodations of its language to
their existing circumstances. It is not, therefore, needful for me to go farther
back than the Second Reformation, as it is usually called, which took place

APPENDIX.

189

between the year 1638 and 1650, and which embodied, in its proceedings and
settlement, all the valuable attainments of the First Reformation, and carried
them to a greater extent. These included summarily, — the revival of the
purity of doctrine, which had been corrupted by Popish errors introduced
under the new garb of Arminianism — of the purity of worship, which had
been depraved by the imposition of foreign rites and ceremonies — and of the
government, discipline, and liberties of the church, which had been supplanted
and overthrown by royal supremacy and the usurpations of prelacy.

But the most important and discriminating feature of this period was the
extension of the Reformation to England and Ireland. It is well-known that
religion was very imperfectly reformed in the first as well as in the last of these
countries, and that many Popish abuses and corruptions were allowed to
remain in its worship and government. These defects had been all along com¬
plained of by the best English Protestants, who often sighed for the purity and
freedom of religion enjoyed by their neighbours. The growing oppression of
the ecclesiastical courts, the religious innovations tending to pave the way for
peace with Rome, and the invasions on the civil liberties of the nation during
the early administration of Charles I., inflamed these complaints and wishes,
and communicated them to the greater and better part of that kingdom.
The struggle which ensued between the friends of reformation and liberty
on the one hand, and an arbitrary and popishly -affected court on the
other, led to the formation of the famous Solemn League, which had for its
principal and leading object the preservation of the reformed religion iu
Scotland, the reformation of religion in England and Ireland, and the bringing
of the churches in the three kingdoms to the nearest conjunction and unifor¬
mity in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government. From this time the
Reformation in Scotland, England, and Ireland was combined, and whatever
may since have been its actual fate in any of these countries, its true and
enlightened friends have never ceased to regard it as one common object of
interest, and, so far as it was in their power to promote it, of endeavour and
exertion. The steps taken to fulfil these sacred stipulations, the progress made
in the work, and the causes of its being interrupted in England, endangered in
Scotland, and at last perfidiously overthrown in the three kingdoms, are known
to all who are not utter strangers to the most interesting and eventful period
of the history of Britain.

The work of which we speak was properly one — a reformation of religion ;
although we usually speak of it as ecclesiastical and civil, in respect of the
two authorities engaged in carrying it on. The Ecclesiastical Reformation in
Scotland consisted of what was done by the judicatories of the church, to
whom it belonged directly and properly to set in order the house of God, and
to correct what was amiss in religious profession or practice. This includes
the condemning of the Episcopal innovations and abuses, the reviving of the
Presbyterian worship and dicipline, and in general the raising up of the ancient
constitution of the church from the rubbish in which it had been buried for
many years ; all of which was preceded by the renewing of the National Cove¬
nant. It includes also the encouragement given by the General Assembly to the
proposals of union with England and Ireland, their forming and promoting of
the Solemn League and Covenant, sending of commissioners to the Assembly
of Divines at Westminster, receiving and approving of the formularies agreed
on by that Assembly, and proceeding to act on them as subordinate standards

190

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

of that religious unity and conjunction between the churches in the three
kingdoms which they had sworn to promote. The Civil Eeformation consists
in what was done by the civil authorities, within their sphere, and in co-opera¬
tion with the ecclesiastical judicatories, for advancing the same cause. This
includes what was done by the Parliament, or the Convention of Estates, in
Scotland (not to speak at present of the Parliament of England), in abolishing
Episcopacy, legalising what the church had done in the revival of presbytery,
entering into and prosecuting the ends of the League with England and
Ireland, sanctioning the standards of uniformity, ratifying the liberties of the
church and abohshing patronage, reforming places of power and trust, and
settling the constitutional laws of the kingdom in such a way as to secure the
reformation which had been attained.

When Seceders, in their Testimony and other public papers, speak of our
Civil Reformation, they do not mean a reform objectively civil, or which
embraced objects which were purely civil and political. They express an ap¬
probation of the struggles of our ancestors in behalf of civil liberty, which,
indeed, was at that period closely and inseparably connected with religion.
But they were aware that it was incompetent for them as a religious body to
bear a testimony in favour of a particular form of civil government, or of
certain laws as contributing most to the political welfare of a people. They
can be understood only as referring to civil laws and managements, so far as
they had religion for their object, or as they affected and were in one way or
another connected with its interests, by contributing to its advancement or
security. And in the same sense must we understand them, when they con¬
demn the political settlement by which the reformation was overturned, or
particular parts of the existing constitution and laws. Viewed in this light, an
approbation of “ our ancient Civil Reformation,” and a disapprobation of “ our
present civil deformation,” form a necessary and important branch of their
testimony and profession.^

1 Speaking of the Judicial Act and Testi¬
mony, the A.ssociate Presbytery say, in their
Answers to Mr Nairn; “According to the
particular calls of Providence hitherto, that
Testimony, — was especially in favours of
our ancient ecclesiastical Reformation,; and
against those evils whereby the same hath
been, in a great measure, departed from and
overthrown : while a Testimony for our
ancient civil reformation, — and against these
evils whereby the same hath been, in a
great measure, deviated from and destroyed ;
was lifted up, and all along carried forward.

But at this time the Presbytery have a
particular call of Providence, — to bear wit¬
ness more especially unto our ancient civil
reformation.” Having laid down in general
the principles on which such a reformation
rests, they proceed to say: “Agreeably
unto all this, the Deed of Civil Constitution
was set \ipon a reformed footing ; by Act
VIII., Pari. 1, James VI. Though the above
settlement was for some time followed by
suitable administration, yet a course of
lamentable defection and corruption therein
did soon prevail : ’Till a reviving of the true
religion and reformation in the church took
place, and was gloriously advanced betwixt
the years 1638 and 1650. That work of God,

which became then engaged unto through- I
out the three kingdoms by a Solemn League J
and Covenant, — was also, in an agreeable- 1
ness to this Covenant, accompanied with i
and supported by a civil reformation. In |
England (wherewith we have become more J
nearly concerned than formerly, by virtue K
of the Solemn League and Covenant), the I
civil administration was, in some valuable ■
instances, subservient unto the said work of f
God. But more considerable advances were J
made in Scotland : While, beside many laud- f
able acts in the civil administration, the J
deed of Civil Constitution was farther re- J'
formed than ever before ; by Act XV. of *
the second session of Parliament, anno 1649. f
And according unto this settlement was jf
King Charles 11. crowned at Scoou, Janu- J.
ary 1st 1651. -

“The Presbytery intend not to affirm, jf
that there was nothing defective in the '!
above managements ; or that no impru-
dencies or mistakes were to be found there- ■■
in. It is evident, however, that, by the
good hand of God, the Estates of England,
but more especially of Scotland, were in¬
spired with a noble and predominant zeal
for the House of God, in all its valuable in- ’
stitutions; and attained to a considerable ;

APPENDIX.

191

By the good hand of God upon her, Scotland attained to greater purity in
religion, and higher degrees of reformation, than any other protestant country.
It is the duty of one generation to declare the works of God to another, and no
people can depart from religious attainments without being deeply guilty. But
this is not all. In no nation has the true religion been so solemnly avouched
as in Scotland. Every important step taken in reformation was accompanied
with confessions, protestations, vows, covenants, and oaths, which were made
and subscribed by all ranks, voluntarily, cheerfully, joyfully, repeated on every
new emergency and call, and ratified by every authority in the land. Hence,
it has obtained the distinguishing name of the covenanted reformation ; and
under this view was it embraced by the associated body of Seceders, who, by
renewing these engagements in an oath adapted to the time and to their cir¬
cumstances as a church, served themselves heirs to the professions, vows, and
contendings of their fathers, or rather to the cause of God transmitted to them
by their fathers under all these sacred sanctions and solemnities.

It is of importance to distinguish between the reformation materially and
formally considered. The Westminster standards were not the reformation,
nor did they form any part of it farther than they were received and approved,
and than religion was reformed and settled according to them. We may
approve of the Confessions of the reformed church of France or of Helvetia,
or of Holland. In like manner persons may approve of the Westminster
standards, as to doctrine, worship, and church-government, and a religious
society may conduct its ecclesiastical affairs according to them ; and yet they
may not adopt or promote the covenanted reformation, properly and formally
considered. To adhere to these, since the reformation took place, is to adopt
them as a system of religion which is still entitled, both by divine and by
human right, to be professed and established in the three nations ; — to testify
against all proceedings prejudicial to it, and all laws introducing or maintain¬
ing another system, as what no friend of reformation, can bind himself actively
to support and countenance ; — and to hold that it is the duty of all classes to
endeavour, in their station and by all lawful means, to have the reformed and
Presbyterian religion publicly and legally settled, — and that from the consider¬
ation not only of the divine authority on which it rests and its intrinsic excel¬
lence, but also of the additional obligation arising from national oaths and
leagues, and the former attainments and laws of church and state, which are
still virtually pleadable, and in a moral point of view retain their force. Thus
formally was the covenanted reformation adopted and testified for by
Seceders.^ Hence the particularity with which they specified and condemned.

pitch of civil reformation, subservient unto
the same : All which this Presbytery desires,
with thankfulness, to commemorate and
bear witness unto. Upon the whole, it is
observable, that in Scotland, the reforma¬
tion of the church hath always, in a beauti¬
ful order, preceded and introduced the re¬
formation of the State.” Display of the
Secession Testimony, vol. i. pp. 27S, 281
—284.

1 “ The profession, defence, and mainte¬
nance of the true religion, in doctrine, wor¬
ship, discipline, and Presbyterial church-
government, agreeable unto and founded
upon the Word of God, — was secured by
the fundamental constitution of the civil

government in our reforming periods ; which
deed of constitution, in all moral respects, is
morally unalterable, — because of its agree¬
ableness to the divine will revealed in the
Word, and because it was attained to and
fixed in pursuance of our Solemn Cove¬
nants.” The Associate Presbytery’s An¬
swers to Mr Nairn, in Display, vol. i. p.
274. In the same paper, the Presbytery,
after deploring “ the fatal overthrow of
the former civil reformation ” at the Ee-
storation, and pointing out in what respects
the settlements at the Revolution and TJnion
were inconsistent with it, concludes thus :
“Upon the whole, it appears, that, under
the present constitution, a mighty bar is

192

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

in their judicial acts, the various steps of deviation from this cause in church
and in state. They condemned not only the series of wicked laws passed at the
Restoration, but also various evils in the Revolution settlement, and in the in¬
corporating Union, by the fundamental articles of which Scotland was “ more
deeply involved in perjury” by giving her consent to “the maintenance and
preservation of the hierarchy and ceremonies of the Church of England.” ’
Hence also the care with which they guarded against all professions or engage¬
ments which implied an approbation of these defections and of the united con¬
stitution. They evinced this by declining to swear the usual public oaths, at the
expense of relinquishing privileges to which they were otherwise entitled, and
of exposing themselves to the charge of disloyalty from those who were
ignorant of their principles or disposed to misrepresent them.^

This is the fair amount of their principles on this head, and what they never
sought to conceal from the beginning. But they, at the same time, denied
that any minority, and far less that they themselves, as an ecclesiastical body,
had any right to dictate laws to the nation. They reckoned that they did all
that was incumbent on them, when they gave information and warning, as they
were called from time to time, respecting public sins and duties, and when
they continued to promote religious reformation within their own sphere.
They did not stretch themselves beyond their line, nor suffer themselves to
be diverted, by the testimony which they bore against public evils, from oppos¬
ing those of a more private kind, and whose remedy lay more directly within
their reach ; nor did they, it is hoped, become indifferent about those ends
which ought to be kept immediately in view by every church of Christ — the
salvation of sinners, and building up of saints on their most holy faith. They
never judged that they had a call to address the throne or the legislature on
the subject of religion ; and they knew that no such change as they desired
can take place in the national profession and laws with regard to it, until a
previous ch.ange shall have been effected on the sentiments and inclinations of
the various orders of the people.®

I know that it has now become fashionable to discredit this work, and to
represent every appearance of attachment to it as a sure mark of bigotry, and a
mind weakly wedded to ancient prejudices, or, as some modishly express it, to
the relics of a barbarous age. To the most of our modem great pretenders to
religion the very name of a Covenanted Reformation is offensive and intolerable.
Many who would still fain speak well of it, look upon anything that was good
in it as of temporary interest, and quite unsuitable to our times ; while the
greater part of those who once appeared as its avowed and sworn friends, after
shrinking from the odium attached to it, and testifying their willingness to
divide the cause, appear now to be ashamed even to name it. But is there
any good reason for this 1 I may venture to assert, that if ever all that was
great and valuable to a people was concerned in any work, it was concerned in

thrust in the way of our covenanted refor¬
mation, both in church and state: yea, a
gi'avestone is laid and established on the
same.” Answers to Mr Nairn, in Display,
vot. i. p. 286.

1 Ibid. p. 285.

^ Ibid. p. 291. The inconsistency of an
unqualified approbation of the present con¬
stitution with adherence to a previous re¬
formation, is maintained by the Associ¬
ate Presbytery in that Public Deed, the

express design of which is to condemn
“ the dangerous extreme, which some
had gone into, of impugning the present
civil authority over these nations, and sub¬
jection thereunto in lawful commands, — on
account of the want of these qualifications
magistrates ought to have by the Word of
God and our covenants; even although they
allow us the free exercise of our religion, and
are not manifestly unhinging the liberties
of the kingdom.” » Ibid. p. 280.

APPENDIX.

193

that under our consideration. The design was nothing less than the advance¬
ment of true religion, in connection with libei’ty — of religion, in all its extent,
among individuals, families, and the public, and the providing, in the best
manner, for the continuance and perpetuity of it in the three kingdoms, that
unborn posterity might reap the fruits of the toil and travel and sufferings
of their fathers, and might live happily in peace and in the fear of God. It
proposed the correction of abuses which had long been matter of grievance ;
and the settlement of religion and church-order on scriptural principles and
agreeably to known and approved precedents, and not according to any
visionary, hazardous, or untried scheme. It was the effect of long and ardent
wishes, and of many prayers. The wisest and most godly in Britain, from the
commencement of the Reformation, had desired to see such a work, and hailed
it at a distance. Providence afforded an opportunity for engaging in it when it
was least expected, and for some time smiled on the attempt. Nor was it
overturned until the benefits to be expected from it were attested in the
experience of thousands, who till then had been almost total strangers to
Christianity.

Let sober thinkers only reflect for a moment, what advantages would have
ensued, if religion had been settled agreeably to the Solemn League and the
plan recommended by the Westminster Assembly; and if that settlement had
been allowed to stand. Of what benefit would it have been to England, if a
lordly hierarchy, together with a burdensome and unprofitable mass of human
rites and ceremonies, and an ignorant, idle, and scandalous clergy, had been
removed ; and if, in their place, an evangelical, pious, laborious, and regular
ministry had been settled in every parish, with elders to inspect the morals of
the people, and deacons to attend to the wants of the poor, under the superin¬
tendence of presbyteries and synods ! Would not this have proved of incal¬
culable advantage to that nation, in a religious, moral, and political point of
viewl Would it not have been a powerful check on the spread of error, the
increase of schism, and the prevalence of ignorance, profaneness, and vice!
Of what benefit might it not have been before this day to unhappy Ireland,
which has been perhaps more indebted to colonies from Scotland, and to the
religion imported by them, than to any boon it has received from England !
And would not great benefit have redounded from it to Scotland herself, whose
ecclesiastical constitution and liberties, as well as the religious principles and
habits of her people, have suffered so much formerly and of late, from her
intimate connection with a country in which a system opposite in various
respects to hers has been established 1 If there is any truth in the representa¬
tion now given, let me again ask. Is it not matter of the deepest regret that
this work should have been interrupted and overturned? That it continues
still buried? That an opposite system was reared on its grave, which has been
and still is productive of manifold evils ? Are not these national sins ? Is it
possible to fi’ee them from the high aggravation of perfidy, after the solemn
pledges that were publicly exchanged and ratified ? Is it not a great duty to
testify against these sins, and to seek a revival of that Reformation ? This is
what has been done by Seceders. If this forms their peculiarity, they have
reason to glory in, not to be ashamed of it ; and the only real disgrace which
they can incur is that which will attach to their withdrawing from the cause,
and deserting their good profession.

In considering this cause there are two things which are very commonly

194

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overlooked and •which merit particular attention. In the first place, it embraced
a plan of reUriious union. This 'was its avowed object. It was so from the
beginning, and was kept in eye through the whole progress of the work.
Reformation was a means to this end. It was indeed absolutely necessary to
the attainment of it. The corruptions retained in the English Church — the
hierarcliy, with its usurped claims, temporal and spiritual, the liturgy, the total
absence of all ecclesiastical discipline, a non-resident and non-preaching clergy,
the Arminian and Popish errors which they had patronised, — these, with
various abuses connected with them, had proved a source of continued discord
and division in England, had embroiled her with Scotland, and served as a wall
of partition between her and all foreign churches professing the same faith.
Until these evils were removed it was vain to look for union either at home or
abroad. The platform of reformation was so constructed as to promise the
accomplishment of this desirable object. The system of faith laid down in
the Confession and Catechisms "was substantially the same with what was
declared in the Confessions and Catechisms of all the reformed on the Con¬
tinent. The form of church-government was “according to the Word of God
and the example of the best reformed churches.” Public worship was set free
from the trammels of a formal and stinted liturgy, and at the same time duly
guarded by the Directory, which, while it “ held forth such things as are of
divine institution in every oi’dinance,” regulated others “ accoi’ding to the
rules of Christian pnidence, agreeable to the general rules of the Word of God,”
and gave such instructions to ministers as tended to produce “ a consent of all
the churches in those things that contain the substance of the service and
worship of God.” The more narrowly the proceedings of the Assembly which
prepared the model of religious reformation and uniformity are looked into,
the more, I am persuaded, will it appear, that, in the conclusions to which
they came (particularly on the controversies which arose at that time among
the friends of religion), they displayed a healing and moderate spirit, combined
with an enlightened regard to truth and the general welfare of the church,
which showed them to be uncommonly fitted for the great task which Pro¬
vidence assigned to them, and which has not been displayed in the same
degree by any assembly, extraordinary or ordinary, which the world has since
seen.

The second thing to which I alluded as meriting particular notice in this
work, is the extensive scale on which it was undertaken. Its object was not
only to reform and unite, but to reform religion and settle ixnity through three
kingdoms. Nor was this all. Though called more immediately to provide for
their own safety and to promote Christianity in that part of the world where
they dwelt, those who embarked in it did not confine their views to this
object. They had before their eyes the security of “ the true religion and pro¬
fessors thereof in all places,” the forming of an association among “other
Christian churches,” and in general “ the enlargement of the kingdom of Jesus
Christ.” These ends, expressed in their solemn bond of confederation, were
never lost sight of in the prosecution of their undertaking. Theirs was no
narrow', contracted, or sectarian plan. On the contrary, it was one of their
principal objects, in all that they did, to testify their charity and conformity
to all the reformed churches, to abolish those restrictions which had prevented
free intercourse with them, and to secure union, communion, and co-operation
with them upon the great principles of Christianity and Protestantism.

APPENDIX.

195

Under botli of these important views was the Reformation adopted by
Seceders. In publishing their Testimony, their language on the matter was :
“We have no peculiar principles: we abide by and declare our adherence to
those hooks which are still professedly owned by the national Church of Scot¬
land, and which were agreed on as the standards of religious uniformity in
the three nations ; we are willing to hold communion with all who shall be
found consistently adhering to these ; and to them, as a subordinate test, we
are ready to submit the decision of every point which forms the subject of
dispute and controversy between us and others.” The same language all true
adherents to the cause of the Reformation still continue to hold. The same
offers they still make. In vindicating their Secession, and stating its grounds,
they were necessarily led to give greater prominence to the state of religion in
Scotland, and to their contendings with the judicatories of that church with
which they had been intimately connected. But they did not allow these to
engross their regard. They considered it as a high duty to promote religion
in England and Ireland, which are as much interested in the cause of the
Secession, rightly understood, as Scotland. When they complied with peti¬
tions from these countries, and erected congregations in consequence of them,
they did not lay themselves open to the charge of enlisting followers under the
standard of a party, or engaging them in local controversies in which they had
no concern ; but could plead, with the utmost truth, that they only embodied
them under principles and obligations which were common to the three
nations. In fine, while they considered themselves bound to do what in them
lay to enlarge the kingdom of Christ, they reckoned that they had a special
call to send the Gospel to those distant parts of the world where there were
settlers from this country ; and by the exertions which they made in this way
from an early period, multitudes have enjoyed the means of religious instruc¬
tion and salvation who would otherwise have heen left totally destitute of them.

When the Secession from the Church of Scotland was first declared, its
friends wei’e not under the necessity of proving tlie leading principles on which
their Testimony in favour of the Reformation proceeded. This had been the
work of their fathers ; and they were not called to lay again the foundation,
when there were few around them who attacked it. Their opponents, while
they condemned them for testifying in the w^ay of separation from the estab¬
lished church, went along with them in owning the whole doctrine of the
Westminster Confession, the divine right of Presbytery, and even the con¬
tinued obligation of our National Covenants. The state of matters is now, and
has for a considerable time been, very different. All these have been attacked
with great keenness from various quarters ; and it no longer remains a matter
of doubt or dispute, that the greater part of Seceders themselves have re¬
linquished their adherence to the Reformation cause, and are disposed to call
in question those things which were once most surely believed among them.
A vindication of these has become more than ever necessary. This, however,
is not proposed in these pages. All that I mean is to suggest a few things
which may tend to obviate the difficulties of such as still feel attached to the
cause, while their minds have heen thrown into confusion and emharrassment
by the specious and plausible objections which have heen confidently advanced
against it. And I shall endeavour to do this with all possible succinctness.

One of the most common and startling objections brought forward is that
which involves a charge against the Westminster Confession of Faith, as

196

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

favourable to persecution for conscience sake, and arming the civil magistrate
with a power to punish good and peaceable subjects purely on the ground of
their religious opinions and practices. This is a charge which affects all who
have owned that Confession, or who declare a simple adherence to it ; and
among these are many who, it will not be denied, have shown themselves
strenuous friends of the rights of conscience, and who were not likely to
subscribe any formulary which they had not examined and did not believe.
The passage chiefly referred to is in chap. xx. § 4. Let us ti’y if it justifles
the charge.

In the second section the doctrine of liberty of conscience is thus laid
down : “ God alone is Lord of the conscience, and hath left it free from the
doctrines and commandments of men which are in any thing contrary to his
word, or beside it in matters of faith or worship. So that to believe such
doctrines, or to obey such commandments, is to betray true liberty of con¬
science and reason also ; and the requiring of an implicit faith, and an absolute
and blind obedience, is to destroy liberty of conscience and reason also.”
This is an important doctrine, and necessary to be maintained against the
encroachments and unwarrantable claims of every creature, and of rulers
both civil and ecclesiastical. May every man then think and speak, and act as
he pleases, under the plea that his conscience gives him liberty to do so, or
dictates to him that he ought to do so? To guard against this pernicious
abuse of the doctrine is the object of what follows in the Confession. In
section third, those are condemned who, “ upon pretence of Christian liberty,
do practise any sin or cherish any lust.” The design of section fourth is to
guard against the abuse of the doctrine in reference to public authority :
“ And because the powers which God hath ordained, and the libei’ty which
Christ hath purchased, are not intended by God to destroy, but mutually to
uphold and preserve one another ; they who, upon prgtence of Christian
liberty, shall oppose any lawful power, or the lawful exercise of it, whether it
be civil or ecclesiastical, resist the ordinance of God.” He who is the Lord
of the conscience has also instituted the authorities in church and state ; and
it would be in the highest degi’ee absurd to suppose that he has planted in the
breast of every individual a power to resist, counteract, and nullify his own
ordinances. When public and private claims interfere and clash, the latter
must give way to the former ; and when any lawful authority is proceeding
lawfully within its line of duty, it must be understood as possessing a rightful
power to remove out of the way everything which necessarily obstructs its
progress. The Confession proceeds, accordingly, to state : “ And for their pub¬
lishing of such opinions, or maintaining of such practices as are contrary to
the light of nature, or to the known principles of Christianity, whether con¬
cerning faith, worship, or convei’sation, or to the power of godliness ; or such
erroneous opinions or practices, as either in their own nature, or in the manner
of publishing or maintaining them, are destructive to the external peace and
order which Christ hath established in the church ; they may lawfully be
called to account, and proceeded against by the censures of the church, and by
the power of the civil magistrate.” Now, this does not say that all who pub¬
lish such opinions and maintain such practices as are mentioned, may be pro¬
ceeded against, or punished (if the substitution of this word shall be insisted on)
by the civil magistrate ; nor does it say, that any good and peaceable subject shall

APPENDIX.

197

be made liable to this process simply on the ground of religious opinions pub¬
lished and practices maintained by him. For, in the first place, persons of a
particular character are spoken of in this paragraph, and these are very dif¬
ferent from good and peaceable subjects. They are described in the former
sentence as “ they who oppose lawful power or the lawful exercise of it,” and
“resist the ordinance of God.” The same persons are spoken of in the
sentence under consideration, as appears from the copulative and relative. It
is not said, “Any one for publishing,” &c., but “ they who oppose any lawful
power, &c. for their publishing,” &c. In the second place, this sentence speci¬
fies some of the ways in which these persons may become chargeable with the
opposition mentioned, and consequently “ may be called to account ; ” but it
does not assert that even they must or ought to be prosecuted for every
avowed opinion or practice of the kind refei’red to. All that it necessarily
implies is, that they may be found opposing lawful powers or the lawful exei'-
cise of them in the things specified, and that they are not entitled to plead a
general irresponsibility in matters of that kind : notwithstanding such a plea,
“ they may be called to account and proceeded against.” F or, be it observed, it
is not the design of this paragraph to state the objects of church censure or
civil prosecution : its proper and professed object is to interpose a check on
the abuse of liberty of conscience as operating to the prejudice of just and
lawful authority. It is not sin as sin, but as scandal, or injurious to the
spiritual interests of Christians, that is the proper object of church censure ;
and it is not for sins as such, but for crimes, that persons become liable to
punishment by magistrates. The compilers of the Confession were quite
aware of these distinctions, which were then common. Some think that if the
process of the magistrate had been limited to offences “ contrary to the light
of nature,” it would have been perfectly justifiable ; but the truth is, that it
would have been so only on the interpretation now given. To render an action
the proper object of magistratical punishment, it is not enough that it be con¬
trary to the law of God, whether natural or revealed ; it must, in one way or
another, strike against the public good of society. He who “ provides not for
his own, especially those of his own house,” sins against “ the light of nature,”
as also does he who is ‘'a lover of pleasures more than of God but there are
few who will plead that magistrates are bound to proceed against and punish
every idler and belly-god. On the other hand there are opinions and practices
“contrary to the known principles of Christianity,” or grafted upon them,
which either in their own nature, or from the circumstances with which they
may be clothed, may prove so injurious to the welfare of society in general, or
of particular nations, or of their just proceedings, or of lawful institutions
established in them, as to subject their publishers and maintainers to warrant¬
able coercion and punishment. As one point to which these may relate, I may
mention the external observance and sanctification of the Lord’s Day, which
can be known only from “the principles of Christianity,” and is connected
with all the particulars specified by the Confession — “ faith, worship, conversa¬
tion, the power of godliness, and the external order and peace of the church.”
That many other instances of a similar description can be produced, will be
denied by no sober-thinking person who is well acquainted with popish tenets
and practices, and with those which prevailed among the English sectaries
during the sitting of the Westminster Assembly ; and he who does not deny

198

THE UNITY OF THE CHUECH.

this, cannot be entitled, I should think, upon any principles of fair construc¬
tion, to fix the stigma of perseeution on the passage in question.

In support of the objection under consideration, some have referred to chap. 23
of the Confession, in which it is stated to be the magistrate’s duty to “ take
order that — all blasphemies and heresies be suppressed,” &e. But as certain
means by which he is to endeavour to effect this end are thei’e mentioned,
without one word about coercion or punishment, every person must pereeive
that that passage gives no occasion for such an inference. Others appeal to
passages in the private writings of Presbyterians at the period when the Con¬
fession was compiled. But it is evidently unjust to attempt in this way to
fasten on a public deed an odious sense which its own language does not
natively and necessarily imply. Would all those who wish to make Ruther¬
ford’s treatise on Pretended Liherty of Conscience an authentic interpreter of
the passages in question, be willing to make the same use of his treatise on
Spiritual Antichrist with reference to the doctrine taught by the Confession
on the Covenant of Grace ? Or, would they be willing that the same use
should be made of the writings of individuals in the present day in disputes
about the principles of the bodies with which they are connected, before the
public or before courts of judicature ?

Another objection brought against the Confession is, that it subjects
matters purely religious and ecclesiastical to the cognisance of the civil magis¬
trate, and allows him an Erastian power in and over the church. This, if true,
would be very strange, considering that the Assembly who compiled it were
engaged in a dispute against this very claim with the Parliament under whose
protection they sat, and that owing to their steady refusal to coneede that
power to the state (in which they were supported by the whole body of Pres¬
byterians), the ereetion of presbyteries and synods in England was suspended.
Independently of this important fact, the declarations of the Confession itself
are more than sufficient to repel the imputation. It declares “ that there is
no other head of the church but the Lord Jesus Christ,” (chap. 25, § 6), and
that He, as King and Head of his church, hath therein appointed a government
in the hand of church officers, distinct from the civil magistrate. To these
officer’s the keys of the kingdom are committed,” (chap. 30, § 1, 2). Yea, the
very passage appealed to in support of the objection begins with the following
pointed declaration : “ The civil magistrate may not assume to himself the
keys of the kingdom of heaven,” (chap. 23, § 3). “ The keys of the king¬

dom of heaven” include all the power exercised in the church, under Christ its
sole King; not only that w’hich is ordinarily exercised in the government of
particular congregations and in censuring offenders (chap. 30), but also the
power “ ministerially to determine controversies of faith, and cases of con¬
science, to set down rules and directioirs for the better ordering of the public
worship of God, and government of his chui’ch, to receive complaints in cases
of mal-administration, and authoritatively to determine the same,” (chap.
31, § 3). The Confession teaches that magistrates cannot warrantably assume
to themselves the power of doing these things, and what it adds must be
understood in a consistency with this declaration. It is ti-ue, that it allots to
the magistrate a care of religion, and asserts that “ he hath authority, and it is
his duty to take order that unity and peace be preserved in the church,” &c.
But is there no order which he can take for having these things done by the
persons and in the way by and in which they ought to be done, without taking

APPENDIX.

199

the doing of them into his hand, and thus assuming what does not belong to
him ? The Confession asserts that there is, and proceeds to say : “ For the
better effecting whereof^ he hath power to call synods.” And is there any
good reason for absolutely denying him this power ? When “ the unity and
peace of the church ” are broken and endangered in any country, “ the truth
of God ” is depraved, “ blasphemies and heresies ” of almost every kind are
spreading, “ corruptions and abuses in worship ” are abounding, and when, the
church being disorganised, there is no general authority of an ecclesiastical
kind to use means for remedying these evils, may not the civil government of
that country warrantably call a synod for that pm-pose ? When the state of
the nation, as well as of the church, may be convulsed, and its convulsions may
be in a great degree owing to religious disorders, is it not a high duty incum¬
bent on him to take such a step, provided he finds it practicable and advis¬
able? Was not this the state of matters in England when the Westminster
Assembly met ? Was not the state of matters similar in many respects at the
Revolution in Scotland ? And may not a crisis of the same kind yet recur ?
Was there any rational ground to think, at the period of the Westminster
Assembly, that such a synod would have met, or, supposing it somehow to
have been collected, that it could have continued together until it had finished
its business, if it had not been convoked, maintained, and protected, by the
Parliament of England ? Do many of those who deny the power in question
X’eflect, that they owe those books which they still, in one degree or another,
own as the subordinate standards of their ecclesiastical communion, to a synod
which was thus convoked? Do they reflect, that by means of them the
interests of religion have been promoted to an incalculable degree, “ unity and
peace preserved in the church,” &c. from the period of their compilation down
to the present day, in Scotland, in England, in Ireland, and in America ? Or,
recollecting these things, are they prepared to take the pen and insert their
absolute veto — “ The civil magistrate — for the better effecting thereof, hath ”
NOT “ power to call synods ?” At the same time it may be observed here, as
on the former objection, that it is not asserted that the magistrate may exer¬
cise this power on all occasions and in all circumstances, or whenever thei’e are
any evils of a religious kind to correct. It is sufficient that there may be
times and circumstances in which he may waiTautably exert this power. It
is true that the Confession, in another place, (chap. 31, § 2), is not sufficiently
full and e.xplicit in declai’ing the intrinsic right of the church to convoke
synods. But this defect was supplied by the Act of the General Assembly of
the Church of Scotland receiving and approving of the Confession and in
the Formula used in the Secession from the beginning an approbation of the
Confession is required, “ as received” by that Act of Assembly.

After stating that the magisti-ate has power to call synods, it is added, “ to
be present at them, and to provide that whatsoever is transacted in them be
according to the mind of God.” Not to insist here, that these words ought, in
fair construction, to be understood of such synods as have been convoked by
the magistrate, what reasonable objection can be made to his being present?
May he not claim a right to be present at any public meeting within his

X “For the better government and further edification of the church, there ought to be
such assemblies as are commonly called Synods or Councils ; i. e. for attaining the end
better than can be accomplished in sra.aller meetings of church officers.” (Conf. chap. ,31.)

2 See Act of Assembly, prefixed to all our copies of the Confession of Faith. Agree¬
ably to this Act was the Confession ratified by the Parliament of Scotland.

200

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

dominions ? May he not be present in a synod to witness their proceedings,
to preserve their external peace, to redress their grievances, or (why not ?) to
receive their advice or admonitions ? But, if it be supposed that his pre¬
sence is necessary to give validity to their proceedings, and that he sits as
preses of their meeting, or as director of their deliberations and votes, I shall
only say that the words of the Confession give not the slightest countenance to
such claims, which are utterly inconsistent with the common principles of
Presbyterians, and in particular with the well-known and avowed principles of
the Church of Scotland. A similar answer may be given to the objection
against the last clause of the paragraph. May not any Christian, whatever his
station be, “ provide that whatsoever is transacted,” even in synods, “ be
according to the mind of God?” If the legislature or government of a nation
have a special care about religion, or if there is any particular duty at all which
they have to discharge respecting it, and particularly if they have power in any
case to call synods, must it not in a special manner be incumbent on them to
see to this ? Nor does this imply that they are in possession of any ecclesias¬
tical powers, or that they pass a public judgment on true and false religion.
Their private judgment is sufficient to regulate them in their public manage¬
ments in this as well as on many other subjects, about which they exercise their
authority, without sustaining themselves as the proper judges of them, as in
the case of many arts, sciences, &c., which they patronise and encourage.
Must not Christian rulers, judges, and magistrates provide that “whatsoever is
transacted” by themselves, “ be according to the mind of God?” Is it not
highly fit that they should be satisfied, and that they should by every proper
means provide that the determinations of synods be according to the mind of
God, if they are afterwards to legalise them, or if they are to use their autho¬
rity for removing all external obstructions out of the way of their being
carried into effect ; both of which they may do, without imposing them on the
consciences of their subjects'? And, in fine, are there not various ways in
which they may provide as here stated, without assuming a power foreign to
their office, or intruding on the proper business of synods or ecclesiastical
courts ? But, if it be supposed that the magistrate, as the proper judge in such
matters, is to control the deliberations of the ecclesiastical assembly, to pre¬
scribe and dictate to them what their decisions shall be, or that, when they
have deliberated and decided, he may receive appeals from their decisions, or
may bring the whole before his tribunal, and review, alter, and reverse their
sentences, I have only to say, as formerly, that the words of the Confession
give not the slightest countenance to such claims, which are utterly inconsis¬
tent with the common principles of Presbyterians, and in particular with the
well-known and avowed prineiples and contendings of the Church of Scotland.

But though I consider these objections as destitute of a solid foundation,
yet, as the construction on which they proceed has often been put on the pas¬
sages to which they refer, I, for my part, can see no good reason why an expla¬
nation should not be given of these passages, or of the doctrine contained in
them, with the view of preventing all misconception of the sentiments of those
who approve of the Confession ; provided the two following things are attended
to. In the first place, that this declaration do not fix on the Confession the
obnoxious sentiments which are disclaimed. And, in the second place, that it
do not, under the cover of general and ambiguous expressions, invalidate or
set aside the general doctrine respecting the exercise of civil authority about

APPENDIX.

201

religion which is recognised in the Westminster Confession, and in those of all
Protestant churches. Explanations of this kind were given in the early papers
of the Secession, which are sufficient to show that they entertained no princi¬
ples favourable to persecution or injurious to the liberties and independence
of the church, and that they did not view the Confession as containing such
principles.^

That magistrates are not exempted from all concern about religion in their
public and official capacity, and that civil authority ought to be employed, and
is capable in different ways of being employed, for the advancement of religion,
and, in Christian countries, for the good of the church, is a doctrine, which, in
my opinion, is not only true, but of great practical importance. I shall state,
as briefly as I can, the grounds on which I consider this doctrine as resting,
and the leading explications and qualifications with which it has been received
among Presbyterians, and particularly in the Secession. The general doctrine
seems equally consonant to the dictates of sound reason, the maxims of good
policy, and the uniform tenor and express declarations of Scriptui’e. The
obligations and the practice of religion in some degree must be supposed to
exist antecedently to the erection of social institutions among mankind. It
enters into all the duties and offices of life ; and none are at liberty to over¬
look or be indifferent about its interests in any relation in which they stand,
or in reference to any connection which they may form. It is the firmest bond
of social union, tbe most efficient check on power, the sti’ongest security for
obedience, the principal source of justice, fidelity, humanity, and all the virtues.
In framing their laws, all nations, ancient and modern, have availed themselves
of its sanctions, and made provision in one way or another, for that worship
which they practised. And the principle on which they acted was expressly
recognised, and applied to the true religion, in the only system of national
polity that ever was prescribed immediately by Heaven. It would be strange
if a people professing Christianity should give the first example of a nation
settling its fundamental laws and regulating the administration of its govern¬
ment, without acknowledging the God that is above, making any provision for
the maintenance of his honour, or requiring any religious qualifications what¬
ever in those who were to I’ule over it. It would be stranger still, if it should
be argued that Christianity itself requires this, and that it forbids any homage
being done to its Founder by national laws, or any service being performed to
him by their administrators.

“ The public good of outward and common order in all reasonable society,
to the glory of God, is the great and only end which those invested with
magistracy can propose in a sole respect unto that office.”^ This distinguishes
their office from that of ministers of the Gospel, which is versant about “ the
disorders of men’s hearts.” But it does not surely mean, that there is nothing
incumbent on magistrates but the employment of physical forcepn restraining
men from committing injuries, or in putting down riots and seditions. The
prevention of crimes and disorders is a more important object than their pun¬
ishment. A right to accomplish any end implies a right to use all the means
that are necessary or conducive to the gaining of that end. And of all the
means which are calculated to preserve order, to repress crimes, and to pi’o-
mote the public and general good of society, the most powerful beyond all

1 Act and Testimony, apud Display, i. 156 — 159. And Answers to Nairn, ibid. p. 311
— 314. 2 Answers to Nairn, itt supra, p. 3li.

202

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

reasonable doubt is religion. On this ground it becomes one of the first duties
of those who are intrusted with the care of the public weal of a nation, to
preserve and cherish a sense of religion on the minds of the people at large,
and for this purpose to give public countenance and decided encouragement
to its institutions. And the more pure and perfect — the more free from
imposture, falsehood, error, superstition, and other corruptions — the more
certain in its foundation and the more forcible in its motives, that any system
of religion is, the higher claims must it have to public countenance, both on
the ground of its intrinsic truth and authority, and on account of its superior
practical influence and utility. This is not to make religion an engine of
state. It is to use it for one of those ends which it is calculated in its own
nature to serve, and which its Author intended it should serve: it is to make
the ordinances and the institutions of God mutually subservient, and thus to
promote in a more extensive way his glory and the good of his creatures.
Thus, as it is incumbent on all men to employ every lawful means, in their
several stations, for advancing the true religion, the duty of the enlightened
and patriotic magistrate, and the duty of the pious and public-spirited Chris¬
tian who may hold that office, become so far coincident, and a uniform manner
of action, according to the complex character which the individual sustains, is
produced.

Magistracy is common to mankind at large, whether living wuthin or with¬
out the church. It supposes them capable of religion, and practising it in some
shape under the moral government of God ; hut as it is founded on natural
principles and on the moral law (which was prior to the Christian faith, and
more extensively known), it would be absurd to suppose that it was instituted
by the Mediator, or that it has the supernatural things peculiar to Christianity
for its direct and proper object. “ As the whole institution and end of the
office are cut out by and lie within the compass of natural principles, it w'ere
absurd to suppose that there could or ought to be any exercise thereof towards
its end, in the foresaid circumstances, but what can be argued for aud defended
from natural principles : as, indeed, there is nothing especially allotted and
allowed to magistrates by the Woi’d of God aud the Confessions of the
Reformed Churches, but what can be so.”^ This establishes the power in ques¬
tion on its proper and broadest basis, as extending to natural religion, whether
more imperfectly understood without revelation, or more fully explained in the
Bible. But then it is to be observed, that religion and morality in all the
extent to which they were contained in the law of nature, are taken into the
system of Christianity. There is — there can be — no such thing as a distinct
profession or practice of natural religion in Christian countries. And, conse¬
quently, there could be no objects of a religious kind, in such countries, about
which magistratical power could be employed, unless it were to regard them
as existing in the constitution of the Christian church, and see to the observ¬
ance of them as enforced by immediate divine authority, and connected with
supernatural mysteries. To deny, thei’efore, that civil rulers have a right to
do this, would be to represent the Gospel as making void instead of establish¬
ing the law, and as invalidating that authority and abridging those power’s,
which the God of nature had instituted and conferred for the wisest and most
beneficial purposes. When duly and wisely employed about the external con¬
cernments of the church, as a visible society erected in the world, so as to be

1 Answers to Nairn, ut supra.

APPENDIX.

203

really serviceable to her interests, civil authority becomes doubly a blessing to
a people, and as such it was repeatedly promised to Christian nations in the
prophetic scriptures both of the Old and New Testament. But in this case
there is no addition of power to magistracy, but merely an application of its
common power, under the direction of its original general law, to a particular
object, which is brought under its cognisance in some periods and places of
the world. Tlie kingdom of Christ, though not of is in this world ; as exter¬
nally set up among men it is entitled to all the support and countenance
which any ordinance of God can give it; and as its spirituality does not
render it incapable of being injured by the kingdoms of this world, so neither
does it render it incapable of being benefited by them. Church and state are
essentially distinct and independent of eaeh other. But kingdoms and powers
which are independent may surely maintain a friendly alliance ; they may
assist and support each other ; and, although the one cannot make laws which are
binding on the other, yet they may make laws which both tend and are intended
for mutual advantage. Presbyterians have stated with as great clearness as
those of any other denomination — I may safely say, with greater clearness —
the divine origin, the independence, the spirituality, the heavenly constitution
of the kingdom of Christ, and its distinction from secular kingdoms in its laws,
administration, subjects, offices, judicatories, and speeial ends. But in perfeet
consistency with all this, they have maintained that civil and ecclesiastical
societies may sustain friendly relations ; that they may be helpful to each other,
that they may have certain common objects about which both may be employed
in a distinct manner’, and a common end beside that which is peculiar to each ;
that the co- operation of temporal and spiritual power may be necessary for
introducing or securing a public reformation of religion, w’hen it is opposed by
violence, or when a corrupt system has established itself in all the departments
of society ; and that civil authority, in ordinary times, may be exerted in
securing and preserving the church in the peaceable, full, and permanent
enjoyment of her peculiar liberties, government, and institutions. A civil
establishment of a particular religion or church does not necessarily imply a
power of legislating to the faith and consciences of Christians : nor an impos¬
ing of matters purely religious or of supernatural things as such, by civil
penalties ; nor a depriving of subjects of their natural and eivil privileges
simply on the ground of their dissent. Besides, there are various ways in
which religion may be an object of public attention, and be encouraged by
those who are in civil authority, supreme, and subordinate, without their
attempting to establish a particular system, which, in many cases, would be
impracticable or highly improper ; as when the mass of the people may be
grossly ignorant of Christianity or superstitiously attached to a corrupt form
of it, or when a nation may be greatly divided in their religious opinions and
practice.

But it is not the design of these pages to enlarge on this subject. Before
dismissing it, however, I have two general remarks to make. In the first place,
it is, to say the least, extremely inadvertent to represent this as a subject of
mere speculation, on which Christians are called to form no opinion. Not to
specify here tlie various practical lights in which the question may be viewed,
it may be sufficient to mention, that national laws and their administration,
whether in favour of a true or a false religion, have always had, and must have,
great influence upon the opinions and conduct of the mass of the people.

204

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

Religious establishments exist in our own country, and are daily productive of
good or evil : we must either approve or condemn them in whole, or we must
do so in part ; but how can we do either, if we have no formed principles on
the subject! In the second place, it is still more unreasonable to holdout
that this is a matter of mere speculation to Seceders. After the statement
that has been given of their principles ; — after their express approbation of the
national covenants, of the Westminster Confession, of the civil reformation of
Scotland, and the laws establishing the Protestant and Presbyterian religion ; —
after their condemnation of the rescission of these laws at the Restoration ;
— after their pointed censures of the Revolution-settlement on such grounds
as the following, that “ Prelacy is never considered as contrary to the Word of
God — nor our Presbyterian church-government and discipline as what the
land is bound and obliged to maintain by the most solemn oaths and cove¬
nants ; — and all the legal securities given to this church, in that covenanting
period from 1638 to 1650, are overlooked and passed by ^ — and after having
made their testimony on these heads the matter of a solemn vow and oath, it
surely cannot be maintained that they have no immediate or practical interest
in the doctrine which teaches that civil authority may be warrantably
employed about matters of religion and relating to the church. The truth
is, that this doctrine is not only necessarily implied in their religious profes¬
sion, but it will be found running through the whole of it, so that it is impos¬
sible to separate the one from the other without disordering and taking in
pieces the entire system. I do not mean by this, that they must decide and
be agreed upon all the questions that have been or may be started on this
subject ; this would be absurd in x’eference to ecclesiastical power, and much
more so as to civil. All that is required is, that they hold those general prin¬
ciples on this head of doctrine which are implied in, or are necessary to
support, the express approvals of the national reformation, and condemnations
of the national deformation, which formed so prominent a part of their
public profession, and by which they were from the first distinguished as
Seceders.

It will not be expected that I should enter here into an examination of the
accusations brought against Presbyterians as chargeable with intolerant and
persecuting proceedings during the period of the Solemn League. I confine
myself to the following general observations. In the first place, Seceders never
pledged themselves by an approbation of all the acts and proceedings either
of the state or of the church during that period. Their approbation of them
was limited.^ So far as it can be shown that any acts of the church encroached
on due Christian liberty, or that any acts of the state subjected good and
peaceable subjects to punishment for matters purely religious, or imposed on
them hardships which did not necessarily result from measui’es requisite to
promote the public good and preserve the national safety, the principles of
Seceders do not permit them to justify the conduct of the covenanters.

In the second place, the charges on this head are in some instances groundless,
and in others greatly exaggerated. The fact is, that this period of the history
of Britain has been most grossly misrepresented, and erroneous and distorted
views of the great transactions by which it was distinguished, and of the

1 Act and Testimony, ut supra, p. 86 — 87. Acknowledgment of Sins, ib. p. 230. An¬
swers to Nairn, ib. p. 286 — 287.

2 Act and Testimony, ul supra, p. 62. Answers to Nairn, ib. p. 283.

APPENDIX,

205

characters and actions of the men who were principally engaged in them have
at last become genei’al, and, in some points, almost universal.^ By the most
the nature of the cause in which the covenanters were embarked, the enemies
by whom they were opposed, and the dangers with which they were surrounded,
are not understood or not duly adverted to. The work to which they were
called did not consist in the correction of simple errors in doctrine, or corrup.
tions which merely affected worship, ecclesiastical discipline, and Christian
morals. It had for its object the removal of evils which were hurtful both in
a religious and political view, and by which the liberties of church and state
were equally affected. Prelacy was not only a deviation from the institution
of Christ, which was to be confuted and removed by an appeal to scriptural
authority and argument ; but secular power, external violence, and political
tyrannny were annexed to it, and interwoven with the whole form and pro¬
ceedings of the hierarchy. Bishops were not only domineering lords in
the church ; they were also tools in the hands of arbitrary monarchs and
persecuting statesmen. Again, these evils were owing in a great measure to
the exorbitant prerogative of the crown, from which, in consequence of the
ecclesiastical supremacy vested in it, arose the arbitrary proceedings of the
bishops’ courts, and the illegal powers of the High Commission. While the
ecclesiastical grievances sprung from political abuses, the political grievances
might be traced in their turn to ecclesiastical abuses ; and religion and policy
equally demanded the correction of both. A co-operation of the several
powers, and of the means competent to them, was therefore requisite. The
use of religious means was primarily needful for giving life and animation to
the work ; but these alone could not redress all grievances. Means of a very
different kind were necessary to restrain violence, to curb tyranny, to abolish
the laws authorising the evils complained of, and to substitute others in their
place. If forcible opposition was made to this, or if conspiracies and factions
were formed for the maintenance or restitution of the old oppressive system,
it was necessary to employ law and penalties for restraining or suppressing

1 I cannot help saying, that Presbyterians
have shown themselves strangely negligent
in counteracting these false views ; and I
wish I had no reason for adding, that they
have suffered for their supineness by be¬
coming the dupes of misrepresentation. Mr
Neal’s History of the Puritans, a work which
has been extensively read, affords a striking
exemplification of this. Examinations of it,
or counter-statements in those instances in
which they considered their connections as
injured by the author, have been published
by Episcopalians, Baptists, Quakers, and
Socinians. Nothing of this kind has ap¬
peared from Presbyterians, although it
might easily be shown that they had as
much ground for complaint as any of the
parties mentioned. The general merits of
that work should have been an inducement
to them to pointout its mistakes, which were
more readily credited than the grosser errors
of less inform ed and m ore prej udiced writers.

I can only give one instance here. After
stating the Presbyterian opinion concerning
“ the power of the keys,” or of church-gov¬
ernment, he adds; “The Independents
claimed a like power for the brotherhood of

every particular congregation, hvi without
any civil sanctions or penalties annexed.”
Hist, of Puritans, vol. iii. p. 2(56. Toulmin’s
edit. Now, the annexation of civil penalties
did not enter into the claim of the Presby¬
terians, in their disputes in favour of the
divine right of church-government in gene¬
ral, or of Presbytery. But, if it had entered
into their claim (as I grant some of them in
their writings vindicated the propriety of
the annexation), still it would have formed
no distinction between them and the Inde¬
pendents ; the latter themselves being
judges. “If the Magistrate’s power (to
which we give as much, and, as we think,
MOPvB than the principles of the Presbyterial
government will suffer them to yield) do but
assist and back the sentence of other churches
denouncing this non -communion against
churches miscarrying, according to the
nature of the crime, as they judge meet —
then, without all controversie this our way
of church j)roceeding will be every way as
effectual as their other can be supposed to
be,” Ac. Apologetical Narration by the
five Dissenting Members of the Assembly of
Divines, p. 18.

206

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

such attempts. In conducting any common measures having for their object
the general good of society, civil or ecclesiastical, it is impossible altogether to
avoid interfering with private liberty, or subjecting individuals to hardships and
restraints which in some way affect their consciences and the full enjoyment of
their religious privileges. Undeniable examples of this in recent times might
be produced from the proceedings of religious societies which have no imme¬
diate connection with government. In the prosecution of the complex refor¬
mation in which our forefathers were engaged, opposed, as it was, by such
adversaries as we have described, and while an intestine w'ar raged in the
country, it was not only extremely difficult for them to steer an even course,
but it was impossible for them to avoid imposing restraints which would have
been improper in an ordinary state of affairs ; and tenderness apart, we ought
to be cautious in censuring their conduct, as it may turn out, on an accurate
knowledge of all the facts, that measures which at first view appeared
intolerant or unreasonably severe were indispensably necessary to the public
safety. Nor should we overlook the character and designs of the sectaries,
who rose on the suppression of the arbitrary and malignant party ; and whose
claims on the head of liberty of conscience were resisted, by men decidedly
averse to the use of force in religious matters, as dangerous to the I’eligion,
liberties, and peace of the three kingdoms.^ If the state of parties and the
circumstances of the time be narrowly investigated, it will appear, I think, that
the public proceedings, so far from being obnoxious to the charge of persecu¬
tion, were upon the whole marked with uncommon lenity and tenderness, even
amidst open war and the plots and cabals of factions, political and religious ;
and that that period, instead of being distinguished by restrictions on opinions
and practices, w'as rather noted for the relaxation of ecclesiastical discipline
and penal laws, and for a more licentious freedom and greater diversity of
religion than ever prevailed in any period of British history.

In the third place, the most exceptionable acts and proceedings took place
in consequence of the rejection of those salutary measures which the Presby¬
terians had advised. Suffice it to state here, that, in consequence of the
opposition of the Independents on the one hand, and the Erastians on the
other, the settlement of ecclesiastical government and discipline, according to
the plan agreed on by the Westminster Assembly, was delayed from time to
time, and ultimately refused by the Parliament of England. In this dis¬
organised state of the church, disorders of various kinds took place, innu¬
merable sects sprung up, and errors and blasphemies, formerly unheard of,
and shocking to Christian ears, were everywhere propagated. Alarmed at
these appearances, and seeing matters fast tending to anarchy and con¬
fusion in the nation, the Pazdiament took the affair into their own hands,
and published an ordinance intended to check and punish these evils. The
Presbyterians by their declarations and petitions may be brought in as acces¬
sory to this measure ; but it ought not to be foi-gotten that they had predicted
the conseqziences which would arise from the dilatoi'y proceedings of parlia¬
ment ; that they had uniformly testified an earnest desire to have religious
errors and disorders coi'rected by spiritual means ; and had avowed their con¬
viction, that a scriptural discipline, if erected and allowed freely to exert itself,

1 See the Lives of Gataker and Lightfoot, in Biographia Britannica, vol. iv. p. 2166 ;
vol. V. p. 3293.

APPENDIX.

207

would accomplish that desirable end, without the interposition of any secular
violence.

The last class of objections to which I propose adverting is that which
relates to the Solemn League and Covenant. It will not be expected that I
should say anything here in the way of direct answer to those who find fault
with the matter of that deed, or who deny the lawfulness and binding force of
all covenants about matters of religion. The following considerations may
perhaps tend to obviate some of the difficulties which are felt respecting
: the form, enactment, and obligation of the Solemn League. Covenants and

' oaths are of the same general nature, and retain their proper and primary
' design, by whomsoever they are employed, and to whatever purposes they may
be applied. Their lawfulness, utility, and obligation are recognised among all
people, and recourse has been had to them on all great occasions that
required their interposition. Revelation teaches more explicitly, and corrobo¬
rates their warrants and obligations, discovei's new objects about which they
may be employed, and gives directions as to the proper manner of performing
these and other acts of moral duty. It expressly ascertains their use and
application to moral and religious purposes, as well as to the ordinary affairs of
human society. There is a law of morality and religion common to men ; and
the use of these bonds of fidelity in the peculiar concerns of Christians, or of
ecclesiastical societies, does not abolish or supersede tlieir use for any other
lawful purpose. The Gospel neither adds any essential duties to the law, nor
confines it within narrower limits as to persons or objects. Covenants and oaths
are sacred in themselves, independently of the matter of them. In respect of tlieir
matter and immediate end they maybe civil, political, or ecclesiastical, or they
may be of a mixed kind, in which objects of a different nature are combined for
the better attaining of some great purpose of public good ; they may be private
or public ; spontaneous, and about matters to which persons were not previously
bound, or framed and enjoined by authority ; more general or particular ; more
extensive or limited ; temporary or perpetual. They may formally consist in
mutual stipulations between individuals or bodies of men, or they may consist in

1 In a work published two years before
the time now referred to, Mr Baillie made
the following striking declaration : “ Now,
indeed, every monster walks in the street
without controlment, white all ecclesiastic
government is cast asleep ; this too too long
inter-reign and mere anarchy hath invited
every unclean creature to creep out of its
cave, and show in publike its misshapen face
to all who like to behold. But if once the
government of Christ were set up amongst
us, as it is in the rest of the reformed
churches, we know not what would impede
it, by the sword of God alone, without any
secular violence, to banish out of the land
these spirits of error, in all meekness, hu¬
mility, .and love, by the force of truth con¬
vincing and satisfying the minds of the se¬
duced. Episcopal courts were never fitted
for the reclaiming of minds ; their prisons,
their fines, their pillories, their nose-slit-
tings, their ear-cuttings, their cheek-burn¬
ings, did but hold down the fl.ame to break
out in season with the greater rage. But
the reformed Presbytery doth proceed in
a spiritual method evidently fitted for the
gaining of hearts. It is not prophecy, but

a rational prediction bottomed upon reasons
and multiplied experience : Let England
once be countenanced by her superior
fjowers, to enjoy the just and necessary
liberty of consistories for congregations, of
presbyteries for counties, of synods for
larger shires, and national assemblies for
the whole land, as Scotland hath long pos-
ses.sed these by the unanimous consent of
king and parliament, without the least pre¬
judice to the civil state, but to the evident
and confessed benefit thereof ; or as the
very Protestants in France, by the conces¬
sion of a popish state and king, have en¬
joyed all these four spiritual courts the last
fourscoure years and above : Put these holy
and divine instniments in the hand of the
Church of England, by the blessing of God
thereupon, the sore and great evil of so many
heresies and schisms shall quickly be cured,
which now not only troubles the peace and
welfare, but hazards the very sub.sistance both
of church and kingdom : without this mean,
the State will toil itself in vain about the cure
of such spiritual diseases." Baillie’s Dis¬
suasive from the Errors of the Time, pref.
pp. 7, 8.

208

THE UNITY OF THE CHUKCH,

a common engagement to God, which is the strongest and most solemn way in
which men can become bound to one another. They may relate to the
intrinsic affairs of a church, or to the external state and interests of churches
and nations. Any of these are lawful and obligatory when entered into on a
due call and on proper grounds. All the temporal and common affairs of men
are capable of a religious direction and use, and may be subordinated to the
great ends of advancing the divine glory and spiritual interests. No duties,
moral or religious, can be acceptably performed but by those who are
acquainted with the Gospel and instated in the covenant of grace ; but this
must not be confounded with their warrants and obligations. Of covenanting
considered as a public duty performed by Christians solely in their ecclesiastical
capacity — of the distinction between it and those engagements, virtual or
actual, which are constitutive of churches or of church membership, — of the
distinction between it and the act of faith which brings persons to an interest
in the covenant of grace, and ought not to be viewed as a promise of fidelity
or engagement either to God or man — of the additional formality and solemn
sanctions which discriminate it from that open profession of interest in God
and obedience to Him which is in some way made by all believers and in all
churches — and of the special reasons and calls for these high sanctions and
pledges, — I do not propose here to speak.

All the noted covenants and leagues in which the interests of the Reforma¬
tion throughout Europe were so deeply concerned, were of a mixed kind.
They contained engagements on the part of the confederates to defend one
another in the profession of the Protestant religion, or in throwing off the
authority of Rome, and correcting abuses, which were partly religious and
partly political. They were entered into by public men, in their several
secular capacities, as well as religious, and even by corporate bodies. Such
was the League of Smalcald, of the Swiss Cantons, and of the Evan¬
gelic Body in Germany ; and the Covenants of the Protestant princes and
towns in France, and in the Netherlands. Such also were the National
Covenants in Britain. The Solemn League was a complex deed, both in
its foi’m and in its matter. It was not only a covenant with God, but
also between people and people, for reciprocal benefit, and on certain
mutual terms : security was stipulated on the one part and aid on the other,
in the prosecution of its great objects. Religion formed the great and principal
matter of it, but the promoting of this was not its sole object. National
reformation and uniformity were combined with national liberty, safety, peace,
loyalty, and law. It was adapted to “ the dangerous, distressed, and deplor¬
able estate ” of the three “ kingdoms,” as well as of the “ churches” in them.
It was not, therefore, a mere church-covenant, but was ft’amed, sworn, enjoined,
and promoted by the public authorities of both church and state.

Some condemn this as an improper blending of heterogeneous matter, and
think that our ancestors ought to have framed two separate covenants — one in
defence of their civil liberties, and another for religious purposes. If those who
express this opinion will make the trial, I apprehend they will find in it
articles (and these not the least important), which they will be unable to dispose
of, without making a third covenant, to be taken by all, or else adding them
to each of the two, as equally pertaining to both. In either way they will
inevitably plunge into what they call the old error of blending. There were
peculiar duties which those in civil, and even in military stations, owed respect-

APPENDIX.

209

ing the articles which were of a religious complexion ; and, vice versd, there
were duties which ministers of the Gospel and church courts owed respecting
those which were civil, political, or military. The truth is, there is no article
in the Solemn League that is either purely civil, or purely religious. The civil
things in it were connected with the religious, and the religious bore a rela¬
tion to the national state and policy at that time. An accurate acquaintance
with the circumstances in which our ancestors were placed, will, I presume,
fully justify the measure they adopted, and show that they acted with the
greatest wisdom, when they embodied in one common engagement to God
and among themselves those things which Providence had joined together,
and thus secured the vigorous and combined exertions of the friends of
religion and liberty in a cause that was common to both. Nor did this
imply any undue blending of things which, though connected, are in their
nature distinct, nor any confounding of the constitution and powers of church
and state, or of the respective offices and duties of the covenanters. It may
just as well be said (to make use of a familiar comparison), that, when a mason
and carpenter enter into a joint contract to finish a building, there is a confu¬
sion of trades, and that the one is to labour in the occupation of the other, instead
of doing each his own work, and providing what is common to both. To
separate the civil part of the covenant from the religious, and judge of it piece¬
meal, is to proceed on a fanciful supposition of something that never had an
existence. As one complex and undivided whole was it framed, enacted,
sworn, promoted ; and as one whole must it be judged, and stand or fall.

The manner in which the covenant was enjoined to be taken in Scotland —
“ under all civil pains,” has not been approved by Seceders in any of their
public papers. Private writers of their connection who have vindicated the
injunction-clause, have not considered it as extending beyond exclusion from
places of power and trust. Whatever may be the legal import of the phrase,
I believe this interpretation accords with the fact ; and, so far as I know,
it cannot be shown, that, with the consent and approbation of the public
authorities, the covenant was forced upon any, or that the loss of liberty
or of goods was incurred by them for simply refusing it. I frankly con¬
fess that I have not yet seen any good reason, in point of religion, justice,
or good policy, for condemning the exclusion of those who did not take
the Solemn League from places of authority and public trust. It was the
great bond of union, and test of fidelity, among those who were embarked
in that cause in defence of which the Parliaments had already drawn
their swords. A due regard to the high interests which were at stake, as
well as their own safety and the maxims of prudence by which all people
are guided in similar circumstances, required that they should carefully
distinguish between those who were well or ill affected to their cause, and
that they should not intrust the more active management and defence
of it to such as were of the latter description. In the extraordinary cir¬
cumstances in which they were placed, a mixed test, partly civil and partly
religious, became so far necessary to ascertain common friends and foes.
There might be (I have no doubt there were) individuals peaceably disposed,
and even friendly to the cause of the Parliaments, so far as civil liberty was
concerned, who yet scrupled at the stipulations in the covenant which related
to religion. But laws cannot be made for individuals ; it belonged to the
public authorities to determine what description of persons it was safe, in the

210

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

peculiar circumstances, to intrust with power ; and in times of national con¬
fusion, danger, and war, when all that is valuable to a people may be put in
jeopardy, individuals may be required to forego, or may be restricted in the
exercise of those rights which, in an ordinary and quiet state of society, they
may be entitled to claim. The vindicating of such tests in certain times, and
in reference to certain parties, does not apply an approval of them in times or
in reference to parties of a very different description.

The continued obligation of our National Covenants is of greater importance
than any particular measure adopted in prosecuting them. In what I have
to say on this branch of the subject, I shall keep the Solemn League more
particularly in eye, both because it comprehends the substance of the National
Covenant of Scotland, and because it has been the object of more frequent
attack. It is not every lawful covenant, nor even every lawful covenant of a
public nature, that is of permanent obligation. Some of both kinds, from
their very nature or from other circumstances, may undoubtedly be temporary.
The permanent obligation of the Solemn League results from the permanency
of its nature and design, and of the parties entering into it, taken in connec¬
tion with the public capacity in which it was established. Some talk of it as
it were a mere temporary expedient to which our forefathers had recourse in
defending their civil and religious liberties ; and, when they have paid a com¬
pliment to it in this point of view, they think they have no more concern
with the matter. This is a very narrow and mistaken view of the deed. The
most momentous transactions, and most deeply and durably affecting the
welfare and the duty of nations and of churches, may be traced to the influence
of the extraordinary and emergent circumstances of a particular period. The
emergency which led to the formation of the covenant is one thing, and the
obligation of that covenant is quite another : the former might quickly pass
away, while the latter may be permanent and perpetual. Nor is the obligation
of the covenant to be determined by the temporary or changeable nature of its
subordinate and accessory articles. Whatever may be said of some of the
things engaged to in the Solemn League, there cannot be a doubt that in its
great design and leading articles it was not temporary but permanent. Though
the objects immediately contemplated by it — religious reformation and uni¬
formity — had been accomplished, it would still have continued to oblige
those who were under its bond to adhere to and maintain these attainments.
But unhappily there is no need of having recourse to this line of argument :
its grand stipulations remain to this day unfulfilled. The Solemn League was
a national covenant and oath, in every point of view, — in its matter, its form,
the authority by which it was enjoined, the capacities in which it was sworn,
and the manner in which it was ratified. It was a sacred league between
kingdom and kingdom with respect to their religious as well as their secular
interests, and at the same time a covenant in which they jointly swore to God
to perform all the articles contained in it. National religion, national safety,
liberty and peace, were the great objects which it embraced. It was not a
mere agreement or confederation (however solemn) of individuals or private
persons (however numerous) entering spontaneously and of their own accord
into a common engagement. It was framed and concluded by the represen¬
tatives of kingdoms in concurrence with those of the church ; it was sworn by
them in their public capacity ; at their call and by their authority, it was after¬
wards sworn by the body of the people in their different ranks and orders ;
and finally, it was ratified and pronounced valid by laws both civil and

APPENDIX.

211

ecclesiastical. The public faith was thus plighted by all the organs through
which a nation is accustomed to express its mind and will. Nothing was
wanting to complete the national tie, and to render it permanent ; unless it
should be maintained that absolute unanimity is necessary, and that a society
cannot contract lawful engagements to God or man, as long as there are indi¬
viduals who oppose and are dissentient. Sanctions less sacred, and pledges
less numerous, would have given another nation, or even an individual, a
perfect right to demand from Britain the fulfilment of any treaty or contract ;
and shall not God, who was not only a witness but the principal party, and
whose honour and interests were immediately concerned in this transaction,
have a like claim ? — or shall we “ break the covenant and escape ? ”

Some of the principles on which it has been attempted to loose this sacred
tie, are so opposite to the common sentiments of mankind, that it is not
necessary to refute them j such as, that covenants, vows, and oaths, cannot
superadd any obligation to that which we are previously under by the law of
God ; and, that their obligation on posterity consists merely in the influence
of example. There is another objection which is of a more specious kind and
lays claim to greater accuracy, but which on examination will be found both
unsolid and inaccurate. It is pleaded, that it is only in the character of church-
members that persons can enter into religious covenants or be bound by them ;
and that the covenants of this country can be called national, on no other
ground than because the majority of the inhabitants, in their individual cha¬
racter, voluntarily entered into them. At present I can only state some
general considerations tending to show the fallacy of this view of the subject.
By church-members may be meant either those who are in actual communion
with a particular organised church, or those who stand in a general relation
to the church universal ; but in neither of these senses can it be said that
religious covenants or bonds are incompetent or non-obligatory in every other
character. This is to restrict the authority of the divine law in reference to
moral duties, and to limit the obligations which result from it, in a way that
is not warranted either by Scripture or reason. How can that which is founded
on the moral law, and which is moral-natural, not positive, be confined to
church-members, or to Christians in the character of church-members only 1
The doctrine in question is also highly objectionable, as it unduly restricts
the religious character of men, and the sphere of their action about religious
matters, whether viewed as individuals or as formed into societies and com¬
munities. They are bound to act for the honour of God, and are capable of
contracting sacred obligations (sacred both in their nature and in their objects)
in all the characters and capacities which they sustain. I know no good reason
for holding, that when a company of men or a society act about religion, or
engage in religious exercises, they are thereby converted into a church, or act
merely and properly as church-members. Families are not churches, nor are
they constituted properly for a religious purpose ; yet they have a religious
character, and are bound to act according to it in honouring and serving God,
and are capable of contracting religious obligations. Nations also have a
religious character, and may act about the affairs of religion. They may make
their profession of Christianity, and legally authorise its institutions, without
being turned into a church ; and why may they not also come under an oath
and covenant with reference to it, which shall be nationally binding ? Cove¬
nanting may be said to be by a nation as brought into a church-state, acting
in this religious capacity — the oath may be dispensed by ministers of the

212

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

Gospel, and accompanied by the usual exercises of religion in the church, and
yet it may not be an ecclesiastical deed. The marriage-covenant and vow is
founded on the original law, and its duties, as well as the relation which it
establishes, are common to men, and of a civil kind. Yet among Christians it
is mixed with religious engagements, and celebrated religiously in the church.
Ministers of the Gospel officiate in dispensing the vow, and accompany it with
the word and prayer. The parties are bound to marry in the Lord, and to
live together as Christians. But is the marriage vow on that account ecclesias¬
tical, or do the parties engage as church-members only? The Christian
character is, in such cases, combined with the natural, domestic, civil, political.
Much confusion also arises on this subject from not attending to the specific
object of our National Covenants, and the nature of their stipulations, by which
they are distinguished from mere church-covenants. I shall only add that
several objections usually adduced on this head may be obviated by keeping
in mind, that the obligation in question is of a moral kind, and that God is
the principal party who exacts the fulfilment of the bond.

If there is any ti’uth in the statements that have now been made, the ques¬
tion respecting the obligation of the British covenants is deeply interesting
to the present generation. The identity of a nation, as existing through dif¬
ferent ages, is, in all moral respects, as real as the identity of an individual
through the whole period of his life. The individuals that compose it, like
the particles of matter in the human body, pass away and are succeeded by
others ; but the body politic continues essentially the same. If Britain con¬
tracted a moral obligation, in virtue of a solemn national covenant for religion
and reformation, that obligation must attach to her until it has been dis¬
charged. Have the pledges given by the nation been yet redeemed ? Do not
the principal stipulations in the covenant remain unfulfilled at this day ? Are
we not as a people still bound by that engagement to see these things done ?
Has the lapse of time cancelled the bond ? Or, will a change of sentiments
and views set us free from its tie ? Is it not the duty of all the friends of re¬
formation to endeavour to keep alive a sense of this obligation on the public
mind ? But, although all ranks and classes in the nation should lose impres¬
sions of it, and although there should not be a single religious denomination,
nor even a single individual, in the land, to remind them of it, will it not be
held in remembrance by One, with whom “ a thousand years are as one day,
and one day as a thousand years?”

By this time the reader must be aware of the general opinion which I enter¬
tain of the basis on which the two largest Synods of the Secession have lately
united. It is not my intention to enter into any particular examination of the
articles of that agreement. Complexly taken, they afford undeniable proof of
a complete recession from the ground originally occupied by Seceders. The
exception made to the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms, is
expressed in such a way as to leave on them the imputation of teaching
persecuting principles in matters of religion, and in such a w'ay as to set aside,
or to thi’ow loose, the whole doctrine which they teach respecting the
exercise of magistratical authority about these matters. Besides, the united
Synod merely “ retain ” these books, “ as (to use their own words) the con¬
fession of our faith, expressive of the sense in which we understand the
Holy Scriptures but do not receive them, as was formerly done by the
Church of Scotland and in the Secession, under the consideration of their
being subordinate standards of uniformity for the three nations. The other

APPENDIX.

213

standards, the Westminster “Form of Church-government,” and “Diree-
tory,” are entirely excluded from the Basis. The general statement on the
head of Presbyterian government is chargeable with ambiguity, and, unless
inadvertency be pleaded, is evasive. The expression of veneration for our
Reforming ancestors, and of a warm sense of the value of their efforts “ in
the cause of civil and religious liberty,” I have no doubt, is “ unfeigned
and the approval of “ the method adopted by them for mutual excitement
and encouragement by solemn confederation and vows to God,” is so far
good. But I must be allowed to add, that this is saying no more than has
been often said, by those friends of civil and religious liberty whose system of
religion was very opposite to that of our Reforming ancestors ; and that it is
a very poor substitute for that explicit approbation of, and adherence to, the
Covenanted Reformation of Britain which Seceders formerly avouched. This
is all that the United Synod have to say respecting our National Covenants ;
they “ approve of the method adopted — by solemn confederation and vows to
God but they have not a word to say on the present or continued obliga¬
tion of these vows. For, surely, it was not expected that the public would
consider this as included in the following declaration : “ We acknowledge that
we are under high obligations to maintain and promote the work of Reforma¬
tion begun, and to a great extent carried on by them.” Nothing, in fact, could
be more disgraceful to these covenants than to attempt to bring them in under
the cover of such an expression : and, after the open, decided, express, and
repeated avowals of the perpetual obligation of the National Covenant of
Scotland and the Solemn League and Covenant of the three kingdoms, in the
former profession, and in the Ordination-foi’mula, of the two bodies now com¬
posing the Union, the omission of everything of this kind, and the careful
exclusion of the very names of these covenants, can be viewed in no other
light than a practical renunciation of their obligation, and a rescinding of all
former declarations in favour of it. If the United Synod were the same with
the original Seceding body, how severely would they condemn themselves by
the charge which they once and again brought against the Established Church
after the Revolution, because “ they did not, by any particular act of Assembly,
assert the obligation of our Covenants, National and Solemn League, and their
binding force upon posterity?”^ On the provision made by the articles for the
practice of covenanting, I have only to observe, that this exercise was all
along viewed, in that part of the Secession by which it was observed, as the
most solemn mode of sealing the common profession of the whole body; that
as such it was engaged in at the express call of the supreme judicatory; and
that, when the United Synod cannot say that “ the circumstances of Provi¬
dence require it,” I can scarcely persuade myself that it is seriously contem¬
plated to practise this sacred service in a manner which would discredit it,
and which is totally irreconcilable with Presbyterian principles.® With respect
to the religious clause in some Burgess oaths which occasioned the original
strife, the preamble to the Basis supposes that there are some “ towns where it
may still exist;” and all the provision it makes with respect to this is, that “ both
Synods agree to use what may appear to them the most proper means for
obtaining the abolition” of it. No provision is made, that, if they shall be

1 Act and Testirnony, in Display, i. 90. congregations; but now they must deter-
Acknowledgment of Sins, ib. 231. mine whether Providence is requiring the

Formerly sessions were left to determine duty, or, in other words, whether it be at all
when the performance of the duty was suit- a duty incumbent on the church in the
able to the circumstances of their respective present times.

214

THE UNITY OF THE CHURCH.

unsuccessful in their applications for an abolition of it, the oath shall not be
taken in the united society ; although it is well known that one of the parties
had all along maintained that Seceders involved themselves in contradiction
by swearing it, and continued, down to the time of the Union, to require all
intrants to public office among them to declare their solemn approbation of an
act condemning it in this point of view. They are thus involved in a judicial
allowance of what they hold to be sinful ; and have recognised a principle
which may be applied to an indefinite extent, and which ought to have been
guarded against with the utmost care, as it enters into all the loose plans of
communion which are so fashionable in the present day. This is still more
evident from the engagement which they have come under, that they “ shall
carefully abstain from agitating in future the questions which occasioned ” the
separation. It is proposed that the United Synod shall prepare a Testimony,
“containing the substance of the Judicial Act and Testimony, the Act con¬
cerning the Doctrine of Grace, and the Answers to Nahn’s Reasons of
dissent.” What some may understand by the substance, it may be difficult to
say ; but if the proposed Testimony really contain the substance of the first
and last named of these papers, the basis will not support the superstructure.
In answer to all this, some will say, we are at full Uberty to hold all our prin¬
ciples as formerly. But such persons should remember, that the question is
not about their principles, but the principles, or rather the public profession
of the body ; and that it has been chiefly by means of the latter, that the
declarative glory of God has been promoted in every age, and his truths and
cause preserved and transmitted to posterity.

It is painful to me to be obliged to speak in this manner of the terms of a
union, which it would have filled my heart with delight to see established on
a solid and scriptural foundation. But in such cases there is a duty incumbent
on all the friends of the cause of the Reformation and the Secession : and this
they must discharge whatever it may cost them, and regardless of the obloquy
that they may hereby incur. They are sacredly bound to adhere to that
cause, to confess it, and, according to the calls of Providence, to appear openly
in its defence. It cannot but be grieving to them to find that the attempt
made to heal the breach among its pi’ofessed friends, has discovered that dis¬
affection to it existed to a greater extent than they could have imagined.
They may be accused as the enemies of peace and union. But they have this
consolation, that they still occupy that ground on which their fathers displayed
a faithful testimony for the truths and laws of Christ against prevailing defec¬
tion ; and that they are adhering, without any reservation, or any mark of
dissent, to that testimony, and to those books of public authority which were
formerly agreed on for settling and preserving religious unity and communion
on the most extended scale. And they are encouraged to maintain this
ground by the hope which they still cherish, that the God of their fathers and
of their vows, will yet, in his merciful providence, bring round a time of refor¬
mation ; and that, when this period shall have arrived, the Westminster
Standards may form a rallying-point around which the scattered friends of
religion, in this land, shall meet, and again happily combine.

SERMONS.

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.A'

ADVEETISEMENI TO THE EIESI EDITION.

A CONSIDEKABLE number of the following Sermons were transcribed by
the lamented Author from his notes for the pulpit, some years before
his death. Though often solicited to publish them, he was prevented,
by other avocations, from completing the proposed volume. The re¬
maining Discourses have been selected from his manuscripts, and the
whole has been arranged with as much attention to order as the nature
of the subjects would admit. In the task of selection the Editor has
been guided chiefly by the state of preparation in which the notes were
found, though in some measure also by the earnestly expressed desires
of those who heard them delivered. In one or two instances, what
occupied two Discourses in the delivery has been put into one. The
judicious reader will be prepared to expect, in a series of Discourses on
topics nearly allied to each other, and of a strain almost uniformly
practical, an occasional coincidence of sentiment and phraseology ; and
he will understand the feelings which have restrained the Editor from
attempting such alterations as might have been expected from the
Author.

With regard to the reception of those Sermons which were prepared
by the Author’s own hand, the Editor has no right to pretend uneasi¬
ness. It is, however, with no small degree of anxiety that he presents
along with these the other Discourses which fill the volume. Well
knowing the extreme care which his late revered father was accustomed
to bestow on all his compositions intended for the public eye, he feels
as if he had presumed too far on the silence of the grave, by publishing
what the Author would never have given to the world, in such an

218

ADVEKTISEMENT.

imperfect form, during his lifetime. There is some relief in the reflection,
that what it might have been unworthy of the living Author to beqireath
as a gift, it may be permitted us to present as a memorial ; and to those,
at least, who enjoyed his ministrations, the value of these relics of their
departed minister may be enhanced by that very absence of finish
which may be found to distinguish them from the other Sermons in the
volume.

To those who have expressed a wish to see a volume of his father’s
Lectures printed, the Editor begs to intimate that they have been left
in such a state as might warrant the publication of a select number,
and that if they should still be called for, he shall commence the pre¬
paration of them for the press as speedily as his other engagements
will allow. In closing his present task, it is his humble trust that
these Sermons, with all the disadvantages under which they necessarily
labour, may be pronounced, as a whole, not unworthy of their Author ;
and that they may be blessed for leading the reader, under the solemn
impression of the mournful event to which they owe their present ap¬
pearance, to “ consider the end of his conversation, Jesus Christ, the
same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.”

THOMAS M'CRIE.

Clola, by Mintlaw,

January 1836.

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE PRESENT EDITION.

The Sermons of Dr M'Crie, which have been so highly prized, have
been for some time entirely out of print. They are now given exactly as
in the first Edition.

THOMAS M'CRIE.

Edinburgh, Od. 1856.

CONTENTS.

SERMON I.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

Page

By the grace of God I am what I am. — 1 Cor. xv. 10, . . . 223

SERMON II.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

By the grace of God I am what I am. — 1 Cor. xv. 10, . . . 238

SERMON III.

THE ADVANTAGES OP ADVERSITY, ILLUSTRATED IN THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH.

He sent a man before them, even J oseph, who was sold for a servant ;
whose feet they hurt with fetters : he was laid in iron : until the time
that his word came ; the word of the Lord tried him. The king sent
and loosed him ; even the ruler of the people, and let him go free. He
made him lord of his house, and ruler of all his substance ; to bind
his princes at his pleasure, and teach his senators wisdom. — Psalm, cv.
17—22, . 254

SERMON IV.

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

The Lord give mercy to the house of Onesiphorus ; for he oft refreshed
me, and was not ashamed of my chain : but, when he was in Rome,
he sought me out very diligently, and found me. The Lord grant unto
him that he may find mercy of the Lord in that day : and in how many
things he ministered unto me at Ephesus, thou knowest very well. —
2 Tim. i. 16—18, .

272

220

CONTENTS.

SERMON V.

THE PRATER OP THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest unto thy
kingdom. ^ — Luke, xxiii. 42, ......

Page

286

SERMON VI.

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

My Lord and my God. — John, xx. 28, .... . 305

SERMON VI r.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me ?

And he said unto him. Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest
that I love thee. — John, xxi. 17, ..... 317

SERMON VIII.

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

Unto him that loved us. — Rev. i. 5, . . . . . . 329

SERMON IX.

THE SYMPATHY OP CHRIST.

For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling
of our infirmities ; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet with¬
out sin. — Her. iv. 15, . . . . . . . 343

SERMON X.

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

Now I beseech you, brethren, for the love of the Spirit. — ROM. xv. 30, . 358

SERMON XI.

CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

And what I say unto you, I say unto all. Watch. — Mark, xiii. 37,

372

CONTENTS.

221

SERMON XII,

THE FEAR OF DEATH.

And deliver them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject
to bondage. — Heb. ii. 15,

Page

382

SERMON XIII.

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS,

Xiot me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his ! —

Numb, xxiii. 10,- ........ 394

SERMON XIV.

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHRIST.

I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that

which I have committed unto him against that day. — 2 Tim. i. 12, . 408

SERMON XV,

ASSURANCE.

I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that

which I have committed unto him against that day. — 2 Tim. i. 12, . 418

SERMON XVI.

THE RECOVERED DISCIPLE.

When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. — Luke, xxii. 32, . 431

SERMON XVII.

THE SPIRIT OP JUDGMENT.

In that day shall the Lord of hosts be for a spirit of judgment to him

that sitteth in judgment. — Isa. xxviii. 5, 6, . . . . 444

SERMON XVIII,

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

0 my Lord, what shall be the end of these things ? — Daniel, xii. 8,

462

222

CONTENTS.

SERMON XIX.

GEIEP FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because tbey keep not thy law.
— Psalm cxix. 136, .......

Page

476

SERMON XX.

THE BETTER COUNTRY.

But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly. — Heb. xi. 16, 488

SERMON XXI.

THE FAN IN CHRIST’S HAND.

Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather
his wheat into the gamer ; but he wUl burn up the chaff with unquench¬
able Are. — Matthew, iii. 12, ..... .

501

S E E M 0 N S.

SERMON I.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

“ By the grace of God I am what I am.” — 1 Cor. sv. 10.

It is not my intention from these words to discourse of the nature of
the grace of God, or to prove the necessity of divine influence on the
hearts of men, to form them to goodness and happiness. But I propose
to show what Paul became through the grace of God, or, in other words,
to set before you the leading features of his character as a Christian
and apostle.

Every one who has read the New Testament must have observed, that,
next to “the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus,”
Paul is the most extraordinary person whose name has been handed
down to us in connection with the propagation of the Gospel, and the
establishment of the Christian Church. The Church of Eome, building
on a single declaration of our Saviour greatly misunderstood,, has pre¬
tended that Peter was the Prince of the apostles, and universal Bishop.
If this had been the fact, it would have been rather strange that we have
a much fuller account in the sacred records of the labours of Paul in
spreading the Gospel, than we have of those of Peter; and that we
possess only two epistles of the latter, while no fewer than thirteen,
written by the former, are included in the canon of Scripture. Not
that we would infer from this, that Paul was advanced to any species
of primacy, either in respect of jurisdiction, dignity, or order among
the apostles. They were aU brethren, and he that was “greatest”
among them, in point of usefulness, was to act as “ the least,” and he
that appeared to be “chief” in gifts, was not only to call himself, but
also to behave as, “ the servant of all.” He that said, “ I am of Paul,”
and he that said, “ I am of Cephas,” in the primitive church (for the
spirit of vainglory and faction, which produced the Popedom, began

224

SERMON I.

early to work), were equally blamable : neither of them was crucified
for us, nor were we baptised in the name of either, and their highest
honour is, not that they were lords of God’s heritage, but ensamples to
it, and helpers of its joy. I mean not to speak of the apostolical
authority of Paid ; nor do I intend pronouncing his panegyric, a species
of discourse in which the excellences of the person described are rhetori¬
cally exaggerated, and artificially blazoned, so as to form a masterpiece,
in which the device and image of the artist are conspicuously enstamped.
Such an attempt the sacredness of the subject forbids ; the text frowns
on it ; and it would violate instead of embalming the memory of one
whose uniform object it was to “preach not himself, but Christ Jesus
the Lord,” and who had these words more than any other in his mouth
— “ Glory not in men.” But without incurring this censure, we may
surely dwell for a little on a character which meets us so frequently in
the wmrd of God. It cannot, surely, be unlawful for us to trace and
point out the marks of the finger of God in framing this “ chosen vessel ”
to bear “the unsearchable riches of Christ” to the Gentiles. We must
be prone to idolatry, indeed, if we are in danger of putting that servant
out of his place who is continually reminding us that he is “ nothing,”
and that his Master is “ all in all.” In delineating his excellences, and
describing his abundant labours, is it possible that we should be puffed
up, and not rather humbled and mortified at our falling so far behind a
man, who, after all, disclaimed everything bordering on perfection, and
gloried only in his infirmities 1

The information which the New Testament contains respecting Paul,
appears to point out his character as peculiarly deserving our attention,
while it furnishes us with ample materials for describing it. In the
Acts of the Apostles we have a narrative of his travels and preaching by
the pen of one who accompanied him for many years— who enjoyed the
very best opportunities of knowing his inmost sentiments, and of observ¬
ing his conduct among Jews and Gentiles, among friends and enemies,
in circumstances of honour and of disgrace— and whose record of what
he saw and heard bears the most indubitable and convincing marks of
truth and ingenuousness. Besides this, we have the confidential letters
(which, of all things, reflect the character most truly) written by the
apostle to individuals and churches in different parts of the world, and
at different periods of his life, which show him to be always the same
person, and on comparing which with the narrative of Luke, we dis¬
cover such incidental coincidences in facts, sentiments, and feelings, as
throw equal light and authority on both. Those who have carefully
examined these documents, and especially those who have entered into
the spirit of his epistles, are admitted to all those advantages which
were enjoyed by his contemporaries and companions, and may be said,
like Timothy, to have “ fully known his doctrine, manner of life, pur¬
pose, faith, long-suffering, charity, patience, persecutions, afflictions.” ^

» 2 Tim. iii. 10.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

225

Tlie epistles of Paul are, in fact, a continuation of t\\G Acts of the Apostles,
and in them he is the historian of himself, as well as of the churches to
which he wrote. They have often been represented as filled with dis¬
cussions of a speculative and abstruse kind ; but of all writings, sacred
or profane, ancient or modern, I know none in which there is such truth
and force of moral painting, in which there is such a union of doctrine
and practice, and, above all, in which the heart of the author is so com¬
pletely laid open, and all his sentiments, and feelings, and emotions de¬
picted. In his epistles the writer, to use his own expression, may be
“ known and read of all men.” This renders our present task the less
difficult.

‘ With the facts of the early life of Paul you are all well acquainted,
and it is unnecessary for me to do more than advert to them. Born in
Tarsus, a free city of Cilicia, and of Jewish parents, he inherited from
his father the rights of a Roman citizen. Educated by Gamaliel, a cele¬
brated teacher at Jerusalem, he made great proficiency in the know¬
ledge of the Jewish religion ; and having joined the popular sect of the
Pharisees, was held in reputation for the correctness of his manners, and
his scrupulous observance of the written and traditionary law of his
fathers. When Christianity first made its appearance, he opposed it
with all the keenness of the sect to which he belonged ; and so infiamed
was his zeal, that he became an active and forward instrument in the
hands of those who sought to extirpate the nascent religion, and not
contented with persecuting its followers to death in Jerusalem, obtained
a commission from the chief priests to make inquisition after them in
foreign cities, and to bring them to punishment. But he was arrested in
this mad career, convinced that he had been ignorantly warring against
the truth, and wonderfully converted from an enemy to a friend, from a
persecutor into a preacher of the Christian faith. Into the subject of his
conversion, which has been treated at large, and justly considered as one
of the leading secondary evidences of the truth of the Gospel, I propose
not to enter. When sincerely believed, and deeply felt, Christianity is
calculated to work so thorough a change on the whole frame of the mind
— often sharpening the understanding and enlarging the soul, as well as
regulating and purifying the heart — that it is difficult to determine
what the natural dispositions of Paul were. From the facts preserved
respecting the early part of his life, and from a cautious comparison of
them with his subsequent conduct, we may perhaps be warranted in
drawing the following inferences. He possessed a good understanding,
which enabled him to judge of the characters of men, and manage their
various tempers. Pride, rather than vanity of mind, was his besetting
sin. Naturally open and ardent in his temper, he was ready to follow
violent rather than deceitful courses — to be a warm friend and a deter¬
mined, but not concealed, enemy. His zeal, though misguided, and his
prejudices, though strong, differed from those of a person of weak intel¬
lect, or who is actuated by interested motives ; and having embarked

226

SERMON I.

in a cause which his judgment approved, it is probable that he was
endued with a resolution and courage which disposed him to prosecute
it, notwithstanding difficulties and dangers. I say it is probable ; for
there are unquestionable instances of persons, naturally irresolute and
timid, who, under the influence of religion, have acquired a high degree
of firmness of mind and moral courage. What was vicious or excessive
in the temper of Paul, the grace of God corrected, while it strengthened
and sanctified whatever was of a different kind, and rendered it emi¬
nently conducive, under the guidance of higher principles, to the
advancement of the divine glory, and the best interests of mankind.

I shall, in the first place, take a general survey of the character of
Paul ; and, in the second place, point out some of its discriminating
features.

I. Let us begin with a short survey of his labours as an indefatigable
preacher of Christianity. This was the sphere in which he was formed
by the grace of God for moving, and in which all the excellences of his
private character shone forth. He was chosen, not merely for his own
sake, but “for the elect’s sake, that they also might obtain the salva¬
tion which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.” The heavenly trea¬
sure was bestowed on him, that he might “ make many rich ” along with
himself. He was called at the same moment to be a saint and an
apostle ; and “ the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the
face of Jesus Christ” shone upon his mind, that being made “light in
the Lord,” he might irradiate the minds of multitudes. “ It pleased
God,” says he, “ who separated me from my mother’s womb, and called
me by his grace, to reveal his Sou in me, that I might preach him among
the heathen.” ^

Paul was invested with the entire apostolical office, and we And him
discharging every part of it. He dispensed both sacraments, planted
and watered churches, ordained elders in them, corrected abuses which
crept into them, assisted in settling such controversies as disturbed the
whole Christian community, or particular sections of it, and on more
than one occasion promoted and took charge of charitable contributions
made for the relief of poor or persecuted saints. But the principal
employment to which he considered himself as called was that of
preaching the Gospel. To this he devoted himself, his time, his talents,
his strength, suffering nothing to interfere with it, and devolving upon
his companions and helpers those duties which might distract him from
his main and most appropriate work. “ For Christ,” says he, “ sent me
not to baptise, but to preach the Gospel.”^

No sooner received he his commission, and his qualifications for
executing it, than he entered on the arduous undertaking, which he
prosecuted during a period of nearly thirty years, with amazing success,
imtil his course was terminated, and his labours crowned with a
1 Gal. i. 16. 2 1 Cor. i. 17.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

227

glorious martyrdom. Besides Judea, lie preached over the extensive
countries of Syria and Cilicia ; of Pamphylia, Pisidia, and Lycaonia ;
of Phrygia and Galatia ; at Ephesus, and other cities of proconsular
Asia; and passing into Europe, he taught in the principal cities of
Greece and of Macedonia, as far as Sclavonia ; in the islands of Cyprus,
Crete, and Melita, and the city of Eome. In the course of his travels,
he converted thousands to the faith of Christ — Jews, Jewish proselytes,
and idolaters, and erected Christian churches in all the principal towns,
the most of which he visited thrice, confiiming the disciples, and adding
to their numbers and their gifts. From the commencement to the
close of his career he was never idle— teaching from house to house,
preaching in season and out of season, by night and by day ; and when
the door of usefulness was shut on him in one place, he removed to
another. During the period of which we read in the New Testament,
the other apostles resided chiefly at Jerusalem, and they appear to have
seldom preached beyond the bounds of Judea before the destruction of
that city. But Paul was specially chosen to propagate Christianity
among the heathen. Considering himself as “ the minister of Jesus
Christ to the Gentiles,” he, with the approbation of his brethren, went
into all the world, preaching the word everywhere, and seeking out
those places, in preference to others, which had not heard the Gospel.
“ I will not dare to speak of any but those things which Christ hath
wrought by me to make the Gentiles obedient by word and deed,
through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God ;
so that, from Jerusalem and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully
preached the Gospel of Christ : yea, so have I strived to preach the
Gospel, not where Christ was named, lest I should build on another
man’s foundation.”^

In the midst of these great labours he composed the letters which
have instructed and made wise to salvation so many thousands besides
those to whom they were immediately addressed, which have diftused
the knowledge of the Gospel far beyond the sphere of his personal
exertions, and will continue, along with the other Scriptures, to difiuse
it more and more, until, having accomplished all their purposes, they
shall be burnt up with the earth and all that is in it.

2. Consider him as a sufferer for the Gospel. It behoved him to
submit to more than toil and fatigue, privations and hardships, in
pursuing the course which he had chosen. At the very commencement
of it he “ suffered the loss of all things,” — of everything which he had
formerly coveted and laboured to acquire, and valued at the highest
rate, and gloried most in — the love of his friends, the high reputation
which he had acquired among his countrymen, the prospects which he
had of worldly advancement ; and, what was still dearer to his proud
and Pharisaical heart, that goodly and rich garb of personal righteous¬
ness which he had woven and embroidered with infinite care, in

1 Rom. XV. 18-20.

228

SEEMON I.

which he had so often looked on himself with inward gratulation and
complacency, and trusted for the approbation of God and men — all, all
this he sacrificed cheerfully, threw it at his feet, and trampled on it as
so much dirt and refuse, that he might “ win Christ and be found in
him,” clothed with his righteousness } and' that he might discharge that
high ministry to which he was called of heaven. “ I will show him,”
said Jesus to Ananias, when he sent him to baptise his new convert,
“ how great things he must suffer for my name’s sake ;” as if the only
thing to which he had been called was to suffer ! And he gave him an
early proof of the treatment which he might expect from men in his
service : for scarcely had he avowed himself a believer in Christianity,
and begun to “ preach the faith which once he destroyed,” when the
Jews sought to kill him ; and so keen was their search after him, that
it was necessary for his new friends to let him down by a basket over
the wall of Damascus. From this time forward he was continually
exposed to the deadly hatred of his unbelieving countrymen, along
with the contempt and rage of the heathen world. Liike has given us
some account of the sufferings he endured, and the hairbreadth escapes
he made by sea and land, during the period that he accompanied him.
They are frequently adverted to by the apostle himself in his writings.
But we could have had no idea of their number, variety, and greatness,
if he had not been led to specify them in one of his epistles, in answer
to certain false teachers who aimed at marring his usefulness by dero¬
gating from the proofs of his apostleship. “Are they ministers of
Christ ? (I speak as a fool) I am more ; in labours more abundant, in
stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the
Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten
with rods, once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and
a day have I been in the deep ; in journeyings often, in perils of waters,
in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by
the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in
the sea, in perils among false brethren ; in weariness and painfulness,
in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and
nakedness. Besides those things that are without, that which cometh
upon me daily, the care of all the churches.” (2 Cor. xi. 23-28.) You
will observe, my brethren, that this was written ten years before his
death, and that it is but a bare catalogue of the kinds of sufifering to
which he had been subjected, without mentioning particulars or detail¬
ing instances. What a fine opportunity would this have afforded to
some persons to gratify what is called an innocent vanity, cover their
detractors with shame, and awaken the slumbering sympathies of their
friends, by entering into a minute detail of some of the most interesting
and affecting of the tales of danger and death, by which it would have
been easy to fill a letter larger than any in the New Testament ! But
the apostle hurries rapidly over them. So far from boasting of them,
he apologises for mentioning them, and declares that he “ will glory in

THE CHARACTEE OF PAUL,

229

the things which concern his infirmities.” The only one of which he
gives any particulars was the most inglorious of his escapes (verses 32,
33). And he states, as the crowning and heaviest article of his distress,
the burden which daily pressed upon his mind from (what many would
have contrived to make light enough) “ the care of all the churches.”

3, Consider him as an advanced and experienced Christian. Deeply
impressed as he was with the importance of his apostolical office, and
assiduous in the discharge of its duties, he did not forget that he had a
soul to be saved or lost, as well as the meanest of those to whom he
preached. He found time to attend to and watch over this amidst the
multiplicity of his public cares and watchings ; and hereby left an
example to all who should afterwards be intrusted with the Gospel.
He knew that persons might possess the most splendid and even edi¬
fying gifts ; and that they might perform the most specious acts of
charity and piety, and after all be destitute of saving grace, and
strangers to the power of godliness. And he did not neglect to apply
this test to his own character : “ Though I speak with the tongues of
men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding
brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I bestow all my goods to
feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not
charity, it profiteth me nothing.” (1 Cor. xiii. 1-3). He had heard of
Judas, and of Ananias and Sapphira, and he did not look upon their
attainments as the ne plus ultra of hypocrisy and professional religion.
He knew that persons might open the door to others, and usher them
into the kingdom of heaven, and yet be themselves shut out ; that
they might be employed as heralds to proclaim peace to others, and as
ambassadors might reconcile them to God, and yet continue to be
themselves enemies to Him. And knowing these things, he was anxious
to prevent such a dreadful issue, and therefore laboured not only that
he “might by all means save some” by the Gospel, but also that he
“ might be partaker thereof with them.” “ I keep under my body,”
adds he, “ and bring it into subjection ; lest that by any means, when I
have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.” ^

Though favoured with an immediate revelation from heaven to qualify
him for his office, this did not hinder him from searching the scriptures
daily, and comparing spiritual things with spiritual, that he might be
the more fit for teaching the way of salvation to others ; nor did it
prevent him from meditating upon these things that he might save
himself, applying them to his own soul in the exercise of faith and love,
and living under their reviving, purifying, and consolatory influence.
Wliat great progress had he made in the Christian life when he presents
himself to our view in the first written of his epistles ; and yet how
dissatisfied with his attainments, and eager in pressing forward ! What
extensive and deep insight into the divine law ! How abiding his
sense of the deceitfulness of sin, the remaining depravity of his own

1 1 Cor. ix. 23-27.

230

SERMOX I.

heart, the seductions of the world, the wiles of Satan ! How pungent
his grief at his nonconformity to the will of God ! How ardent his
desires to be delivered from it ! At the same time, how forcibly did he
feel the all-subduing, heart-constraining influence of the love of Christ,
which he commended so warmly to others ! How transporting his
admiration of its incomprehensible dimensions ! How firm his reliance
on the mercy of God and the merits of Christ ! How triumphant his
glorying in the cross of his Saviour ! How unspeakably joyful and full
of glory his hope of immortality ! Ah, my bretliren (whatever it may
be with some of us), it was no cold notions that he delivered, when he
discoursed of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, of the wrath of God which
is revealed against it, of the curse of the broken law, of the sting of
death, and of the fearful looking for of judgment ; of the bhndness of
the natural man to the things of God, and his aversion to the righteous¬
ness of God; of the law in the members, the besetting sin, and the
battle between the flesh and the spirit. It was no empty speculation
with him when he descanted on the mysteries of redeeming love, on the
blessedness of the man who has been pardoned and justified by the
faith of Christ, on the life of faith, on the mortification of sin, on cruci¬
fixion to the world, on spirituality of mind and heavenliness of con¬
versation, on rejoicing in tribulation and desiring to depart and be with
Christ. You must have observed that it is his almost ordinary style to
write in the first person, and that he frequently changes from the plural
to the singular number. Other writers have had recourse to this
method ; but how different the effect produced on us by it ! In them
we are pleased with it as disfigure, in Paul it strikes us as a reality ; in
them it is painting, in him it is life. This is the great charm in the
style of Paul. I repeat what I said before, he is the most practical and
experimental of writers. The truths of the Gospel come forth warm
from a heart that burned with love to them ; the dictates of inspiration
are pronounced by one who had previously made them his own, and
fed upon them. Who does not perceive the difference between the
constrained declarations of the son of Peor, and the productions of
those “ holy men who spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,”
when they discourse of the “ sufierings of Christ and the glory that
should follow V' The exclamation of Balaam is beautiful, and it woifid
have been pathetic, too, did we not perceive the eyes of the wretched
prophet riveted, even when he was uttering it, on the wages of un¬
righteousness : “ Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my
latter end be as his !” But of the exclamation of Paul on the same
subject, we feel it a kind of desecration to say that it is sublime and
beautiful, for it is more than both : “lam persuaded that neither death,
nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall
be able to separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus
our Lord.” We can all join, my brethren, in the prayer of Balaam ; but

THE CHARACTEK OF PAUL.

231

who among us is prepared, without faltering, to pronounce the assured,
the unhesitating, the bold yet believing, the triumphant protestation
of Paul ?

II. Let us now inquire into some of the more minute and discrimi¬
nating features in the character of Paul.

1. He was distinguished for humility. This may be considered as a virtue
peculiar to Christianity, as it had no place in the most approved systems
of morality among the heathen. Every genuine Christian possesses it,
and we have no reason to doubt that it shone in the conduct of all the
apostles. But there are some circumstances which render the example
of humility in Paul brighter and more deserving of our attention. The
Pharisees were notorious for their pride, ostentation, and contempt of
others ; and our apostle, before his conversion, appears to have been
strongly infected with the characteristical vice of the sect to which he
belonged. The high office to which he was raised, the extraordinary
revelations made to him, the eminent gifts with which he was endowed,
the great sufferings which he endured for Christ, the abundance of his
labours and the uncommon success with which they were crowned, not
to mention his attainments in Christian knowledge and experience,
were but too apt to kindle those embers of pride and vainglory which
remain hid in the hearts of the best men on earth. But he watched
over these with the utmost jealousy, and by Christ strengthening him,
he was able to keejD them under. Instead of dwelling on the numerous
proofs of his humility, it may be more profitable for you, and more
illustrative of his character, to point out some of those means by which
he was able to check and subdue the opposite principle which once
reigned uncontrolled in his breast. In the fii'st place, he cherished a
habitual recollection of what he had been during the time of his igno¬
rance and unbelief. Often do we find him holding this mirror up to his
eyes in public, and we may believe he did the same in private. When¬
ever he had occasion to mention the honourable function to which he
was called, or the exertions which he had made in it, he takes care to
draw this shade over his eyes, as you may see in the verse next our
text : “ For I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called
an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” This humbling
fact he introduces into each of his public apologies, and, what is more
striking, we find him introducing it into one of the last epistles which
he wrote. And how does he speak of it ? As. if it happened only
yesterday, and as if he never had confessed it find mourned over it
before : “ I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who hath enabled me, for that
he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry, who was before a
blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious.” * Secondly, when he enjoyed
that ecstatic vision referred to in 2 Cor. xii., he tells us : “ Lest I should
be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelation, there

1 1 Tim. i. 18, 19.

232

SERMON I.

was given me a thorn in the flesh.” Some think he refers here to the
ebullitions of that sanguine temper which was constitutional to him,
and by which he was apt to be hurried into acts that grieved him. It
is more probable that it was a bodily infirmity which impeded him in
his public teaching, and rendered it less pleasing to his hearers. But
whatever it was, he improved it as an antidote against pride, and
a motive for constant dependence on divine aid ; and accordingly he
declares that he would “ glory,” not in his sufferings, or escapes, or reve¬
lations, but in his infirmity. Thirdly, the fickleness of those among
whom he had laboured, and their ungrateful requital of his services,
helped to keep him humble. The Christians in Galatia who despised
not the “temptation which was in his flesh,” but received him “as
an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus,” and who would have “plucked
out their own eyes and given them to him,” when he first preached the
Gospel to them, suffered themselves to be so bewitched as to throw away
“ the liberty wherewith Christ had made them free and when he
stepped in and would have undeceived them, they counted him an
officious intermeddler and an enemy. The same kind of treatment he
met with from the Christians at Corinth, to whom he had preached'the
Gospel “ with demonstration of the Spirit and power,” and imparted a
variety of supernatural gifts, but who, on his departure, suffered his
character to be injured and his gifts disparaged by certain foolish, airy,
and tumid teachers, who, to accomplish their own selfish ends, had
insinuated themselves into their affections, and abused their Christian
simplicity. He must be fond of applause indeed, who sighs for that
wliich has been lavishly sprinkled on the most worthless, who is willing
to be made a king to-day at the expense of being stoned to-morrow, who
glories in being now saluted as a god, at the risk of being anon devoured
by the worms that worshipped him. In t\ie, fourth place, he cherished
a humble spirit by reflecting on his imperfections both in knowledge
and practice. Though he was an apostle, though he had seen the Lord,
though he had the gift of prophecy, “ yet,” says he, “ I know but in part,
I prophesy but in part.” If he could say, “ With my mind I serve the
law of Christ,” he found daily reason to confess, “ I find a law in my
members warring against the law of my mind.” And, with respect to
his general character, he solemnly and repeatedly disclaims all ideas of
perfection even in his best moments : “Not that I have attained, either
am already perfect.” In fine, he had a habitual conviction that what¬
ever was good about him was owing to the grace or free favour of God
— a sentiment deeply engraven on his mind, and which he expresses
twice in the verse before us.

By these and similar means the apostle repressed the emotions of
pride, and grew in humility in proportion to his growth in knowledge
and in all goodness. When it was necessary for him to speak of himself,
he takes care that his language should be such as not to provoke vain¬
glory either in his own breast or in that of others. Has he occasion to

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

233

speak of his office ? It is the grace of apostleship. Of his qualifica¬
tions for it % They are gifts. Of his having laboured abundantly in
it? “Not I, but the grace of God in me.” Of his success? It
is God that giveth the increase. Of his sufferings ? He had borne
them through Christ strengthening him. From the same principle we
find him often using the plural number, and speaking in the name of
his brethren, when he describes actions and qualities which were
peculiarly his own. If he ever adopts language which appears at
variance with his usual modesty, it is by constraint, and for the purpose
of silencing those who aimed at injuring the Gospel by detracting from
the credit of his ministry. On such occasions, instead of being puffed
up, he appears humbled at being obliged to assume the style of his de¬
tractors. And withal, there is such an ingenuousness and frankness in
his apology, such a delicate raillery and chiding of his friends for
reducing him to the necessity of saying what, though true, ought to
have come from other lips, that every one must perceive that his
temper was equally abhorrent of vain boasting and of affected humility.
“ I am become a fool in glorying ; ye have compelled me : for I ought
to have been commended of you ; for in nothing am I behind the very
chiefest apostles, though I be nothing.” ' The finest moral description
falls short of this natural burst of feeling. In reflecting on what he had
said he is covered with blushes ; seeking to relieve his mind from the
confusion and embarrassment which he felt, he is gradually led to use
language even higher than what he had formerly employed ; upon which
he sinks at once to the expression of his native humility, wrapping him¬
self in the mantle of self-denial and devout abasement. He begins by
acknowledging that he had spoken “ as a fool,” and ends by acknow¬
ledging that he was “ nothing.”

2. The next feature of his character to which I would call your
attention is disinterestedness. In taking up the cross of Christ he
learned to “ deny himself,” and the whole of his subsequent conduct
afforded a bright example of the purest and most disinterested benevo¬
lence. It was under the influence of this principle that he formed the
resolution, upon which he continued to act during his ministry, of
waving the right which he had, both on the principles of reason and
revelation, to be supported by those whom he taught, and of sustaining
himself and assisting his companions by exercising the trade of tent¬
making which he had acquired in his youth. His reasons for this were
as wise and generous as the practice itself was disinterested. He
felt averse to be “ burdensome” to any — he was anxious to convince the
heathen that regard to their spiritual advantage was his only motive for
coming and remaining among them, and he was determined to preserve
his independence as a servant of Christ by avoiding whatever might
seem to prevent him from using the utmost freedom in admonishing and
reproving the converts which he made by his preaching. Itinerant

1 2 Cor. xii. II.

234

SERMON I.

teachers who lectured for money were to be found at that time in all
the cities of Greece. As the Pharisees “ devoured widows’ houses under
the pretence of long prayers,” so there arose at an early period among
the Christians mercenary individuals, who, for “ filthy lucre’s sake,”
taught things which they ought not, subverting whole houses, foment¬
ing divisions, and creating factions ; and such, alas ! is the infirmity of
human nature, and such the smooth arts which mercenary men practise,
and the flattering unction which they apply to the humours of men,
that they often gained a greater ascendancy over the minds of the
Christians than the most gifted and useful of the apostles. This appears
from the severe but friendly irony with which Paid expostulates with
the Christians at Corinth, who had suffered themselves to become the
dupes of their selfish artifice. “ Seeing that many glory after the flesh,
I will glory also ; for ye suffer fools gladly, seeing ye yourselves are
wise : For ye suffer, if a man bring you into bondage, if a man devour
you (eat you up), if a man take of you, if a man exalt himself, if a man
smite you in the face.” ^ Knowing that he had a testimony in the breasts
of those to whom he wrote, that his conduct had been the very reverse
of this, with what boldness does he address them ; “ Receive us : we
have wronged no man ; we have corrupted no man ; we have de¬
frauded no man ! ” ^ But to perceive fully the advantage which his
keeping himself free from pecuniary obligations gave him in refuting
the calumnies of his detractors, and in putting to shame those who
had lent a too credulous ear to them, you must consult the different
parts of his Epistles to the Corinthians in which he alludes to that
topic. His experience of this gave him much satisfaction in reflect¬
ing on the resolution which he had at first adopted on higher
grounds.® By adhering to his original resolution, he also gave an
example of disinterestedness to his brethren, and of industry to
Christians in general, which we find him repeatedly pressing;* and
he felt himself more at liberty to use exertions in procuring contribu¬
tions from the Gentile churches in behalf of the poor saints in Judea,
according to the engagement he had come under to the apostles at
Jerusalem.®

Two circumstances connected with this subject throw considerable
light on that feature of the apostle’s character which we are contem¬
plating. In the first place, though he did not choose to depend for his
livelihood on the churches which he served, yet he vindicated the right
which the ministers of the Gospel had to such support. He did not hold
out his own conduct as an example which ought to be universally imi¬
tated : he did not speak of it in such a strain as in the slightest degree
to disparage or throw a reflection on those who found it necessary, or
who chose to act otherwise than himself. He did not even leave their

1 2 Cor. xi. 18—20. 2 2 Cor. vii. 2.

3 1 Cor. ix. 9, 12, 15, 18 ; comp. 2 Cor. xi. 7 — 12.

< Acts, XX. 33 — 35 ; 2 Thess. iii. 7 — 12 ; Acts, xi. 28 — 30 ; xxiv. 17.

s Acts, xi. 28, 30 ; xxiv. 17 ; Eom. xv. 25—27 ; 1 Cor. xvi. 1—3 ; 2 Cor. viii. ix.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

235

conduct open to challenge, or to be defended by themselves ; but,
knowing that such a vindication would come with a better grace, and
would have more influence from his pen, he applied himself particularly,
and of set purpose, to vindicate the right of his brethren to be sup¬
ported by those among whom they laboured, on principles both human
and divine. How diflerent from the conduct of those who, imitating
the apostle according to the letter, in circumstances very dissimilar,
show but too plainly, by their language, that they have not drunk deep
into his spirit ! In the second place, though he “ did not desire a gift,”
—though he had “learned both to sufterwant and to abound,” — though
he looked on it as his “reward” to “ make the Gospel of Christ without
charge,” and ordinarily acted on that principle, yet, whenever the
assistance of others was requisite to enable him to discharge the high
and indispensable duties of his office, or even to relieve him from great
straits, provided it was offered cheerfully, and not as the price of his
independence, he did not stand on the point of honour, nor proudly or
cynically disdain the benevolence of individuals, or the contributions of
churches. Nor did he seek to conceal any instances of this kind as if
they had been discreditable to him, or inconsistent with the general
principle on which he acted. Hence, referring to the aid which he had
received from the Christians in Macedonia when he preached to the
Corinthians, he says to the latter, in his strong but easy to be under¬
stood language, “ I robbed other churches, taking wages of them, to do
you service.” Hence the frank and warm manner in which he bears
testimony to the uniform attention and kindness of the church at
Philippi, in acknowledging the receipt of a recent contribution from
them : “Not that I speak in respect of want ; for I have learned, in
whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. Notwithstanding ye
have well done that ye did communicate with my affliction. Even in
Thessalonica ye sent once and again unto my necessity. Not that I
desire a gift ; but I desire fruit that may abound to your account. But
I have all, and abound” (hold your hand— send me no more), “I am
full, having received of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from
you, an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing to
God.” (Philip, iv. 10-20.) Read the whole passage, my brethren, at
your leisure. What a union of dignity with humility, of firmness with
sensibility, of disinterestedness with gratitude, of the finest feelings of
the man with the most ardent devotion of the saint ! We see him
standing as a YJriest before the altar, and laying upon it the gift wliich
he had received from the Philippians as a free-will offering, the odour
of which, after refreshing himself, ascended to heaven, mingled with the
incense of his thanksgivings and prayers. The disinterestedness of Paul
was displayed in the receiving, as well as in the refusing, of favours.
What was the return he was prepared to make to these liberal Chris¬
tians 1 He tells them in the same letter. They had given him of their

1 2 Cor. xL 8,

236

BERMON I.

substance ; he was ready to impart to them himself. “ Yea, and if I
be offered (poured out as a libation) on the sacrifice and service of your
faith, I joy and rejoice with you all.”

The disinterested spirit of Paul did not appear only in his readiness
to renounce every pecuniary claim. He was prepared, and stood always
ready, to make a sacrifice of his ease, his health, his strength, his repu¬
tation, his life, in prosecution of his high calling, and for the advance¬
ment of the spiritual welfare of those among whom he laboured ; nor
could their ingratitude and insensibility to his services cool the ardour
of his generous determination to do them good ; “ I will very gladly
spend and be spent for you ; though the more abundantly I love you,
the less I be loved.” i Nor was this disinterested benevolence confined
to those who were Christians. If the maxim be just, “ out of the abun¬
dance of the heart the mouth speaketh,” then his unpremeditated reply
to King Agrippa is a convincing proof of this. Struck with his fervent
appeal to him, and with the character of his whole appearance and
defence, the king could not refrain from exclaiming, “ Almost thou per-
suadest me to be a Christian.” — ■“ I would to God that not only thou,
but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and altogether such
as I am, except these bonds.” 0 how gladly would Paul have con¬
tinued to wear “ these bonds,” — how gladly would he have withdrawn
his “ appeal to Cesar,” and consented to “ go up to Jerusalem, and there
be judged,” provided he could have obtained but half his pious wish !
My brethren, if that sentiment, instead of lying in this despised book,
had occurred in a Greek tragedy or a Roman story, or had it proceeded
from the mouth of a Socrates or a Cicero instead of that of an apostle,
it would have been quoted an hundred times in the writings of the age,
as an effusion of the sublimest and purest benevolence. But, alas ! —
our wits have taste and feeling on every point but one.

How admirably qualified was our apostle for the work to which he
was separated by this part of his character ! Wherever selfishness pre¬
dominates, it mars every great undertaking. It must prove the ruin of
every good cause, and lead to the dissolution of every society which is
not field together by the palpable bonds of interest. Yet how general
its prevalence in the world ; so that we are forced to confess, that those
systems of morality which are founded on it have their counterpart too
exactly in the conduct of mankind, while all our better feelings revolt
from their principles ! How many humbling discoveries of it in the
actions even of good men ! How rare the instances of a person thoroughly
and uniformly disinterested ! The disappointments which he met with
in this respect caused the most pungent grief to Paul. Hence his
pathetic exclamation (which many, I am afraid, read without entering
into the writer’s feelings) on requesting Timothy to be sent to him :
“ For I have no man like-minded : for all seek their own, not the things
which are Jesus Christ’s.”® All! how that word should thrill our

* Philip, ii. 20, 21.

1 2 Cor. xii. 15.

THE CHAKACTER OF PAUL.

237

hearts, awaken our jealousy, and cause alarm ! If it was so in the
primitive times of Christianity, and among those who were around the
apostle, what must it be now and among us ? Doth not the Spirit say
expressly, “ That in the last days perilous times shall come ; for men
shall be lovers of their own selves?”^ Next to disingenuousness and
fraud, nothing was so abhorrent to Paul’s mind, and so apt to excite his
resentment, as selfishness, and the partialities to which it gives rise. It
was, I am inclined to think, a conviction, or apprehension, that he dis¬
cerned the working of this principle in the mind of Barnabas, which led
him into that “ sharp contention ” which parted these dear friends, and
hitherto most cordial fellow-labourers in the Gospel ; for Mark, whom
Barnabas determined to take with them as the companion of their
itinerancy, was his own “ sister’s son.” ^ But neither this circumstance,
nor the consideration that his mother’s house had been the asylum of
the persecuted saints,^ appeared to Paul to be a good reason for choos¬
ing, as an assistant on a religious mission, a young man who had for¬
merly deserted them and the work through levity or selfishness. He
remembered the words of his divine Master, “ Whosoever shall do the
will of God, the same is my brother, and sister, and mother and he
was taught by them, that, though Christianity does not burst asunder
the ties of kindred, it requires of all its followers that they be guided
by higher considerations in advancing its interests. This may throw
light on the bold expression which we find him elsewhere using, when
he is speaking of the obligations which believers are under “ not to live
to themselves, but unto him which died for them and rose again
“ Henceforth know we no man after the flesh ; yea, though we have
known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know we him no
more.”^

We shall pause here for the present. In what has passed under our
review, we have seen convincing proofs of the power of the grace of
God ; but much remains yet to be seen. “ To God only-wise be glory,
through Jesus Christ, for ever. Amen.”,

1 2 Tim. iii. 1, 2.

2 Acts, xii. 12.

2 Acts, XV. 37 — 39 ; comp. Coloss. iv. 10.
< 2 Cor. V. 16.

238

SERMON 11.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL,

“ By the grace of God I am what I am.” — 1 Cor. xv. 10.

We have viewed Paul as an indefatigable preacher of the Gospel, as a
great sufferer for it, and as an advanced and experienced Christian ;
and, proceeding to take a nearer view of his character, we considered
him as distinguished for humility and disinterestedness. Let me now
call your attention to a higher quality.

3. He was of an elevated and enlarged soul. Of this, disinterested¬
ness is an important and indispensable ingredient. He whose ruling
passion is selfishness, or who forms his purposes and regulates his con¬
duct chiefly with a view to his own interest, is incapable of noble
eftbrts, or of generous and heroic deeds. But something more than this
is necessary to constitute greatness of mind. Every good man is not a
great man, and Paul was both. Some persons possess generous and
benevolent dispositions, and, under their influence, are led to make
sacrifices for the relief of others, or the promotion of a public cause ; but
when they come to suffer hardships in consequence of this, and feel
themselves unfit to conflict with “ the sea of troubles ” in which they
are involved, they begin to “sigh and look backwards,” regret the
course which they have adopted, and, if they do not make good their
retreat, sink into inactivity and dejection. If the apostle of the Gentiles
had laboured under this want of firmness and elevation of mind, he
would soon have desisted from his work, or have continued it with
languor and reluctance, instead of glorying, as he did, in his labours,
iufirmities, necessities, and afflictions.

Paul, as we have seen, was distinguished for humility ; but hiunility is
not meanness of spirit, nor is pride to be confounded with elevation of
soul. When we say that a person has a noble spirit, we do not neces¬
sarily mean that he is either haughty or proud ; we intend to convey
the idea that he despises what is mean and base, and unbecoming his
character, rank, or station ; that he is above — that is, incapable of— an
unworthy action; that his aims and pursuits are high, and that he
delights in generous and heroic deeds. Persons of little minds and
slender acquirements are most in danger of being puffed up with pride.
Modesty is the inseparable attendant on great talents — or at least, on

THE CHARACTEE OF PAUL.

239

greatness of soul. Those who have made the highest advances in true
knowledge and virtue, perceive most clearly the vast disproportion be¬
tween that which they aim at, and that which they have reached ; they,
accordingly, feel disposed to undervalue rather than overvalue their
attainments ; and, compared with what is above them, the distance be¬
tween themselves and those who are beneath them dwindles in their
eyes, as they look first at the one and then at the other, to a span, to an
handbreadth, to nothing. Yet they maintain their elevation, and con¬
tinue to ascend higher. Self-complacency and self-glorification are the
feelings of a person who has ceased to aspire. The very aspirations of
a noble nature, and his efforts to rise, imply dissatisfaction with himself.
And that this was the state of Paul’s mind we learn from his own de¬
claration : “Not as though I had already attained, either were already
perfect ; but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are be¬
hind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press
toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ
Jesus.” ^ But though he had learned “not to think of himself more
highly than he ought,” and “ in honour to prefer others,” yet he knew
how to vindicate his gifts and labours against those who invidiously
disparaged them, and how to bring down vain and arrogant boasters to
their proper level.* Though he scrupled not to call himself “ the least
of the apostles,” yet, when some attempted to derogate from the
authority of his office, by extolling those who had been the companions
and brethren of our Lord, he could adopt a very different strain ;
“ Those who seemed to be somewhat, it maketh no matter to me (God
accepteth no man’s person) ; those who seemed to be somewhat, in con¬
ference added nothing to me.”® A conscious dignity runs through his
language and behaviour to believers and unbelievers, friends and foes.
He knew what became him, and what he was entitled to as a man and
a Roman, as a Christian and an apostle ; and although he could “ abase
himself” for the good of others, and endure with patience and meekness
both bonds and scourging, yet he did not think it his duty to expose
himself to be trampled upon to gratify the humours of men, and ne¬
glected no opportunity of standing up for and maintaining his privileges.
The most high-spirited Roman could not evince more jealousy in the
maintenance of his rights of citizenship than he did at Philippi, at
Jerusalem, and at Cesarea.^

I have made these remarks with the view of correcting certain mis¬
takes on this subject which are far from being uncommon, and not be¬
cause the quality of the apostle’s mind, which I have at present in my
eye, consisted in conscious dignity. It consisted in high aims, directed
by enlarged views, and supported by generous and powerful principles
of action. Religion, by calling men to the contemplation of a Being of
infinite excellence, and making their chief duty and joroper hapinness to

1 PUil. iii. 12—14.
3 Gal. ii. 6.

2 2 Cor. X. 7—11 ; xi. 6—21 ; xii. 12.

< Acts, xvi. 37 ; xx. 20—28 ; xxv. 8—11.

240

SEEMON II.

lie in resembling, pleasing, and enjoying Him, tends naturally to gene¬
rate such a state of mind. And Christianity, by the principles which it
infuses, the examples which it furnishes, and the prospects which it
opens up, is eminently calculated to elevate and ennoble. How can it
be otherwise 1 Does it teach men that they have immortal souls, formed
after the image of their Maker, and which, though fallen and ruined,
are capable of being restored, and destined to be raised to a higher
than their pristine state ; that they have been redeemed, not with such
corruptible things as silver and gold, but with a price of inestimable
value ; that they are born again from above ] that their bodies are liv¬
ing temples in which God dwells ; that they are sons of God, and heirs
of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away ; —
does it teach even the poorest that God hath chosen them ; that the
Gospel is preached to them ; that they are rich in faith, and heirs of a
kingdom ; that they are placed under a special providence, and favoured
with the ministry of angels ; that they are redeemed to be a royal
priesthood to God ; in short, that all things are theirs — the world, life,
and death, things present and things to come ; and can they believe
these things, and live under the influence of them, and not have their
minds elevated, enlarged, invigorated? Christianity is calculated to
form characters of whom “ the world is not worthy,” and who look
upon the whole world as not worthy to be an inheritance and portion to
them ; who would not be bribed by it to do an action which is dis¬
honourable to the holy name which they bear, and the family in heaven
and earth to which they belong ; and who, though all its kingdoms,
with all their glory, were laid at their feet, would not make it their god,
or say to it, “ Thou art my confidence.” Brought to a close and entire
dependence on God, they feel independent of all things else; and though
ready to “ become the servants of all men ” for their good, “ will not be
brought under the power of any,” by yielding them a slavish subjection.
Reconciled to God, and assured that nothing can separate them from
his love in Christ, they live above the world while in it ; its changes do
not essentially affect their happiness ; they are prepared to quit it, and
look forward to death as the period of their emancipation ; and yet they
look upon it as their high duty to glorify God here, and do not consider
that they are at liberty to throw away their lives, or to leave their pre¬
sent station, until they are relieved and dismissed by him to whom they
live and die. Secure in the protection of the Omnipresent, they fear no
evil ; assured of the help of the Omnipotent, they deem no task to which
they are called hopeless or impracticable. Such is the genius of
Christianity, and such the characters which it forms.

But every man in his own order. There is one glory of the sun,
another of the moon, and another of the stars ; and even one star
differeth from another star in glory. All have not the same clear and
comprehensive knowledge of the Gospel, all have not the same full and
overpowering assurance of its truth ; the hearts of all are not alike laid

THE CHAKACTER OF PAUL.

241

open, and kept open, to its influence, so as that it should “ have free
course and be glorifled,” by occupying and swaying their every faculty
and power. “ There is a diversity of operations,” though “ it is the
same God that worketh all in all.” Nature has endowed some men with
a greatness of soul above others ; and there is a similar diversity and
gradation in the creations of grace. When Saul was anointed by
Samuel to be king of Israel, the Spirit, we are told, came upon him, and
“ God gave him another heart ; ” — a generous, noble, princely spirit,
qualifying him for the high station to which he was destined. And
when the New Testament Saul was set apart to a high office in the
church, “ God gave him another heart ; ” — a magnanimity corresponding
to the greatness of the work to which he was called, not only as an
apostle, but the apostle of the Gentiles — the apostle of the world.

You may be disposed, my brethren, to compare the work allotted to
Paul, to that of one who, in our day, sets out on a mission to convert
the heathen. But they are, in fact, very different. The modern
missionary must no doubt make sacrifices, and lay his account with
difficulties; but he has great -encouragements. He leaves behind him
a multitude of friends, who take a warm interest in his welfare, and
are ready to receive him back with cordiality, provided he is unsuc¬
cessful. He goes out from a country the very name of which is suffi¬
cient to procure him a ready reception, and protect him from personal
danger from the most distant and barbarous tribes. Above all, he has
the satisfaction of reflecting, that Christianity is already established in
the earth, and can be exposed to no risk from the failure of his expedi¬
tion. But Paul left few friends behind him. His own countrymen were
his greatest enemies ; and instead of offering him the prospect of an
asylum, if he were forced to retreat, were the means of stirring up per¬
secution against him wherever he went. He had no earthly protector
or patronage to look to. “ Christ crucified,” who had been “ to the
Jews a stumblingblock,” had not yet been “ preached to the Gentiles ;”
and that he should be “ believed on by the world,” was then in the
highest degi’ee improbable, according to all the views of human reason.
The obstacles which resisted the propagation of the Gospel presented
themselves on every side, rising one behind another — the jealous policy
of rulers, the pride of philosophers, the self-interest of a crafty and long-
established priesthood, and the ignorance, superstition, and brutal rage
of a licentious populace. What a combination of qualities did it require
in the person of the individual, who, in the name of God, first attacked
and broke through these barriers ! What faith, confidence, and courage
in making the attack ! What firmness, self-possession, caution, circum¬
spection, in keeping the ground which had been gained ! What forti¬
tude, resolution, and patience in enlarging it ! It required a soul raised
to a high pitch, not by sudden impressions and the force of a heated
imagination, but by enlightened and steady principles ; a soul wound
up in aU its faculties, intellectual and moral, regulated, balanced, sus-

242

SERMON II.

tained, and furnished with a spring which could bear the severest
jiressure, which would not wear itself away by its own motion, nor
suffer derangement from the changes of external circumstances : a soul
exalted above the world, and all those worldly motives by which men
are ordinarily actuated, attracted, or repelled ; and disengaged from all
selfishness, effeminacy, envy, illiberality, and those narrow prejudices
which are founded on the distinction of nations, classes, and conditions
in life ; a soul filled with supreme love to God, and ardent love to man,
fired with heavenly ambition to advance the divine glory in the highest,
and promote the eternal welfare of mankind, and which, in pursuing
this noble object, was prepared to make all sacrifices, sustain all fatigues,
run all hazards, endure all sufferings. And such, my brethren, was the
soul of Paul. At the call of God, he went forth into the world, “ bear¬
ing ” (it was all his armour) “ the name of the Lord Jesus ” — not know¬
ing whither he w'ent, but prepared to go wherever Providence pointed
the way, to the north, the south, the east, or the west ; and not know¬
ing wdiat would befall him, nor moved by the warnings which he received
in every city, that bonds and imprisonments awaited him. His heart
was enlarged to all the world, and he trusted to his Master to open
before him the door of faith, and to preserve him as long as he had
services for him to perform. Never did conqueror, whose breast swelled
with the love of fame, pant so eagerly for a field on which to signalise
his prow^ess, as he panted to enlarge the boundaries of the kingdom of
grace, and to multiply the bloodless triumphs of the cross. When he
had planted the Gospel in one city or country, he took his departure to
another, leaving it to others to enter on the fruits of his labours ; and
uninterrupted as his exertions, and rapid as his movements w^ere, they
were yet outrun by the celerity of his desires, which had marked out
beforehand as the scenes of future labours, spots which, there is reason
to think, he never reached during the limited period of his usefulness.
Hear his own wmrds to the Christians at Rome, whom he had not yet
personally visited, and mark how he speaks of a projected expedition
into Spain : — “ I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians,
both to the wise and to the unwise. So, as much as in me is, I
am ready to preach the Gospel to you that are at Rome also. — Now
having no more place (of usefulness) in these parts, and having a
great desire these many years to come unto you ; whensoever I take my
journey into Spain, I will come to you. — And I am sure that, when
I come unto you, I shall come in the fulness of the blessing of the
gospel of Christ.” How was he sure of this Because he had
long felt, and at that moment continued to feel, that Gospel flowing
out of his heart in irrepressible desires to be the means of blessing
them. What a strong expression of the state of his feelings ! He knew
the gift of God, and had drunk of that spiritual water, which was in Ins
heart a well of living water springing up to the supply of himself and
of many, and which, the more that was drawui from it, flowed the more

1 Rom. i. 14, 15; xv. 23, 24, 20.

THE CHAEACTEll OF PAUL.

243

freely and copiously, because it was supplied by the Spirit, from Him in
whom “ all fulness dwells.” But did he forget those churches which he
had planted, in his eagerness to christianise the barren and waste parts
of the world 1 The frequent visits which he paid thein, and the letters
and messengers he sent to them from time to time, testify in the nega¬
tive. The passion which he felt to convert souls was equalled by the
agony (I use his o’wn word), the agony which he felt for their conserva¬
tion ; so that, when thrown into doubt about their state, he “ travailed
in birth the second time.” His capacious soul could admit, and received,
so far as they were known to him, all the concerns, the joys, and griefs
“of all the churches.” Take only one instance among many which
might be produced. From a tender and considerate regard to the good
of the Christians at Corinth, he had determined not to revisit them
until their unseemly heats and factions were allayed. How was he
affected wliile he waited at Ephesus to receive the tidings of this longed-
for, but protracted issue 1 “0 ye Corinthians ! our mouth is open unto
you ; our heart is enlarged ! ” What a picture of a heart ! We see him
standing on the shore of the jEgean sea, over against Corinth, with his
arms extended towards that city, and in the attitude of speaking. We
hear the words by which he seeks to relieve his overcharged breast,
heaving and ready to burst with the fulness of those desires which he
had long felt to come among them, satisfy them of the sincerity of his
affection, and replenish their souls with the consolation with which he
himself had been comforted. “ 0 ye Corinthians, our mouth is open to
you, our heart is enlarged. Ye are not straitened in us, but ye are
straitened in your own bowels. Now for a recompense in the same (I
speak as unto my children), be ye also enlarged.” ^

4. Our attention is particularly called to two qualities, by which,
whether they are viewed as entering into the formation of magnanimity,
or as produced by it, our apostle was eminently distinguished —
intrepidity and independence. Elevated as his mind was, and borne
up by such powerful principles, he felt as moving in a region which
danger could not reach. Incased in the divine panoply of the Gospel,
he was inaccessible to those impressions which create apprehension and
alarm. That which was most valuable and precious about him he had
committed to one who, he was persuaded, was “ able to keep it ;” he was
convinced that he had embarked in the best and most honourable of
causes, in the behalf of which it was glorious to suffer and die ; he
believed that it would survive him, and that his sufferings and death, as
well as his active services, would contribute to its advancement ; he
confided in the protection of Him whose cause it was, so long as there
remained anything for him to do in its behalf ; he rested assured that,
when he had “ finished his course, and fought the good fight,” he should
“ receive a crown of glory which fadeth not away ; ” and so filled was
his soul with these high thoughts and animating feelings, that there
was no room left for fear to abide or^enter. Often was he “ in perils ” of

1 2 Cor. vi. 11-13.

244

SEEMON II.

every kind, but in the midst of them he possessed his soul in peace.
He descended fearlessly into the arena, to “ tight with wild beasts at
Ephesus ; ” when surrounded by infuriated and fanatical mobs, he
remained unmoved. On more than one occasion, his temper appeals
to have been ruffled by the illegal violence of his enemies, and the
undutiful conduct of his friends ; but we never read of his courage
having been shaken, or of his having yielded to an unmanly and
unchristian timidity. When urged by those who trembled for the
safety of his valuable life, to keep at a distance from danger, his
reply was similar to that of the noble-minded governor of Judea —
“Should such a man as I flee'?” On his last journey to Jerusalem,
to discharge a debt of brotherly love, the premonitions and symptoms
of his danger multiplied as he advanced, so that he could no longer
resist the impression, that bonds and imprisonments, at least, awaited
him : “ But none of these things move me,” says he ; “ neither count I my
life dear, that I may flnish my course with joy, and the ministry that I
have received of the Lord to testify the Gospel of the grace of God.”
To face the danger was not so difficult to him as to break from the
embraces of his weeping brethren, who threw their bodies in his way to
divert him from a journey which they foresaw would prove hazardous
to him, and he was forced to summon up all his courage to ettect his
escape. “ What mean ye to weep and to break mine heart '? for I am
ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name
of the Lord Jesus.” i After he fell into the hands of his unnatural
countrymen, we tind him displaying the coolest and most collected
intrepidity in his appearances before governors and kings, and, lastly,
before the Roman emperor ; — not only keeping himself from everything
that was pusillanimous in language or demeanour, but avowing his faith
and his innocence, defending both with amazing boldness and eloquence,
and leaving on the minds of the most partial and unjust of his judges
an impression favourable to his cause and to the dignity of his character.

And then, my brethren, you are to observe that his courage was
characterised by prudence. It was free from rashness, vaunting, or
foolhardiness. He did not, like some enthusiasts, court persecution,
throw himself in the way of danger, or neglect or refuse to employ any
lawful means of escaping or saving himself from them. When Festus,
“■willing to do the Jews a pleasure,” asked him if he would go up to
Jerasalem to be judged, he did not suffer himself to be betrayed into a
consent to this proposal by the temptation of making a display of con¬
scious innocence and boldness ; but he replied nobly and wisely in
language which conveyed a severe, though tacit, reproof of the insidious
and dishonourable partiality of his judge ; “I stand at Cesar’s judg- ’
ment seat, where I ought to be judged ; to the Jews have I done no
wrong, as thou very well knowest. For if I be an offender, or have
committed anything worthy of death, I refuse not to die : but if there

1 Acts, xxi. 13.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

245

be none of these things whereof these accuse me, no man may deliver
me unto them. I appeal unto Cesar.” ^ What a contrast between this
and the peevish reply of Festus, who felt himself reproved and humbled
in the presence of his injured but dignified prisoner ! “ Hast thou
appealed unto Cesar 1 unto Cesar shalt thou go.” It is thus that men
clothed with authority will sometimes make a merit of injustice, and
try to conceal the littleness of their mind by drawing themselves up
on their chair of state, without reflecting that the concealment is seen
through by those who pity more than they despise them.

Independence of mind is a still rarer quality than intrepidity. How
many are the avenues, besides that of fear, by which corruption may
enter the mind, and lower its tone and deteriorate its virtue ! Pride
may prove in some cases an antidote to timidity. But a stronger and
more incorruptible guard is required to bar the entrance of the desire
which all, and especially those who have been long harassed and tossed,
feel for ease and quiet — of partiality to friends, an anxiety to gratify
those whom we esteem, and to whom we have been indebted, and
deference to public opinion and the authority of those who are held in
reputation by the wise and good. To disinterestedness our apostle had
added a strict training and mental discipline. He had “learned in
whatsoever condition he was, therewith to be content.” He was
accordingly independent of external circumstances, neither buoyed up
by prosperity nor depressed by adversity, blinded by favours nor biassed
by injuries, elated by honour nor cast down by disgrace.

The love of fame and desire of distinction has in every age prompted
men to engage in the most fatiguing and hazardous enterprises. It was
this passion which contributed to form the characters of those who
were so highly celebrated in Greece and Rome as heroes and patriots.
An attentive consideration of their conduct may convince us that the
“ immense desire of glory ” held a higher place in their breast than the
boasted love of country. Nor were they singular in this. To And a
man who is “ good without show ” has been always easier than to dis¬
cover one who is “ above ambition great.” Yet no man is truly
great in whom this passion is paramount. It is of a more refined
nature indeed than the sordid love of gain, but still it is selfish, and
therefore low. The love of what is great, and not the desire of being
thought great, constitutes greatness, and a thirst for applause argues a
defect and emptiness in the breast in which it resides. Nor can any
man be truly independent whose governing principle is the desire of
fame. He is a slave to those on whose good opinion his highest enjoy¬
ment depends — a slave, not to one, but to thousands. He must study
to please them, and shape all his actions, not according to his own
judgment, but theirs, and thus be under continual temptation to violate
truth and sacrifice a good conscience. Paul was not indifferent to the
opinion of the wise and good. He “ commended himself to every man’s

1 Acts, XXV. 10, 11.

246

SERMON II.

conscience in tlie sight of God.” He bestowed praise on others, and
therefore could not despise it in his own person. But he aimed at
something higher and nobler. The glory of God, the honour of Christ,
the propagation of truth and holiness, the eternal salvation of his
fellow-men, fidelity to the trust committed to him, the future approba¬
tion of his divine Mnster, the reward which He would confer on him,
and the testimony of his own conscience, occupied, all of them, a
higher place in his regards than the approbation and applause of the
world. He had too much good sense not to perceive that by embark¬
ing in the cause of Christianity he had baulked all reasonable hopes of
obtaining this, and he did not seek to compensate for the loss of it by
courting the favour of his new friends. Listen to the appeal which he
makes to the Galatians : “ Do I now persuade ” (conciliate the favour
of) “ men or God ? or do I seek to please men 1 For if I yet pleased
men, I should not be the servant of Christ.” And his protestation to
the Thessalonians : “ As we were allowed to be put in trust with the
Gospel, so we speak ; not as pleasing men, but God, who trieth our hearts.
For neither at any time used we flattering words, as ye know, nor a
cloak of covetousness ; God is witness : nor of men sought we glory,
neither of you, nor yet of others.” ^ Hence it came about that he
moved forward in a straight course in the discharge of his public duty,
without being drawn to the right hand or to the left by the desire of
securing the favour or declining the displeasure of men. Hence he con¬
tinued to “ tell the tnith ” at the expense of being “ counted an enemy ”
by those who had held him in the highest estimation, and “ shunned
not to declnre the whole counsel of God, keeping nothing back,” how¬
ever offensive or ungrateful it might be to some of the hearers. Hence
he was kept from imitating those who “ corrupted the word of God,”
and from adopting any of their disingenuous methods for removing or
lessening “ the offence of the cross ” in the eyes of the world, which was
“ crucified ” to him and he to it. Heiice he was under no temptation
of acting on the system of pious frauds for advancing a good cause, but
pronounces its fundamental principle damnable. Hence he withstood
to the face such as were “ pillars ” of the church, and rebuked the most
honoured of his brethren when they “ walked not with a straight foot ; ”
while, on the other hand, neither the ingratitude of his friends, nor the
inveterate hostility of his adversaries, prevented him from praying and
labouring for their salvation.

Yet his independence was not that of selfishness, pride, or afifectation.
He was condescending and indulgent to the meanest and weakest indi¬
vidual. In all things consistent with truth and duty, he endeavoured to
“ please not himself, but others, for their good to edification.” Every¬
thing recorded of him justifies the striking description which he has
transiently given of this part of his character : “ Though I be free from
all men, yet have I made myself servant unto all, that I might gain the

1 Gal. i. 10. 2 1 Tliess. ii. 4—6.

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

247

more.”i He had before reminded the Corinthians, that he “ had not
used the power ” by which he might justly have claimed support from
them ; and now he informs them, that the freedom which he had
acquired by such conduct he willingly laid at their feet, that he might
promote their salvation. Here you have conscious power combined
with cheerful self-denial, a noble freedom with the most rational subjec¬
tion, the strictest independence with the most amiable indulgence. This
is Christian virtue, — this is true magnanimity.

5. His heart was tender, and his affections warm. We are apt to
regard a person of great talents with that species of cold thrilling
admiration with which we look up to a mountain whose lofty summit
is perpetually covered with ice and snow. Nor is this feeling altogether
without reason ; for such is the imperfection of human nature, that the
great and gentle, the lofty and tender, are seldom seen united in the
same individual. Among the apostles of our Lord, one was the Son of
Thunder, and another the Son of Consolation — one was distinguished
for great, and another for good, qualities. Not that thei’e is any real
contrariety between these two kinds of qualities, or that they are abso¬
lutely incompatible. He who is the greatest is at the same time the
best of beings, and is not only infinite in wisdom and power, but also
“ very pitiful, and of tender mercy.” He upon whom “ the spirit of
counsel and might rested,” could not refrain from melting into tears at
the grave of that friend whom He was about to raise from the dead.
“Jesus wept ” — wept, too, over that city, the inhabitants of which were
about to put Him to a cruel death ; and the thought of his own suffer¬
ings, which were at hand, was swallowed up in tender concern for
theirs, which were at a distance. Paul had drank deeply of this spirit
of his divine Master, and he displayed it towards his unbelieving,
ungrateful, implacable countrymen, who had pursued him with the same
hostility with which they had treated their Saviour. “ I say the truth
in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy
Ghost, that I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart.
For I could wish that myself were accursed from Christ for my brethren,
my kinsmen according to the flesh.” ^ Ah ! my brethren, how difficult
is it for us, “ straitened,” as we are, “ in our own bowels,” narrow and
illiberal, selfish and indevout as our hearts are, to take the height of this
aspiration, or penetrate the depth of its spring ! There is more here
than an effusion of disinterested benevolence, more than an expression
of sacred patriotism. It is an ejaculation from a great heart, filled with
all goodness, long-suffering, forbearance, forgiveness, compassion, tender¬
ness ; touched with a recollection of its own former sinfulness ; alive to
all the ties of kindred and country ; crucified to every selfish feeling ;
quickened and inflamed by the knowledge-surpassing love of Christ.
No wonder that those who have contemplated it have taxed their ingenuity
to find an interpretation of the language in which it is conveyed, which

1 1 Cor. ix. 19. 2 Rom, ix. 1—3.

248

SERMON II.

would bring it witliin the range of what they deemed practicable, or
lawful to wish and utter. Certainly, we are not to understand them in
a sense which would imply a violation of Christian principle, or a denial
of the indissolubility of that union between the Kedeemer and all his
genuine friends, in which our apostle elsewhere triumphs ; but neither,
on the other hand, are we to reduce their meaning to the standard of
our diluted and lukewarm atfections. I am averse to admit any con¬
struction of the words which would strip them of the resemblance
which they bear to the patriotic and self-devoting request of the great
Jewish legislator,! between whose character and that of Paul I think I
observe such a striking coincidence, especially in the sacrifices winch
they made for the same cause, their “ esteem of the reproach of Christ,”
and their exemplification of all that is amiable in union with all that is
magnanimous.

The grace of God can soften the most insensible and obdurate heart,
and make it overfiow with loving-kindness, as the waters gushed from
the rock smitten by the rod of Moses. But in the present instance it
purified a heart which was originally open and affectionate, directed its
streams into a new and more enlarged channel, and caused to flow in
upon them, with irresistible and increasing force, a tide which raised
them to a supernatural height of devotion and benevolence. The
strength of his devotional feelings is apparent from the whole of his
writings. With what mingled admiration and delight does he dwell on
the discoveries of divine wisdom in the economy of redemption ! How
overpowered his mind when he attempts to describe the incommensur¬
able love of Christ ! Whenever he approaches such themes, he yields
to the power of their attraction, and is carried away by it with such
rapidity that, if unattentive, we lose him, and are unable to track his
flight. He cannot speak of them in an ordinary strain. When em¬
ployed in teaching men the deep things of God, he, as if uncon¬
sciously, addresses himself to God. His letters are written on his bended
knees ; and a system of divinity, comprising the most mysterious
truths, is conveyed in the form of a continued prayer or thanksgiving.
Of this the first chapters of the Epistles to the Ephesians and Colos-
sians are examples. Yet ardent, elevated, and even rapturous as his
devout emotions are, there is nothing enthusiastical in the sentiment,
or extravagant and unbecoming in the expression. Our judgment
approves as excellent what he expresses in the most impassioned
language ; and we believe him when he tells us that he cannot reach
the sublimity of his subject, just because he has raised our minds to
that height which enables us to look upon it. There is nothing in his
writings of the unintelligible jargon of mystics and essentialists. If it
is necessary for him to “ come to visions and revelations,” instead of
entertaining us with what he had seen and heard when “ caught up to
the third heaven,” he has nothing to communicate, excuses his reserve

! Exod. xxxii. 32.

THE CHAEACTER OF PAUL.

249

by telling ns that it was “ unspeakable, and not lawful for a man to
utter ; and, introducing a subject which was more pleasing to him,
because it is more edifying to us, he proceeds to descant, with his usual
eloquence, on the infirmities, reproaches, necessities, persecutions, dis¬
tresses, which he endured for Christ’s sake.^

Nor was his philanthropy less ardent than his devotion. But phil¬
anthropy is a cold affection compared with that which the apostle felt
for those among whom he laboured in the Gospel of Christ, and which
he evinced by his unwearied assiduities, his painful watchings, his
anxious solicitude, his self-forgetfulness, his tenderness, his tears.
“ Though ye have ten thousand instructors,” says he to the Corinthians,
“ yet have ye not many fathers.” ^ His was indeed parental affection,
and that of no ordinary kind. “We were gentle among you” (he is ad¬
dressing himself to the Thessalonians), “ even as a nurse cherisheth her
children : so, being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have
imparted unto you, not the Gospel of God only, but also our own soids,
because ye were dear to us.” ® While feeding them with “ the sincere
i milk of the word,” he felt ready to pour out his blood for their sake.
One would think that love could not have been more intense ; and yet
his removal from them caiised it to burn with a more vehement flame,
converting his concern for their spiritual welfare into an anxiety which
grew to be agonising and intolerable. Hearing of the persecution
which raged at Thessalonica, and afraid that the confidence of his
young converts might be shaken by it, he became impatient to visit
; them. “ Once and again ” he made the attempt, “ but Satan,” says he,
“ hindered me.” At last he could “ no longer forbear,” but sent
Timotheus, his sole companion, from Athens, to establish and comfort
them ; and having received a favourable report from him, he was
' “ comforted over them,” amidst all his personal afflictions ; “ for now,”

says he, “ we live, if ye stand fast in the Lord.” His fears of their
stability had almost exanimated him ; the intelligence of their apostasy
how could he have survived 1 for, as he says of another church, “ ye are
in our hearts, to die and live with you.” ®

The annals of the Corinthian church furnish us with still more
' striking illustrations of this part of the apostle’s character. He had
planted that church, been the means of converting many in it to the
faith of Christ, conveyed to them a rich profusion of spiritual gifts, and
left them in a most flourishing state. But after his departure, false
apostles, deceitful workers, had entered among them, corrupted their
Christian simplicity, and introduced many flagrant abuses. “ Out of
much aftliction and anguish of heart he wrote unto them with many
tears,” expostxdating with them on their conduct, and beseeching them
to return to their duty. Scarcely had he despatched the letter when he
began to “ repent.” The epistle contained nothing which was calculated

1 2 Cor. xii. 1— 10. 2 1 Cor. i7. 15. 3 1 Thess. ii. 7, 8.

< 1 Thess. iii. 7, 8. *2 Cor. vii. 3.

250

SEKMON II,

to irritate them, and the object of the writer was, “ not that they should
be grieved,” but that they “ might know the love which he had to them
more abundantly.”^ But love has its jealousies, and sensibility its fears,
for which they cannot account at the bar of cold reason. Something
might have been done to abate the severity of rigid reproof, to explain
what was hai’d to be understood, and to ascertain the sense of what they
were disposed to misconstruct. His presence among them would, in
existing circumstances, add oil to the flame of contention, but another
might be useful in preventing them from throwing themselves into the
arms of designing leaders or abandoning themselves to despair. Ac¬
cordingly Timothy is despatched to Corinth, and after him Titus is sent.
In the mean time “ a door is opened of the Lord” to the apostle to preach
Christ’s gospel at Troas ; but, strange to relate ! he who panted so
earnestly for such opportunities, had neither heart nor tongue to im¬
prove the present. The expected messenger from Corinth had not
arrived — he had “ no rest in his spirit,” and abandoning the rich harvest
which invited his labours, he wandered into Macedonia. Nor yet did
he And ease : “For when we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had
no rest, but we were troubled on every side ; without were flghtings,
within were fears.” At last Titus arrives with tidings from Corinth.
The apostle’s letter had been well received ; it had produced the in¬
tended effects ; a spirit of repentance had fallen upon the church ;
they had applied themselves vigorously to the correction of abuses ; the
love which they bore to their spiritual father had revived with addi¬
tional strength. “JVOWf thanks be unto God, which always causeth us
to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge
by us in every place ! Great is my boldness of speech toward you,
great is my glorying of you : I am filled with comfort, I am exceeding
joyful in all our tribulation.”^ What a sudden change ! What a won¬
derful transformation ! Formerly we saw him, like a soldier, wounded,
weak, disabled, dispirited, fallen to the ground : now he is lifted up,
victorious, and borne on the triumphant car. Formerly, a retrospect of
his toils imparted no joy to his heart, and he was ready to exclaim,
“ Surely I have laboured in vain, and spent my strength for nought and
in vain but the tidings of Titus had the same effect on him which
the tasting of the honey had on Jonathan ■ and now, on I’doking back on
the same course, he sees only a train of victories and triumphs. Such
alternations of feeling, and quick changes from fear to hope, and from
grief to joy, on the account of others, are incident only to tender hearts.

The same feeling dictated that wise and winning mode of address
which pervades the writings of our apostle, and which he adopts
whenever he has occasion to reprove, or seeks to reclaim. He is
ingenious in finding excuses for his bretliren. He only “ partly believes”
the unfavourable reports of them. He “stands in doubt” of them— is
“afraid of them;” but is unwilling to think the worst. “Have ye

2 2 Cor. ii. 14. ; vii. 4.

1 2 Cor. ii.

THE CHAEACTER OF PAUL,

251

suffered so many things in vain, if it be yet in vain V' If he had been
grieved, it was only “by a part” of them. “Ye have not injured me at
all.” This language is not the result of art, or of a frigid prudence, but
flows from the warmth of his affections, and a delicate apprehension of
saying anything which might, in the slightest degree, mar the spiritual
benefit of those who were concerned. — Let me add, that his affection
was not limited to those among whom he had laboured personally, but
extended to “ as many as had not seen his face.” He tells us that he felt
a tender solicitude for all the churches, and for every individual in them.
“ Who is weak, and I am not weak ? who is offended, and I burn
not V ^ But I would quote the greater part of his writings, if I were to
produce all the proofs of tliis feature of his character.

Learned men have employed themselves in forming a key to the
Epistles of Paul. Without despising their labours, or undervaluing the
assistance which may be drawn from them for understanding what is
obscure in his writings, I cannot help saying that attention to that
quality of his mind which we are now considering is the best key to his
works. It will enable us to unlock the cabinet which contains such rare
treasures, and to find our way into some of its most concealed and
intricate compartments. It will often do more than any instrument in the
art of interpretation for explaining his peculiar i^hraseology, his seeming
tautologies, his puzzling paradoxes, his transitions, digressions, paren¬
theses, and hyperboles. Without this sympathetic tact, the acutest
critic and the most skilful divine will frequently fail in hitting his
sense, following the strain of his discourse, or penetrating the depth of
his argument ; and they will certainly fail in perceiving his beauties. A
ravishing persuasion of the sublime truths of Christianity, and an
intense love to the souls of men, are the two elements which form
Paul’s eloquence, and by which liis writings are distinguished from those
of all other orators.

In fine, after what has been advanced, it is scarcely necessary for me
to add, that his ardent zeal for religion was tempered with the greatest
moderation. But as this part of his character is frequently brought
forward in the evengelical record, it is proper that it should be distinctly
stated here. Before his conversion, Paul was “ exceedingly zealous of
the traditions of his fathers ;” but then his zeal was blind, bigoted,
intolerant, and violent. His zeal for Christianity was equally ardent,
but it was enlightened and liberal, and under the government of the
mild and gentle principles of the religion which he had espoused. He
was “very jealous” of the honour of his new Master, and wholly
devoted to his interests ; but then it was as became the servant of him
who was “ meek and lowly of heart,” and who “ came not to destroy
men’s lives, but to save them.” If “ his spirit was stirred in him” when
he saw the cities which he visited “ wholly given to idolatry,” and if he
felt constrained in duty to teach that “ they were no gods which were

1 2 Cor. xi. 29.

252

SEKMON II,

made with men’s hands,” this he did in the synagogues of the J ews, or
in the forum, where it was customary to treat such topics ; and there
was nothing in his discourse which was calculated to excite sedition, or
inconsistent with the decorum due to a worship founded on prescription,
and sanctioned by the voice and laws of the public. If, under the in¬
fluence of love to the truth and to the souls of men, he pronounced
those “accursed” who should “preach another gospel,” he was willing
that the curse should fall on himself, provided he was found guilty of
the sin. If he directed the church of Corinth to “ deliver unto Satan”
a vicious member, it was “ for the destruction of the flesh, that the
spirit might be saved.” If he announced that the weapons with which
he was armed were “ in readiness to revenge the disobedience” of the
proud and obstinate, he at the same time declares that he would not
draw the spiritual sword until the “ obedience ” of the sound part of the
church was “ fulfilled,” and time was given to all to repent.

What an eminent display of this temper did he give in the contro¬
versy respecting the observance of the Mosaical law, which divided the
opinions and disturbed the peace of the primitive church ! In main¬
taining the doctrine of gratuitous justification by faith, in opposition to
those who would have made this privilege to depend on the performance
of works, whether moral or ceremonial, he was inflexible ; and he
“gave place, by subjection, no, not for an hour,” to those who sought
to impose the yoke of Jewish ceremonies on Gentile believers. But, at
the same time, he readily acquiesced in, and used his authority to
execute, the decree of the apostles and elders at Jerusalem as to certain
things which it was necessary for the Gentiles to avoid, in order to
preserve communion with their Jewish brethren. With respect to
believers of the Jewish nation, his conduct was different. He knew
that the ceremonial law was virtually deprived of its obligation by the
death of Christ ; but he was aware that all who had embraced the
Gospel did not possess the knowledge and assurance of this truth, that
it was the will of God that their minds should be gradually enlightened
in it, and that they were accepted by him when they acted in this
matter according to their conviction, and with charity toward their
brethren. Accordingly, he exhorted them not to condemn one another
on account of their difterent opinions and practices ; but, at the same
time, showed that it was the duty of the more enlightened to have a
due regard to the scruples of their weaker brethren, and not to use
their own liberty in such a way as to lay a stumblingblock before
them, or to lead them into the commission of what they thought sin.
In this way, while he instructed the more ignorant, and conducted them
gradually to the knowledge of their Christian liberty and privileges, he
repressed the rashness, selfishness, and pride of the more knowing.
And the doctrine which he taught on this head he was careful to
exemplify in his own practice. While he proclaimed aloud, “ I know
and am persuaded by the Lord Jesus that there is nothing unclean in

THE CHARACTER OF PAUL.

253

itself,” with the same breath, and in same tone, he declared : “ If meat
make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth,
lest I make my brother to offend.” Hence the maxim by which he
regulated his conduct in such matters : “ All things are lawful for me,
but all things are not expedient : all things are lawful for me, but all
things edify not.” Hence the description which he gives of his uniform
behaviour in everything wliich was not in itself or by implication
sinful : “ Unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews ;
to them that are under the law, as under the law, that I might gain
them that are under the law ; to them that are without law, as without
law (being not without law to God, but under the law to Christ), that I
might gain them that are without law. To the weak became I as weak,
that I might gain the weak ; I am made aU things to all men, that I
might by all means save some.” (1 Cor. ix. 20 — 22). Here zeal and
charity meet together, and truth and peace embrace one another. Here
we have a genuine and living exhibition of Christian liberality, which
has been so often counterfeited and caricatured ; for what is true
liberality of mind but a good heart shining through a clear and enlarged
understanding 1

254

SERMON III.

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVEESITY, ILLUSTKATED IN
THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH.

“ He sent a man before them, exen Joseph, who was sold for a servant ; whose feet
they hurt with fetters : he was laid in iron : until the time that his word
came : the word of the Lord tried him. The king sent and loosed him ;
even the ruler of the people, and let him go free. He made him lord of his
house, and ruler of all his substance ; to bind his princes at his pleasure,
and teach his senators wisdom.” — Ps. cv. 17-22.

Where, even in works of imagination formed solely to please, will we
find a story so beautiful, and so delightfully told, as that of Joseph in
the book of Genesis 1 VVhich of you does not recollect from a child the
intense and never-wearying interest with which you listened again and
again to the recital of the events of his checkered life — the tears of sor¬
row which you shed over the successive calamities which overwhelmed
the amiable youth — and the tears of joy which flowed still more copi¬
ously at the unexpected turn of affairs which raised him from a prison
to the second place in Egypt, and gilded the last hours of the venerable
old man his father ?

But the history of Joseph would not have obtained a place in the
inspired volume, had it not been highly instructive as well as deeply
interesting. Not to speak of the important moral lessons it conveys,
such as the baneful efiects of envy, especially among children of the
same family ; the force of religion in fortifying the mind against
temptation, and sustaining it under the pressure of adversity ; and the
power of conscience in awakening the remembrance of sins long ago
committed and forgotten ; — what a striking illustration does this narra¬
tive furnish of the mysterious way in which Providence accomplishes its
designs by a concatenated series of second causes, including circum¬
stances seemingly fortuitous, and the volitions of rational agents who
mean nothing less than that issue which they contribute unconsciously
to effect and secure. Had Joseph not told his dreams to his brethren —
had he not been sent by his father to Dothan — had not the Ishmeelites
passed by when he was in the pit — had he not been sold to Potiphar —
had his mistress been a better woman, or his master a worse man— had
he been thrown into any other than the king’s prison, — in fine, had the

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

255

officers of Pharaoh not incurred the displeasure of their master, Joseph’s
advancement could not have taken place, and the purposes of heaven to
save much people alive, and to provide a settlement for Israel in Egypt,
with all the varied and long train of grand results, embracing the happi¬
ness of all nations in all generations, which depended upon this, would
have been deranged and rendered abortive.

It is not, however, my intention at present to dwell on these topics.
What I intend is to illustrate another truth, taught by this history, and
prominently exhibited in the text, viz. ; That those persons whom God
has destined to be pre-eminently useful in advancing his glory, and pro¬
moting the good of his church and of mankind, he usually jmepares for
this task, by causing them previously, and often at an early period of
life, to pass through scenes of severe affliction.

Affliction forms an essential part of the discipline of God’s family, and
to each of his children is allotted that share of it which infinite wisdom
sees to be necessary and meet. This is the general law of the house,
from whieh there is no exemption. Neither the instrumentality of
word and ordinances, nor the implantation of gracious principles, nor
the active cultivation of them, nor the superintending agency of the
Holy Spirit, can supersede or render useless this severe but salutary
process in forming the character of the “ heirs of salvation.”

We must not presume to “ limit the Holy One,” or invade his sove¬
reignty in apportioning trials, as well as dividing gifts, “ severally as
he willeth.” He will do what is best in every case, for his own glory,
for the good of the individual, and for the benefit of many. But he hath
prescribed general laws to himself, or, to speak more modestly, he usually
acts after a certain way in the moral government of the world ; and
those wlio dutifully and humbly observe his operations, will, without
pretending to scan them, be able to discover such reasons as serve, not
only to vindicate his managements, but to display their manifold wisdom.
As he “afflicts not willingly,” nor to a greater extent than is necessary
for gaining his wise and holy ends, we may safely conclude, that trials of
a less severe and searching kind will be allotted to those who tread “the
common walks of virtuous life,” than to such as are called forth to more
arduous service. The more conspicuous and enlarged the sphere in
which any person moves, the more difficult are the duties which he has
to perform, and the stronger the temptations to which he is exposed ;
and consequently he needs to pass through a severer course of disciplinary
preparation. It may be added, that, though “ no man liveth to himself,”
yet, comparatively speaking, the sufierings of the many are chiefly
necessary on their own account, and as a preparative for heaven, and
therefore may be endured by them at any period of their life ; wdiereas
the trials of the few are necessary for the sake of others, and as a pre¬
parative for doing their work on earth, and therefore are usually borne
by them in early years, or at least before they have entered on that
special service which Providence had assigned them.

256

SERMON III,

The distinction now made may be confirmed, or at least illustrated,
by referring to two distinguished characters in scripture history. The
character of Job was intended as a pattern of patience in suffering
affliction to all future ages. But this eminently pious person, who ob¬
tained this testimony from the mouth of God, “ There is none like him,”
filled no official situation, and was not called to perform any service of
a public kind in his generation. His life presented a picture of domestic
piety, exemplified in the well-ordered economy of a flourishing family,
and in the varied beneficence which wealth enabled him to diffuse
around his dwelling. Thus much we gather from the brief notice pre¬
fixed to the narrative of his sufferings, taken in connection with the
reminiscences of former days, which the insinuations of his over-suspi¬
cious friends called up and compelled him to reveal in his own defence.
Accordingly liis trials were delayed till an advanced period of his life,
the fittest for displaying his integrity, and proving that it was equally
independent on prosperity and adversity. It was quite otherwise as to
another illustrious individual, who is generally supposed to have been
contemporary with J ob. Moses was destined to be the liberator of his
countrymen from the cruel bondage of Egypt, to govern that “ stiff and
rebellious race ” during forty years, in a wilderness, within a few days’
march of a rich country which they had left filled with their terror, and
to subject them to a code of laws which, though good and equitable,
neither they nor their children were able to bear. His residence at the
court of Pharaoh, his initiation into the wisdom of the Egyptians, and
the practice of the arts of war and peace which he acquired during his
early youth, were intended by Heaven to be subservient to his execution
of its high behests. But neither these, nor his piety, nor the patriotism
and generous indignation against tyranny which burned in his breast,
suffered or could exempt him from passing through another education
of a rougher kind, by which he might be freed from the impurities
which he had contracted, and become qualified for his difficult task. It
behoved him to be as many years an exile in Midian as he had been a
courtier in Egypt, and was to be king in Jeshurun.

Your memory will supply you with examples from scripture which go
to establish the truth of our proposition ; and in particular you cannot
forget “ the apostle and high-priest of our profession, Christ Jesus.”
Though without the slightest taint of sin, though anointed with the
Spirit without measure, though more than a man, though the Son of
God, yet it behoved him to “ learn obedience by the things which he
suffered.” If it became the Captain of Salvation to be made perfect
through sufferings, that he might lead many sons to glory, what sub¬
ordinate leader can or ought to look for exemption ?

To return to the j^erson mentioned in the text— Joseph was selected
to be the depositary of the secrets of Heaven and the almoner of its
bounty, in “ saving much people alive,” during a sore and protracted
dearth, and also to be the instrument of providing an asylum for his

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVEESITY.

257

brethren in Egypt until “ the heritage of Jacob, their father,” was ready
for receiving them. The events which befell him were so arranged by
Providence as at once to place him in circumstances to accomplish these
services, and to train him for acting the part which became the patron
of the chosen people, and the public benefactor of the age in which he
lived.

It has often been observed, that the chosen instruments of Providence
have given early indications of their high destiny, and that they or their
friends have felt strong presentiments of this, which, by giving a direc¬
tion to their education, and moulding their inclinations, have exerted a
powerful influence on their future lives. Philosophers ascribe this to
superstition, and are fond of displaying their ingenuity by tracing such
impressions to external circumstances acting upon minds naturally
ardent and aspiring. But the rigid eye of philosophy, clear as it is with¬
in its own range, is apt to be cold and feeble in its apprehension of
moral influences in the divine government of the universe. Who made
“ the human face divine,” and formed the sjjirit in man ? Who assigned
to individuals the age in which they should live, and their local habita¬
tion 1 Who brought them into contact with those circumstances which
elicit thoughts and kindle feelings which otherwise would never have
had an existence 'I Are we entitled to interrupt the Ruler of the world
when employed in fashioning “ the man that shall execute his counsel,”
and to say to him, “ Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther 1” May
he speak to him by the whirlwind, the thunder, the earthquake, or the
tumult of the people, but not by “ the still small voice,” inaudible by all
but the ear into which it is whispered 1 Shall the free spirit of man be
dependent on external circumstances, and liable to receive impressions
from everything that is material and gross around it, and yet be inde¬
pendent on, and inaccessible to, the direct influences of the Father of
Spirits? If this be philosoi^hical, it sounds very like irrational, and
seems to be at once derogatory to the Divine Being, and to man, whom,
of all terrestrial creatures, he had formed with the capabilities of hold¬
ing converse with himself.

“ By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his
parents, because they saw he was a proper child.” They perceived
something divine in the preternatural beauty and expression of his
countenance. Looking along the bow of the promised deliverance,
they saw it resting, and its beams playing on the features of their
lovely babe, and faith united with natural afl'ection in stimulating them
to preserve his life, and afterwards to watch over his education. In
like manner Moses, when he came to years, and was made acquainted
with his lineage and miraculous preservation, conceived the idea that
he would one day be the deliverer of his enslaved countrymen.

Similar aspirations, though of a kind more congenial to his gentler
dispositions, and the nature of his destined employment, were indulged
by Joseph, perhaps even before God “ proved his heart, and visited

258

SERMON III.

him in the night” with dreams. Animated by these, schemes of future
usefulness and glory would flit before his kindling fancy, and his
benevolent breast would heave with the anticipated pleasure of nursing
his affectionate parent in his old age, providing for his churlish but
still beloved brethren, dealing bread to the hungry stranger, bringing
the poor outcast into his house, scattering plenty over a barren land,
and receiving the blessing of thousands ready to perish. With these
feelings of his son, Jacob appears to have sympathised, and accordingly,
though he rebuked him for the apparent imprudence with which he
revealed his nightly visions, we are told that “he observed the
saying.”

In addition to the most amiable dispositions, Joseph inherited the
piety which had adorned and sanctified the character of his forefathers
for three successive generations. The fear of God, which his father had
betimes sedulously inculcated on all his children, had, by the blessing
of Heaven, taken root in the mind of Joseph, and blossomed from his
tenderest years. Hence, instead of having “ his good manners cor¬
rupted by the evil communications” of his elder brothers, he was
grieved at their misconduct, and employed what appeared to him the
best means for reclaiming them. Add to this that he had for “the
guide of his youth” one who had seen affliction, and who knew what it
was to incur the envy of a brother, and to suffer from the selfishness of
relations, and consequently could impart to him in the most impressive
manner the salutary instructions and cautions which he had learned in
the hard school of adversity.

But neither his high aspirations, nor his benevolent dispositions, nor
his early piety, nor the education which he had received under the eye
of a parent trained in the school of adversity, could suffice to form the
character of Joseph. To qualify him as “ a polished shaft” in the hand
of Providence, it behoved him to suffer sharper and more varied trials
than any of his progenitors. Hated of his brethren, sold for a slave,
falsely accused, thrown into prison, bound with irons, friendless and
forgotten, “ the aflfiiction of Joseph” passed into a proverb. Before he
had spent the period of youth, and while all the sensibilities of his
nature were still tender, he had encountered all the storms of calamity
to which the unfortunate are exposed during the course of a long life.
How affecting his address to his fellow-prisoner whose restoration to
liberty and honours he had predicted ! “ Think on me when it shall be
weU with thee, and show kindness, I pray thee, unto me, and make
mention of me unto Pharaoh, and bring me out of this house. For
indeed I was stolen away out of the land of the Hebrews ; and here
also I have done nothing that they should put me into the dungeon.”
And it behoved his soul, already sick with hope deferred, to be pierced
with the keenest dart in adversity’s quiver — base ingratitude. Yet of
all the hardships which he underwent none was unnecessary or supere¬
rogatory. Every pang which he suffered, and every moment of his

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

259

tedious imprisonment, contributed its share to the formation of that
character, which, when developed, proclaimed him to be “ the minister
of God for good” to the church and mankind.

Before proceeding farther, let me simply mention two things to
prevent mistakes. In the^rs^ place, I mean not to speak of the world’s
worthies, some of whom have learned in adversity the hardy virtues of
patience, temperance, and fortitude, and by their wisdom and patriotism
have earned “ a mortal immortality,” but I confine myself to those men
of God whose virtues are grafted on genuine piety. In the second
place, in speakir^g of the advantages of affliction, I suppose it to be ac¬
companied with the sanctifying blessing of him who sent it, and thus
yielding “ the peaceable fruits of righteousness in those who are exer¬
cised thereby.” Without this it would depress instead of invigorating
the mind, irritate the passions instead of subduing them, and harden
instead of improving the heart. Without this even the good would be
tempted to murmur against Providence, “put forth their hand to
iniquity,” and have recourse to dishonest and dishonourable expedients
to extricate themselves from calamities and straits by which they were
“ pressed above measure.” I now go on to speak of the advantages to
be derived from adversity.

I. It is a school for acquiring practical wisdom. When we are in
eager pursuit of this world’s enjoyments we have no leisure for serious
reflection — when we have obtained these our minds are unfitted for it,
and, though the price is in our hands, we have no heart to buy wisdom.
Adversity has a tendency to sober the mind, disperses the illusions which
prosperity had created, and induces thoughtfulness and meditation. He
who bears the yoke in his youth sitteth alone and is silent, searches and
tries his ways, and applies his heart to wisdom.

Practical wisdom comprehends two things — the knowledge of our¬
selves and of others, and both of these are most advantageously acquired
in adversity.

How ignorant are even good men of themselves before they are put
to the trial ! How ready to mistake their character, to be deceived as
to the motives by which they are actuated, and to overrate their talents
and the strength of their principles ! How apt to think they are some¬
thing when they are nothing, and to expose themselves rashly to temp¬
tation ! Happy was it for Peter that his .grand trial was over, and that
the secrets of his heart were revealed to him before he was called to
take a leading part in the propagation of the Gospel, and to appear be¬
fore kings and rrders for the name of Christ ! It is true we would not
be such strangers to ourselves if we listened to faithful counsel, and
subjected our hearts to the test of an impartial and rigid self-examina¬
tion. But still there is no knowledge like to that which is gained by
experience, and no experience like that which is the result of tribula¬
tion. By encountering hardships we discover where our weakness lies,

260

SEKMOJSr III.

and in what quarter we are most vulnerable by the shafts of temptation
— whether we are in greater danger of failing, in the hour of trial, from
love to the world, timidity, a sense of shame, impatience, anger, unbelief,
jjride, or vainglory. The person who has been involved in “ a sea of
troubles,” where “ deep calleth unto deep,” and one billow succeeds to
another, is made to feel his weakness, and to exclaim — Ah ! —

“ This is no flattery ; these are counsellors
That feelingly persuade me what 1 am.”

Next to self-knowledge, an intimate and accurate acquaintance with
the characters of other men is of the greatest utility to those who are
called to be “ workers together with God.” The knowledge of our own
hearts offers us important aid in the study of human nature ; but a
person of conscious integrity and generous dispositions will meet with
cruel disappointments in the estimates which he has formed on this
standard. How much levity, inconstancy, and falsehood^ — how much
hypocrisy, ingratitude, and treachery — are laid open by a change to the
worse in our external circumstances ! “ A friend,” says the old proverb,
“ is not known in prosperity ; and an enemy cannot be hidden in
adversity.” Nor is insincerity the only shelf which we need to avoid.

Moses, when he first felt the fire of sacred patriotism stirring his
breast, was inclined to undertake the vindication of his countrymen’s
liberties forthwith, without waiting for an express commission, and
began with avenging the wrong which he saw done by an Egyptian to
a Hebrew, fondly supposing that his brethren would have understood,
from the boldness of the action, that God, by his hand, would deliver
them. But the incident which happened next day convinced him that
he who would undertake the task must lay his account with as great
obstacles from the folly of the oppressed, as from the fury of the
oppressor. This was a lesson he had not learnt in the schools of
Egypt ; he had leisure to reflect on it during his subsequent exile ; and
was thus prepared for encountering the ignorance, the incredulity, the
selfishness, the stubbornness, displayed by Israel in the wilderness.

The same benefit did Joseph reap from his adversities. In the short
account given of his early years, we see great goodness of heart com¬
bined with an unsuspecting openness, which, if not corrected by
experience, would have made him through life the prey of the malicious,
or the dupe of the designing. After he had reached his seventeenth year,
we find hinr, with a child-like, and almost infantile, simplicity, relating
to his brethren those dreams, which, as plainly pointing to lus future
exaltation over them, tended to inflame that hatreci which the
partiality of his father, and his own virtues, had already excited in their
breast. Though made aware of their envy, still he could never have
supposed that such cruelty dwelt in their hearts, as he found in the day
of “ the anguish of his soul, when he entreated them, and they would
not hear him.” This discovery, together with those made by his treat-

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

261

ment in the house of Potiphar, and in prison, were blessed for curing
him of his early infirmity, and for “ giving suhtilty to the simple, to the
young man knowledge and discretion so that when he was released.
Pharaoh found him qualified to administer the affairs of his kingdom,
and to “teach his senators wisdom.” Without having recourse to
supernatural communications, it is surprising what knowledge of human
character a mind disciplined, hut not broken, by adversity, will acquire
in circumstances not the most propitious ; although indeed Joseph had
the advantage of contemplating human nature in various aspects, and
conversed with all classes, from the first military officer to a common
turnkey, from those who had been in king’s courts to the most degraded
inmate of a jad. And, though the comparison may not be deemed
flattering, what is the administration of a kingdom but the economy
of a family, combined with the discipline of a prison on a larger scale 1
Wliile intercourse with the world soon corrects that credulous sim¬
plicity to which the young and inexperienced are incident, this advan¬
tage is usually gained at the expense of better principles. But the
piety and benevolence of Joseph prevented the knowledge which he
acquired from swelling into misanthropic pride, or degenerating into
worldly policy and cunning. In his character, as unfolded in his mature
age, and after it had gone through the severe process of refinement, we
behold a rare example of the union of genuine goodness with consum¬
mate prudence — the wisdom of the serpent matched with the harm¬
lessness of the dove. We are accustomed to speak of hia policy to stay
his brethren ; and on the occasion referred to, he certainly did display
an address and fineness of management, which, in other hands, would
have been perverted to effectuate the worst of purposes, “ like a sharp
razor working deceitfully.” But the policy of Joseph was dictated by
the purest motives, and directed to the best of ends. The difficult}'"
which we feel in reconciling some of his expressions to the strict laws of
truth, is perhaps not greater than that which we find, at first sight, in
reconciling some parts of his conduct to the principles of filial affection,
which yet we know he felt very strongly. An enlightened sense of duty,
and a conscientious regard to the high obligations imposed on him as
the confidential servant of Pharaoh, and minister of Providence, re¬
strained him from taking earlier measures to acquaint his father with
the honours to which he had been raised. The substantial acts of
kindness which he did to his brethren, and his turning from them, once
and again, to give vent to the tide of affection which rushed to his eyes,
showed the violence which he did to his feelings, while he constrained
himself to wear the mask of severity, with the view of correcting the
vices to which he knew them to be addicted, and preparing their minds
for the happiness he had planned for them. How much knowledge of
human nature, joined to considerate love, was wrapt up in his admoni¬
tion, on dismissing them laden with good news and presents, — “ See that
ye fall not out by the way.” We find the same virtuous prudence in the

2G2

SERMON III.

measures he adopted for obtaining them a commodious settlement in the
district of Goshen ; by which he secured them against incurring the
hatred of the Egyptians, and provided at the same time for their retain¬
ing their pastoral simphcity of manners, together with the pure religion
of their fathers. Nor must we overlook the wise and liberal policy
which he pursued in his treatment of the native population, now at the
mercy of their sovereign, who, by listening to liis advice, or rather to
the counsel of Heaven communicated by him, was in exclusive posses¬
sion of the necessaries of life. According to the maxims of policy at
that time established in all the great monarchies of the world, the
people must have become the slaves of the prince, bound to the soil, and
condemned to labour it for an absolute lord. While he showed all
fidelity to the interests of his royal master, J oseph provided wisely for
those of the people. Instead of allowing them to eat the bread of
idleness during the seven years in which it was fruitless to till the
ground, he removed them to cities where they could acquire useful arts,
and in the last year of the dearth, he furnished such as chose a country
life, with seed corn, and gave them back their lands on a new tenure,
which reserved to the crown a fifth part of their produce ; an arrange¬
ment (corresponding to the double tithe afterwards established among
the Israelites) which displayed the wisdom and impartiality of a
Heaven-chosen umpire, balancing the claims of sovereign and subjects,
giving to the former all the advantage which a virtuous individual is
entitled to expect from his prudent foresight, while he took care that
the latter should not be reduced to slavery in consequence of a calamity
which, but for a divine premonition, would have proved ruinous to both ;
and by the standing law which he procured on the occasion, leaving a
memorable lesson to the people of the benefits of forecast and economy,
and to princes, of a wise moderation in the use of power, and a disinter¬
ested regard to the welfare of their subjects.

Do you ask, whence had this young man all this wisdom ? and where
did he learn it 1 I answer, not in a palace, but in the pit of Dothan ;
not in a council of senators, but in a caravansery of Ishmeelitish slave-
traders ; not under the arched roof of a college, but within the gloomy
walls and dark cells of a dungeon. The philosophers of Greece and
Asia were accustomed to travel into Egypt in quest of wisdom ; but
what was all the occult science and abstruse speculation which they
learnt, by conversing with its priests, and deciphering its hieroglyphical
symbols, compared with the sound practical knowledge which Joseph
acquired in its prisons, by ruminating on the ways of God to man,
and examining the secret springs and multiform movements of the
human heart 1

II. Adversity is useful for subduing and regulating the passions. He
who is not emancipated from the slavery of liis passions cannot be
either truly great or truly good. Without this, knowledge is like a

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

263

sharp instrument in the hands of a furious person, which only enables
him to do the more mischief to himself or others ; and benevolence is
like a wandering star, or a cloud without water, carried about of winds.
Self-government is an essential qualification for ruling over others.
How can he take the lead of others, who is himself like a vessel without
a rudder, the sport of wind and waves, and filled moreover with com¬
bustible materials, ready every moment to take fire ? The subjugation
of the passions is one of the greatest conquests of religion, in the
achieving of which this divine principle does not cbsdain to call in the
aid of the corrective discipline of Providence. While prosperity in¬
flames the passions by multiplying the objects of their gratification,
adversity allays their ardour by blowing away or burning up what
ministers fuel to them. Under its “ iron scourge,” and during its
“ torturing hour,” the fiercest breast is tamed temporarily, is made to
hear the voice of reason and conscience ; and from the privations which
he is forced to suffer, the patient is taught the practicability and useful¬
ness of self-denial and voluntary restraint.

The grand practical difficulty in education, and that which attaches
to every system of moral culture discovered by human ingenuity, is to
hit the due medium between restraint and indulgence, or rather to com¬
bine the two modes of treatment in such just proportion as to form the
character to virtue. If you pursue the plan of restraint, you either
break the spirit of your pupil, or you create habits of cimniug and dis¬
simulation. In the former case, you have an Issachar — an ass crouch¬
ing down between two burdens : in the latter case, you have a Dan —
a serpent by the way, biting the horse’s heels, so that the rider falleth
backwards. If you have recourse to the opposite plan of indulgence,
you either give loose reins to youthful passion, or else you foster vanity
by bribing the more violent principles to rest. In the former case, you
have a Keuben, who, unstable as water, shall not excel ; in the latter
case, you have a character such as J oseph was when he was taken from
the hands of his father, and who, notwithstanding his goodness, had
provoked the resentment of all his brethren, with the exception of the
individual who had been trained in the same easy school with himself.
The history of education in many families exliibits little else than the
alternate adoption of these opposite methods in regular succession.
Even when we have placed the golden mean before our eyes, how ready
are we to err from it in practice ! To “ correct, but with judgment,” to
soften the severity of reproof with the precious oil of kindness, and to
adapt the degree of restraint or indulgence to the temper and disposi¬
tion of the individual, is a delicate task for which few tutors, natural or
delegated, are qualified, and which at the best can be but imperfectly
executed by “ men of like passions ” with those who are placed under
their tuition and government.

The discipline of Providence is not pressed with these diflBculties.
For, in tho first place, under the corrections of Heaven, we feel ourselves

2G4

SERMON III,

smitten by an invisible hand, which we can neither resist nor escape.
The most irreligious have been awed into submission by the visitations
of the Almighty, and the stoutest heart has been made to quail at the
thunder of his power. “ It is the Lord.” “ Let the potsherd strive
with the potsherds of the earth : woe unto him that striveth with his
Maker.” In the second place, the consideration of the equity and good¬
ness of the Ruler of the Universe composes the mind, and prepares it
for reaping benefit from his severest corrections. We sometimes find
this impression partially made on those reprobate characters who have
“ sold themselves to work wickedness.” “ Seest thou how Ahab
humbleth himself before me V’ But it produces its full effect on those
who are under the habitual influence of the fear of God. Reverencing
his judgments, they are excited to search and try their ways, humble
themselves under his mighty hand, and own that he hath punished
them less than their iniquities have deserved. The reverence we feel
for the best “ fathers of our flesh ” must suffer an abatement from our
consciousness that during the “ few years ” that we were under their
authority, they not unfrequently corrected us after their own plea¬
sure,” at the irregular and capricious call of passion ; but the shadow of
this infirmity never passes over the impartial eye of the Father of
spirits. Even when his inflictions proceed immediately from men, and
in this view are unmerited, the godly person recognises the secret
direction of a higher hand, and thus is preserved from those embittered
feelings which would have been fatal to his improvement. “ Let him
curse, for the Lord hath bidden him.” In the third place, the discipline
of God is administered with infinite wisdom, combined with the most
compassionate tenderness. He adapts the remedy to the disease ; and
never treats one case exactly as he treats another. While “ he is wise,
and will not hold back his hand” until his salutary object is gained, he
is merciful, and will not crush the prisoners of the earth, nor afflict
beyond what they are able to bear. “ In measure,” when their corrup¬
tion “ shooteth up, he will debate with it ; he stayeth his rough wind
in the day of his east wind ;” he acts like a skilful physician, who,
when he finds it necessary to prescribe a severe course of cathartics,
judiciously administers at intervals an emollient or a gentle opiate, to
aUay irritation, and recruit the exhausted strength of his patient. This
is beautifully illustrated by “the affliction of Joseph.” He was first
thrown into great anguish by the apprehension that his brothers meant
to take away his life, from which his being sold to the Isimieelites was
a relief. After being subjected to the drudgery and indignities of a
slave, he was raised to a reputable situation in the house of his master.
When thrown into a dungeon, God gave him favour in the eyes of his
keeper, who released him from the galling fetters with which he was
bound, and treated him with all the honours of which a prison
admitted. The despondency which a tedious imprisonment, without

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

265

any prospect of release, is apt to engender, was warded off by the inci¬
dent of Pharaoh’s officers. And at last, when the hopes which he had
formed from the gratitude of the chief butler, after the expiry of two
long years of forgetfulness, were about to give up the ghost, “ the king
sent and loosed him, even the ruler of the people set him free.” “ Lo !
these are parts of his ways.” And those who are well instructed in
divine history, and have been attentive observers of Providence, can
easily add to their number.

Every one has his ruling passion, by which he is ready to be brought
into bondage, in consequence of his being constitutionally addicted to it,
or placed in circumstances which expose him to its attacks. Softness
and effeminacy, cherished by the ease of pastoral life, and a fondness
for the fine arts, appear to have been the besetting sins of David. If
he had been left to his o^vn inclinations, and to choose his lot, he would
have occupied himself in “ inventing instruments of music, chanting to
the sound of the viol, and (if he had risen to rank) lying on beds of
ivory, drinking wine out of bowls, and anointing himself with the chief
ointments.” This love of ease and pleasure must have quenched any
higher feelings in his breast, and disqualified him for governing a great
and warlike nation. But it was corrected by the wise arrangements of
Providence, placing him in a situation in which he learned to “ scorn
delights, and live laborious days,” and was trained, amidst hardships
and perils, to self-denial, temperance, fortitude, and vigilance. The
education which Moses received at the court of Pharaoh was calculated
to increase his native elation of spirit, prompting to daring and gener¬
ous deeds, but marked with precipitation and haughtiness. During
his forty years’ exile, his pride was subdued, his zeal was tempered by
self-command, he was qualified for interposing between the haughty
tyrant and the helpless victims of his oppression ; and “ now the man
Moses was meek above all the men which were upon the face of the
earth.” Vanity appears to have been the vice to which Joseph was
most addicted, or under the dominion of which he was in the greatest
danger of falling. His personal beauty, his early endowments, the
dreams of future glory which haunted his pillow, his father’s partiality,
and even his brethren’s envy, had all a tendency to feed a passion so
natural to the youthful breast. Had it not been checked, who can say
into what follies, or even vices, it would have betrayed him ? If he had
been suddenly raised to honour, or had he fallen into the hands of
artful and interested flatterers, the counsellor of Pharaoh might have
turned out a courtly coxcomb, and the favourite son of Jacob a spoiled
child of larger growth. But the sore and repeated humiliations he met
with not only mortified but subdued his vanity, so that when he was
exalted in due time, he was able to bear all the honours heaped on him
with meek and humble dignity, not for personal ostentation, but to the
glory of God and the good of mankind.

266

SERMON III.

It is one of the greatest proofs of the advantages resulting from
sanctified affliction, that it sometimes produces such a change on the
temper and dispositions of a man, as to render it extremely difficult to
discover the vice to which he was originally inclined. To those who
had known Moses only from the time that he undertook the conduct of
Israel, what a surprise must it have been when they witnessed him at
Rephidim smiting the rock violently, and crying, “ Hear, ye rebels ;
must we bring you water from the rock f ’ Ah ! that was a flash, pro¬
duced by a sudden temptation reaching, in an unguarded moment, the
remains of an old fire, long smothered, but not yet extinct.

III. Affliction, while it purifies and strengthens the higher, serves to
improve the softer qualities of the mind. To fit a person for great
deeds, he must possess the hardy virtues of patience and constancy,
and the nobler qualities of disinterested devotion to the public, and an
independence of mind raising him above the mastery of external circum¬
stances. Without these there can be no patriotism, sacred or secular.
Not to tax your patience, I shall confine the illustration to one of the
qualities mentioned, which, in its pure and unalloyed state, is more
precious than the gold of Uphaz. Selfishness is one of the most subtle
principles in our nature, and appears under a great variety of modifica¬
tions. It is not so difficult to find persons Avho are elevated above the
servile fear of danger, and the sordid love of gain ; but how rare the
man of whom it can be truly said, that he is “good without show, above
ambition great !” The storm which overtook the fugitive prophet, and
engulfed him in a living grave, set him free from the fear of man, but
not from that selfishness which led him to conceive a mortal chagiln
at the supposed discredit reflected on his ministry by the clemency of
Heaven. To purify their minds from this alloy. Providence causes its
elect ones to pass through the furnace of affliction, and it is not until
they have siiffered a series of keen disappointments, and humiliating
reverses, that, extricated from “ the last infirmity of noble souls,” they
mount to the region of pure and disinterested benevolence. Repeatedly
baulked, as Joseph was, in their most sanguine hopes, stript of aU in
which they boasted, cut off from all whom they loved, and cast off by
aU in whom they confided ; deserted, betrayed, persecuted ; they are
made to feel the vanity and deceitfulness of the world, and their souls
are disenchanted and disenthralled from its fairest and most fascinating
allurements. Its applause is as sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal
to him who has experienced its hoUowness and insincerity. Its sweetest
incense is insipid, yea nauseous, to him Avho has seen it lavished on the
most worthless, or who has himself felt its intoxicating and deleterious
effects. Shall he court or feed upon the airy, light, mconstant, deceit¬
ful, polluted breath of public favour, whose heart yet aches from the
reproaches with which it has been iDroken — whose face still reddens
with the recollection of the shame which covered it — whose best actions

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

267

have been calumniated — his purest motives misrepresented — and his
most unfeigned professions branded as hypocrisy and a lie ! 0, no ! his
soul has escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler, and is already
in mid-heaven, and, still looking upward, scents celestial odours, and
seeks the honour that cometh from God only.

But sanctified affliction, while it raises the person above all that is
low and earthy in his motives, does not incapacitate him for acting his
part on earth, or for mingling with suffering and erring mortals. He
comes out of tribulation a nobler being, but still a human being. It has
taught him that he is a man, and to look upon nothing that flesh is heir
to as foreign or indifferent to him. While it hardens the soul to virtue,
it softens the heart, and melts it to pity and love. In this manner was
Joseph qualified for being the almoner to the famished Egyptians, the
protector of his brethren, and the tender nurse of his aged parent. He
“ knew the heart of a stranger,” and what it was to be in straits, and
suspected, and falsely accused, and treated as a felon ; and, therefore, he
felt sensitively and strongly for such as were in these circumstances.
This appears from the whole of his conduct to his unnatural brothers,
but from no part of it so much as that which succeeded the burial of
Jacob ; when, dreading that, after that event, he might resent their for¬
mer cruelty to him, they sent a deputation to him to say that their
father, before his decease, had charged them, in his name, to beg for¬
giveness of their trespass. “ J oseph wept when they spake unto him.”
The drops that feU from his eyes at this time were more precious indi¬
cations of a tender heart than all the tears with which he bedewed the
necks of his brethren when he made himself known to them. “Ah ! my
brethren, you know not that you now wound my heart more deeply
than did all your unkindness at Dothan. Forgive your trespass 1 That
I cannot now do. It was done long ago ; and the deed was ratified on
that day when, unknown to you, I listened to your penitential confes¬
sion, since which time the trace of the offence has not passed across my
remembrance except in thanksgivings to Him who overruled it for good
to me and to you.” So saying, he “ comforted his brethren, and spake
kindly to them.” And as he did so, his “ stern rugged nurse ” ^ dropped
a tear on her favourite cliild, and she turned not aside to hide it.

But, my friends, I would have given you a partial view of the cha¬
racter of Joseph, and concealed one important element that enters into
the characters of all who belong to the same class, unless I added, as I
now do.

In the last place — that sanctified adversity produces strong confidence
in God. We find Joseph, from the first time he is introduced to our
notice, acting under the influence of the fear of God ; but this filial fear
grew, in the course of his trials, into unshaken confidence in the favour
and help of the Almighty. He had been in deaths oft ; but he who

1 Gray’s Ode to i^iversity.

268

SEEMON III.

had shown him great and sore troubles, quickened him again, and
brought him again from “ the depths of the earth.” The depth of the
distresses into which he was plunged had the effect of disengaging him
from the vain confidence which he was apt to place in himself or in other
men ; the height of his deliverances confirmed his confidence in that
divine arm which had been so visibly displayed in his behalf. To this
we find the venerable patriarch referring when he poured his dying
benediction on the head of Joseph, and the crown of the head of him
that was separated from his brethren “ The archers sorely grieved
him, and shot at him, and hated him ; but his bow abode in strength,
and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the mighty
God of Jacob, who kept watch around the stone of Israel.”

It is this high but well-grounded confidence which has raised the
characters of those illustrious men whose names are enrolled in the in¬
spired records or in the pages of the faithful history of the church, who
have done, and dared, and suffered, and sacrificed so much for the
honour of God and the best interests of mankind.

This divine principle is the basis upon which are reared that patience,
and constancy, and fortitude, and courage, and magnanimity which
have risen above all Greek, above all Roman fame. It imparts to those
who possess it a strength of mind beyond that which constitutionally be¬
longs to them. It arms them with omnipotence itself ; for, in every¬
thing to which they are called, they are “ strong in the Lord and the
power of his might. ” And though clothed with humility, and ready to
acknowledge they are nothing, yet through Christ strengthening them
they can do, and dare, and suffer everything for the glory of God and
the salvation of men. Such were those “ who through faith subdued
kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths
of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out
of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight
the armies of the aliens. ” ^ And such was he who could say, “ At my
first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me.^ — Notwith¬
standing the Lord stood with me, and strengthened me.”^

From this subject we may see — ■

1. One way in which Providence authenticates the call of its chosen
ministers. It is not enough to warrant a person to undertake a public
service, especially of an arduous and extraordinary kind, nor is it enough
to warrant others to countenance him in undertaking it, that he feels a
strong inclination to the work. This, allowing that it proceeds from the
purest motives, may be enthusiastic, or founded on a very mistaken esti¬
mate of his gifts. There is a course of preparation which persons must
go through to fit them for the occupation to which they are destined ;
and that is the cornpletest course which is practical as well as didactic.
Luther, no doubt with a special regard to the circumstances of his own

1 Heb. xi. 33, 34. ^ ^2 Tim. iv. 16, 17.

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

269

; time, but not exclusively, makes one of the three qualifications for a
preacher of the Gospel to be temi^tation, an art which is not to be ac-
! quired in any college or hall of divinity. The advocates of the papacy
were accustomed to press the reformers on the legitimacy of their
vocation to the work which they had undertaken, and tauntingly asked
; them to produce the proofs which the apostles gave. Little did they
consider that the men whom they revded and resisted, without pretend¬
ing to be apostles, had one of the signs of apostleship on which great
, stress is laid in the New Testament, both by them and him that sent
' them. “ He is a chosen vessel, ” said the Lord to Ananias, who scrupled
[ to go in to Saul of Tarsus, “ to bear my name to the Gentiles ; for I
will show him how great things he shall sutler for my name.” “Are
1 they ministers of Christ ? ” said the same person to those who “ sought
a proof of Christ speaking by him,” and preferred his detractors. “ I
I am more ; in labours more abundant, in stripes beyond measure, in
I prisons more frequent, in deaths oft.” This is the test to which their
divine Master puts their qualifications ; and their enduring it is the
i stamp of his approbation. He “ causes them to pass through fire and
water.” This is the judgment of God, for which men, in the dark ages,
mistook the symbols. In this way the self-indulgent, the effeminate,
the feeble-minded, as well as the faithless and false-hearted — the lovers
! of ease and honour, as well as the lovers of wealth and pleasure, are
I detected and separated from those choice and resolute spirits who are
jirepared to do, and suffer, and sacrifice everything for God and public
i good. If when brought to the mouth of the furnace they blanch and
: become pale, if they look back or look strange on the fiery trial, they are

‘ not fit for their high and heavenly calling. “ Every one shall be salted

with fire. ” One is required to part with worldly goods, and becomes
sorrowful — “ the Lord hath refused him. ” Another is required to part
with friends, and thinks it a hard saying — “ neither hath the Lord chosen
him. ” Another shrinks from pain, another from shame, another from
death — “ the Lord hath not chosen these. ” But is there one who, when
brought to the trial, is “moved by none of those things'?” “Arise,

anoint him : for this is he.”^ The enduring of affliction is the impress of

! Heaven, set on the objects of its choice ; the seal appended to the com-
! mission of those to whom it has delegated its powers of dispensing good.

! It is at once the warrant to the delegate, and his answer to all chal¬
lengers. “ Henceforth let no man trouble me, for I bear in my body
! the marks of the Lord Jesus.”

2. One reason why there are no great men in our time — there have
been no great trials. We have been born, we have been reared, we have
lived, each under his vine and his fig-tree, none making us afraid. “ No
temptation hath happened to us but what is common to men ; ” and,
therefore, we are common men and common Christians, common states¬
men and common churchmen. We have men of great talents, but not

1 1 Sam. xvi. 7 — 12.

270

SERMON III.

of great characters ; of enlarged, or rather improved understandings, but
of little souls. So far from being lifted above the more refined and
spiritualised selfishness of the world, it is rarely, and with difficulty,
that we rise above its grosser atmosphere. How far inferior, in point
of self-denial and devoteduess, of faith and patience, of firmness and re¬
solution, of noble daring, and still nobler doing and enduring, to those
patriots, confessors, and martyrs, to whom, under God, we owe our re¬
ligion and liberties, and (what many among us value more highly than
these) our knowledge and science. We flatter ourselves that we could
teach them and correct them ; but 0 how we would have marred that
great work which they achieved ! They were men, and they had their
faults, and there is no sanctity about their faults, rendering it unlawful
to point them out ; but let us remember, that it is one thing to perceive
them and another thing to judge of them ; for this last requires that we
be able to take the altitude and circumference of those virtues with
which they are connected. What renders a pigmy hunch-backed, would
be but a small wen on a giant. We should also recollect that we are in
danger of falling into the error of the tyro in the use of the telescope,
who fancied he had discovered a new spot in the sun when it was only a
speck of dust which he had unskilfully left on the lens of his instru¬
ment.

But let us not, in attempting to do justice to those men whom Provi¬
dence has honoured to be instruments of good to mankind, forget our¬
selves and our duty. There is no degree of purity, or strength of piety,
to which any may have attained by the aid of corrective discipline, which
is not incumbent on us ; for we are bound to love the Lord our God
with all our hearts, and our neighbours as ourselves. But we have to
do with a being of infinite wisdom and mercy, who, in carrying on his
plan of recovering us from the misery of our natural state, graciously
accepts us in his beloved Son according to the improvement we make of
the means which we enjoy, forgives our failures, and helps our infirmities.
Let your aims be high, though you should come short of the mark.
Think upon those ancients who have obtained a good report, and recol¬
lect that, great as they were in some respects, “God hath provided some
better tiring for us, that they without us should not be made perfect.”
0, what obligations lie upon us as Christians, as Protestants, and as Brit¬
ish Protestants ! Consider yourselves as almoners not only of the tem¬
poral, but also of the spiritual bounties of Providence. Remember that
Joseph was raised up, not only to provide a habitation for his father’s
house, but to save much people alive in the land of Egypt and in all the
surrouncbng countries. Think on the magnanimous sentiment which
was committed to writing in a tent-maker’s shop in Corinth, and sent
by Phoebe, a female member of the church at Cenchrea : “ I am debtor,
both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians, both to the wise and to the
unwise : so, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the Gospel to you

THE ADVANTAGES OF ADVERSITY.

271

that are at Kome also. For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ ;
for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth ; to
the Jew first, and also to the Greek.

In fine, my friends, has God exempted you from afflictions 1 Sympa¬
thise with those who suffer, as being yourselves in the body ; and re¬
membering that you have more need of liberal communications from
the Spirit of all grace to preserve you from temptation, pray to God
without ceasing, “ that ye may be filled with the knowledge of his will
in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, that ye may walk worthy of
the Lord unto all pleasing. ”

1 Rom. i. 14 — 16.

272

SERMON IV.

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

“ The Lord give mercy unto the house of Onesiphorus ; for he oft refreshed me,
and was not ashamed of my chain : hut, when he was in Rome, he sought me out
very diligently, and found me. The Lord grant unto him that he may find
mercy of the Lord in that day ; and in how many things he ministered unto
me at Ephesus, thou knowest very well.” — 2 Tim. i. 16-18.

Op all the circumstances which accompany adversity, none give more
acute pain to a person of sensibility and generous mind than the un¬
kindness and desertion of friends. His distress on that account does
not arise so much from the loss of the assistance and advice, or even of
the society and sympathy of those on whom he had been wont to rely,
although he feels this sensibly, but it arises chiefly from those dark and
gloomy views of human nature with which the infidelity of friends is
apt to fill the soul, inducing the deceived individual to dread the most
sincere professions, and sometimes shaking his rehance on Providence
itself. Such feelings are peculiarly apt to be excited in his breast by the
violation of those friendships which were consecrated by religion, and in
which the parties had become bound to one another by pledging their
common faith to a higher Power. In this case, his firmest confidences
being uprooted, and his holiest affections cheated, he feels at the same
time desolate and oppressed — he feels as if all things were moved from
their foundations, and “ the earth, with all the inhabitants thereof, were
dissolving,” while he labours to “bear up the pillars of it.” Such
appears to have been tlie state of the Psalmist’s mind, and he mentions
it as the acme of his trouble when he describes these words as bimsting
from him in the haste and agitation of his spirit, “All men are liars.” It
was in a paroxysm produced by this cause that Jeremiah cursed the day
of his birth. And hence also another prophet was led to exclaim in
strains which partook more of the bitterness of grief than of anger :
“ Woe is me ! The good man is perished out of the earth, and there is
none upright among men. The best of them is as a brier, the most
upright is sharper than a thorn-hedge. Trust ye not in a friend, put
ye not confidence in a guide. ” The minds of the best and most pious of
men would be overset by this temptation, if they were left to their own

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

273

resolution and reflections. But God is faithful, and will not suffer them
to be tempted beyond what they are able to bear ; he tempers the seve¬
rity of their trial, and in his wisdom provides such external means as he
knows to be best calculated to restore their peace of mind and re-estab¬
lish their confidence. And who can express the delight which they feel
in this deliverance !, How joyfully they shake off the damps which
oppressed them— while their relieved spirits rise, like a bird which has
escaped from the snare, to their native element of unbounded confidence,
expressed in gratulations and in prayers poured out for those who have
been the honoured instruments of effecting their rescue — let the words
of the apostle which we have read to you declare.

Few minds have been so formed for relishing and imparting the
refined and elevated enjoyments of Christian friendship as that of
Paul. This is apparent, to mention no other proofs at present, from the
tender manner in which he salutes those with whom he had formed a
sacred intimacy in the different places which he had visited, and the
evident pleasure with which he transmits, in his letters to them, the
salutations of those who surrounded him. It is observable that these
are most numerous in his earlier epistles, and that they become rare in
those which he wrote towards the close of his apostolical career ; Not
surely that this holy affection burned with abated ardour in his breast,
but because the objects of it were diminished. As he approached the
termination of his course, and as his sufferings increased and his danger
became greater and more imminent, he found the ranks of Ms friends
gradually thinned, until at last he was left to stand and fight the good
fight alone. To this he repeatedly alludes with deep feeling, but at the
same time with a composure which shows that he had overcome the
distress which it once gave him, in this epistle to his beloved son
Timothy, written during his second imprisonment at Rome, and only a
short time before the martyrdom which he endured there for the name
of Christ. “ All they that are in Asia be turned away from me,” says
he. “Only Luke is with me. At my first answer no man stood
by me, but all men forsook me.” The selfishness, inconstancy, and
cowardice, which were thus brought to light, could not but wound the
spirit of Paul ; but the wound was healed. Though cast down he was
not dispirited— though deserted by his friends he was not left destitute.
He could say with his divine Master, that, though they left him alone,
yet was he not alone, and he felt no lack. “All men forsook me—
nevertheless the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, and I was
delivered from the mouth of the lion.” At the bar of the Emperor he
was enabled to “ open his mouth boldly ” in confessing and pleading the
cause of Christ ; and when remanded to Ms prison, and when his timid
friends in Rome stood aloof from him, the compassionate Master whom
he served brought from a distance a friend whose seasonable and
divinely arranged visit banished every remains of gloom from his mind,
and inspired him with fresh alacrity for the approaching crisis of the

274

SERMON IV.

combat. When Paul had landed in Italy, some of his brethren in
Kome came out to meet him, “ whom when Paul saw, he thanked God,
and took courage.” ^ How ravishing to salute dear friends after escap¬
ing from the perils of a storm ! And, amidst the wreck of our friend¬
ships, when, on first recovering from the shock which it produced, we
thought of opening our eyes on blank desolation, how reviving to find
standing by our side one friend whom we had not seen for a long
period of time, but who had never lost sight of us, and who, heaven-
directed, had fiown as on angel wings to succour and comfort us ! One
“ friend who loveth at all times,” and whose visits are paid in the season
of adversity, is snfiicient to compensate for the loss, if loss it can be
called, of ten thousand of those giddy pretenders to friendship who
buzzed about our ears in the noon of prosperity, whom the slight shower
brushed away, and who, in spite of all our caution, left upon us the spots
of their vain and vitiating flattery. Such a friend Paul found in
Onesiphorus. From the manner in which it is here mentioned, we
perceive that the kind visit and Christian conversation of this friend
had left a fragrance behind him which continued still to refresh the
spirits and cheer the solitude of the apostle. He dismisses the Asiatic
deserters with a single sentence ; but having mentioned the name
of Onesiphorus, he did not know how to break oft'; so much did his
heart overflow with gratitude and affection to his ancient and steady
benefactor.

In point of expression and structure this episode possesses great beauty,
not that which consists in the choice and arrangement of words, but a
beauty which art in its highest finishings cannot reach — the impress of
the moral and religious feeling which dictated it. The breaks and the
repeated changes in the form of address forcibly depict the feelings of
the writer — the eagerness and impatience which he felt to express his
gratitude to that good man who had shown that he was not ashamed
of the cross of Christ, nor of himself, his prisoner and champion, at a
time when so many timid and worldly professors had deserted both.
It is a rare example (the only one I know) of prayer and narrative, an
address to God and to men intermingled, and in which the familiarity
used with the latter does not diminish in the slightest degree the
reverence due to the former, who “ will have mercy and not sacrifice.”
He begins with an address to Heaven in behalf of his friend’s family ;
“ The Lord give mercy to the house of Onesiphorus.” But he interrupts
this solemn address to acquaint Timothy with the obligations which he
was under to him : “For he oft refreshed me, and was not ashamed of
my chain ; but when he was in Rome, he sought me out very diligently,
and found me.” He then resumes his prayer for him in still more
solemn and fervent accents : “ The Lord grant unto him that he may
find mercy of the Lord at that day.” And he concludes by adverting
to his early kindness and benefactions with which Timothy was already

1 Acts, xxviii. 15.

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP,

275

•well acquainted : “ And in how many things he ministered to me at
Ephesus thou knowest very well.” Here, my brethren, you have two
portraits dra’wn with the same pencil and by the same strokes ; and it
is difficult to say which is most worthy of being admired and imitated
— the Christian beneficence and constancy of Onesiphorus, or the
Christian gratitude and piety of Paul. Let us contemplate each of them
for a little.

I. Of the conduct of Onesiphorus,

This benevolent Christian was an inhabitant of Ephesus, and a
member of the church there. Like many of his fellow-citizens, he most
probably “owed his own self” to the apostle; and he testified his love
to the Gospel, and his gratitude to his spiritual instructor, by minister¬
ing to him liberally of his substance during the time that he preached
in that city. It appears from Paul’s farewell address to the elders of
the church at Ephesus, that, with the view of not being burdensome to
them, he had laboured with his o'wn hands for his support. ' But as his
labours were interrupted by public teaching, and by persecution, an
opportunity was afibrded to benevolent indi-viduals to relieve him from
straits, which, although his fortitude and self-denial would have enabled
him to bear them, could not have failed to distress his mind, and to
hinder him in the discharge of his official duty. In imparting this
relief, Onesiphorus had distinguished himself, being, as is most likely,
a person in good or opulent circumstances. Though the apostle did
“ not desire a gift,” and had learned to “ suffer need,” as well as to
“ abound,” yet he “ desired fruit to abound to the account ” of those
among whom he laboured. Hence he “rejoiced in the Lord greatly”
that “ the care ” which the Christians at Philippi showed him, at their
first acquaintance, had “ flourished again ” after a season of suspension ;
and he calls the things which were sent from them, “ an odour of a
sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing to God.” ^ On this
account it “ refreshed ” him to recollect the kindness with which
Onesiphorus had treated him at Ephesus. He does not tell us in how
many things he had ministered to him. This it would not have been
easy for him to do, if it had been necessary. In how many ways, my
brethren, may we serve others, and contribute to their comfort, even
though our means be slender and scanty ! Nameless, countless are the
kindnesses performed by a zealous and vigilant benevolence, exerting
itself in the spirit and after the example of Him who “prevents us
with blessings of goodness manifold!” It is not the magnitude or
costliness of gifts that proves the goodness of the donor, or does most
good to the recipient ; it is their number, their repetition, their season¬
ableness, and the considerate and delicate manner in which they are
conferred The goodness of Heaven, in nature and in grace, steals
upon us, and its choicest blessings descend in drops so small as not to

1 Acts, XX. 33—35. ^ phiUp. iv. 10—18.

276

SEKMON IV.

be perceived, and with such gentleness as scarcely to be felt. Largesses
may be bestowed in such a way as to chill the heart and lacerate the
feelings, while small and comparatively inconsiderable favours drop like
the rain, and distil like the dew, which refresh and saturate the earth.

The early beneficence of Onesiphorus was not forgotten by Paul.
But what he was most desirous to record, was the kindness he had
lately shown him in Rome. In the many proofs of aflection which he
had formerly given, he had “ done virtuously but this last “ excelled
them all.” And wherein did its surpassing excellence lie '? It proved
him to be a friend indeed ; one who “ sticketh closer than a brother.”
A person may be capable of deeds both disinterested and generous —
romantically generous, and yet he may want that quality without which
he is not entitled to the sacred name of friend. Constancy is the
cardinal, the crowning property of friendship, the only inimitable and
imperishable impress of its genuineness. Though a man should be
willing to give all his goods to feed another, yea, and his body to be
burned for him, yet if he is liable to be fickle and changeable in his
attachments, he is no friend, — he cannot be depended on. And here it
is, my brethren, that the professions of regard and friendslfip which
abound in the world fail, and are found to be nought. Behold this
have I found, counting one by one to find out the account, which yet my
soul seeketh, but I find not : One man that is generous and disinter¬
ested among a thousand have I found ; but a man that is constant and
unalterable among all those have I not found. True friendship keeps
pace with time ; changes not with the changes of fortune j sinks not
with the opinion of the world ; rises superior to offences ; views its
object with the same unaltered eye through the atmosphere of good
report and of bad report, in the light of honour, and under the cloud
of disgrace. A man may grow old, and his visage and form be com¬
pletely altered, he may fall into poverty and under reproach, he may
incur the odium of mankind, and see reason to be displeased with his
own conduct ; but he cannot hate or forget himself ; and as he is, so is
his friend, who, in this respect, partakes of his personal identity. Paul
continued to be the same to Onesiphorus that he had been on the first
day of their acquaintance, — the same at Rome as at Ephesus, — the
same when deserted as when surrounded by his followers,— the same
when a despised prisoner as when an applauded preacher, — the same
when chained with criminals as when seated among apostles on
thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

It is not said that he came to Rome for the express purpose of visiting
the apostle. Christianity does not require such works of supererogation ;
nor are such romantic deeds of generosity necessary to the maintenance
of Christian friendshii). However much Paul was gratified at seeing
his old friend, he would have been displeased, we may venture to say, if
he had undertaken such a journey merely for his personal gratification-
It was enough that, being in Rome, he did not forget his revered

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP, 277

teacher, now the prisoner of the Lord, but sought him out very dili¬
gently, and visited him oft.

“ I was in jirison, and ye came unto me,” is the top of the climax in
that beautiful description which our Saviour gives of those who shall
be acknowledged as his friends at the last day, and to which he subjoins
this explanation, “ inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,” This was a stronger
proof of friendship than giving him meat when he was hungry, or
drink when he was athirst ; and it was the only proof which, in the
circumstances stated, could be sustained. If Onesiphorus had made
some inquiries after Paul, but on finding it difficult to discover the
place of his confinement, had desisted from them, and left with some
member of the Roman church his affectionate salutations to the apostle,
together with a sum of money to support him in prison, think you, my
brethren, that this would have been accepted as a sufficient token of
regard, or that it would have refreshed the soul of the prisoner 1
Verily no. In that case Paul would have been disposed to reply to his
message in the words which a poet has put into the mouth of a female
mentioned in the New Testament, — “Visit me, and retain thy gifts.”
The present would have been regarded as an affront, and the salutations
as a renunciation of friendship. Nothing, we may be sure, which was
needful to relieve the temporal necessities of the apostle, or which
could help to lighten his chain, or alleviate his sufferings, would be with¬
held by this affectionate and munificent friend. But if anything of
this kind was given, it was not thought worthy of being mentioned at
the same time with his personal visit. Upon this Paul set a higher
value than upon “ all the substance of his house.” To see the face of
his ancient benefactor before he died, to receive his cordial and Chris-
I tian embrace, to hear again his well-known and never-forgotten accents,

' to learn from his own lips, what he had heard from the report of others,

' that he retained all his former love to Christ, to his Gospel, to his
servant, this — “ this was the refreshing.” This made all the garments
of Ms visitant to smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia ; and converted his
narrow and gloomy cell into an ivory palace, in which he could enter-
i tain and make glad his guest.

Though an apostle, though endued with such deep insight into the
mysteries of the Gospel, that the very chiefest of the apostles “ added
nothing to him in conference,” and though now grown old in Christian
experience, Paul did not think himself above receiving consolation and
' spiritual benefit from the meanest saint. In “giving and receiving”

: this, he was always ready to communicate with his brethren. Hence
i he assigned this reason for wishing to visit the Christians at Rome, —
“ that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both
of you and me.”^ We cannot doubt that he was “refreshed” on the
present occasion by the conversation which he held with Onesiphoras.

1 Rom. i. 18.

278

SEEMON IV.

And what might the nature of that conversation be 1 Not, perhaps,
exactly that which we might at first suppose it t to have been. When
Moses and Elias appeared with our Saviour on the Holy Mount, though
he was transfigured before them, they did not entertain him with the
glories of the celestial city from which they had just made their
descent ; but “ they spake of the decease which he should accomplish
at Jerusalem.” Paul and Onesiphorus would not spend the precious
moments in talking of the passing news of the day, nor even in recall¬
ing the incidents of their former life when they knew one another in
happier external circumstances. Their communings would be on higher
themes ; nor would their countenances be sad while they discoursed of
him who died for them, and rose again, and was now at the right hand
of God, — and of his love, from which no distance of place, or depth of
distress, or form of death, could separate them, — and of the triumphs
which the cross had gained over the powers of darkness, and the still
more signal triumphs which awaited it in its irresistible progress, — and
of the death by which Paul was shortly to glorify God, and to seal his
preaching, now “ fully made known to the Gentiles,”^ — and of the com¬
forts which would make him more than a conqueror in the closing con¬
flict, — and of the joy of his Lord into which he would immediately
enter. On these high and heart-ravishing themes would they dilate,
while the hours fled unheeded away, until the faint glimmerings of the
lamp, reflected from the walls of the cell, discovered to them the
haggard faces of its fierce inmates subdued into a temporary tameness,
while they listened with fixed attention to the strange things which now
for the first time saluted their ears; and while their every feature
expressed the surprise and astonishment which they felt at witnessing
the joy and transports of a detested criminal, who had the prospect of
speedily terminating his life in the midst of the most excruciating
torments.

But though the conversation of Onesiphorus must have imparted
high pleasure to Paul, it was not the chief source of the gratulation
which he expressed at his visit. What conveyed the most lively joy to
his heart, was the testimony which his Ephesian friend had given of his
love to the Gospel, by “despising the shame” with which its imprisoned
apostle was then loaded. “ He refreshed me,” for “ he was not ashamed
of my chain.” You may feel some difficulty in entering fully into the
force of this reason. If the apostle had said, “ He was not afraid of
incurring my bonds,” you could have understood him more easily. This
was included ; but there is great propriety in expressing the whole of
the sufferings to which Christians were then exposed by this part of
them ; for in reality shame was the gall of its bitterness. Hence the
language in which Paul addresses his exhortation to Timothy in the con¬
text : “ Be not thou ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me
his prisoner, but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the Gospel :” and
hence, too, his declaration concerning himself, “ I suffer these things.

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

279

nevertheless I am not ashamed.” You will err exceedingly, my
brethren, if you suppose there was any resemblance between Onesi-
phorus’s visit to Paul, and those which charitable and pious individuals
are now accustomed to pay to prisons, with the laudable view of alien¬
ating the bodily sufferings, or ministering to the spiritual wants of their
wretched inhabitants ; visits which, so far from exposing them to disgrace,
greatly enhance their reputation. Nor are you to imagine that the
shame was incurred by a man of respectable rank visiting and con¬
versing with a prisoner in chains, or that it arose in any degree from the
worthless character of the malefactors with whom the apostle was con¬
fined. So far was tliis from being the case, that it was then much less
disgraceful to suffer as a thief or a murderer than as a Christian. It
would lead us away from our subject to inquire into the causes which
co-operated in producing this feeling. Suffice it at present to say, that
'it appears from the concurring testimony of civil and ecclesiastical
history, that from a variety of causes (not involving the conduct of its
professors), Christianity had at this time fallen under extreme odium at
Rome, the most diabolical calumnies against its friends were industri¬
ously circulated and greedily believed ; and they were regarded by the
multitude, magistrates, and philosophers, with a mixture of hatred,
horror, and contempt not to be described. During his first imprison¬
ment, Paul was kept under an easy restraint, lived in his own hired
house under the guard of a soldier, received his friends, and preached the
Gospel, without any hinderance. But it was quite otherwise now during
his second imprisonment. He was thrown into chains, capitally
arraigned, and although he had miraculously escaped at his first appear¬
ance before Nero, yet he looked every day for the pronouncing of his
doom. Accordingly all his brethren, even those who had hitherto
stuck most closely by him, had withdrawn and left him to his fate. No
man knew him. It was only after a long search, and many fruitless
inquiries, that Onesiphorus could discover the dungeon in which he was
I confined, and trace him to his cell, where he was shut up with the most
depraved of the criminals who swarmed in the metropolis of the world
; — “ men-stealers, murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers,” who

yet shunned his society, and looked on themselves as they were looked on
by others, as felons less foul than — that Christian.

Come hither, my brethren, draw near, and look on infant Christianity,
“ the mother of us all.” Do ye recognise her 1 Her cradle a cell, her
clothing rags, her swathing-band an iron chain, her nurse a jailer, her
! mates and betters the vilest of the malefactors ! Here let us humble

I ourselves, and try whether we be Christians indeed. All ! how little

I know we of suffering shame for the name of the Lord J esus !
Which of us would be able to bear the proof, if, to testify our attach¬
ment to him, it were necessary for us to submit to be made a gazing-
stock by reproaches and afflictions, or to become companions of them
that were so used ? It was this proof of love to the Gospel, and of

280

SERMON IV,

unextinguishable affection for himself on the part of Onesiphoms, that
penetrated the heart of Paul, and filled it with exultation. “ He was
not ashamed of my chain.” Ashamed of it ? No : he gloried in it,
embraced it, called it the chain of his blessed Saviour, and protested .
that for his sake he would willingly bind it about his neck, and wear it '
as a badge of distinction more honourable than the diadem of Caesar. ■

II. Of Paul’s return for the kindness of Onesiphorus.

Alas ! what return could he make for such rare and disinterested
goodness ? Although it had been possible to discharge the debt, he was
at present utterly destitute of the means. His feet were fast bound in
the stocks ; and he could not even testify his gratitude in that way in
which the meanest pauper feels a pleasure in doing it, while he accom¬
panies his benefactor to the door of the hovel which he had cheered by
his presence. All his friends had deserted him ; and there was not an
individual within the walls of the crowded city to whom he could j
delegate the performance of the rites of hospitality due to the friendly |
stranger. Did there, then, remain to Paul no way of expressing his j
gratitude ? Yes, there was one, and that more excellent and efficient
than all those to which we have alluded. He could not follow I
Onesiphorus to the door of his cell ; but he could follow him whither- bi
soever he went with his prayers. He could give him no assistance in i
the secular business which had brought him to Home ; but he could '
further his views in the more lucrative traffic which he carried on with j
heaven. He could not say to him, as the prophet to his Shunammite ]
hostess, “ Wouldst thou be spoken for to the king or the captain of the ,
host ? ” ^ But he had interest at a higher court than that of any king i
or emperor, and could speak for him to the Captain of Salvation. True j
he was in bonds ; but he was “ an ambassador in bonds ; ” and those who {
had dared to throw into prison the ambassador of the King of kings, and
to interrupt him in the discharge of his embassy, could not prevent him
from maintaining an intercourse with the court of heaven by prayer, or
from recommending to it any individual who, by showing kindness to
him, had befriended its interests. Paul had it not in his power to
testify his gratitude to Onesiphorus, as David did to Barziilai, by ;
receiving his son into his family but he recommended his whole
household to the tutelage and mercy of the bountiful Master whom he
served,

“ The Lord give mercy to the house of Onesiphorus ! ” It appears
from the close of the epistle, in which the apostle sends his salutations
“ to the household of Onesiphorus,” that the head of the family had
not yet returned to Ephesus, being most probably still detained in .
Italy on the business which had brought him from home. Like every ^
good man he would feel anxious about the safety of his family in his ,
absence, and would be much engaged in supplications to God in their

1 2 Kings, iv. 13. 2 2 Sam. six. 31 — 38.

CHKISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

281

behalf. Now what things he sought for them, these Paul also sought
for them in this brief but comprehensive petition ; “The Lord be a
father and head to them during the absence of their earthly protector
and guide ! Because he hath made the Lord, who is my refuge, even
the Most High, his habitation, let no plague come nigh his dwelling !
Shield them from sickness and violence, and every evil ! Above all,
preserve them in the paths of righteousness, in which they have been
trained to walk ! My God, supply all their need out of thy riches in
glory by Jesus Christ !” Wonder not that I consider this as applying
to the effects of mercy in time, for in this sense the apostle uses the
expression elsewhere, with reference to an individual to whom he was
greatly indebted : Epaphroditus “ was sick nigh unto death ; but God
had mercy on him (recovered him) ; and not on him only, but on me
also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow.” ^ How much would it
have added to the weight of Paul’s chain, if anything distressing had
happened to the family of his friend during this journey ! Doubtless,
however, this petition was not confined to temporal blessings, but
included what we find him next supplicating for Onesiphorus himself.

“ The Lord grant unto him that he may find mercy of the Lord in
that day ! ” And what could Paul say more 1 What could the most
liberal soul devise more liberally than this ? Enlarged as his desires
were, big, swelling, and overflowing with gratitude as his heart at this
time was, could he ask anything greater for his Christian friend and
benefactor than that at the great day of accounts, when he should stand
before the bar of the universal Judge, and await the sentence fixing his
eternal condition, he should “ find mercy of the Lord,” — be mercifully
acquitted, and accepted, and rewarded 1 He had shown mercy to the
apostle in the day of his trial, and he prays that mercy may be shown
to him in the day of his trial. He had “ refreshed him oft,” and he
prays that the great day of decision may be to his benefactor a “ time of
refreshing from the presence of the Lord.” The apostle had just been
expressing to Timothy his persuasion that he to whom he had “ com¬
mitted” his own soul was “ able to keep it against that day;” and what
higher testimony of his regard could he give to Onesiphorus than to
commit him to the same all-sufficient and faithful Redeemer ? He had
parted with him expecting to see his face no more until the day that
they should appear at the same judgment-seat ; and, therefore, he
“ commends ” him, as he had done the elders of the church to which he
belonged, “to God, and to the word of his grace, which was able to
build him up, and to give him an inheritance among all them which
are sanctified.” 2 This is Christian gratitude.

The repetition of the name of the person to whom he addresses him¬
self, and from whom he implores mercy to Onesiphorus, is expressive of
the fulness of the apostle’s heart, and the ardour of his affection. But
my object was not to bring forth all that is implied in the expressions,

I Philip, ii. 27. 2 Acts, xx. 32.

282

SERMON IV.

but to unfold the characters delineated in the passage. Let us now
improve the subject.

The improvement is twofold. We have here exemplified the power
of Christianity on two individuals placed in very different situations —
the one a private member of the church, the other an apostle; the one in
affluent circumstances, the other in the most destitute condition ; the one
at liberty, the other in chains, and about to be led out to an ignominious
death. The grace of God shines in both with a beautiful variety. Their
features differ, and yet they are evidently children of the same family. In
the charity and constancy of the one, in the piety and gratitude of the
other, and in the faith and fortitude of both, you may see what the Gospel
is capable of effecting, and thus have your confidence in its truth con¬
firmed. But the subject is to be improved also in the way of imitation,
by Cliristians in circumstances differing very widely. I shall point ont
a few of its lessons.

1. Learn to look more on the bright than on the dark side of the
picture of your lot. The mind easily catches the impression of the
objects on which it habitually dwells ; if they be dark, it will be
gloomy ; if they be light, it will be cheerful. Who so deeply and so
uniformly involved in afflictions as Paul, and yet who so uniformly and
so joyfully elevated as he ? One secret of this we perceive in the
passage before us. He was in bonds ; but Onesiphorus was not ashamed
of his bonds. He had been deserted by his friends ; but there was one
who had diligently sought liim out and found him. And he dwelt on
the last until the remembrance of the first was completely obliterated
from his mind. Go thou, Christian ; do likewise ; and then, “though
sorrowful, thou wilt be always rejoicing.”

2. Learn that Christianity does not extinguish any of the innocent
feelings of human nature, and improves those which are amiable. It is
natural for us to be dejected when we are forsaken and left alone ; and
to be cheered and refreshed by the visits, the conversation, and the
sympathy of friends. Such is our weakness here — the weakness of the
strongest — that we are easily dejected and easily elevated. God can
support the heart by his gracious assistance and the consolations of his
Spirit ; but such is the respect which he has for our frame, that he
often condescendingly and seasonably provides for us external cordials.
Paul tells us on another occasion that, when he was in great distress,
“ God, who comforteth them that are cast down, comforted him by the
coming of Titus.” Beware, my bretliren, of sullenly rejecting anything
of this kind when it is offered to you, or refusing to rejoice in it because
it falls short of the proper consolations of the Gospel. It is from God ;
the refreshing of your animal spirits may be introductory to spiritual
joy ; and by means of both you may be helped to glorify him. Our
blessed Redeemer himself, when he went to the garden of agony, took
three of his disciples along with him, to watch with him while he
prayed ; and when they fell asleep, there appeared unto him an angel.

CHKISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

283

strengthening him. And as Christianity does not war with the inno¬
cent, so it improves the amiable feelings. Instead of weakening, it
strengthens parental affection, excites it when it is dormant, checks its
excess, raises it from an instinct or a passion into a virtue, and expands
it into a warm and active concern for the spiritual and eternal welfare
of its endearing objects. This is true, also, of friendship and of
gratitude. They are not swallowed up in a feeling of universal benevo¬
lence, but purified and exalted by an infusion of Christian principle.
Onesiphorus had doubtless performed acts of beneficence to many others
besides Paul. Why are the latter only mentioned ? To afford you an
example of Christian gratitude.

3. Learn that beneficence is a native fruit of Christianity, and a leading
test, especially in the affluent, of Christian character. What is the Gospel
but the discovery of the love and kindness of God to man? Will not then
the unfeigned belief of it produce philanthropy, or a disposition, “ as we
have opportunity, to do good to all men, especially the household of
faith ? ” Who can resist the force of this divine logic : “ If God so
loved us, we ought to love one another,” and that not in word and in
tongue, but in deed, “ as he loved us, and gave his only begotten Son ?”
Do t/tey “know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,” or have they
“ tasted that he is gracious,” who are not disposed to be gracious and
merciful to their brethren ? Can they be said to believe that Christ
“ gave himself for them ” and “ delivered them from the wrath to come,”
and that they are “ blessed with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places
in him,” who will give nothing, or what is to them next to nothing, to
relieve their fellow-creatures and fellow-Christians from temporal dis¬
tresses and want ? Can they believe that the Son of God came from
heaven to earth on an errand of mercy, and gave himself a ransom for
men of all nations, who cannot extend their regards beyond those who
are of their own neighbourhood and country? Can they believe that
he gave himself for sinners, whose love and its exertions are confined
entirely to the righteous and the good ? True Christianity supplants an
inordinate affection to the things of the world by means of the love of
God, banishes that selfishness which disposes persons to retain what¬
ever they possess, and, by enlarging their hearts, makes them to give
without grudging, and to feel the words of the Lord Jesus, “ It is more
blessed to give than to receive.” Such was the influence of Christianity
on the primitive believers, when “great grace was upon them all —
neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed
was his own.” Such was its influence on the Macedonians, who con¬
tributed for the relief of their brethren in Judea “ to their power, yea,
and beyond their power.” Such was its influence on the Hebrews,
whose “ labour of love in ministering to the saints ” is commended by
the apostle. And such will be its influence in every age upon all who
are savingly acquainted with it. Without this, no attainments in
religious knowledge, no orthodoxy in point of sentiment, no zeal of God,

284

SERMON IV.

no correctness of moral conduct, no warmth of religious affections, no
disconformity to the world in its sinful fashions or vain amusements, no
mortifications or abstinence from the pleasures of life, will be a sure mark
or safe criterion of Christian character,

4. Learn from this subject what is the best expression of gratitude.
It is proper to testify our sense of favours received by acknowledgments
to our benefactors ; but the apostle, in the passage under consideration,
“ shows us a more excellent way,” while he pours out fervent supplica¬
tions to God in behalf of Onesiphorus and his family. He that does
the former does well ; he that neglects not the latter does better.
There is less danger of its being ceremonious or merely complimentary ;
and surely it promises to be more effectual and available. Those whom
Providence has placed in such circumstances as to require the assist¬
ance of others, should beware of failing in this duty, or of performing
it in a listless and cold manner. If you are subjected to hardships from
which your richer brethren are exempted, they are exposed to tempta¬
tions from which you are exempted. Pray for them that their table,
instead of becoming a “ snare to them,” may be sanctified, and that
they may not have all their good things in their life-time. If you are
deficient in making a return for gifts which you have received, you have
yourselves to blame. A Christian can never be a bankrupt, for he can
always draw on heaven. If you cannot pay your debts of gratitude
yourselves, you can by means of prayer transfer them to one who is
able to discharge them. Access to “ the throne of grace” is a precious
privilege to all saints, but it is doubly so to the poor ; for it enables
them to relieve themselves from a load which cannot fail to be oppres¬
sive to every feeling mind.

5. Those who are in ability are encouraged by this subject to behind
and compassionate to necessitous and afflicted Christians. By such
conduct you draw out their desires to God in your behalf ; and the
prayers of the righteous in such cases have the force of promises, as
their complaints against the cruel and oppressive have the force of
curses. Christians pray for all men, including their enemies ; but they
do not, and cannot pray for all with the same warmth and confidence.
When mentioning his desertion by his brethren at his appearance before
Nero, Paul says, “I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge !”
But there is a marked difference between that prayer and this in our
text. “ The prayer of a righteous man availeth much” when it is
“fervent.” Your acts of kindness will excite their religious affections,
cause them to remember you every time they bow their knees to their
heavenly Father, and fill their mouths with new arguments for enforcing
their petitions. Falling into their souls, your beneficence will refresh
them, open them to the rays of the sun of righteousness, and thus make
them send up their fragrance to heaven, like the earth when it has been
refreshed by a shower. Their prayers will be to your alms what the oil

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP. 285

and frankincense were to the meat-offering under the law ; and both will
ascend as “ a sweet savour unto the Lord.” ^

In fine, you may learn from this subject that deeds of beneficence and
charity are not meritorious in the sight of God. Those who teach the
merit of good works learned it not assuredly either from the doctrine
or the prayers of Paul ; for when his heart was penetrated most deeply
with a sense of the kindness of Onesiphorus, and when he prayed most
fervently that he might be rewarded for it, he employed in each petition
the plea of mercy. Your “goodness reacheth not unto God, but to the
saints and shall a few temporal favours which you have been enabled
to do for “the excellent of the earth” assume that mighty importance
in your eyes as to merit the kingdom of heaven ? Guard against
legalism as well as antinomianism ; and, 0 ! beware lest your vessel, fully
furnished with every good work, strike on that rock which has proved
fatal to the hopes of so many. “ Put on, as the elect of God, holy and
beloved, bowels of mercy, kindness,” but put on also “ humbleness of
mind.” When you have done all, say, “ We are unprofitable servants,
we have done no more than we ought to have done.” “ God is not
unrighteous to forget your labour of love.” Verily you shall have a
reward ; but then it will be a reward of grace and not of debt. Those
who deserve best of their fellow-creatures are most deeply impressed
with a sense of their ill-desert in respect of God ; and those who are
the most faithful “ servants of righteousness,” instead of claiming
“eternal life” as “wages” due to them, will be most disposed to re¬
ceive it as “the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Cherish
this disposition, and it will cause you to be not slothful but zealous and
diligent followers of them who, through faith and patience, inherit the
promises, and thus you shall make your calling and election sure to
yourselves. “Ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy
faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God,
looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.”

1 Lev. ii. ; Philip, iv. 18.

286

SERMON V.

THE PEAYER OF THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

“ And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy
kingdom.” — Luke, xxiii. 42.

When a friend whom we tenderly loved, and to whom we are deeply
indebted, has died at a distance from us, we are anxious to have the
fullest information respecting the manner and circumstances of his death ;
and we pemse, with a lively interest, the letters of those who relate
what they saw and heard on the melancholy occasion. We wish to
know the immediate cause of his death, the degree of pain which he
suft'ered, the treatment he received from his attendants, the conversation
which he held with them, his dying sayings, his last words, the day and
even the hour of his expiry, and the manner in which the final duty was
])aid to his earthly remains. All this information respecting the best
friend of men has been transmitted to us in the narratives which the four
Evangelists wrote of the death of Jesus Christ. His death, indeed,
differs widely from that of all other men ; it stands by itself, and is
altogether peculiar in its causes, and the designs which Providence
intended to effect by means of it. “ It is appointed to all men once to die,”
and every one dies for himself and not for others ; but Christ was once
offered “ to bear the sins of many and was “ cut off, but not for him¬
self.” This is the proper light in which that event ought to be viewed ;
and of such magnitude and interest is it, that it might seem, at first
sight, to exclude and banish the thought of everything else as trivial
and unimportant. “ Christ died for our sins,” you may be apt to say,
“ and that is enough for us to know.” But, my brethren, it is otherwise.
The circumstances of his death were fixed by the divine decree, as well
as the event itself ; they were revealed beforehand to the prophets ;
and we are furnished with minute details of them in the historical
books of the Hew Testament. They must, therefore, have a claim on
our devout attention. Nor is this all. It will be found on examination,
that they all contribute, in one way or another, to throw light on the
grand design of his dying, and to disclose or brighten the displays of the
wisdom of God in that unparalleled event. There was not a circum¬
stance of ignominy or pain in his sufferings which did not form an in-

THE PRAYER OF THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

287

gredient in that cup of wrath which he drank for us ; not a circumstance
of alleviation about them which did not enter into the cordial which
was needful to support him in the arduous work of achieving our redemp¬
tion ; and it is only in the way of our surveying the whole that we can
attain to a complete and comprehensive acquaintance with the enormity
of our own guilt, and with the breadth and length and height and depth of
that knowledge-passing love which prompted him to undertake our cause.
Nor is there one of these circumstances w^hich, when rightly viewed,
wdll not help to increase our faith, and to strengthen those feelings with
which we ought always to contemplate and remember the Lord’s death.

The most important and prominent of these circumstances (if circum¬
stance it can be called), is the kind of death which he suffered — that of
the cross. By this we are instructed in the nature and design of his
sufferings, agreeably to what was announced beforehand in a divine
statute, referred to by the apostle : “ Christ hath redeemed us from
the curse of the law, being made a curse for us : for it is written. Cursed
is he that hangeth on a tree.” ^ This holds true, also, of the circuin-
stances of his crucifixion, whether antecedent, concomitant, or conse¬
quent. Convinced of the innocence of the person brought before his
tribunal, and yet desirous to gratify the Jews, the Roman governor
thought to relieve himself from the embarrassment in which he was
involved by releasing Jesus, according to a custom which had been long
observed at the annual feast of the Passover. But the chief priests
instigated the populace, with loud voices, to demand the crucifixion of
Jesus, and the release of Barabbas. Now Barabbas was a notorious
felon, who had been guilty of sedition, a crime which rulers are usually
inclined to visit with exemplary punishment, and of murder, which
banishes sympathy for the criminal from the breasts of all classes of
men. The circumstance of such a malefactor being preferred to J esus,
Avhile it showed the malice of the priests and the infatuation of the
people, was, at the same time, a proof of the deep degradation of “ him
whom the man despised, and the nation abhorred.” Accordingly, it is
mentioned by the Apostle Peter, in one of the sermons which he
preached to his countrymen after the resurrection : “ Ye denied the
Holy One and the Just, and desired a murderer to be granted unto you.” *

But this was not all the indignity done to him. It was determined
that he should be crucified along with two malefactors, — thieves, high¬
waymen or robbers, as the original word properly signifies. Now, this
circumstance, as well as the crucifixion itself, happened according to
the prescient and wise appointment of Heaven, and served as an external
indication of the character in which he suffered as the surety of sinners.
Accordingly, the Evangelist Mark states it as a fulfilment of that Scrip¬
ture which saith, “ He was numbered with the transgressors, and did
bear the sins of many.”® We might have thought it likely that the
lives of some of his disciples would be sacrificed along with J esus, and

1 Gal. iii. 13. * Acts, iii. 14. s Mark, xv. 28 ; comp. Isa. liii. 12.

288

SERMON V,

that they would have been the companions of his cross ; but this was pre¬
vented for wise reasons by him who “ maketh the wrath of man to praise
him.” For the holy hand of God did not extenuate the guilt of his
murderers, who acted freely under the influence of their own malice and
cruelty, and whose object it was, by this arrangement, to cover him with
ignominy. They crucified him with the malefactors, the one on the right
hand, and the other on the left, and Jesus in the midst, to intimate that
he was the greatest criminal of the three. By this means they excited
against him the odium of the populace, who, always ready to judge from
appearances, would conclude that he was of the same abandoned character
as his fellow-sufferers : a piece of hellish policy in which the Jews have
been imitated by the court of Inquisition, who brought out those whom
they stigmatised as heretics, and committed them to the flames, along
with persons guilty of unnatural and detestable crimes. By this means,
too, the murderers of Jesus sought to aggravate his sufferings by expos¬
ing him to be disturbed in his last moments by the groans, and shrieks,
and blasphemies of such godless and impious wretches.

And in this they were not disappointed. For we are told, in verse
thirty-ninth, that “ one of the malefactors which were hanged, railed on
him, saying, If thou be the Christ, save thyself and us.” Consider, my
brethren, the situation in which Jesus was now placed. The chief
priests and rulers of the J ews, mixing with the mob who surrounded
his cross, encouraged them to load him with taunts and bitter mockery,
crying, “ He saved others ; himself he cannot save. If thou be the
Christ, the king of Israel, come down from the cross, and we will be¬
lieve on thee.” The soldiers who had crucified him, having parted his
garments, and cast lots for his vesture, had joined in reviling him. And
now at last, his fellow-sufiferer, who hung by his side, bursts forth in that
horrid expression, which has in it more of the irony of the fiend than
the agony of the sufferer : “ If thou be the Christ, save thyself and us.”
Now Jesus must have felt himself to be sunk low indeed, when he was
become the scorn of the most abject of the abjects. Now he might be
said to have descended into hell, and to endure the pains of heU, the
inhabitants of which are exposed to the reproaches of their companions
in torment. Ah ! how difficult was it to believe, at this moment, that
he was the Holy One of God ! Surely there was need of an attestation
to his personal innocence. And was there none given ? Yes ; — For a
voice was suddenly heard silencing the storm of ungodly scorn and
blasphemy, and vindicating the oppressed and meek sufferer. And
whence was it 1 Was it the voice of an angel, sent from heaven to re¬
buke the madness of mankind and comfort the dying Saviour ? Did it
proceed from one among the crowd who had formerly felt the healing
virtue of his word, and whose gratitude would not suffer him to be
longer silent ? Was it the voice of the disciple whom Jesus loved, who
ordinarily lay on his breast, and who had come to witness the cruci¬
fixion 1 Or, was it that of Peter, who, having recovered from the panic

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into which he had been thrown, and escaped from the toils of Satan,
was pressing through the multitude, determined to confess his Master
more openly than he had of late denied him 1 No ; the gates of heaven
were shut, and the angels were commanded to stand at a distance.
The friends of J esus were scattered ; and such of them as were present,
had their lips sealed with grief and fear. Did the voice then proceed
from the rocks ? and was the prediction of Jesus, “ If these hold their
peace, the stones shall cry out,” now fulfilled 1 Yes ; it was fulfilled in
a manner more striking than if that had happened which was literally
expressed by his words. The voice proceeded from the lips of an
ignorant and lawless robber — the fellow of the hardened malefactor,
whose blasphemous tongue had just been heard from the cross above
the clamour of the infuriate rabble wliich raged below. And what did
this new confessor say ? He rebuked his partner in language which
intimated that they were partners in crime no longer, in solemn accents,
but with a meekness which showed that his soul had already held
secret converse with him who hung silent by his side. He confessed
his past crimes, and the justice of the sentence under which he suffered,
and without the least murmuring, or palliation, or discrimination
between himself and his obdurate companion in guilt. Having ex¬
hibited these tokens of credibility, he justified the person who had been
condemned to suffer along with them, and bore an unhesitating testi¬
mony to his spotless innocence. And then turning his eyes to Jesus, he
said, “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”
Who can tell what these words conveyed ? None but he to whom they
were addressed, who saw into the bottom of the speaker’s heart, ap¬
proved of his confession, and answered his petition exceedingly above
what the petitioner could ask or think, when he replied, “ Verily, I say
unto thee. To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” It was not a
time, my brethren, for many words. But 0 how much is expressed by
these two short sentences, spoken from such hearts, and in such circum¬
stances ! What a colloquy was this ! What a communion ! What a re¬
spite from torture ! What a foretaste of paradise ! What a feast on a cross
between earth and heaven ! There was no opportunity for salutations or
embracing, or the exchanging of the symbolical cup. But what an ex¬
change of tender looks ! What a conjunction of hearts! What an intimate
friendship on so short an acquaintance ! What a joyful farewell before so
awful a parting ! Think you, my brethren, that either of the twain felt at
this moment the nails with which they were transfixed to the tree ? The
soul of the penitent thief was filled with a joy unutterable which must
have swallowed up all sense of pain. He rejoiced in the death by
wliich he now glorified God. He gloried on the cross, and “ in the
cross.” True, he was crucified, but then he was “ crucified with Christ,”
and that in another sense than his unhappy companion was, or than
any of the spectators of the scene knew or apprehended. This was to
him matter of ineffable gloriation. “ Blessed day on which I was over-

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taken and seized by the pursuivants of justice ! Blessed sentence, which
brought me into the company and acquaintance of the Saviour of sinners,
of the chief of sinners, and advanced me to the high, the distinguished
honour of suffering along with him !” At that moment, too, Jesus re¬
joiced in spirit. He saw of the travail of his soul, and was satisfied. He
felt that he was a conqueror. He had already begun to divide the
spoil ravished from principalities and powers, which he made a show of
openly, triumphing over them on his cross. In the conquest which he
had just achieved, he beheld an earnest of his subsequent triumphs over
the god of this world, and, exhilarated with the prospect, he “ endured
the cross, despising the shame.” The address of the believing, penitent
malefactor, was, at the same time, a prayer, a confession of faith, and a
sermon. But no such prayer had been offered up since “ men began to
call on the name of the Lord no such confession of faith was ever
made by council or assembly of divines ; no such sermon was ever
delivered by the most powerful and eloquent preacher. And then the
Saviour’s reply ! Many a compassionate, benignant, and seasonable
answer had he vouchsafed to those who invoked him, and who professed
their faith in him. But none of them equalled this. Pleased with the
confession of Nathanael, he said to him : “ Thou shalt see the heaven
open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of
Man.” To Peter he had said : “ Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona ; for
flesh and blood hath not revealed this unto thee, but my Father who is
in heaven.” To the Syrophenician : “ 0 woman, great is thy faith ; be it
unto thee even as thou wilt.” To the Roman Centurion : “ I have not
found such faith j no, not in Israel.” And to his disciples : “ Hence¬
forth I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until I drink it new with
you in the kingdom of God.” But to none of these did he say as unto
this poor, converted, crucified thief : “ To-day shalt thou be with me in
paradise.” He had made many converts during his personal ministry,
when he was a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. But of this
man he had made a convert on the cross, in the midst of great agony of
body and soul ; and, therefore, he rejoiced in him above all his fellows.
He was his Benoni, the sou of his sorrow ; and, therefore, he made him
his Benjamin, the son of his right hand.

But let us examine more coolly and attentively this singular address
of the convert on the cross. Let us consider, in the _^rst place, who he
was, and the circumstances in which he was placed ; secondl y, the
situation in which Jesus was when he addressed him ; thirdly, the pro¬
fession of faith which it contains •, and, fourthly, the prayer which it
expressed.

I. Consider the person who made the address, and the circumstances
in which he was placed. He was a thief and a robber — one who, by his
own confession, merited the ignominious death which he was suffering.
Abandoning the path of honest industry, he had betaken himself to the

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highway, and procured his livelihood by preying on the property and
life of the peaceable. Wlien we consider the character of Barabbas,
whom they preferred to J esus, and the design for which his fellow-
sufferers were selected, we may be sure that they were criminals of the
worst sort, whose practices had excited general hatred and terror. We
all know what the characters of those who have devoted themselves to
this mode of living are — how reckless of life — how destitute of principle
—how enslaved to every base and malignant passion — how dead to all
the feelings of honour, reputation, compassion, or compunction — how
insensible to the remonstrances of conscience, or the lessons of experi¬
ence — how regardless of God or man — how disposed to mock at every¬
thing that is sacred, at death, judgment, and eternity! You cannot
point to a class of men from whom you could select an individual less
likely to be affected with the scene of the crucifixion, or to sympathise
with the meek, and patient, and forgiving Jesus. The conduct of the
thief who reviled him, and the words which he is represented as having
used, are just what we would have expected from such a person in such
circumstances.

Matthew and Mark, in their account of the crucifixion, say, “ the
thieves also who were crucified with him reviled him,” and “ cast the
same in his teeth from which we might conclude that both acted in
the same manner when first afiixed to the cross, but that one of them
underwent a sudden change in his sentiments, which produced a com¬
plete alteration on his language, and led him to justify and pray to the
Saviour whom he had a little before reviled and outraged. This is no
impossible thing. Transformations as wonderful and as sudden have
been effected. Saul of Tarsus was arrested in the middle of his mad
career, and he who was “ breathing out threatenings ” against all who
called on the name of Jesus of Nazareth, was found the next moment
invoking that name of which he had been “ a blasphemer,” and with
the most humble and implicit submission, praying, “ Lord, what wilt
thou have me to do?” The jailer of Philippi is another example.
Having found the prison-doors open, and supposing that Paul and Silas
had escaped, he was in the very act of sheathing his drawn sword in
his own bowels, when on a sudden, on the speaking of a few words, the
weapon of destruction dropped from his hands, and the bold and deter¬
mined suicide hung trembling on the knees of his prisoners, and under
a deep concern about the safety, not of his body but his soul, cried out,
“ Sirs, what must I do to be saved V’ The same power which was so
visibly exerted in these instances could easily have purified the fountain
of ungodliness in this man’s heart at the very moment that the words
of bitter derision were flowing from his tongue, and made them to be
followed by the sweet and salutary strains of blessing and prayer
streaming from a smitten, softened, opened, and sanctified soul. But
as the evangelist Luke gives the most circumstantial narrative of the
extraordinary incident, it is more natural to consider his detail as quali-

292

SERMON V.

fying and explaining the general statement of his brethren ; and he
represents only one of the malefactors as reviling Jesus, and the other
as vindicating him. Nor is it uncommon in Scripture to affirm that of a
number of persons or things of the same kind, which is true of one of
them only. Thus we are told that the ark “ rested on the mountains of
Ararat,” that is, on one of them ; that Lot “ dwelt in the cities of the
plain,” that is, in one of them ; that “ the soldiers ran and filled a
sponge with vinegar,” that is, one of them did so. In like manner we
are told “ the thieves railed on him,” that is, one of them did it.

Although, however, the person mentioned in our text did not join in
the blasphemies of his comrade, we have every reason for thinking that
the cross was the place of his conversion ; and that he came to it
with no more knowledge of Jesus, and no more love to him, than his
fellow had. But while he was suspended on the cross his heart was
changed — he was convinced of sin, enlightened in the knowledge of the
Saviour, who was crucified along with him, humbled, sanctified, and
made a new man. That the influence by which this was brought about
was divine, there cannot be a moment’s doubt. The only question is —
as the Spirit of God does not ordinarily produce this change on the
minds of adults without the intervention and use of external means —
by what instrumentality was this man converted, and how did he attain
that knowledge of the truth concerning Christ which he displayed in
his address to him 1

Wlien Jesus began to teach in the synagogue of his native place, his
townsmen were astonished, and exclaimed, “Whence hath this man
this wisdom ? Is not this the carpenter’s son ? Whence then hath he
all these things f ’ There is reason for putting the same question as to
this thief, and under a similar feeling of astonishment. Like others
who have followed his unlawful trade, we have every reason to think
that he was brought up in ignorance and profaneness, and that he was
as destitute of religious knowledge as he was of moral honesty. He
was too much occupied with his trade to attend on the sermons, or
witness the miracles of Jesus; and his exclusion from all sober and
decent society must have prevented him from hearing of them by the
report of others. By what means, then, did he acquire the knowledge
of him ? In his prison he might hear of his arraignment and sentence ;
and after he knew that he was to be cracified along with him, curiosity
would induce him to inquire into the cause of his condemnation. This
might perhaps satisfy him that Jesus was no evil-doer — that he had
been guilty of no murder, or theft, or sedition, and that the envy of the
chief priests had delivered him up to Pilate ; and it is probable that
his companion also knew all this, and had the same conviction in his
breast, although he railed on him as an impostor. But it was at Gol¬
gotha, and when hanging on the accursed tree, that he acquired that
knowledge which issued in his conversion. And what were the means
of his instruction 1 None that I can discover or tell you of, my

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293

brethren, but what he was able to glean from the speeches of those
who were below, from the few words which Jesus had spoken, and
from the inscription on his cross. The first he had heard say, “ He saved
others;” and who can tell what light this saying might let into an
understanding opened by the Spirit of God ? He had also heard them
speak of him, although with incredulity, as “ the Christ, the King of
Israel, the Son of God, who trusted in God that he would deliver him.”
He had heard the remarkable and heart-melting prayer which Jesus
offered up for his murderers, when they were in the act of nailing him
to the tree, “ Father, forgive them ; for they know not what they do ;”
and he had a practical commentary on them in the meekness and
patience with which he “endured the cross, despising the shame.”
And he had an opportunity of reading the inscription which was
written over his head in legible characters, in Hebrew, Greek, and
Latin, “This is Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” This, my
brethren, was at once the text and the sermon by which the thief was
converted ; and, accordingly, the language of his address and prayer is
borrowed from it. He believed that he was “Jesus,” a Saviour. He
believed that he was a “ King and he believed that his cross was the
way to his crown, for it witnessed of it, and it pointed to it. And
believing this, and encouraged by it to put his trust in him, he said,
“ Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.” Think it
not strange, or at least think it not incredible, that the words of scorn
and derision spoken by an infatuated, infuriated mob should be made
the means of so much good to this man’s soul. They were truth, saving
truth, and contained the substance of the Gospel, and of what Jesus
had taught concerning himself. Think it not incredible, that the in¬
scription devised by an unbelieving and unjust judge should have been
the means of delivering a criminal, whom he had condemned to an
excruciating death, from a doom still more awful. It contained the
very truth which the person to whom it referred had testified when he
stood at the bar of Pilate, and it was devised and written at the secret
instigation of Him whose “ determinate counsel ” the Roman governor
executed in this as well as in other parts of this divinely-ordained
transaction. Many an excellent, savoury, and saving sermon has been
preached from the insidious saying of the arch-priest Caiaphas : “ It is
expedient that one man should die for the people, and that the whole
nation perish not.” And why, in that year, and on that day, which
was big with the eternal destinies of a world, to which all the jirophets
and holy men from the beginning had looked forward, and all holy men
to the end shall look back, — why, at such a time, should not a pagan
magistrate have been made to prophesy as well as a Jewish priest?
And why should not his prophecy have been the means of enlightening
the mind of a robber, and qualifying him for confessing the dying
Redeemer of sinners, both Jewish and Gentile ?

But, my brethren, we are to remember that it is one thing for us to

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SERMON V.

perceive the meaning of this inscription, possessing, as we do, the whole
New Testament, yea, the whole Bible, as a commentary on it, and
having leisure to compare the commentary with the text; and that
it was quite another thing for the thief, without any such helps, to
decipher its language and extricate its sense ; and that, too, while
he hung on the cross in a state of exquisite bodily pain. That he
should have been able to do this, and by what process of thought
he came to the conclusion which he drew, will continue always to be
matter of wonder — a monument of the inscrutable wisdom and amaz¬
ing grace of Him who works by whatever means it pleaseth him to
employ.

II. Consider the situation in which Jesus was placed when this man
addressed him in the words of the text.

During his personal ministry, the rays of his glory often pierced the
veil of his outward humiliation, so that those that saw its manifesta¬
tions had all their doubts dissipated, and were assured that he came
from God, and was the only begotten of the Father, fuU of grace and
truth. But this man became acquainted with him, and beheld him,
not at Jordan, where heaven pronounced him its Son; or at Cana of
Galilee, where he manifested forth his glory ; or by the lake of Tiberias,
where he fed the multitude ; or in Bethany, where he raised Lazarus ;
or in Tabor, where he was transfigured : but he beheld him for the first
time at Golgotha, where, instead of speaking as never man spake, he
was dumb as a sheep before her shearers, and, instead of doing mighty
works, was crucified through weakness. At this time his glory was
not merely under a cloud : it was in an eclipse, and seemed to have set
never to reappear. It was the hour and power of darkness. Formerly
he had been followed by multitudes, who crowded to him and thronged
him, and when he withdrew they followed him and sought him out with
great eagerness — the whole world was gone out after him, and they
talked of making him a king, so .that the chief priests became alarmed,
and his disciples, seeing matters in so prosperous-like a train, thought
it high time to look out for themselves, and to secure the most honour¬
able places in that kingdom which he was about to erect. But this
flattering prospect had evanished. The multitude wliich followed him
for a time had melted away gradually, until he was left alone with the
twelve ; and at last he was forsaken by them also. One of them
betrayed him, another abjured liim, and all the rest fled, and were
scattered ; and their unfaithful and cowardly desertion had affixed a
stigma on his pretensions, which all the malice and misrepresentation
of his open adversaries had not been able to inflict. When he was
arraigned before the high priest, hopes of his safety still remained ; for
the Romans retained the power of life and death in their own hands,
and Pilate was not only disposed to let him go, but laboured to accom¬
plish his release. Even after he was condemned to die, the case did not
appear desperate ; for those who had witnessed Ins miracles, and seen

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295

tlie band sent to apprehend him struck to the ground, merely by his
saying to them, “ I am he,” might flatter themselves that his enemies
would be unable to carry their sentence into execution. This last hope
had proved fallacious. He had suftered himself to be led as a lamb to
the slaughter. He was now aflixed to the tree, and was fast bleeding to
death. There he hung between two notorious malefactors, disowned by
all his former friends, insulted over by his enemies, heaven shut against
his prayer, hell gaping for him as its prey. It was in these circum¬
stances, when the cause of Jesus was in the most desperate-like condi¬
tion, that this man, openly and for the first time, professed his faith in him.

III. Consider the import of the profession contained in his address.

Had he merely professed his belief that Jesus was an innocent man —
that he had done nothing amiss or worthy of death, it would have
been a great deal. Had he avowed that he thought him no impostor,
but a true prophet, this would have been more than could have been
expected, considering the circumstances in which both were placed.
How hesitatingly and suspiciously did the two disciples, on the road to
Emmaus, express themselves on this subject : “ We trusted that it had
been he that should have redeemed Israel.” But this man went far
beyond this point in his profession. He addressed him as “ Lord.”
The chief priests and rulers of the Jews spoke of him in the most con¬
temptuous style — “this fellow” and “that deceiver.” When Peter was
challenged as one of his disciples, he said that he knew not “ the man.”
The highest epithet that the disciples could give him after they had
received a report of his resurrection was, “ Jesus of Nazareth, a
prophet mighty in word and deed.” The thief addresses him now by
that title which the apostles gave him after he had shown himself to
them by infallible proofs. They could say, “ the Lord is risen ; ” but
they could not, like this thief, call him Lord, when he hung on the cross.
Nor was this a mere title of respect. The cross was no place for com¬
plimentary or ceremonious language. In such circumstances, he would
not have owned him at all, if he had not been persuaded that he was
the Lord of all, of life and death, of heaven and hell. And as he
addressed him as Lord, so he avowed his conviction that he was going
to take possession of a kingdom. Wonderful faith ! A dying man, a
worm and no man, reproach of men and despised of the people, the
lowest of the people, he addresses as Lord, and worships him. One
whom he had seen arrayed in derision with the mock ensigns of royalty
and then stripped of them and led away to be crucified, whom he had
heard taunted with his kingly claims, and in vain desired to come down
from the cross to give a proof of their validity, he nevertheless saluted,
in deep earnest, as a king ; and while God had set up the right hand
of his adversaries, made all his enemies to rejoice, shortened the days
of his youth, covered him with shame, and profaned his crown by
casting it to the ground, he, strong in faith, staggered not, but, against
hope, beheved in hope, and avowed his confident assurance that he was

296

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about to ascend the throne of his kingdom. Verily, such faith as this
had not been evinced from the days of the father of the faithful.

And then how superior do his conceptions of the nature of Christ’s
kingdom appear to have been ! The J ews of that time had very gross
and carnal notions of the reign of Messiah. They imagined that he
would appear as a temporal and earthly monarch, emancipate them from
the thraldom of a foreign yoke, and make the nations tributary to them.
The disciples of Jesus had imbibed some of these prejudices, to which
they clung pertinaciously, in spite of all the instructions of their Master ;
nor were they altogether weaned from this erroneous and fond conceit
by his crucifixion, as appears from the question which they put to him
after he was risen, “ Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom to
Israel ? ” How superior were the views which the converted thief
acquired on this subject in a short time, to those of the disciples after
they had for years listened to the spiritual doctrine, and contemplated
the heavenly character of their Master. The prospect of his death was
repugnant to all their ideas, and destructive of all their expectations of
his kingly glory ; and when they saw him led away to be crucified, their
hopes died away within them. He owned him to be a king in the
lowest step of his abasement, and believed that his cross was the
pedestal by which he would mount to his throne in the highest heavens.

IV. Let us, in fine, consider this address as a prayer.

It was said of Saul of Tarsus, after his conversion, and as one mark
of that change which he had undergone, “ Behold he prayeth !” He had
never prayed aright before that period, though, as a strict Pharisee, he
had no doubt often practised the external form. But this was probably
the first time that ever the thief had engaged in the exercise — the first
time in his life that he had offered to God the sacrifice of the lips.
Prayer is not an employment reconcilable with the trade which he had
followed. It is necessary for such persons to banish the fear, and con¬
sequently to exclude the thought, of God. If that sacred name had
come into his mouth, it would be in the form of hellish oaths or
blasphemies. But now, behold he prayeth ! and that in deep earnest.
He prayed to Jesus, whom his fellow-criminal was blaspheming, invoked
him as Lord, and begged of him the greatest favour which, as a dying
man, he could ask. Criminals have often been seen praying on a
scaffold, and they have earnestly begged for a pardon, or a respite, or
some other boon from their judges ; but this is the only instance in
which a criminal was found supplicating and praying to his fellow-
sufferer. And what was the petition which he presented % It was
not for deliverance from death or for any temporal blessing. He
did not even seriously prefer the request of his comrade, “Save
thyself and us.” He was perfectly resigned to his fate. He was
willing to endure the punishment due to his crime by the laws of
God and man, and to expiate, by his own death, the offence which he

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had done to society, while he who hung beside him expiated the sin
which he had committed against heaven. “ Lord ! I have no desire
to live. It is good for me to be here. It is better for me to die
with thee than to reign with Caesar. All my desire is to be with thee
where thou art going ; and 0 remember thy unworthy fellow-sufferer
when thou art come into thy kingdom ! ” What unfeigned and contrite
humility does this petition breathe ! He prays as became one who felt
and had confessed himself to be a great sinner, and who could have no
possible claims but what were founded on the mere and unbought
benignity of him whom he addressed. When the two sons of Zebedee
requested to be permitted to sit, the one at the right and the other at
the left hand of their Master in his kingdom, he asked them, “ Can ye
drink of the cup that I drink of ? or can ye be baptised with the baptism
with which I am baptised 1 ” Here was one who was drinking of his
bitter cup, and baptised with his bloody baptism ; but he had no such
ambitious wish, and presumed to present no such arrogant request. His
heart was not haughty ; his eyes were not lofty ; neither did he aspire
to great things. A genuine convert, his heart was like that of a weaned
child. All that he ventured to ask was, that Jesus would remember
him when he came to his kingdom.

But though presented with the profoundest humility, and expressive
of the greatest submission, still this was a great request. 0 how much,
my brethren, is included in these two words, addressed by a convinced
sinner to the Saviour, “ Remember me ! ” The eternal salvation of a
sinner hangs upon them. If he remembers him, all is well ; if he forgets
him, woe unto him, for it shall be ill with him. Had not Christ remem¬
bered and thought upon us in our low estate, and undertaken our cause,
we would have been hopeless. Had he not remembered his people, and
borne their names on his breastplate, when he approached God as the
great high-priest to make reconciliation for iniquity, their gnilt would
have remained. Did he not remember them, when they are lying
polluted in their blood, and say to them, “ Live !” they would die in
their sins. Did he not continue to remember them, and pray for them,
and help them by his Spirit, he that desires to have them as his prey
would gain his object, and they would never see the kingdom of heaven.
Had the penitent thief dropped out of the memory of Christ he would
have dropped into hell at death, along with his blaspheming com¬
panion ; for “ nor thieves nor revilers shall inherit the kingdom of God.”
How could he, an ignorant, lawless. God-despising, heaven-daring pro¬
fligate, presume to lift up his eyes, or to apply at the gates of paradise,
unless he had ground to believe that his gracious and merciful fellow-
sufferer would remember him h But if he continued to think of him
and own him, what might he not expect ? In fine, this prayer was
offered believingly as well as fervently. He believed that Jesus had the
highest interest with the Father, who would not refuse anything which
should be craved by him who had laid down his life at his command ;

298

SERMON V.

that he was about to be put in possession of all power in heaven and
earth ; and that this included authority to bestow its honours and
rewards on whomsoever he would. And he believed that such was the
grace, condescension, and compassion of the dying Redeemer, that he
would not reject the application of a poor, convicted, condemned
criminal, but wash him from his sins in his blood, and sanctify him by
the power of his Spirit, and present him faultless before the throne of
his glory with exceeding joy. Nor did he believe in vain, nor was the
answer of his prayer long delayed or dubiously expressed ; for Jesus
instantly said to him, “Verily I say unto thee. To-day shalt thou be
with me in paradise.”

In reviewing this wonderful scene, a variety of reflections, all con¬
ducive to practical improvement, crowd upon the mind. Let us dwell
a little on a few of them.

First, We have here an indisputable instance of real conversion.
Examples of this change have occurred in every age, as to the genuine¬
ness of which we have no reasonable ground of doubt. But the case of
the penitent thief is accompanied with evidence the most irresistible
and convincing. Who can doubt that on the cross a sinner was con¬
verted from the evil of his ways, a soul saved from death, and a multi¬
tude of sins hid 1 When the Lord writeth up the people whom he hath
formed for himself, he will count that this man was born again on
Calvary. While I run over the credible marks of a saving change which
he exhibited, let it be your emplo3Tnent, my brethren, to examine and
see whether they are to be found in you also.

He confessed himself to be a sinner, and worthy of death, when no
creature exacted this confession, and when it co^d be of no earthly
advantage to him. His heart was penetrated with a reverential fear of
God, which made him not only refrain from ofi^ending him himself, but
shudder at hearing what was offensive to him from the lips of another.
He entertained just, and high, and honourable views of the Saviour. He
looked to him on the cross, and placed all liis hopes of salvation on liis
merciful remembrance of him. He prayed to him, and committed his
soul to him, as the Lord of the invisible world. He gave every evidence
which was in his power of the truth of his faith, repentance, and love.
His hands and feet were immovably fixed to the tree. Nothing was
left free to him but his heart and his tongue, and these he dedicated
wholly to God, and employed to the honour of Christ. His conduct
corresponded to the inspired criterion, and verified it ; “ With the heart
man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is
made unto salvation.” He not only deplored his own sin, but he also
faithfully, yet meekly, reproved the sin of his companion and of the
multitude which surrounded him, and used aU the means which were in
his power to arrest their ungodly career, and to bring them to repent¬
ance. He was clothed with hiunility. His affections were set on
things above, and not on things on the earth. His conversation was in

THE PRAYER OF THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

299

heaven. No corrupt communication proceeded from his mouth, but
that which was good to the use of edifying. Ail bitterness, and wrath,
and anger, and clamour, and evil-speaking he put away from him, with
all malice ; he was kind, tender-hearted, forgiving ; and was not this a
proof that God, for Christ’s sake, had forgiven him 2 Who imagines
that if tliis man had been let down from the cross, he would have
returned to his old companions and his old practices 2 Who doubts that
he that stole wmuld have stolen no more, but have wrought with his
hands that he might give to him that needeth ; that he would have
been a bright and living example of renovation ; that he would have
joined himself to the apostles, and continued steadfastly in their doc-
trme and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayer 2 Would
to God that all that hear me this day were both almost and altogether
such as this malefactor was, except the nails by which he was affixed to
the tree !

Secondly, We have here a distinguished proof of the power of divine
grace. Speaking of what he had been, and contrasting it with what he
had become. Paid exclaims, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ was
exceeding abundant !” We cannot think of the conversion of this man
without making the same reflection. He had been a great sinner, an
ignorant, profane, ungodly, lawless, hardened ruffian. But 0 ! how
changed from what he was ! — so much so, that his former associates,
who had known him most intimately, could not now know him to be
the same person. He is, indeed, become a new man, a new creature ;
“ old things are passed away ; behold, all things are become new.” The
lion, who had gone about seeking whom he might devour, is changed
into the lamb ; the blasphemer into a preacher of righteousness ; the
robber into a reprover of vice. And how sudden the transformation !
He came to the cross with all the evil passions rankling in his breast,
and he had scarcely been affixed to it, when their poison was plucked
out, and they gave place to mildness, gentleness, and compassion for
the suflerings of others ; he came to it with his mouth fllled with curs¬
ing and bitterness, and when upon it, we find him employed only in
praying and exliorting ; he was lifted up on the cross polluted with the
blood of others, he was taken down from it washed from his sins in the
blood of Christ ; he was suspended as a malefactor, and he died as a
martyr. What can withstand or resist the power of the grace which
produced such a change as this 2 What is too hard, what can be difficult
for it 2 It can pardon the greatest sins, subdue the strongest corrup¬
tions, eradicate the most deep-rooted prejudices, cure the most inve¬
terate habits ; in a word, change the most desperately wicked heart.

Thirdly, Contemplate in this scene an instance of late conversion.
It was the last hour with this malefactor. His days were numbered,
and the last of them had dawned on him in as hopeless a condition as
ever, — with all his sins upon him, unrepented of, and unpardoned, with¬
out the smallest preparation for appearing before his righteous and im-

300

SERMON V.

partial Judge. He was brought out of his cell, he was led away to be
crucified, he was lifted up upon the cross, he hung over the yawning
pit which was ready to receive him, when the Saviour, who was at
his right hand, had compassion on him, apprehended him by his grace,
and plucked him as a brand from the fire. Miraculous escape ! Won-
’ derful intervention ! Ineffable expression of the patience and mercy of
him who is God and not man ! In one and the same day this man was
in the gall of bitterness and in the delights of paradise, associated with
felons and admitted into the society of angels, in concord with Belial
and in fellowship with Christ. This singular fact is recorded in Scrip¬
ture, and we know that whatever was written aforetime was written
for our learning. It teaches us by example what our Saviour taught
by parable, that persons may be called into God’s vineyard at the last
hoiir, and that he will bestow upon them the gift of eternal life through
Christ Jesus, as well as upon those who have borne the burden and
heat of the day. And shall their eye be evil because he is good ? Or,
shall we be ashamed or afraid to produce this example, and to point to
the encouragement which it holds out, because some will speak evil of
the good ways of God, or others will abuse his tender mercy to their
own perdition 1, No ; while there is life there is hope— while sinners are
on God’s footstool, they may look up to the throne of his grace. He
waits to be gracious ; his long-suffering is salvation. This message we
are warranted to carry into the cell of the convict — to the bedside
of the dying profligate— and to proclaim it in public to persons of all
ages. The most hoary-headed sinner in this assembly may find mercy
of the Lord. Though thou hast provoked God, and grieved him for
forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, fourscore years, yet to-day, after so long a
time — to-day, if thou wilt hear his voice, and not harden thy heart, thou
shalt enter into his rest, and be received into his glory. You need not
say, who shall ascend to heaven to bring Christ down ? He who was
near to the thief on the cross, is near to you in the preaching of the
cross. 0 then delay not to improve the precious season which will not
last long, which passeth away, and will soon come to a close ; look to
him, believe on him, cry to him, confessing your sins, “ Lord, remember
me, now when thou art come into thy kingdom.” Look on him whom
you have pierced by your iniquities, until your hearts are smitten with
the sight, and you are made to mourn as for an only son, and to be in
bitterness as for a first-born ; and he will heal you by the virtue of his
stripes, and by the sovereign efficacy of his free Spirit.

But this example, while it invites to repentance, gives no encourage¬
ment to presumption. It has been justly remarked, that one instance
of conversion at the latest period of life, has been recorded in the Bible,
that none may despair ; and but one instance, that none may presume,
or delay this important work to the last. Not to insist on the singu¬
larity of this man’s situation, and the propriety of the Redeemer dis¬
playing the power of his grace, and the virtue of his blood, when hang-

THE PRAYER OF THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

301

ing on the cross, by a signal and extraordinary act of mercy, the his¬
tory of the converted malefactor affords not a shadow of encouragement
or excuse to those who resist the calls of the Gospel and procrastinate
repentance ; for he had not enjoyed these calls, nor is there any good
reason for thinking that he ever heard or saw the Saviour before. It
is sinful to limit the Holy One, and to despair of his mercy and ability
to save in the most extreme case ; but it is awfully sinful, it is a fearful
tempting and provoking of the Most High, to delay repentance in the
hope of finding mercy at a future period. When put into plain lan¬
guage, it just amounts to this, “ I will continue in sin because the grace
of God abounds : I will go on to disobey him, and rebel against him,
and affront him, in the confidence that he will pardon me whenever I
shall be pleased to turn to him, and that he will receive me when I am
weary of sinning, and can no longer find pleasure in it.” If this is not
to “ sin wilfully after having received the knowledge of the truth,” — if
it is not to “ sin the sin unto death,” it is something very like it. What
can such persons expect but that God will pronounce against them his
fearful oath of exclusion, cease to strive with them any longer by his
Spirit, say to the ministers of his word and of his providence, “ Let
them alone,” and give them up to the uncontrolled operation of their
own corruptions, increased and aggravated by indulgence, and by the
influence of the god of this world 1 How know you that you shall have
time for repentance 1 You may be struck dead in a single moment, in
the very act of sinning with a high hand. Or you may be struck motion¬
less and senseless, without a tongue to confess your sins or your faith
in the Saviour,— without an eye to read the record of salvation — with¬
out an ear to hear its gladdening sounds from preacher or friend—
without a memory to recollect what you have heard or known of it.
Although time for reflection should be granted you, and though the
gate of mercy should stand open before you, yet your soul may be so
filled with darkness, and unbelief, and remorse, that you cannot per¬
ceive the way of escape, and may die, like Judas, in despair. Though
quaintly expressed, there is much truth in the saying, “ True repentance
is never too late, but late repentance is seldom true.” How many in¬
stances are there of “ repentance ” in sickness, and in the prospect of
death, being “ repented of.” Judicious persons, who have had occasion
to deal with the irreligious in such circumstances, have a saddening
report to make of the result of their experience. How many of them
have died as they lived, ignorant, insensible, hardened ! Of those who
survived, and were delivered from the terrors of death, how many “ re¬
turned, like the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire !”
And among those who died with the accents of penitence on their lips,
of how few can they speak but in the language of trembling hope t
We often hear of the contrition of condemned malefactors, and it is not
uncommon to represent them as having exhibited decided marks of con¬
version in their cells and on the scaffold ; but there is reason to think

302

SERMON V.

that credulity is mingled with charity in these reports. Charity should
dispose us to form the most favourable hopes of individuals ; but when
we speak on this subject, and especially when we make our sentiments
public, we shoidd recollect that charity for the dead may be cruelty to
the living. If such persons were to be pardoned and restored to life,
we may judge what would be the result with multitudes of them, from
what we see in the case of those who have been recovered from a
dangerous sickness. How rarely do we meet, in such cases, with the
unequivocal proofs of sincere repentance which were evinced in the
crucified malefactor !

Fourthly, See here a striking example of the different effects pro¬
duced by the preaching of Christ crucified. To the one malefactor the
cross was the savour of life unto life, to the other it was the savour of
death unto death ; to the former it was the power of God mito salva¬
tion, to the latter it was a stumblingblock ; it softened the heart of the
former, it hardened the heart of the latter ; it prepared the one for
heaven, it rendered the other twofold more a child of hell. Here we
perceive the exceeding riches of sovereign grace, and the desperate de¬
pravity of the human heart, when left to its native operation. 0 the
blindness, the infatuation, the obduracy of this imi^enitent malefactor,
whom neither the reproofs and contrition of his companion, nor the
meekness and patience of Jesus, nor the acts of grace and clemency
which he witnessed, could soften ! He saw the rich treasures of grace
opened ; he heard the humble petition of his comrade ; he heard the
gracious return made to it, granting him more than he had ventured to
ask ; he was a witness to the kingdom of heaven being bestowed on a
fellow-convict, — and yet he remained proud and impenitent, and would
not bend his mind to ask what he might have freely received. Yet this
is no strange or uncommon thing ; it is every day verified in multitudes
who enjoy the Gospel.

Fifthly, How mysterious and manifold the ways by which God imparts
the knowledge of his mind to men — makes those that are blind to see, and
those that see to be blind ! He opened the eyes of an eastern astrologer
to behold afar off “ the Star that should come out of Jacob, and the
Sceptre that should rise out of Israel and when, blinded by “the wages
of unrighteousness,” he rushed on obstinately in the path of wilful dis¬
obedience, disregarding the messenger of death who opposed him, the
mouth of the dumb ass was opened to rebuke the madness of the prophet.
When “ the scornful men ” who ruled the people of Jerusalem rejected
“ him who came in the name of the Lord to save them,” shut their eyes
against the light of his heavenly doctrine and of his divine works, blas¬
phemed both the one and the other, and persecuted their Author to the
death, a heathen ruler was made to confess his innocence, and to pre¬
dict the glory of his kingdom ; and although he meant not so, but it
was in his heart to mortify those who yielded him a feigned and re¬
luctant obedience, and had urged him on to an act against which his

THE PKAYER OF THE THIEF ON THE CROSS.

303

conscience remonstrated, yet Providence overruled his designs and ac¬
tions to the accomplishment of its own purposes ; and in consequence
of this, the inscription which he had ordered to be affixed on the cross,
and which he refused to recall or to modify, became the instrament of
savingly enlightening an ignorant malefactor, and enabling him to
silence and still the increasing tumult of those who maliciously or
ignorantly reviled the Holy One and the Just. 0 the depth of the
riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God !

Sixthly, What a small portion of truth will be of saving benefit to a
person when accompanied by the blessing of the divine Spirit ! Who
teacheth like God ! When the vision of all is to be learned as a
sealed book, and the eyes of the prophets and their rulers and seers are
covered, he can unveil its mysteries to the most ignorant and unini¬
tiated. By means of a few words he can make the outcasts of society
wise to salvation, while those who despised and cursed them have
“ precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little and there a little,”
and yet all the effect is that they “ fall backwards, and are broken, and
snared, and taken.” What slender means will prove successful when
God puts his hand to the work ! What a small portion of truth will
irradiate the mind of a sinner, and dispel its darkness, when the Spirit
of God makes way for it, and accompanies it home with his secret and
irresistible influence ! At the beginning he had only to say, “ Let there
be light, and there was light ;” and a single word will call a sinner
from darkness into marvellous light. “ Before that Philip called thee,
when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee,” said Jesus to Nathanael,
who instantly replied, “ Rabbi, thou art the Son of God ; thou art the
King of Israel !” a reply which drew an expression of surprise from
Jesus. The effect of electricity is not more instantaneous. “ Thou hast
had five husbands ; and he whom thou now hast is not thine husband,”
said the same divine Preacher to the Samaritan woman ; and what was
her report to her townsmen of the effect produced by this saying ?
“ Come, see a man that told me all things that ever I did !” Who can
calculate the extent of the wonderful discoveries which the smallest
portion of divine truth entering into the soul will produce ? Let in the
light of day by the smallest chink into a dark room or cellar, and you
Avill see ten thousand motes floating and dancing in the circling wave
of its beams. Every portion of truth is a ray from the Sun of Righteous¬
ness, and his rays, like those of the natural sun, are divisible to an in¬
conceivable degree, and every the minutest particle possesses the essen¬
tial properties of the luminary from which it emanates, and accordingly
is capable of enlightening, quickening, cheering, invigorating, and mak¬
ing fruitful in every good work. All things that are reprovable are
made manifest by the light, for whatsoever doth make manifest is light.
No doubt, where the word of truth is clearly revealed, and where it is
faithfully preached and unfolded according to the ordinance of Heaven,
free from any mixture of error or of human inventions, we have reason

304

SERMON V.

to expect that the most extensive good will he done. But we must not
limit the Spirit of truth, who hath wrought hitherto, and doth work,
and will work, sovereignly as he willeth. When persons are placed in
unfavourable circumstances, we know not what small means may pro¬
duce saving effects. Though we are commanded to “ cease from the
instruction which causeth to err from the words of knowledge,” and are
not to receive into our houses, or bid God-speed to the teachers of
“ another Gospel,” yet the Spirit of God, who is present where we can¬
not be with safety or without sin, may bless (and we doubt not he has
blessed) such portions of divine truth as proceed from erroneous teachers
to the conversion or sanctification of his chosen. Yea, words spoken
without any serious or fixed design, perhaps thrown out in the way of
scoffing and derision, may fall into the conscience and heart of a sinner,
take root there, and bring forth fruit unto life eternal ; and when this
is at any time verified, both the word and the power by which it is
made effectual, appear the more evidently to be of God.

305

SERMON VI.

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

“ My Lord, and my God.” — John, xx. 28.

The Sun of Righteousness rose, like the natural sun, early but slowly,
gradually scattering the darkness and the clouds. First the grave of
Christ was seen to be open ; then it was seen to be empty ; and then
the grave-clothes were found lying, carefully wrapt up, denoting that
the illustrious prisoner had neither been taken away by violence, nor
gone out hastily or by flight. First, an angel announced his resurrec¬
tion, and then he showed himself alive. First he appeared to one of
his disciples, next to two of them, and lastly to them all. In this
chapter we have an account of the first appearance which he made to
his disciples collectively. They had already received a message from
him by Mary Magdalene ; one of their number had also seen him ; but
still they doubted. Now, he not only appeared in the midst of them,
and spoke to them, but he showed them his hands and his side, the
former bearing the mark of the nails by which he had been fixed to the
cross, and the latter the scar of the spear by wliich he was pierced.
And now all the doubts of those present were dissipated. “ Then were
the disciples glad when they saw the Lord.”

But one of their number, Thomas, called in the Greek Didymus, was
absent during this interview. On his arrival, his brethren informed
him that they had seen the Lord. One would have thought that the
concurring testimony of so many would have commanded his belief.
But he remained incredulous ; and expressed his unbelief in very strong
terms : “ Except I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put
my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side,
I will not believe.” Next Lord’s day, the disciples being assembled,
and Thomas with them, J esus appeared in the midst of them, and hav¬
ing saluted them, desired the faithless apostle to take the satisfaction
which he had required. “ Reach hither thy finger, and behold my
hands ; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side ; and be
not faithless, but believing.” This was irresistible ; and Thomas cried
out in a transport, “ My Lord, and my God !”

The great secret, my brethren, of profiting by ordinances, is to wait
on them in the faith of Christ’s spiritual presence in them, according to

306

SERMON VI.

his promise, “ Lo, I am with you alway !” And our assembling together
at this time will be for the better and not for the worse, if the words
read shall be blessed for correcting our unbelief and strengthening our
faith. Let us then, in dependence on the Spirit who testifies of Christ,

I. Make a few observations from the text in its connection.

II. Open up the import of the exclamation.

1. — 1. The text in its connection leads me to observe, that our Lord
Jesus put peculiar honour on the first day of the week. On that day
he rose from the dead ; and by that very act it was distinguished from
all the other days. As God rested from all his works in creation on the
seventh, so did Christ rest from his works in redemption, and declare
them complete, by rising from the grave on the first day. On this day
he appeared to the women, to Peter, to the two disciples travelling to
Emmaus, and to the ten apostles. The evangelist is very particidar in
naming the day ; for though it had been mentioned before, he does not
satisfy himself with saying, “ Now the same day in the evening,” but
adds, “ being the first day of the week.” On the ensuing first day he
renewed his visit. And it was on the same day of the week that the
Spirit descended on the apostles. These acts were sufiicient to dedicate
that portion of time to a sacred use ; for divine authority having already
set apart one day in seven, there was no necessity for such an express
appointment in transferring the Sabbath from one day of the week to
another. The analogy between the works of creation and redemption,
as recognised in Scripture — the reason of the thing, the example of
Christ and his apostles, and the name given to that day by the Spirit
of God — constitute an ample warrant for our faith in keeping it holy to
the Lord, as the Christian Sabbath, and for our expecting his spiritual
presence on it. There is no superstition in looking for a special blessing
on the first day of the week. There is a hallowing influence in the
thought, “ This is the Lord’s Day “ This is the day which the Lord
hath made ; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Save now, I beseech
thee, 0 Lord ! I beseech thee, send now prosperity.” The highest
attainment on this side heaven is to be “ in the spirit on the Lord’s
day.”

2. It is good to be found in the meetings of the disciples of Christ,
especially on his own day. It was when the disciples were assembled
that Jesus came and stood in the midst of them, and said, “Peace be
unto you,” and, breathing on them, said, “ Receive ye the Holy Ghost.”
In like manner, on the day of Pentecost, “ they were all with one ac¬
cord in one place,” and were all filled with the Holy Spirit. In conse¬
quence of Thomas being absent when his brethren convened on the first
Lord’s day, he missed a meeting with Christ, and remained in a state of
painful suspense, or rather positive unbelief, so far as the great fact of
the resurrection was concerned. And it was not until he was found with

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

307

his bretliren on the follo'vving Sabbath that he obtained relief and a cure.
The fearers of the Lord have always felt a desire after, and a delight in,
public ordinances. The Lord loved the gates of Zion more than all the
dwellings of Jacob; and accordingly “thither the tribes went up to
Israel’s testimony, to give thanks to the name of the Lord.” And a
special promise is attached to Christian assemblies, however small :
“ Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in
the midst of them. ” Every true worshipper has the promise of Clirist’s
presence ; but “ two are better than one, and a threefold cord is not
easily broken. ” If a number of persons should be invited to an enter¬
tainment by a great man, though he should not make his appearance
at the time of their assembling, yet, on comparing their cards of invita¬
tion, they would be confirmed in their expectation of seeing him. We
do not know what a loss we sustain by carelessly or unnecessarily ab¬
senting ourselves from public ordinances, even for a single diet. Per¬
haps Thomas was with his brethren in the forenoon, but he was absent
in the afternoon of the day when the Lord came among them.

3. Remark, again, that however genuine the experience of others may
be, and whatever advantages may be derived from their report of what
they have seen and felt, yet these will not supply the room of personal
observation and experience. The disciples no doubt acquainted their ab¬
sent brother with all that they had seen and heard — what Jesus said to
them, and what he showed them — but it produced no effect. One glance
of an object, or a slight tasting of it, will give us more satisfactory ac¬
quaintance with it than the most minute and lengthened description.
“ 0 taste and see that God is good.” The greatest prejudices have some¬
times fled at the hearing of a single sermon — a single sentence. “ Can
there any good thing come out of Nazareth ? ” said Nathanael. “ Philip
saith unto him, Come and see.” Jesus had only to say, “When thou
wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee. ” — “ Rabbi ! thou art the Son of God ;
thou art the King of Israel ! ” “ Come,” said the woman of Samaria,
“ see a man which told me all things that ever I did : is not this the
Christ?” — “Now,” said her countrymen, “we believe, not because of
thy saying ; for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is
indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world. ” Reported sermons, and
notes of sermons, are generally insipid ; like dry crusts, they would re¬
quire a keen appetite. We may recollect the words, but perhaps the
feeling with which we heard them is gone, or greatly abated. “ Did not
our heart burn within us while he talked with us by the way, and while
he opened to us the Scriptures 1 ” It is easy to repeat words ; not so
easy to impart feelings.

4. Let us observe that unbelief is very unreasonable and extravagant
in its demands. How strikingly do we see this exemplified in the
conduct of this disciple ! He had a sufficiency of evidence already in
the testimony of his brethren, whom he knew to be honest men, well
acquainted with their Master, and not more prepossessed with the

308

SERMON VI.

hope of seeing him alive again than he himself was. And then he was
not called to rest his faith on the wisdom of men, but on the power of
God ; for the resurrection of Christ on the third day had been testified
beforehand by the prophets and by Jesus himself. If not contented
with this testimony, one would have thought that all he required would
have been to see his Master with his own eyes, and talk with him. But
no, this would not satisfy him. Well, suppose thou shouldst see the
print of the nails on his hands, will that do 1 No ; “ I must put my
finger into them. ” Is that all 1 No ; “ I must thrust my hand into his
side, else I will not believe. ” Never, sure, was there anything so near
to total and wilful unbelief as this ! And had it pleased Infinite Wisdom
that these memorials of humiliation should have been laid aside — had
the Saviour not chosen to bear the marks of the nails and the spear on
his resurrection body, where, Thomas, would have been thy faith, and
where thy salvation 1 Here, as in a mirror, you may see the unreason¬
ableness of infidelity in every age. Its demands increase as they are an¬
swered ; its objections resemble the heads of the fabled monster, which
were no sooner cut off than others, as hideous as the former, rose in
their place. What a salvation did God work at the Red Sea ! But they
no sooner wanted water, than they murmured. Behold, he clave the
rock, and the waters gushed out ; “ but can he give bread also 1 can he
provide flesh for his people ? — “ If the Lord would make windows in
heaven, might this thing be ? ”• — “ What sign showest thou, that we
may see and believe thee ? ”■ — ■“ If he be the King of Israel, let him come
down from the cross, and we will believe him. ” 0 ! how like is the
language of the friends of Christ sometimes to that of his enemies !
How stumbling to weak disciples ! how hardening to the ungodly !

5. Observe that the Saviour is very condescending, as well as forgiv¬
ing, in curing unbelief. It was prophesied of him, “ The bruised reed
he will not break, and the smoking flax he will not quench and often
did he verify this part of his character in his treatment of the weak and
dejected. But here is a case which does not seem to come under that
rule. Here is a proud, conceited, obstinate disciple, who thinks him¬
self strong, and despises his brethren as silly and credulous men. But
the strength of men is weakness in the sight of God, and our Lord pitied
him in his fancied elevation. He knew how to mortify his pride by
curing his unbelief. He had much to forgive all his disciples. They
had forsaken him in the hour of his trial ; they had forgotten the words
that he had spoken unto them while he was yet with them. And how
does he resent this ? He puts them to shame by kindness and condescen¬
sion — by doubling his favours to them. While they continued with him
in his temptations, he only called them “ friends ; ” but now “ he is not
ashamed to call them brethren.” “Go to my brethren, and say, I
ascend unto my Father and your Father. ” But the grace of our Lord
was conspicuous in the case of Thomas. Great spirits will not be
dictated to by their inferiors ; but Christ accommodates himself to the

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

309

foolish fancy and wayward humour of this disciple ; suffers himself to be
prescribed to ; grants the demand made on him in all its extent ; bares
his wounds, and exposes them to be raked and roughly handled, to heal
an inveterate and morbid incredulity. “ This is not the manner of man,
0 Lord ! ” And so it was felt by the humbled and convicted disciple,
when he exclaimed, “My Lord, and my God !”

6. Observe finally, that there is sometimes a very sudden change
eftected in the minds and exercise of en-ing and undutiful Christians.
Sometimes it is gradual. While they are musing or listening to the
word of God, the fire begins to bum, and gradually increases until it
bursts into a flame which cannot be contained, as in the case of the dis¬
ciples on the road to Emmaus. At other times it breaks forth all at once,
as in the case of Thomas. In a moment all his doubts had fled, and
the triumph of faith was proclaimed in the exclamation which he
uttered, “ My Lord, and my God ! ”

II. Let us open up the import of the exclamation. And in doing so,
it is not enough to consider the import of the words ; we ought to enter
into the feelings of the speaker, and thus to make them our own, and, as
it were, fight our torch at his flame. It was not any single sentiment
or feeling, such as faith, or love, or joy, which actuated the apostle at
this moment ; but a mixed emotion, in which various feelings were
blended together, and heightened each other. Let us analyse the
complex emotion.

1. The exclamation is expressive of the fullest and most satisfying
persuasion. Thomas is no longer faithless, but believing. He is now
fully persuaded of what he formerly doubted and disbelieved. Con¬
viction has fiashed on his mind. The evidence is irresistible and over¬
whelming. Not the shadow of a doubt remains. “ It is the Lord him¬
self, and not another. This is no spectre or phantom — there is no
imposition or illusion here.” All his brethren could not formerly per¬
suade Thomas that his Master was risen ; but the whole world could
not now have persuaded him that he was in his grave.

And thus it is when the Spirit of Christ opens the understandings of
men to understand the Scriptures, which then bring their own evidence
along with them, and produce a clear, lively, and unhesitating convic¬
tion of their truth, and of the certainty of the things contained in them.
Those who formerly disbelieved or stood in doubt, cry out, “Now we
believe — we believe and are sure.” They cavil no more, they contra¬
dict no more, they inquire no more. They acquiesce in and set their
seal to what God reveals, are so satisfied of its truth that they can
venture their all, for time and eternity, upon it ; and although their
knowledge may be but slender and imperfect compared with that of
others, yet their faith is strong and adhesive, like that of the female
martyr, who said, “ I cannot dispute for Christ, but I can die for him.”
And this persuasion is most satisfying to the soul. A state of unbelief

310

SERMON VI.

is to all, but especially to the Christian who has once tasted the peace
of believing, a state of bondage and oppression. To be in suspense is
to be in pain ; to be in suspense as to anything on which our happiness
depends, is to be in agony. When once persuaded, the believer feels as
if a millstone had been lifted off his heart. He breathes freely, he
speaks boldly. “ I believed, therefore have I spoken : I was greatly
afflicted.” “We that have believed, do enter into rest.”

2. It is expressive of ingenuous shame and deep contrition. Thomas
was convinced that he had been “ faithless,” and this was now no trivial
or excusable thing in liis eye. The same word, and the same symbols
which conveyed the evidence of the resurrection and presence of his
Master to his understanding, carried a sharp rebuke to his heart. “ Fool
that I was, and slow of heart to believe ! How many proofs had I of his
power — of his divinity ! Did he not rebuke my unbelief at the grave
of Lazarus ? Having seen him raise others, why should it have
appeared a thing incredible that he should rise himself? Did I not
hear him say, ‘ The Son of man must be killed, and rise on the third
day ? I have power to lay down my life, and I have power to take it
again.’ I have erred, not knowing the Scriptures nor the power of
God.” This was exercise pleasing to Christ, and which he took care to
excite and to cherish, by upbraiding him because of his unbelief, in the
mortifying but salutary language, “ Thomas, because thou hast seen
me, thou hast believed ; blessed are they that have not seen, and yet
have believed ! ”

There is the closest connection between the exercises of Christian
belief and godly sorrow. No sooner is the eye of faith opened and
fixed upon a pierced Kedeemer, than it is to be seen glistening with the
tear of repentance. The Spirit reproves the world of sin, because they
believe not on Christ. Though there were nothing which a believer had
to acknowledge but his unbelief, it would be sufficient to cover him
with the blush of confusion. If you never felt shame and compunction
for your former unbelief, you have reason to fear you have not yet
believed. The weU-affected believer feels at resisting the lowest evidence
of the truth ; — not only at making God a liar, but at giving the lie to
his fellow-creatures. “ I said in my haste. All men are liars.” Instead
of pleading ignorance as an excuse, looking upon error as innocent,
or pronouncing unbelief involuntary, he is ready to acknowledge that
his ignorance, and error, and unbelief, proceeded from the depravity of
his heart, creating prejudices against the truth, or making him careless
and indifterent about it ; — from his pride, presumption, earthliness,
selfishness, sluggishness, — from his forgetfulness of, and aversion to
divine things, and enmity to the character of God, as exhibited both in
the Law and in the Gospel. A recovered believer is at once confounded
and humbled in looking back on his criminal and inexcusable behaviour
— and even on his doubts, his perplexities, his ignorant mistakes, and
hasty misconstructions of the word and works of God. “So foolish was

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

311

I and ignorant ; I was as a beast before thee.” “ Surely I am more
brutish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man. I
neither learned wisdom, nor have the knowledge of the holy.”

3. It is expressive of clear and enlarged views of the character of
Christ. It is erroneous to say, as some have said, that the disciples of
Christ, during his personal ministry, did not believe his divinity.
There is abundant proof to the contrary. “ The Word was made flesh,
and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only
begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.” “He manifested forth
his glory, and his disciples believed on liim.” He taught them that
he and his Father are one, and that he who had seen him had seen
the Father ; and to the disciple speaking in our text, he said, “ If ye
had known me, ye should have known my Father also; and henceforth
ye know him, andthave seen him.” “ Thou,” said Peter in the name of
the rest, “ art the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

Their knowledge of this, however, as well as other truths, was then
less clear, and was sometimes overclouded. The veil of his humilia¬
tion and sufferings hid the splendour of his deity, and rendered it
difficult for them to apprehend it distinctly and steadily. But he was
declared to be the Son of God with power by the resurrection from the
dead. He rose as the sun emerges from a dark cloud, or rather a
fearful eclipse, and in his own light they saw him clearly to be “ the
Word, which was from the beginning, which was with God, and which
was God.” Accordingly, Thomas not only recognised him as his Lord
or Master, but as his divine Master — “ My Lord and my God ! ”

Faith is knowledge, and all true and saving knowledge of Jesus
Christ is gained by believing the testimony of God. But faith may be
increased, both intensively and extensively. There is not only a deep
or firm conviction of what was hesitatingly believed, but there is
also a more enlarged view of the objects believed. This last is com¬
monly called Christian knowledge, and we are exhorted to add it to
faith. “ I know whom I have believed.” Besides “ the full assurance
of faith,” there is what the apostle calls “ the full assurance of under¬
standing.” When a Christian has his faith restored and reinvigorated,
it is commonly accompanied with an enlargement of his knowledge.
The very proofs which are necessary to restore our confidence in a
friend, after we have suffered it to be shaken, furnish us with new and
additional information of his character. We know him better than
ever. When Christ stretched out his hands, and bared his side to the
view of his disciples, he shed a flood of light as to his real character
upon the opened mind of Thomas. “What is this? This is none
other but the grace, the condescension, and kindness of God ! ” — “ My
God!”

4. It is expressive of warm affection. The appellations are endear¬
ing and tender. Not like, “ Lord, is it I ? ” or that of Thomas on a
former occasion, “ Lord, we know not whither thou goest ; and how

312

SERMON VI,

can we know the way?” That was like a cold, though respectful
address to a stranger or wayfaring man. Some have supposed from
the language of Thomas about the death of Lazarus, and during our
Lord’s valedictory discourse, that he was “a man of rough, morose
temper, and apt to speak peevishly.” I should rather be inclined to
think that he was naturally of a warm, affectionate disposition, and
open withal, though somewhat suspicious and fearful. There was love
to Christ in the heart of this disciple during his most gloomy and
sullen mood of incredulity ; and though it may appear paradoxical, it
is true that, if he had loved Jesus less, he would not have been so
incredulous as to his resurrection, or at least would not have expressed
his feeling so strongly. The common proverb indeed says, “ What we
wish, we easily believe.” But a wish is one thing, and a desire is
another. The objects of vulgar credulity are generally matters which
engage the fancy rather than the heart. When, however, we have lost
any object on which our affections are much set, and in which our
happiness is bound up, it is not so easy to believe its restoration. Wlien
the patriarch’s sons returned and told him, “Joseph is yet alive, and
he is governor over all the land of Egypt,” “Jacob’s heart fainted, for
he believed them not.” He thought it too good news to be true.
Similar to this was Thomas’s state of mind. “ Do not mock me, my
brethren. Ask me not to believe it ; I would not believe my own eyes ;
for I would be afraid that my heart had misled them.” And this
suggests a difference between the infidelity of unrenewed persons, and
the fits of incredulity into which genuine Christians fall. The former
may be traced to hatred against the truth, or settled indifference to
it ; the latter are consistent with love to the truth, which may be
discerned through the doubts and objections of a saint, as the sun
may be discerned through a cloud. As there was a great difference
between Peter’s denying, and Judas’s betraying of his Master, so
between the behaviour of Thomas in disbelieving the resurrection of
Christ, and the conduct of the Jews who contradicted and blasphemed.
I say not this to excuse unbelief or even doubting in any. There is
always culpable ignorance and weakness in such exercise ; and there
is sometimes not a little pride and obstinacy. “ Be not faithless, but
believing.”

Though there may be love, genuine love to Christ, where there is
partial unbelief and darkness and fear, yet these feelings have always a
tendency to weaken its influence. Love exists ; but it exists, not by
them, but in spite of them. It exists like fire under ashes, and when
they are blown away, it manifests itself, kindles, and blazes forth.
What is altogether unknown or descredited cannot excite our love, and
what is indistinctly perceived, and imperfectly believed, will excite it
but feebly.

There is much selfishness in our regret for departed friends, and our
felt loss makes our love to them appear greater to our minds than it

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

313

really is. But wlien a lost friend is restored, and we again embrace liim,
our selfishness as well as our regret is swallowed up in the overflowings of
disinterested affection. There was something in the feelings of Thomas
at this moment resembling the love of the blessed in heaven, which
alone can fully answer the description of the beloved disciple. “ There
is no fear in love ; for perfect love casteth out fear, because fear hath
torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”

“ Faith worketh by love.” There are, too, in the manifestations by
which the Christian is recovered from his incredulity, such proofs, on
the part of the Redeemer, of goodness, faithfulness, forbearance, forgive¬
ness, condescension, and tender compassion, as cannot fail to melt the
heart and add gratitude to affection. “ My Lord, and my God, how
much hast thou done and suffered for me, since we last parted, ingrate
and faithless that I am ! What are these wounds in thy hands ? Ah !
those with which thou wast wounded in the house of thy friends —
wounded 7ne / This is thy body, broken for me. By thy stripes I
am healed.” Thus Thomas loved much, because he was forgiven much.

5. It is expressive of heartfelt joy. “Then were the disciples glad,
when they saw the Lord.” And what had hindered our disciple from
sympathising with them, and sharing of their pleasurable emotions ?
Nothing but his unbelief. They had all reason for joy when they saw
him again. The report of his resurrection was like a new gospel to
them — glad tidings of great joy. The doctrine of his decease was
transfigured before them ! AVhat they could not formerly bear to think
of, was now all their salvation, all their desire, and all their gloriation.
“ God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus
Clirist.” The offence of the cross has ceased, and been changed into
attraction. “ He was delivered for our offences, and he has been raised
again for our justification.” The height to which our joy rises upon
any reverse, is in proportion to the depth of our previous grief and
dejection ; and in this respect, that of Thomas must have been veiy
great, in consequence of the strength of his former doubts, and the
duration of his suspense. That which strengthens faith, exliilarates
the heart. “ Believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of
glory.” And there is sometimes a tumult of joy which needs to be
allayed, and causes a conflict with faith, like opposing tides in a frith.
“They believed not for joy ; Then he said to them again. Peace be unto
you !” Compose yourselves, as if he had said, and listen to the commis¬
sion and instructions which I have to give you.

6. It is expressive of homage and adoration. This is implied in the
name which the disciples gave to him commonly. The Lord ; but it is
more decidedly expressed in the appellations in our text, “ My Lord, and
my God.” It is said of the women to whom he first appeared, that
“they held him by the feet and worshipped him.” We are not told
that this was the posture in which Thomas made his confession, but we
can scarcely doubt that it was. At any rate, no bodily attitude could

314

SERMON VI.

express adoration so strongl}' as the exclamation which burst from his
lips, as soon as the scales of unbelief fell from his eyes.

It is not by an act of subjection or allegiance to Christ as a King,
that a sinner is justified : faith in him as a priest is the justifying act ;
but if the first gracious act is believing, the second is an act of
obeisance and dedication, and both may be expressed by the same
words, and these the first words which proceed from the opened lips of
a converted sinner, or a recovered saint. “ I am the Lord’s.” “ Truly,
Lord, I am thy servant.”

7. It is expressive of an appropriating claim. I mention this last,
because it is interwoven with, and runs through all the feelings we have
been describing. What would it have availed our disciple to be per¬
suaded that Jesus had risen, had he not looked on him as his Redeemer ?
Conceive for a moment the horror which Judas, if he had been alive,
must have felt at the sight of the print of the nails and the scar ! It
was the relation in which Thomas stood to him that deepened his
shame, as it did that of Ezra : “ 0 my God, I am ashamed and blush
to lift up my face to thee, my God ! ” This imparted an unction to all
the new discoveries which he had obtained of the glory of Christ — the
excellency of the knowledge of J esus Christ, my Lord."' This was at
once the cause and the token of his love to Christ. He loved him
because he was his Lord, and he called him his Lord because he loved
him. There is the my of love, as well as of faith, and this accented
both his joy -and his adoration. “ My soul doth magnify the Lord, and
my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.”

The inferences that might be drawn from this subject are many ; let
the following suffice :

1. See a proof of the divinity of Christ. The indirect proofs of this
doctrine, incidentally occurring in Scripture, are not of the least con¬
vincing and satisfying nature, and of these the one before us is not the
least striking. It is but a poor evasion of the enemies of this doctrine,
to say that our text is the language of ecstasy, and not to be understood
in a strict sense. Christ surely was calm and composed ; but instead of
correcting and guarding the language, he sanctioned it. “Thomas,
because thou hast seen, thou hast believed ” — and thou hast done well,
though tardily — “blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have
believed.” Believed what? Just what Thomas had confessed him to
be — his God.

2. The subject furnishes a proof of the divine authority of tlie Gospel.
The doctrine of Christ’s resurrection is the corner-stone of our faith,
whether it be considered in relation to the truth of Christianity, or to
the reality and perfection of the atonement. “ If Christ be not risen,”
says the apostle, “ then we are found false witnesses of God, because we
have testified of God that he raised up Christ yea, Christ himself
would have been a deceiver or deceived, for he gave this out as the sign
of his being the Messiah, that he should rise on the third day. And,

THE CONFESSION OF THOMAS.

315

in like manner, if Christ is not risen, “ our preaching is vain, and your
faith is vain ; ye are yet in your sins.” On both these accounts the
Scripture is full and explicit in its statements of the evidence on
which this truth rests. Of the external and direct evidences, the
apostle gives a summary in 1 Cor. xv. 5 — 8. But there are certain cir¬
cumstances, specified in the evangelical records, tending strongly to
corroborate the testimony of the witnesses of the resurrection, one of
the chief of which is their backwardness and aversion to believe the
fact ; showing that they were neither impostors, nor of that disposition
of mind which would have exposed them to be the dupes of deception,
by listening to idle reports, or mistaking a phantom for the reality. Of
this we have, besides other instances in this chapter, a striking illustra¬
tion in the case of Thomas. And in all this we see the manifold wis¬
dom of God, in bringing good out of evil, and overruling the infirmities
and faults of good men, for the illustration of his own glory, and the
strengthening of the faith of his people.

3. Let us see the great value and use of faith. It is the mainspring
of Christian activity. It sets the whole soul in motion toward Christ
and God. Until faith is produced, or revived, all the affections are
locked up, or lie dormant. It enlarges the understanding, it melts the
heart into godly sorrow, warms it into love, and elevates it into joy and
adoration. Without faith it is impossible to please God, to improve
Christ, to enjoy ordinances, or discharge aright any duty. To the
incredulous disciple, eveiy molehill is a mountain. All things are
possible and easy to him that believeth. Precious faith ! Some think
that we dwell too much on this grace in our discourses ; and when we
appeal to the Scriptures as the pattern which we follow, they feel disposed
to bring the same charge against the writings of the evangelists and
apostles. They do not reflect that faith is the eye of the soul, which
takes in all the glories of the spiritual world, and sheds their influence
over the mind. Talk to a man born blind of the ravishment which you
derive by looking on a beautiful landscape— he can form no idea how
a simple movement of those eyeballs, which never imparted to him a
single pleasurable emotion, can produce such effects ; but let his eyes
be opened, all will be light and life without and within. Thomas
believes and recognises God his Saviour, and rejoices in him with
joy unspeakable and full of glory.

4. The subject affords matter of reproof. We are astonished at the
incredulity of this disciple ; in reading the account of his behaviour
we feel offended ; we redden with indignation at his infidel avowal,
and are apt to think that there was a waste of condescension on the
part of our Lord in acceding to the presumptuous demand with wliich
it was accompanied. But are we better than he 1 Are we among the
blessed ones, who have not seen and yet have believed ? Have we not
reason to blush for ourselves when we reflect how slow of heart to
believe we have been ? Are we even yet prepared to join in the believ-

316

SERMON VI.

ing exclamation of the recovered disciple, now when our Lord is giving
us, in the ordinance of the supper, confirmations to our faith similar to
that with which Thomas was favoured ; and when he is saying to us,
“ Behold my hands and my side — the emblems of my death, and the
evidences of my resurrection — and be not faithless, but believing” — are
we ready to say with this disciple, “ My Lord, and my God 1”

In fine, my brethren, let us see what it is that renders ordinances
effectual — the presence of Christ in them, and the manifestation which
he makes of himself through them. The disciples could do nothing
towards casting the evil spirit of unbelief out of their brother. It was
when Christ was present in the assembly, to speak and to present the
symbol, that the cure was eftected. 0 be earnest for this ! We have
his own promise to plead, “Lo I am with you alway !” And if this
day our unbelief is cured, our distressing doubts dissipated, our dark¬
ness removed, our heart enlarged, and our mouth opened to make the
confession of Thomas, it will be a proof that Christ’s presence has been
with us — it will afford good evidence of our being benefited by his
ordinances — and it will furnish matter for the delightfid reflection in
future, “ O my soul, thou hast said unto the Lord, Thou art my Lord
and my God ! ”

SEEMON VII.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

'‘'‘Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou mef
And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowestall things ; thou knowest that I love
thee.” — John, xxi. 17.

The explanation between two friends after a variance, is always an
interesting scene, and often throws great light on the character both of
the offended and offending party. When a person of a generous mind
has offended a friend for whom he feels sincere affection and respect, he
will look forward with extreme anxiety to his first meeting with him ;
and though he may be assured that he has been forgiven, he will not
be completely at ease until he has heard this from his own mouth, and
until mutual explanations and assurances shall have buried the dif¬
ference. The parting scene between Jesus and Peter was a very dis¬
tressing one. Just as the disciple had finished his denial of his suffer¬
ing Master, Jesus cast upon him a look which awakened in his breast
a train of unutterable emotions. “ The Lord turned and looked upon
Peter, and Peter remembered the word of the Lord, and Peter went
out and wept bitterly.” What his state of mind was during the time
that Jesus hung upon the cross and lay in the grave, it is easier to
conceive than to describe. All that we know is, that though distressed
he was not in despair; for the words which he remembered were a
source of comfort, as well as of contrition : “ I have prayed for thee,
that thy faith fail not.” The special message which the angel sent to
him by the women from the sepulchre was fitted to remove his doubts
as to forgiveness ; “ Go your way, tell his disciples and Peter that he
goeth before you into Galilee : there shall ye see him, as he said unto
you.” And this was soon confirmed by his appearing to Peter, before
he was seen by the rest of the disciples.^ What took place at that
interview we are not told ; but from the silence of Scripture we may
infer that nothing was said on the painful subject. This was a proof
of the tenderness of our Lord, who would have Peter fully assured of
his unabated love to him, before he wounded liis spirit by an allusion
to his fall. One interview passed after another in the same way. But
as the time drew nigh when Jesus was to take his leave of the disciples,

J 1 Cor. XV. 5 ; comp. Luke, xxiv. 39.

318

SERMON VII.

he at last came to an explanation. And how delicately is it managed
by the compassionate Redeemer ! The fall of Peter is not mentioned,
while the questions proposed to' him, both in their import and in their
number, bear upon it, and are calculated to elicit replies which remove
the offence he had given by a tlireefold denial of his Master. All this
is done in the presence of his brethren, who had been staggered by his
fall, and failed in their duty to their Master, though not so flagrantly
as Peter. And now the counsel of Christ begins to be verified in him,
“ Thou, when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.”

Three several times was the question proposed, “ Simon, son of Jonas,
lovest thou me V’ The words of our text relate, first, the effect which'
this question produced on the mind of Peter when it was repeated the
third time ; and, secondly, the reply which he gave to it. To each of
these we now propose to direct your attention.

I. The effect of the question on the mind of Peter.

When first proposed the question must have startled the apostle.
The solemnity of the interrogation, and the particularity with which it
was addressed to him, could not fail to excite something more than
surprise. This emotion would be heightened when the question was
repeated. But when the same question was proposed a third time, a
new feeling arose in his mind, and became conspicuous to all who were
present. “ Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time,
Lovest thou me V' Let us inquire a little into the causes and character
of this feeling.

1. He was grieved because the repetition of the question seemed to
intimate a suspicion of his love. “ Else why ask me the same question
again and again, after it has been answered in the affirmative ? Does
not this imply that he who knows my heart doubts of the sincerity and
truth of my profession ? Can it be that I have deceived myself, — that
I am still deceived, — and that there is still lurking within me some idol,
which as a rival divides my affections with my Saviour ? If so, then
my repeated assurances will be offences, and will dishonour instead of
honouring him. Once have I spoken, yea, twice ; but I will proceed no
farther. Search me, 0 God, and know my heart ; try me, and know
my thoughts ; and see if there be any wicked way in me.” The Lord,
who knoweth all things, did not doubt Peter’s sincerity ; but it was one
great design of his interrogatories to produce these thoughts, and to
lead his disciple to look more narrowly into his own heart. The neglect
of this, or want of a due jealousy over himself, was one cause of his late
fall, and had appeared in the rash and repeated protestations of invio¬
lable fidelity which were made by him.

Self-examination is an impoi^tant Christian duty, and with the same
view which our Lord had in thrice putting the question to Peter, does
the apostle press this duty, with importunate repetition, on the Corin¬
thians : “ Examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith — prove your

LOVE TO CHRIST.

319

own selves— know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in
you, except ye he reprobates ? ” With this view also it has been estab¬
lished as a standing law in the celebration of our Lord’s supper : “ Let
a man examine himself. ” But we are here taught that it is not con¬
fined to preparation for the communion. We need to examine ourselves
after supper — to be questioned after solemn professions and vows. “ iSo
when they luid dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas,
lovest thou me ?” Nor is this duty called for only when we are attend¬
ing ordinances. Christ puts his disciples to the question by deeds as
well as by words. For example, when he sends affliction upon them,
he upon the matter says, “ Lovest thou me ? ” When he lays his hand
heavily upon them, and visits them with breach upon breach, they are
ready, like Peter, to be grieved, and to conclude that he suspects their
integrity. This was J ob’s trial, when he was tempted to think that God
treated him as an enemy, and was thus led to self-examination : “ Show
me wherefore thou contendest with me?” And herein lay the victory
of his faith, and the proof of his sincerity, that even in the face of this
dreadful suspicion, suggested by the fiery trial to which he was sub¬
jected, he could answer Christ’s question in the affirmative : “ Though
he slay me, yet will I trust in him — till I die, I will not remove my in¬
tegrity from me. ” ^ This is the reason why afflictions are called trials ;
they put us to the question : they urge us to self-inspection. “ Let us
search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. ” ^

2. Peter was grieved, because the question brought his former failure
of love to his remembrance. It is painful to have our friendship sus¬
pected ; but especially so if we are conscious of having given reason for
this suspicion. His kind and forgiving Master had not upbraided him
with his fall ; but Peter had not ceased to upbraid himself. His sin
was ever before him. The wound was closed, but it was still gTeen and
tender, and felt the gentlest touch. No sooner was the question asked
a third time, than he thought of his denying his Master thrice. This
renewed the scene, and revived his former feelings. He heard the cock
crow. He saw the look wliich had pierced his heart. And for a
moment he felt his former agony. “ Peter was grieved because he said
to him the third time, Lovest thou me ? ”

The Lord does not afflict or grieve his people willingly. He has no
pleasure in giving them pain. Having freely forgiven them all their
offences, and cast them behind his back, he has no delight in bringing
them to their recollection. But this is indispensably necessary for their
own good and that of others, as well as for his glory. It is necessary
that they should give glory to God by confessing their sins, and renew¬
ing their professions of attachment. It is necessary that their public
offences should be visited with public marks of displeasure. Hence,
while he forgives the iniquities of his children, he takes vengeance on
their inventions. How often was David, in the course of Providence,

1 Job, xiii. 15 ; xxvii. 5. ^ Lara. iiL 39, 40.

320

SEKMON VII.

reminded of his foul fail, particularly by the conduct of Amnon and
Absalom ! Indeed it is impossible for believers to discharge the duties
of their station, to worship Grod, to go to the throne of grace, to the
house of Grod or to a communion table, without having their sin brought
before them, and being forced to say, “ I remember my faults this day.
In this place, and in this ordinance, I dishonoured my Grod and Ee-
deemer.”

3. The grief of Peter on this occasion, though a painful, was a salu¬
tary feeling. It was good for him that he was thus afflicted. How
much better for him to have his wound probed by the gentle hand
of his Master, that it might be closed up for ever, than to have it left
in a state which would have exposed him to suffer from the rough hand¬
ling of others, whether friends or foes ! How much better was it that
he should be reminded of his fall by One who was ready to accept of the
assurances of his love, and to confirm him in his office, than to have the
offence afterwards thrown in his teeth by his own conscience ! In fulfill¬
ing his ministry, he was often obliged to charge others with the very sin of
which he had been guilty. Twice in one of his sermons, preached after
the day of Pentecost, we find him using the very word which, but for
the interview before us, might have unfitted him for finishing the
sentence he had begun, and made his tongue cleave to the roof of his
mouth ; “ Ye denied him in the presence of Pilate when he was deter¬
mined to let him go; but ye denied the Holy One and the Just.”^
This was also the case with Paul, who had to reprove his countrymen
for persecuting Jesus in his followers, and contradicting and blasphem¬
ing his name, though he himself “ was before a blasphemer, and a per¬
secutor, and injurious but then he had to add, “ I obtained mercy.”

Such recollections, though for the present not joyous but grievous,
cannot fail in the end to be profitable to Christians. They serve to
deepen their sense of sin, their humility, their holy fear and jealousy.
What Paul says of his first Epistle to the Corinthians, may be applied
to the intentions of our Lord in awakening such feelings in the breasts
of his penitent disciples : “ I did it not for his cause that had done the
wrong, nor for his cause that suffered wrong, but that our care for you
in the sight of God might appear unto you. — Now I rejoice, not that ye
were made sorry, but that ye sorrowed to repentance. — For behold, this
self-same thing, that ye sorrowed after a godly sort, what carefulness it
wrought in you, yea, what clearing of yourselves, yea, what indigna¬
tion, yea, what fear, yea, what vehement desire, yea, what zeal, yea,
what revenge ! In all things ye have approved yourselves to be clear
in this matter.”^ I may add, that, after shameful falls, such reflections
are useful in reviving a sense of Christ’s love, and, by leading to renewed
professions of attachment, tend to restore confidence between the
parties. Grieved as Peter was at being so closely interrogated, his

1 Acts, iii. 13, 14. 2 2 Cor. vii. 9, 11, 12.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

321

mind would not have been at ease, and he would not have been so
familiar with his Master as he had been, if he had not been led at this
time to renew his protestations of friendship.

4. Before leaving this branch of the subject, let me observe that the
grief of Peter was an evidence of his love to Christ. It answered the
question before his lips were opened. Had he not been grieved, it
would have been a proof that he did not love his Master. Had he not
loved him, and that too in a very strong degree, he would either have
answered the third question, as he had the two former, without being
visibly hurt by it, or if it had created an unpleasant feeling, it would
have been of a very different kind : It would have been anger, not
grief. It is only when our love is called in question by a friend, or when
we are reminded of a wrong that we have done to one whom we really
love, that we are grieved. But of this more afterwards. We proceed
to consider —

II. Peter’s answer to the question. The question was, in itself, highly
appropriate, and calculated to draw forth various emotions besides that
of grief. We might have supposed that it would have been “Aid thou
sorry for having denied me ? ” But it was proposed by him who knows
how to touch the chord which makes the whole soul to vibrate : “ Simon,
son of Jonas, lovest thou me Had Peter been irritated or displeased
by this close examination, he would either have repeated his former
otfence, and broken for ever with his Master, or he would have pre¬
served a sullen silence, or he would have given (as we say) a short
answer. But he replies as before, only with somewhat more fervour and
earnestness. Formerly he had said, “Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I
love thee ; ” now he says, “ Lord thou knowest all things, thou knowest
that I love thee.” His grief, instead of preventing, prompted him to
this profession. He was anxious to remove every shadow of suspicion,
and his generous breast would have burst, had he not relieved it by
avouching attachment, for the third time, to Him whom he had thrice
denied. Let us meditate a little on the manner and matter of the
answer which Peter returned to this question. With respect to its
manner, let me observe,

1. The answer is pertinent and explicit. It is an answer to the
question put to him ; Lovest thou me ? Yea, or nay ? And he said,
“Yea, Lord.” He does not say, “I believe that thou art the Christ,
the Son of the living God.” That was a pertinent answer to the
question formerly proposed to him, but it would have been impertinent
on the present occasion. Had he said, “ I own thee as my Master, I
honour thee as my Lord and God. I am willing to serve and to follow
thee. Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” Jesus might have said,
“ That’s not to the purpose ; I will afterwards lay my commands upon
thee ; in the mean time, I wish to be assured of that without which

322

SERMON VII.

there can be no obedience acceptable to me. Lovest thou me ? Is thine
heart right, as my heart is with thy heart To this Peter answers
directly and explicitly, and we should be prepared to do the same,
especially when we are interrogated. Formerly Peter, of his own accord,
and without any requisition from his Master, was forward in his pro¬
fessions, and he was reproved. But now profession is obediential, and
is accepted. “ There is a time to keep silence, and a time to speak.”

2. It is made with the deepest respect. “Yea, Lord, I love thee.”
There is no undue familiarity or bold fondness in the manner of express¬
ing his affection. Christ is called God’s “ dear Son,” but he is never
once called “ our dear Saviour ” in the New Testament. When express¬
ions of endearment are employed by the Church, they are modestly
veiled under the language of allegory. He was not ashamed to call his
disciples “ brethren,” but the tenderest name by which any of them
called him, either before or after his exaltation, was “ My Lord,” “ God,
my Saviour;” names expressive of love blended with reverence. “Ye
call me Master and Lord ; and ye say well ; for so I am.”^ — “ A son
honoureth his father, and a servant his master : if then I be a father,
where is mine honour ? if I be a master, where is my fear I ” ^ He has
become bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh ; but he is our elder
brother, and has “ a name which is above every name ; that at the
name of Jesus every knee should bow, and that every tongue should
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.”

3. It is humble. Peter does not say, “ I love thee fervently, supremely,
or beyond all that I can express.” Even when the question was at
first put to him in terms which seemed to call for some epithet of this
kind, the degree of affection was modestly dropped, or softened into a
simple profession of love : “Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more
than these ? ” “Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee ” — and the rest
died away in the echo. But it was not lost to him who searcheth the
heart, as appears from the rejoinder, “ Feed my lambs.” “ Yes,” as if he
had said, “ I know what is in thee, and therefore I will commit to thy
care those of mine which require the tenderest and most affectionate
nursing. Heaven is the throne on which I am about to sit down, and
the earth on which I have been a wanderer is to become my footstool ;
but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite heart,
and that trembleth at my word.” But though thus encouraged, and as
it were provoked to it, Peter never rose in his replies to a higher degree.
What a contrast to the vociferous and unmeasured, as well as uncalled
for, protestations made by him on a former occasion ! There is no word
here of not being offended, though all should be offended, or of going
with him to prison and death. True love delights to express itself in
few and simple words. Presumption, hypocrisy, and treachery are loud
and loquacious in their professions of friendship and loyalty : they expect
to be believed for their much speaking.

I 2 Kings, X. 15.

^ John, xiii. 13 ; Mai. i. 6.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

323

4. It is solemn. “ Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that
I love thee.” This is an appeal to the omniscience of Christ — a pro¬
fession made upon oath. To take away all suspicion, and to give the
highest possible pledge of his love, he appeals to Him who knew his
heart. He had before given his testimony, now he turns his declaration
into a deposition, by adding his oath, which, “ for confirmation, is an
end of all strife.” He had formerly accompanied his denial of Christ
with an oath, and it was proper that his renewed profession of attach¬
ment should be made with the same solemnity. Formerly he had abused
this religious ordinance to suj^port a falsehood ; now he employs it for
its legitimate purpose, to confirm a truth. Formerly he had used it
profanely : “ He began to curse and to swear, saying, I know not the
man ;” now he uses it religiously, and with the utmost reverence ;
“ Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that I love thee.” The
abuse of any ordinance, or the prostitution of it to a bad purpose, is no
good reason against the use or application of it to a lawful or holy pur¬
pose. What Christians can say to God or to man, they may say, and they
will be ready, when properly called, to say with all possible solemnity ;
what they can say on their knees in their. closet, they will be ready to
say at the Lord’s table ; and what they can say there they will be
ready to ratify by their oath and subscription. “ In that day shall five
cities in the land of Egypt speak the language of Canaan, and swear to
the Lord of Hosts.” “ One shall say, I am the Lord’s ; and another
shall call himself by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe
with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by the name of
Israel.” ^

Nor is there anything in all this that is inconsistent with Christian
humility, or with a sense of our own insufficiency and of the deceitful¬
ness of the heart ; for all that is attested by the appeal is the sincerity
of the profession, and it implies a reference to the judgment of the
Searcher of hearts, and a desire to obtain his impartial and unerring
verdict.

5. It is a true and unfeigned profession. When Peter denied his
Lord, conscience charged him with falsehood in the very act of uttering
the words, “ I know not the man ; ” and a single look from Christ
covered him with confusion. But now, though grieved at the third
question, and though he knew that the omniscient eye of his Master
was at that moment penetrating and perusing his inmost soul, he
replies with the unflinching firmness of sincerity : “ Lord, thou knowest
all things ; thou knowest that I love thee.” And he to whom the
appeal was made, acknowledged its honesty, by committing to Peter
anew the precious trust, which he ever afterwards faithfully kept.
Hypocrites make a profession of love to Christ, and sometimes with
great solemnity and warmth. There are not a few who, like Judas, say,
“ Hail, Master ! ” and kiss him, only that they may betray his cause

1 Isa. xix. 18.

324

SERMON VII.

by their ungodly lives, their inconsistency, and tergiversation. And
besides these, there is a more refined hypocrisy, of which the persons
themselves are not conscious at the time, but which displays itself
afterwards. It was said of the Israelites of old, that “ their words
were good, but their hearts were not sincere.” And the Most High
himself is introduced saying, “ The people have well said all that they
have spoken ; ” but then he adds, “ 0 that there were such an heart in
them ! ” But the unbelief and hypocrisy of some does not disprove the
fidelity of others ; and, because many who made high professions have
proved perfidious, we must beware of involving all who do so under a
sweeping charge of hypocrisy. “ I said in my haste all men are liars.”
“ Ephraim compasseth me about with lies, and the house of Israel
with deceit ; but Judah yet ruleth with God, and is faithful with the
saints.” ^

We might now advert to the matter of Peter’s answer — love to Christ.
And, in general, I would say that this love is composed of the following
elements. It includes, first, a high esteem of him on account of his
intrinsic excellences, divine and human, as “the chiefest among ten
thousand, yea, altogether lovely.” And, secondly, it implies a lively
sense of the benefits which he has purchased and bestows, and of the
love from which these flow. It proceeds ujDon a believing view of his
free and rich love in undertaking the cause of his people from everlast¬
ing, in appearing in the fulness of time to plead it, in dying for them,
in visiting their souls and calling them by his grace, in taking them into
a near relation to himself, appearing for them in heaven, and dealing
kindly and faithfully with them while they are in the world. It is this
persuasion and experience of his love which constrains them to love him,
and binds them to him by the ties of gratitude.

But, without dwelling on these things at present, I shall merely
mention some characteristic marks of genuine love to Christ, with the
view of enabling you to return a time answer to the question proposed to
Peter, “Lovest thou me?” This question is proposed to us all, and
every individual must answer it for himself ; and it is one of the deepest
importance. Sincere and supreme love to Christ is an indispensable
qualification and sure mark of true discipleship. Nothing will com¬
pensate for the want of it ; and it draws all after it. Christ does not
say to Peter, “ Dost thou fear me ? Dost thou honour me 1 Dost thou
admire me? Dost thou trust me?” He did not ask, “ Simon, son of
Jonas, how much hast thou wept ? How often hast thou fasted ?” But,
“Lovest thou me?” This is the proof at once of the genuineness of
faith and of repentance. If we love not Christ we are none of his, the
profession which we make of his name is a lie, and all our religion and
attendance on divine ordinances is just so much time wasted and labour
lost. Let us then examine ourselves by the marks which characterise
this love when it is genuine.

1 Hos. xi. 12.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

325

And, in the first place, love to Christ is intelligent. This property
distinguishes it from all enthusiastic emotions, which are sometimes
confounded with devout affections, and which spring either from a
heated fancy, or the working of animal feelings. These may be
produced on susceptible minds by means of warm addresses to the
passions, without due care being taken to instil the knowledge of the
truth into the understanding. Such rapturous ecstasies are excited
equally by truth and error ; and accordingly you will find those who
are subject to them, as warm and devout when they have embraced an
unscriptural system of doctrine, as they were when they professed the
doctrine of Christ. Of such persons it may be said, they love they
know not what. This kind of feeling our Lord, instead of fostering,
uniformly sought to discourage and repress. When one said to him,
“Lord, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest,” our Lord, who
perceived that this ardour was not accompanied with any adequate
knowledge of what was implied in the engagement, replied : “ Foxes
have holes, and birds of the air have nests •, but the Son of man hath
not where to lay his head.” ^ When a woman in the crowd, ravished
with his doctrine, cried out in an ecstasy, “ Blessed is the womb that
bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked !” he said, “Yea, rather
blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it.”^ When
Peter was confident and warm in his professions, he said to him,
“ Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice.” Such also was the
strain of his apostles ; “ This I pray, that your love may abound yet
more and more in knowledge and in all judgment.”®

The genuine Christian does not talk like one beside himself or pos¬
sessed, but speaks the words of truth and soberness. If he feels deeply,
he also perceives clearly. He can give a reason of his love to Christ,
as well as of the hope that he has in him, and renders both with meek¬
ness and fear. Though in one sense he loves him whom he hath not
seen, yet in another, and no less true sense, he “ hath both seen and
known him.” He hath seen him in the word of truth. He makes
no pretensions to any knowledge of him which he has not received from
the Scriptures, and gives head to no spirit which would lead liim away
from “ the law and the testimony.”

Secondly, Love to Christ seeks an increasing knowledge of him.
This is the food on which it lives, and by which it grows : nor is it ever
satisfied with what it has attained. “ Yea, doubtless, and I count all
things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus
my Lord.”

Thirdly, Love to Clirist delights in his ordinances, and leads the
person in whom it dwells to observe them regularly and conscientiously.
These are the places where he meets with his people, and holds com¬
munion with them. True love will fly with eagerness to seek its object
wherever it is to be found, and will linger fondly about the spot where

1 Luke, ix. 58. 2 Ib. xi. 27, 3 Pbil. i. 9 ; Col. ii. 2-4.

326

SERMON VIT.

it expects to meet him. When the disciples heard of the resurrection
of their Master, without waiting to go into Galilee where he had pro¬
mised to meet with them, they hasted to the place where he had been
laid. “Then arose Peter, and ran to the sepidchre;” and though
the beloved disciple outran him, Peter was the first to venture into
“ the place where the Lord lay.” ^ On another occasion, such was his
eagerness to meet his Lord, that “ he girt his fisher’s coat unto him, and
did cast himself into the sea.” If a person is careless in waiting on
public ordinances, if he can absent himself from them on the most
trifling account, if he has more pleasure in loitering at home, in
traversing the fields, or in visiting his friends, how dwelleth the love of
Christ in that man 1 0 how unlike him who, at twelve years of age,

remained behind his parents in the temple, and said, “ Wist ye not that
I m\ist be about my Father’s business 1”

Fourthly, Love to Christ displays itself by a conscientious and uni¬
versal obedience to his commandments. These are not confined to the
moral precepts which he specially inculcated in his personal ministry,
such as brotherly love, the forgiveness of injuries, or charity to the poor.
The whole moral law of God, which was within his own heart, and which
he magnified by obeying its precepts and bearing its penalty, is taken
into the administration of grace, and becomes the rule of his govern¬
ment over his redeemed, and the standard of their duty. Consequently,
the obedience which they yielded to it is a necessary test of friendship
and fidelity to him. “ If ye love me, keep my commandments. He that
hath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me.”
Mere professions of love are a mockery and insult to him who “ knoweth
all things.” “ Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which
I say ?” “Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.” It
is not meant that none are the friends of Christ who transgress any of
the commandments ; but they yield an habitual obedience to them, and
do not live in the allowed violation of any of them. “ Then shall I not
be ashamed, when I have respect to all thy commandments.” The
character of acceptable obedience is, that it proceeds from love ; and the
character of evangelical obedience is, that it proceeds from the faith of
Christ’s love. “ The love of Christ constraineth us.”

A variety of other marks might be insisted on, which I shall state
more briefly. True love to Christ displays itself by a fear of displeasing
him, and unfeigned sorrow when we have done what has this tendency.
It is more afraid of displeasing him than all the world. Peter wept
bitterly ; and his were the tears of love as well as of penitence. It dis¬
plays itself by the distress which it feels at whatever dishonours him.
Christ and the believer have common friends and common foes. “ This
thou hast, that thou hatest the deeds, of the Nicolaitans, which I also
hate.” — “ Do not I hate all those that hate thee % ” — “ Rivers of waters
run down mine eyes, because they keep not thy law.” It discovers

1 John, XX. 3 — &; Luke, xxiv. 12.

LOVE TO CHRIST.

327

itself by earnest desires and strenuous endeavours to be like him.
Love has an assimilating tendency. We naturally imitate those for
whom we have an affection, especially if that affection is blended with
esteem and respect. “ Be ye followers of God, as dear children, and
walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us.” It discovers itself by
honouring, loving, and delighting in those who bear his image.
“ Hereby shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love one
another.” She is not an affectionate wife who does not love her
husband’s relations. And this love must show itself according to the
circumstances in which they are placed, and as if Christ himself were
in their circumstances. “ Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these
my brethren, ye did it unto me.” — “ My goodness extendeth not unto
thee, but unto the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in
whom is all my delight.” In fine, true love to Christ will manifest
itself in suffering for his sake, and according to his will ; in cleaving
to him, and confessing him under all circumstances : in grieving that we
love him so little ; in adoring and meditating on his love ; and in
desiring to be with him in the sanctuary above, that we may enjoy his
society without interruption, behold his glory without the intervention of
means, and celebrate the praises of his redeeming love, world without end.

Having laid these marks before you, I may conclude by again urging
you to reply to the question of Christ, “ Lovest thou me ?” Difficult as
the question may be, it admits of a satisfactory answer. Had it not
been so, Jesus would not have put the question. He would not have
pushed the matter to a third interrogatory, if he had not known that
the disciple could reply in the affirmative without hypocrisy, without
his heart condemning him. Nor would he have appointed an ordinance
which was intended only for his friends, and enjoined them to observe
it, if he had not promised that his Spirit, witnessing with their spirits,
should enable them to say, with truth in the inward part, “We love
him who first loved us.” The real friends of Christ may have great
doubts of their actual believing, and of the genuineness of their love to
him. They are deeply grieved on account of the many evidences which
they have given of indifference and even of enmity to him. The proofs
of their ingratitude, forgetfulness, and unkindness, stare them in the
face, and sometimes seal their lips. They complain, and they have good
reason to complain, of the coldness of their hearts, and the deadiiess of
their affections. But though they cannot say, in so many words, “ Thou
knowest that I love thee,” still they can say, “ 0 Lord, the desire of our
soul is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee.” And when urged
by him, they cannot refrain from crying out, “ Lord, I love thee ; help
thou my want of love.” To the question, “Will ye also go away 1”
they instinctively and resolutely reply ; “ To whom shall we go 1 thou
hast the words of eternal life.” And if offered their liberty to leave
him, they would say, with the manumitted slave under the law : “ I
love my master, and I will not go free.” — “ Truly, 0 Lord, I am thy

328

SEKMON VII.

servant ; I am tliy servant, and the son of thine handmaid : thou hast
loosed my bonds.” And that is love.

“ But,” methinks I hear some hesitating soul reply, “ I do not feel that
warmth of affection for Christ which is due to him.” You cannot ; for
his love passeth returns, as it passeth knowledge. “ But I do not feel
that love which others have felt for him, and have had freedom to
express.” Neither durst Peter speak strongly on this head; and the
Saviour graciously dropped the clause in the first question, expressive
of the degree of his love, and instead of “ Lovest thou me more than
these?” simply asked, “Lovest thou me?” He is a condescending
catechist — puts the question in different forms — and helps the confused
and timid disciple to an answer. “ But I have acted an ungrateful part
towards him.” So had Peter ; and yet the Lord, overlooking his past
conduct, and covering it with the mantle of forgiveness, questioned him
as to his present exercise ; and the disciple, though humbled, was able
to give a suitable reply : “ But I am afraid I may falsify my profession.”
And had not Peter as much reason for that fear ? “ Blessed is the man
that feareth always.”

Think on what he is, and what he hath done for sinners. Do you
not love him ? Can you say that you do not ? Would you not wish to
love him ? Can you but love him ? Would you not be ashamed of
yourself, if you did not love him ? Is it not your desire and prayer
that all should love, honour, and serve him ? And have you not such
a strong sense of the high obligation which all are under to this exer¬
cise, that you can join with the apostle in saying, “If any man love not
the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema, maranatha”- — accursed of
the Lord at his coming ?

329

SERMON VIIL'

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

“ U iito Mm that loved us.” — Rev. i. 5.

We have lately spoken of love to Christ as an essential feature in
the character of all who belong to him, and the efficient principle of all
evangelical worship and acceptable obedience. We are now to enter on
a higher theme — to ascend from the stream to the fountain — from the
love of a creature of yesterday, to that of the Father of eternity — “unto
him that loved us.” A delightful, but a difficult task ! We are forci¬
bly reminded here of our Lord’s saying to Nicodemus, when he was
staggered at the doctrine of the new l3irth : “ If I have told you earthly
things and ye believe not, how shall ye believe if I tell you of heavenly
things ? ” Love to the person of Christ appears so strange to some, that
they would expunge it from the catalogue of Christian virtues, and dis¬
courage all pretensions to it as extravagant and enthusiastical j while
others, who acknowledge its reasonableness and obligations, are afraid
of presumption in laying claim to such a high and mysterious feeling,
and think that none but such persons as Peter and Paul and John can
return an affirmative answer to the question, “ Lovest thou me ? ” The
doctrinal error of the one class, and the practical defect of the other,
are to be cured in the same way in which Jesus cured the unbelief of
Nicodemus — by revealing the higher mystery. “ For,” added he, “ God
so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever
believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” If per¬
sons believed the wondrous love of God to sinners, the highest express¬
ions of love to him would not appear unreasonable or extravagant ;
and if we were more occupied in believing contemplations of that won¬
derful subject, we would feel our hearts warmed and inflamed by it, and
woidd be constrained to cry out, “We love him, because he first loved
us.” Come then, and let us light our torch at the rays of the Sun of
righteousness as concentrated in the glass of our text.

Well did it become the inspired writer of this book to speak on such
a theme. Who so fitted for discoursing of the love of Christ, as he
who was admitted to enjoy such endearing proofs of it, both during the
time that he dwelt on earth and after he went to heaven ? He was

* Preached before the dispensation of the Lord’s Suppei', Edinburgh, Nov. 6, 1831.

330

SERMON VIII.

the disciple whom Jesus loved, on whose breast he usually leaned at
supper, and by whose mouth his brethren sought to know their Master’s
secrets. He was also honoured by a personal sight of the Redeemer in
his heavenly glory, and with a revelation of the principal events which
should befall the church from that time to the end of the world. He
was, therefore, a chosen vessel to contain this “ good ointment,” and to
convey it, in all its purity and fragrance and strength, into the souls of
others. No wonder that love, the love of God and of Christ, and love
to God, to Christ, and the brethren, was a favourite topic with John, in
his Gospel, in all his Epistles, and in this book which shuts up and seals
the vision and the prophecy. Not that in this book or elsewhere he
dwells on the personal marks of affection with which he was honoured,
or imparts the secrets which were whispered into his ear in familiar
conversation with his Lord. No ; he was ready to join with his brethi’en
in saying, “Yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet now
henceforth know we him no more.” What he had seen and heard and
handled of the Word of life he declares unto us, that our fellowship
may be with him ; and here he speaks of that love, and those proofs of
it, which were common to him with all believers.

In the preceding context we have a preface and a salutation. The
preface relates to the whole book. The salutation is addressed imme¬
diately to the seven churches of Asia, to whom he sent the letters dic¬
tated by the Son of God who appeared to him in glory. In its matter
it agrees with the ordinary salutations of the inspired writers, being a
prayer for “grace and peace” to them ; but its description of the object
of the prayer is borrowed from the visions with which John was
favoured. Instead of begging the blessing of grace and peace from the
Father, Son, and Spirit, he implores it “from Him which was, and
which is, and which is to come” (that is, the Father), “and from the
seven Spirits which are before his throne” (that is, the Holy Ghost in
the diversity and plenitude of his divine influences), “and from Jesus
Christ, who is the faithful Witness, and the first begotten of the dead,
and the Prince of the kings of the earth.” He departs from the order
usually observed by the sacred writers, and mentions the Son last,
because he meant to dwell on his blessed name, and to prepare the
mind for the vision which he was about to relate. Accordingly, he
immediately breaks out in this fervent doxology, or ascription of
praise, “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sms in
his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and
his Father j to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever !
Amen.”

The redemption of sinners originated in the free and sovereign
love of God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, whose love is one,
though exerted variously, according to the order of their subsistence,
in the voluntarily established economy of grace. The love of the
Father has been justly called “ the eternal disposing cause of redemp-

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

331

tion,” and to it accordingly is ascribed in Scripture the purpose of
saving sinners, the selection of the objects of mercy, the appointment
of the means, and the predestinating of the elect, in the Mediator, to
the enjoyment of eternal life. The love of the Son is the eternal spring
of all that God did in the impetration of redemption ; as the love of
the Spirit is the spring of its application. And in the manifestation
of the love of Christ we see also that of the Father and of the Spirit.
While we are warranted to take a distinct view of divine love as dis¬
played by eaeh person of the adorable Trinity, we can thus view it
as the love of one glorious being. We do not detract from the love
of the Father and Spirit when we say, “Unto him that loved us, and
washed us from our sins in his own blood — be glory and dominion for
ever and ever. Amen.”

Christ is God, and “ God is love.” Divine love, however, could not
have been known but for its effects, which manifest its reality and
magnitude. It would have remained hid in God, and have been
exerted only in those immanent acts of mutual complacency and delight
between the Father and Son by the Spirit, of which we have some faint
discoveries in the method of redemption, though veded in “ light inac¬
cessible and full of glory.” But how gloriously has the love of the Son
of God shone forth, and manifested itself tlirough his incarnation !
Who were the objects of it 1 The sinful, the vile, and degraded. Those
that were lying in guiltiness and defilement. And how did he save
them from their sins 1 Not by an act of mere grace and power, but
by giving his life a ransom for them. Not by blotting out their sins in
his mercy, as the sun blots out a cloud by the strength of his rays, but
by “ washing them from their sins in his own blood,” which he shed for
this purpose. And not contented with redeeming them from all ini¬
quity, and restoring them to favour and happiness, he hath raised
them to the highest dignity and honour — hath made them “ kings and
priests unto God and his Father” — consecrated them as priests and
crowned them as kings, making them partakers of the glory which he
himself inherits, while he sits as “ a priest upon his throne ”■ — at once
ministering to God and reigning with God. These are the fruits of the
love of Christ — they are the love of Christ unfolded, realised, and per¬
fected. His love is the golden thread, which, running through all that
he hath done, and all that he hath procured, binds believers to him in
love and gratitude. He might have done all this merely in obedience
to his Father’s will, with a view to his own honour, or in despite of
Satan ; but the Scripture everywhere assures us that he did it also from
love to sinners.

To the contemplation of this love, as developed in the purchase of
redemption, we propose confining ourselves at present, without entering
upon the effects ascribed to it, further than may be necessary for the
purpose of illustration.

In discoursing on this subject we propose, first, to speak of the mani-

332

SERMON VIII.

festation of the love of Christ ; and, secondly, to make some observa¬
tions illustrative of its nature and properties. And all with a view to
our practical improvement of the subject, in the prospect of the
ordinance in which we are this day to celebrate it.

I. With respect to the manifestation of the love of Christ, we may
remark, in general, that love was the spring of all his mediatory acts.
No doubt, he chiefly sought the glory of his Father, and testified his
love to him by fulfilling his will. But in prosecuting these objects he
was gratifying his own love. “ I and my Father are one ” — one in
nature, one in will, one in love. And so far as we are concerned, we
can find no other motive for his conduct than pure, rich, and overflow¬
ing benevolence. What “ the spirit of the living creature ” was in the
wheels of Ezekiel’s vision, that was the love of Christ in the work of
redemption, — it actuated, impelled, and directed all his motions. It was
love that brought him into the manger ; that conducted him to the temple
at twelve years of age; that presented him before John at Jordan;
that led him into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil ; that carried
him up and down Judea teaching and healing ; that constrained him to
go up to J erusalem at the last passover ; that drew him to Gethsemane
and Golgotha ; and that laid him in the grave. More particularly,

1. It was love that induced the Son of God to undertake our cause in
the counsels of eternity. Thither must our thoughts ascend, to discover
tire first outgoings of this wonderful love, which, like those of its sub¬
ject, “were from old, even from everlasting.” The fall of man did not
surprise the Almighty, or render it necessary for him to have recourse
to new counsels. He had foreseen the apostasy of Adam, with the con¬
sequent ruin of his whole race, and had determined how to act on the
emergency. The human family might have been allowed to perish, as
they deserved, without any reflection on divine justice, and without any
disparagement to that divine goodness, which had created them happy,
and placed them in a situation the most favourable for securing and
perpetuating their happiness. Still they were recoverable by that
wisdom, mercy, and power, to which nothing is impossible ; and their
recovery, though not necessary to the vindication of divine goodness,
held forth an occasion for illustrating it, in the exercise of boundless
grace and compassion. To permit the whole race of mankind to perish,
in consequence of their representative having been seduced, when a
large portion of the angelical order were mercifully preserved from
seduction, did not seem good to that Being who is love. Hence the
purpose which God purposed in himself to recover a number of the
fallen family on earth, and to reunite them to the preserved family in
heaven, and so to fill up the ranks which had been thinned by the
rebellion of those exalted but proud spirits who kept not their first
estate. But how shall this be accomplished, so as to vindicate the
honour of the divine government, and to stamp reprobation on that

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

333

revolt which, after having been put down in heaven by exemplary
punishment, hath now broken out upon earth 1 How shall the mighty
breach be repaired ? How shall an honourable peace be made 1
“ Whom shall I send 1 and who will go for us 1 “ Here am I,” said

the Son of God ; “ send me. I undertake the task, and will see to the
execution.” — “ Thou shalt go and prevail, thou shalt destroy the works
of the devil, by finishing transgression, making an end of sin, and bring¬
ing in an everlasting righteousness ; and therefore thou shalt be extolled,
and exalted, and made very high.” Thus the council of peace was
between them both, and the everlasting covenant was ratified. We
must speak in the language of time, when the question is of that which
was before time began its course, always protesting that we speak as
men ; and in this the Spirit of God hath set us an example. Thus he
who was manifest in these last times for us, that he might shed his
blood as a lamb without blemish and without spot, was “verily fore¬
ordained before the foundation of the world.” Thus, “in the purpose
of God, grace was given us in Christ Jesus,” and “eternal life was
promised before the world began.” ^

Well may Christ say to his redeemed, “Yea, I have loved thee with
an everlasting love.” In his omniscience, he saw them lying in their
blood, without an eye to pity, or a hand to help ; and he voluntarily
undertook their deliverance, and prevented them with his mercy.
Viewed as miserable, they were the objects of his compassion ; and
viewed as recoverable, he felt a willingness and readiness to save them,
independently of any engagement which he came under, or of any
appointment which he received from his Father.

2. The love of Christ appears in the delight he took in the prospect
of the work, arduous and grievous as it was, which he had engaged to per¬
form. True, there is nothing difficult, nothing grievous to the divine na¬
ture. But then it was necessary for him to assume an inferior nature, in
which he should be humbled and suffer. “It became him for whom are
all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory,
to make the Captain of their salvation perfect through sufferings.” Yet
in the prospect of this, he expresses the highest satisfaction and desire.
Why 1 Because in that way he would have an opportunity of bringing
a revenue of glory to his Father, and securing a treasure of happiness
to lost men ; or, in other words, of evincing his love to his Father, and
to the objects of his gracious choice. This is described most graphically
in the eighth chapter of Proverbs. “ The Lord possessed me in the
beginning of his ways, before his works of old. I was set up from
everlasting, from the beginning, or ever the earth was.” The Son of
God was naturally and necessarily the object of his Father’s love and
complacency, as of the same essence, and possessing the same perfec¬
tions with Mmself ; but in these words he speaks of himself as “ set up,”
that is, ordained or appointed. As the appointed Mediator, and lying

1 2 Tim. i. 9 ; Tit. i. 2.

334

SERMON VIII.

under an engagement to become incarnate, there was a mutual com-
l^lacency between him and his Father. “I was by him, as one brought
up with him, and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him.”
Though perfectly blessed as “ the only begotten in the bosom of the
Father,” he looked forward with unspeakable satisfaction to the accom¬
plishment of his work of grace and mercy in time ; “ Rejoicing in the
liabitable parts of the earth, and my delights were with the sons of
men.” 0 blessed Saviour, didst thou thus think of me, in the midst of
that glory which thou hadst with thy Father before the world was !
Before I had a being, “ before the earth was made, or the fields, or the
highest part of the dust of the world ! ”

The period which elapsed from the fall of man to the fulness of the
time fixed in the decree of heaven, was a period of love deferred, during
which the Son of God, by personal appearances, by promises, by types
and prophecies, and, thougli last not least, by the faith, hope^ and desire
which he produced in the hearts of the Old Testament saints, gave in¬
timations of his gracious design, and made prejjarations for the accom¬
plishment of his eternal undei-taking. It was his Spirit who spake by
the prophets, while they testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ
aud the glory that should follow. And as the time of the pregnant
promise drew nigh, his voice was more distinctly heard : “ Sing and
rejoice, 0 daughter of Zion ; for, lo, I come, and I will dwell in the
midst of thee, saith the Lord ; — and I will remove the iniquity of that
land in one day.”^ “Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall
prepare the way before me : and the Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly
come to his temple, even the messenger of the covenant, whom ye de¬
light in : behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of hosts.” ^

3. His love appears in the assumption of our nature. When the
time arrived, he rent the heavens and came down on the wings of love ;
the everlasting mountains were scattered before him, the perpetual hills
did bow. “ Lo, I come to do thy will, 0 God,” was his language when
he put on that body which his Father had prepared for him, and in
which he was to fulfil his eternal engagement. As God, he was inca¬
pable either of obeying or suffering. For this end it behoved him, not
only to assume an inferior nature, but to become man, that so the law
might be fulfilled, and all its demands satisfied, in that nature which
had sinned. He took our nature upon him with all its sinless, but sin-
like infirmities, and appeared in a state of weakness and abasement and
subjection and dependence. This is what the apostle describes in such
striking language, when pressing Christians to the exercise of love and
humility : “ Let the same mind be in you which was also in Christ
Jesus, who 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 himself.” 0 what a stoop was

1 Zecli. ii. 10 ; iii. 9. - Mai. iii. 1.

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

335

there ! This was humiliation indeed ! There is nothing like it —
nothing to which it can be compared. A king coming down from
his throne, baring his royal head, exchanging his robes for the tattered
garments of a beggar, and embracing a dunghill ! What is that to Him
who was in the form of God, taking upon him the form of a servant ;
to him who was equal with God, making himself of no reputation, “ a
worm, and no man leaving his Father’s bosom to lie in the womb of
a mean woman, and exchanging the throne in heaven for a manger, a
cross, and a grave on earth 1 This is the mystery of mysteries. Angels
looked into it with holy wonder, and needed to be roused from their
amazement to worship the incarnate God ; devils were thrown into
perplexity, and trembled, when constrained to believe that this was the
Son of God ; none of the princes of this world knew it, else they would
not have sought the young child to destroy him, nor have crucified the
Lord of glory.

But there is something beyond all this — something which is calcu¬
lated to excite a higher feeling than wonder and astonishment. It is not
the depth of the descent, it is not the contrast between the original
greatness of the person and the meanness of the state into which he
came, it is not even the effects which it produced, glorious and blessed
as they are, which should chiefly fix our attention and engage our faith ;
but it is the cause from which all this proceeded. It was the love, the
great love, wherewith he loved us, which induced, which impelled the
incarnation. There was more in it than condescension. Love turned
this cloud into a -pillar of fire, from which a voice, similar to that which
addressed Moses from the burning bush, was to be heard, saying, “ I
have seen, I have seen the affliction of my people, and am come down
to deliver them.”

God is love ; Christ is the incarnation of love. In him the love of
God dwells bodily ; it is brought down to earth, down to our concep¬
tions and our feelings, — love which can be seen, and heard, and handled.
Now those ancient descriptions, which formerly were figurative, are
true in the very letter : “ In all their afflictions he was afflicted, and
the angel of his presence saved them ; in his love and in his pity he
bare them and carried them.” Now the desire and prayer of the church
is granted, “ Oh that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breasts
of my mother!”^ “For both he that sanctifieth and they that are
sanctified are all of one : for which cause he is not ashamed to call
them brethren.” ^

4. The love of the Redeemer appears in the whole of his obedience
unto death. To this were all the actings of his love directed. To tins
he engaged in the eternal counsel. To this he looked forward with
desire and delight. To this end was he born, and for this end did he
come into the world, “ not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to
give his life a ransom for many.”

1 Cant. viii. 1.

2 Heb. u. 11.

336

SERMON VIII.

He went through an arduous course of sinless, unceasing, universal,
and 2Derfect obedience to the precept of the law, as a servant fulfilling all
righteousness, in a state of deep hiimiliation and manifold temptation.
And yet all appeared as nothing to him, for the love which he bare to
those whom he came to save.

He bore the penal sanction of the broken law as well as obeyed its
precepts. And how great were his sufferings, both of body and mind !
He suffered in all ways — by himger, and thirst, and weariness, by con¬
tradiction, and reproach, and ingratitude ; and he terminated a life of
sorrows by a painful, ignominious, and accursed death. He suffered
from all quarters — from earth and hell and heaven — but especially from
the hand of his own Father as a righteoiis judge, inflicting ujimi him
the j)unishment due to those in whose room he stood, and whose sins he
bore. The hiding of his Father’s countenance, and a deep sense of his
righteous but awful indignation, were the wormwood and the gall in
his cup of suffering, which wrung from him those bitter cries, heard in
the garden and from tlie cross : “ My soul is exceeding sorrowful ; and
what shall I say ? Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me 1” He was made a curse
for us, fell a victim to divine justice, and had his blood shed as a sacri¬
fice on the altar of an offended Deity. The Scrijjture everywhere
celebrates this as the grand proof and effect of his love. “ The Son of
God loved me, and gave himself for me.” “Having loved his own
which were in the world, he loved them unto the end.” “ Unto him
that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his owisi. blood, be glory
and dominion for ever ! Amen.”

II. Having taken this view of the manifestation of Christ’s love, I
shall make a few remarks for illustrating its nature and properties.

1. It is the love of a divine person. The love of the Son in under¬
taking the work of redemption, in coming into the world and in laying
down his life, was of the same kind with that of the Father in appoint¬
ing him to be the Saviour, sending him into the world, and delivering
him up to the death. Of both it is true that “ God commendeth his
love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
And the love of the Son is expressly called the love of God : “ Hereby
perceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for us.” ^
But this leads me to observe that —

2. It is the love of a divine person in human nature. The body
which was prepared for him was animated, not by his divine nature,
but by a human soul, and in this body he was to make his love effectual
by means of all the inward affections, as well as external actions which
were peculiar and proper to it. His human nature was furnished im¬
measurably with all grace, and especially with love, pity, and compas¬
sion to fallen and lost men. There was a universal love or benevolence

1 1 John, iii. 16.

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

337

exerted in doing good to all within his reach, and in loving and forgiv¬
ing his enemies, which was the soul of Ihs obedience, and the fulfilling
of the law. But there was also in his human soul a peculiar love to
those wdio were given him by the Father, which exerted itself in strong,
fervent, and irrepressible desires for their salvation, and which urged
him on, and gave him no rest, until he had completed it by “ giving
himself an offering and a sacrifice of a sweet-smelling savour to God.”
“ I have a baptism to be baptised with, and how am I straitened till it
be accomplished.” “ With desire have I desired to eat this passover
with you before I sufter.”^ So strong did the manifestations of this
desire become as the hour of its consummation approached, that the
disciples, and especially those that were with him in the garden, might
have said, in the language of Naomi, “ The man will not lie in rest un¬
til he have finished the thing this day.”^ Now, in meditating on the
love of Christ, we are not to confine our thoughts to the eternal actings
of his divine nature (for all the acts of his love, as God, must be eternal),
but are to take into view also its temporal acting in the human nature.
In undertaking our cause from everlasting, and in becoming man, the
love of the divine nature only was displayed ; but subsequently to the
incarnation there was a concurrence of the two natures in the expression
of love ; and though the acts of love in these two natures were infinitely
distinct, yet, in virtue of the hypostatical union, they were acts of one
and the same person. If the bodily actions of Christ were the acts of
his divine person, surely his mental acts were so also ; if the act of lay¬
ing down his life, so also the cheerfulness and delight with which he
made the sacrifice, from regard to his Father’s glory, and from love to
pinners. “ God purchased the church with his own blood.” ®

3. The love of Christ is transcendently great. Many examples of
disinterested love have been exhibited among mankind, degenerate as
they are, which have called forth the admiration and gratitude of their
fellow-creatures. Friends have devoted themselves for their friends,
patriots for their country, and martyrs for their God and Redeemer.
But the love of Christ exceeds unspeakably that of friends, and patriots,
and martyrs. It passes understanding, it exceeds all ordinary belief.
It is incredible to all but those who have been taught from above.
Even saints require to be “ strengthened with might by the Spirit in
the inner man,” before they are “ able to comprehend what is the
breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to know the love of
Christ, which passeth knowledge.” It is but a little that we can now
say of it, and 0 how poor and unworthy of the theme is that little !

In the first place, consider whose love it is. John had described him
as the “ faithful Witness, the first-begotten of the dead, and the Prince
of the kings of the earth and we find Christ afterwards saying of
himself, “ I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last.” The favour
or love of an earthly king is highly prized. But he who loved us is

1 Luke, xii. 50 ; xxii. 15. 2 Ruth, iii. 18. ^ Acts, xx. 28.

338

SEEMON VIII.

fairer than the children of men, and hath a more excellent name than
the angels. He is “ the blessed and the only potentate, the King of
kings, and the Lord of lords, — the King eternal, immortal, and in¬
visible.” “ By him were all things created that are in heaven, and
that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or
dominions, or principalities, or powers : all things were created by him,
and for him : and he is before all things, and by him all things consist.” ^
And his love is like himself, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable.

In the second place, consider who were the objects of this love. Hot
creatures of an exalted order, like the angels, — cherubim and seraphim,
who were made pure and fervent as a flame to surround the throne of
the Eternal. He passed by the angels, and set his love on the sons of
Adam, beings of a far inferior grade, and partly allied to the beasts that
perish. Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him ; and the son of
man, that thou visitest him 1 Dost thou open thine eyes on such a one 1 and
deignest, from the height of thy sanctuary in heaven, to cast a glance upon
him ? But this is a small matter. The objects of his love were fallen and
ruined, sinful and self-destroyed. And this unveils other properties of
Christ’s love, still more wonderful than those which we have mentioned.
It was sovereignly free, and independent, and preventing. It is no wonder
to And God taking pleasure in his holy angels, and rejoicing over them to
do them good. He cannot but love his own image, and bountifully reward
those who have always served him, without ever transgressing his
commands. To such it is natirral for him to say, “ Son, thou art ever with
me, and all that I have is thine. ” ^ But he foresaw nothing amiable about
his chosen objects, except what should be the fruit of his love, and the
eiiect of his gracious operation. On the contrary, they presented every¬
thing that was obnoxious and offensive. Theirs was the image of the
devil ; they were the children of disobedience and of wrath. Read the
beginning of the second chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians, and
tlien mark what follows : “ But God, who is rich in mercy, for his
great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath
quickened us together with Christ — by grace are ye saved. ” The love
of creatures is founded either on some favour received, or, when most
disinterested, on some good quality or excellency, real or supposed. Not
so the love of God and his Son. “ Christ died for the ungodly. ”
“ Scarcely for a righteous man will one die ; yet peradventure for a
good man some would even dare to die. But God commendeth his
love towards us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. ”
The love of Christ is enhanced by the consideration that the wretch¬
edness of its objects was as loathsome as it was deplorable. Who ever
heard of a prmce selecting as a spouse one who was at once diseased
and deformed, drowned in debt, “ wretched and miserable, and poor and
blind and naked 1” Yet this did the Son of God for you, Christian.
You have a very just, though figurative, description of your natural

' Colossians, i. 16, 17. ^ Luke, xv. 31.

THE LOVE OF CHRIST,

339

condition in the prophecies of Ezekield “ Thou wast cast out into the
open field, to the loathing of thy own person, in the day that thou wast
born.” We can scarcely conceive a state of greater distress than that
of a new-born infant, deserted by its unnatural parents, and exposed in
the open fields, without having one of those services performed to it
which nature requires. Yet such a case is not desperate ; some bene¬
volent passenger may commiserate the helpless outcast. Such, however,
was not your condition. “ No eye,” says Christ, “ pitied thee, to do any
of these things to thee. ” Thy state was too repulsive to excite ordinary
compassion ; and thou must have inevitably and speedily perished. But,
says he, “ when I passed by thee, and saw thee polluted in thy blood, I
said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood. Live ; and behold thy time
was a time of love ; and I spread my skirt over thee : yea, I sware unto
thee, and entered into a covenant with thee, and thou becamest mine. ”
“ Is this the manner of men, 0 Lord 1 ”

In the third place, apply what has been already said as to the ways
in which he has manifested his love, — how unparalleled is it in this
respect ! In undertaking the desperate cause of his people, condescend¬
ing to unite himself with them by assuming their degraded nature, and
in it performing such hard service, and laying down his precious life for
them ! No creature ever made such sacrifices, for none ever had so

' I

much to sacrifice. None ever stood so high, and none coidd have
stooped so low. And to these we might have added the proofs of his
love which he is still giving and will continue to give to his church,
were it not that we confine ourselves to what relates to the purchase of
redemption.

Lastly, add to all this the precious and inestimable blessings which
he has purchased for them. In general, he obtained eternal redemption
for them. He hath procured, by his obedience and death, the forgive¬
ness of all their sins — reconciliation to God and restoration to his
favour — holiness — adoption, with all the rights and privileges of the
sons of God, enlarged and enhanced and heightened by their union with
him who is the only-begotten Son of God and the heir of all things, so
that they are made heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ. And who
can conceive what is included in these prerogatives ? “ Eye hath not

seen, neither hath ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of
man, what God hath prepared for them.” They shall inherit all things.

III. Let us attend to the practical improvement of this subject.

1. We may see one proof of the deep depravity of mankind. This is
to be found in the reception which the Gospel and the Saviour whom
it reveals meets with from the world. The Gospel contains a revela¬
tion of the love of God, not only by word but by deed. “ Herein is love,
not that we loved God but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the
propitiation for our sins.” But he is neglected, despised, rejected, blas-

1 Ezek. xvi. 5—8.

340

SEEMON VIII.

phemed. Men speak great things in praise of charity, or love. Believe
them, and you would think that if it were to appear in a bodily shape
on the earth, all the world would fall down and worship the heavenly
visitant. Charity did make its appearance on the earth in all its
celestial attractions. It dwelt among men in the person of Jesus
Christ ; it went about proclaiming peace, breathing good-will, and per¬
forming works of mercy. And what was the reception which it met
with '? Instead of worshipping, they crucified it. But this was not the
worst. By an amazing display of divine wisdom and mercy, that death
which, as inflicted by men, was the greatest crime ever committed under
the sun, proved the expiation of sin ; Christ was raised from the dead,
and repentance and the remission of sins were, by the commandment of
the everlasting God, preached in his name to all nations, beginning at
J erusalem. And what was the consequence of this 1 Why, that the
Saviour should be crucified afresh by the unbelief, impenitence, and
ungodliness of the greater part of those to whom he was proclaimed
with all the demonstration of his matchless love ! And this is still the
treatment which Christ receives in his word. His salvation is neglected,
the report of his sufferings is heard as an antiquated tale, and his love
is slighted and contemned. This is ingratitude of the darkest hue ; and
there is not a surer mark of depravity than ingratitude. Woe to the
world called Christian, because of this ingratitude ! There is no such
sin among heathens. The devils are not chargeable with it. They were
guilty of deep ingratitude to the Being who placed them in such an
exalted rank ; but they never poured contempt on the love of a Saviour.
They instigated the death of Christ, but they believed that he was come
to torment them before the time.

2. Here is food for faith. “We have known and believed the love
that God hath to us,” says John ; “God is love.” If you would
know the love of God, you must believe it. There is no other way of
becoming acquainted with it. This is “the hidden manna.” Sense
cannot perceive it ; reason cannot discover it ; man cannot teach it.
“ Unto you which believe, he is precious.” “ Whom having not seen,
ye love ; in whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, ye
rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.” Without faith we can¬
not receive or feed on any of the truths of the Gospel ; and provided we
have tnie and saving faith, the love of Christ will, in some degree, be
apprehended and appropriated. The all-sufficiency and suitableness of
Christ as a Saviour, his ability and willingness to save all that come to
him, with the warrant which all have to do so, are the first things
which call the attention and engage the faith of a , convinced sinner.
But he cannot rest there ; he rises, with a heavenly instinct, from the
stream to the spring. “It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all
acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sin¬
ners.” And why did he come on this errand 1 From love, mere
love, is the answer. If the fact be true, and the report worthy of all

THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

341

acceptation, is not the love, which was the impulsive cause of the whole,
worthy of our faith also 1 Yes ; “ the Son of God loved me, and gave
himself for me.” And who art thou that speakest so boldly, and appro-
priatest so confidently 1 “ I am less than the least of all saints — the

chief of sinners — for I was a blasphemer, and a persecutor, and in¬
jurious ; but I obtained mercy” — and why not me also ?

3. Let us see the reasonableness and the duty of love to Christ.
What is the first and main thing we owe “ to him that loved us,” and
loved us at such expense 1 A child can answer. Love. Nature, under
the influence of the common feelings of mankind, cries out against
those who do not requite love for love. “ For sinners also love those
that love them.” Those who profess to believe the great doctrines of the
Gospel, and feel no gratitude and affection to the Saviour, “ have denied
the faith, and are worse than an infidel.” Pagans and profane godless
men will rise up in the judgment and condemn such Christians. “ Love,”
says one, “ is that jewel of human nature which commands a valuation
wherever it is found.” Though a person be far beneath us, though we
have little or no need of his good offices, though he has it not in his
power to confer any benefit upon us, though he fail entirely in his
endeavours to serve us, yet if his love be real, sincere, and constant, and
is evinced to be so by his exertions, it commands our respect and esteem,
and we feel our hearts instinctively making some return in kind, if they
are not utterly debased by habits of depravity. But if the person be of
a superior rank, if he possess personal excellences, if his love to us has
exposed him to great inconveniences and charges, and if it has procured
for us and ours the most substantial and precious benefits, the whole
world would cry shame upon us, if we did not evince a reciprocal
affection. Need I say that all these enhancements are to be found in
the love of Christ, to such a degree and height as is unparalleled in the
whole creation 1

The genuineness of our love to Christ is proved by the obedience
which we yield to his will, according to his own saying, “ If ye love me,
ye will keep my commandments.” But the keeping of the command¬
ments of Christ is one thing, and love to Christ is another. The latter
is the spring and principle from which the former proceeds. Those are
not to be listened to who would represent obedience as all the return
which Christ expects, and who would set aside or deciy all feelings of
the heart towards the person of the Saviour. If there is any truth in the
Gospel, if there is any reality in what it says of the love felt and shown
by Christ, then love to his person forms an essential part of genuine
Christianity. He is not a Christian, he knows nothing of the power of
the Gospel, he knows nothing of the grace of God in truth, he does not
believe one article of the Christian faith aright, who does not perceive
and feel the love of Christ pervading the whole with its sweet and
attractive and heart-penetrating odour ; and he is not sensible of the
love of Christ, nor values it, whose affections are not drawn out to him.

342

SERMON VIII.

“ Because of the savour of thy good ointments, thy name is as ointment
poured forth ; therefore do the virgins love thee. Draw us ; we will
run after thee. The king hath brought me into his chambers : we will
remember thy love more than wine : the upright love thee.” “ We love
him, because he first loved us.” It is the grief of the heart of every true
believer, that he loves the Saviour so little ; and he is ashamed, as well
as grieved, that there is such a disparity and distance between — not the
love of Christ, for that is infinite— but between his knowledge of the
love of Christ and the returns which lie makes to it. They turn the
Gospel, and indeed all religion, into a skeleton, — they squeeze from it
the very marrow and life’s-blood, who exclude from it love to God, and
who discountenance and discourage, under the name of enthusiasm, the
most intense and fervent affection to the person of Christ, arising from
a persuasion and sense of his love. “ I had rather,” says a writer,
whose warm piety was balanced by the soundness of his judgment and
his deep insight into the mystery of the Gospel — “ I had rather choose
my eternal lot and portion with the meanest believer, who, sensible of
the love of Christ, spends his days in mourning that he can love him no
more than he finds himself able, in his utmost endeavours for the dis¬
charge of Ids duty, to do, — than with the best of them whose vain
speculations, and a false pretence of reason, puff them up into a contempt
of these things.” \

Live, my brethren, in the believing contemplation of this love. It is
not by a single act of faith, nor by occasional acts, but by a life of faith,
that our love to Christ can be strengthened, and become the habitual
and constraining principle of our obedience. “ The life which I now |
live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son'of God, who loved me, |
and gave himself for me.” “Keep yourselves in the love of God.”
And beware of a carnal, sensual frame of mind, which is incompatible
with it. The mind must be fitted and prepared for such contemplations,
by rising above the gross conceptions of sense, as well as the grovelling
lusts and malignant passions of sin. Let your whole souls be given to
the meditation of the love of Christ, and in coming forward to his table,
let the heart of every one accord with the grateful and adoring ascrip¬
tion : “ Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in
his own blood— to him be glory and dominion, for ever and ever ! —
Amen.”

343

SERMON IX.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHPJST.

“ For we have not an high priest which cannot he touched with the feeling of our
infirmities; hut was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.” —
Heb. iv. 15.

The salvation which the Gospel reveals is equally adapted to all man¬
kind. There is not one Gospel to the Jew, and another to the heathen
■ — one doctrine of salvation for the devout and sober, and another for
the profane and profligate. As all have sinned and come short of the
glory of God, so the same Lord is rich unto all that call on him,
justifying them freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in
Christ J esus, and saving them by the washing of regeneration and re¬
newing of the Holy Ghost. But while the apostles of Christ preached
everywhere and to all the same Gospel, they varied occasionally,
“ according to the wisdom given to them,” the motives by which they
urged the reception of the truth, and steadfastness in adhering to
it when received.

The principal motive to steadfastness in the Gospel is the great salva¬
tion which it makes known, and this is common to all Christians. Yet
we may observe a difference in the exhortations to this duty which the
apostles addressed to Gentile and Jewish believers. In addressing the
former, they reminded them of the gross ignorance and idolatry in which
they had at one time been plunged, and from which they were recovered
by the sudden shining of the true light on their minds. In dealing with
the Jews, again, they insisted much on the great improvement which
the Gospel had made on their former privileges. They possessed all
they had enjoyed under the law, or first covenant, and much more. In
point of revelation, they had, in addition to Moses and the prophets,
Christ as the Apostle of their profession, that great Prophet whom God
had promised to the fathers that he would raise up to declare his will
more perfectly. Under the former dispensation, they had sacrifices by
■ which they were allowed to draw near to God ; but now they had that
sacrifice which, once offered, had for ever put away sin, and in the faith
of which they might serve God acceptably all the days of their life.
Formerly, they had a priesthood divinely appointed to serve at the altar,

344

SERM03Sr IX.

and particularly a liigli priest, who once a-year went into the holy of
holies with the blood of atonement, and stood before the mercy-seat as
the representative of the congregation ; but now they had a high priest,
greater than all the priests under the law. This is the argument by
which the apostle urges constancy in the Christian faith on the believing
Hebrews in the verse preceding the text. “ Seeing then that we have a
great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God,
let us hold fast our profession.” The high priest under the law was a
mere man of like passions and subject to sin as his brethren : our high
priest is “Jesus the Son of God,” a person of infinite dignity and
spotless purity. The Jewish high priest passed through the veil into
an inner apartment of a material and earthly sanctuary : the Christian
high priest “ is passed into the heavens,” there to appear continually
before God for us. The dignity of his person, and the exalted place
which he occupies, reflect the highest honour on our profession •, they
secure to us the highest privileges, and therefore the consideration of
them ought to animate us in adhering to him, and fortify our minds
against apostasy.

But then, the very things which constitute the pre-eminence of their
high priest, and which are necessary to the perfection of his office, may
also operate as a discouragement on the minds of Christians. If he is
so great and exalted, and so far removed from us in place (they will be
ready to say), how can we suppose that he will interest himself in our
affairs, or that he will look down from the height of his glorious throne
in the heavens upon those who dwell on earth, and are compassed about
with manifold infirmities 1 Against such discouraging fears or doubts,
the words of our text furnish an antidote and remedy : “ For,” says the
apostle, “ we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the
feeling of our infirmities.” Though he be great, he is also condescending ;
though he be exalted, he is also compassionate and sympathising ;
though he be as far removed from us, in his human nature, as heaven
from earth, yet is he connected with us by a real though invisible tie,
which draws down his regard upon us, and prevents him from forgetting
us for a single moment — this is sacred, tender, and strong sympathy.
He not only loves his people with a divine love, but bears to them the
affection of a brother, “ bone of their bone, and flesh of their flesh
feels for them, not merely with the active benevolence of a perfectly
good man, but also with the impassioned feeling of “ a man of sorrows,
and acquainted with grief” — of one who knows what it is to suffer,
from his own experience— who “ was in all points tempted like as we are,
yet without sin.” Under his greatest sufferings and temptations he
never sinned, as we are all apt to do ; but this is the single point of
disparity ; in all other points the resemblance holds between him and
his brethren. There is not an infirmity, or pain, or grief which they
bear, that he did not bear before them ; and in consequence of this he
is capable of feeling for and along with them. By the “ infirmities” of

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST.

345

Gliristians we are to iinderstancl everything, including their sufferings,
which has a tendency to make them faint in their Christian profession.
And when it is said, “ we have not an high priest that cannot be touched
with the feeling of our infirmities,” the negative form of expression is to
be understood as having the force of a strong affirmation. Though we
have a great High Priest who is passed into the heavens, let us not
suppose for a moment that he is such a one as cannot be touched — he is
tenderly, powerfully touched with a fellow-feeling of our infirmities ;
He symjidthises with us, as the words literally read.

The text teaches us that one of the distinguishing qualifications of
Christ as our High Priest, is the sympathy or compassion wliich he feels
for the infirmities of his followers, in consequence of his having passed
through the trials to which they are liable, with this single difference,
that he sinned in none of them. Let us, in they?rs^ place, explain this
sympathy of our great High Priest •, and, in the second place, state
some of those points in which he was tempted like as we are, and is
therefore qualified for sympathising with us.

I. The principal work of Christ as our High Priest was to make
reeonciliation or atonement for our sins. For this purpose he assumed
our nature, and through the Eternal Spirit offered himself without spot
unto God. This was typified by the sacrifices under the law, the
offering of which formed the great employment of the Levitical priest¬
hood. And without this we could have derived no comfort from the
intercession and compassion of Christ. But it behoved him to be not
merely a proper, but also a merciful high priest. Sinners needed not
only to be saved from their sins by his blood, but to be relieved,
favoured, and comforted by his grace. They needed a Saviour who
would not only undertake for them, and be able to perform what he had
undertaken, but also would do all his work with condescension, tender¬
ness, and pity. They required to be “ saved” and “ pulled out of the
fire” with “ compassion.”^ They were destined, after being redeemed,
and before coming to a state of final safety in heaven, to travel through
the wilderness of this world, subjected to various trials, hardships, and
temptations; and accordingly it was necessary that they should be
placed under a leader who, being made perfect through suffering, would
treat them with all the care and tenderness which flow from sympathy.
Such is the fine description given of the divine care about the children
of Israel, after they were brought out of Egypt, and during their pere¬
grination in the wilderness : “ In all their affliction he was afflicted, and
the angel of his presence saved them ; in his love and in his pity he
redeemed them : and he bare them and carried them all the days of
old.” * And again it is said in brief and summary narrative, “ His soul
was grieved for the misery of Israel.” ® As applied to God, these and
similar expressions are used according to that strong figure of speech

1 Jude, V. 22, 23. * Isa. Ixiii. 9. ® Judg. x. 16.

S46

SERMON IX.

called anthropopathy, by which he is described as feeling after the
manner of men. Properly speaking, there can be no such feeling in the
divine mind as sympathy, or suffering with the miserable : when
ascribed to God, it can only mean his knowledge of their misery, with
his will or determination to relieve them. But in Christ there is literal
sympathy •, and herein does the grace and wisdom of God appear, that
he has provided us with a high priest, who not only knows our miseries,
but is touched with the feeling of them.

1. The sympathy of Christ is both natural and moral. It is a law of
our nature, and a striking proof of the wisdom and goodness of our
Creator, that when we see our fellow-creatures in distress, we are
irresistibly affected with a feeling similar to theirs, which excites us to
interest ourselves in their behalf, and to do all in our power for their
relief. When they exhibit symptoms of suffering pain, the pang goes
to our heart ; when they weep, the tear starts into our eye ; and we
cannot find relief but in the way of relieving them. We sympathise,
that is, we suffer with them. The foundation of this lies in our par¬
ticipation of a common nature ; the proximate and immediate cause of
it is the revival of those feelings which we ourselves had experienced on
the same or similar occasions. The feeling is partly natural and in¬
voluntary, but it is connected with the moral and benevolent affections.
We may repress, or we may cherish it. Hence we read of persons who
“ shut up the bowels of their compassion,” and of others who take com¬
passion. Hence also it is commanded as matter of duty, “ Rejoice
with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.” “ Re¬
member them that are in bonds, as bound with them ; and them which
suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.” i

Now the sympathy of our Lord partakes of both of these qualities.
His holy soul is full of good-will, benignity, tenderness and mercy, dis¬
posing him to relieve and comfort those that are in distress. This was
the effect of the immaculate purity of his human nature, and of that
abundance of grace which was poured into it by virtue of its union with
the person of the Son of God, and its unction by the Holy Spirit with¬
out measure. But then this disposition is excited by that fellow-feeling
which arises from his having been himself a sufferer. And this is one
of the reasons on accoxmt of which he assumed our nature with all its
sinless infirmities, and still continues to wear it with all its essential
affections and feelings : “ In all things it behoved him to be made like
unto his brethren ; for in that he himself hath suffered being tempted,
he is able to succour them that are tempted.”^ He had the heart of a
man, all the affections of a man, and that in the highest state of sensi¬
bility and tenderness. Whatever a human soul can suffer under grief,
sorrow, shame, fear, disappointment, regret, — he felt it aU. We are apt
to think, that because he was in the form of God, this, or the conscious¬
ness of it, must have borne off' from his spirit, or counterbalanced the

1 Rom. xii. 15 ; Heb. xiii. 3. 2 Beb. jv, 17, 18.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST.

347

afflictions which he met with, so as that he felt little trouble from them.
The language of Scripture about these, and the manner in which he
expressed his own feelings, testify that this is a great mistake. So far
as his sufferings were purely penal, he shunned them not, he shielded
not himself from them. He bared his breast to the shafts of affliction,
and allowed its bitterness and gall to soak into the inmost parts of his
soul. He gave many proofs of his sympathy with those who laboured
under distress both bodily and mental. “ When he saw Mary weeping,
and the Jews also weeping which came with her,” he was troubled,
groaned in spirit, and wept ; “ and again groaning in himself, he cometh
to the grave of Lazarus.” ^ He “ was moved with compassion on the
multitudes when he saw that they fainted, and were scattered abroad,
as sheep having no shepherd.”^ And when he beheld the city of
Jerusalem, we are informed that “he wept over it.”® His feelings on
that occasion were those of deep regret, of disappointed benevolence, of
tender commiseration, of pungent distress for the doom which that
obdurate people had drawn down on their own heads ; feelings which
could be expressed in no language but his own mysterious and melting
strains of sorrow : “ If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this
thy day, the things which belong to thy peace ! But now they are hid
from thine eyes.” On another occasion, while he could not forbear to
denounce the sin, he gave full vent to his compassion for the sufferers.
“ 0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, which killest the prophets, and stonest them
that are sent unto thee ; how often would I have gathered thy children
together as a hen doth gather her brood vmder her wings, and ye
would not ! ” *

2. The sympathy of Christ is not the less perfect, nor does it yield
the less comfort to us, that he was “ without sin” in all liis sufferings
and temptations. He was “ tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”
In the following chapter,® the apostle mentions that every high priest
taken from among men “ can have compassion on the ignorant, and on
them that are out of the way ; for that he himself also is compassed
with infirmity.” And that he refers here to moral infirmity, or prone¬
ness to sin, appears from the next verse, in which he says, “ by reason
hereof he ought, as for the people, so also for himself, to offer for sins.”
But we must not infer from this that our Lord wanted any motive or
incentive to compassion which they possessed. So far was this from
being the apostle’s conclusion, that he afterwards shows that, in this
respect, Christ was superior to the legal priests : “For such an high
priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners ;
who needeth not daily, as those high priests, to offer up sacrifice, first
for his own sins.” ® No doubt the consciousness of their own moral in¬
firmity, or liability to sin, would make the priests under the law, and
should make the ministers of the Gospel still, tender in their dealings

1 John, xi. 33—38. 2 Mat. ix. 36. 2 Luke, xix. 41.

* Luke, xiii. 34. * Ueb. v. 2. * Ueb. vii. 26, 27.

348

SERMON IX.

with fellow-sinners, — “ considering themselves, lest they also be tempt¬
ed.” ^ But whatever use is to be made of it in this way, yet sin
dwelling in any man is in itself an evil, and in proportion as it prevails,
instead of helping, hurts the exercise of compassion, as well as of every
other good disposition, rendering him less qualified for discharging his
duties to others. From this sinful infirmity our Lord was perfectly
free ; yet being made sensible of its power over us, by his having
felt all the natural infirmities which are connected with sin, and
by which we are often drawn into its commission, he is perfectly
cpialified for sympathising, not indeed with the sin, but with the
weakness which yields to the temptation. The subject requires to be
treated with delicacy and caution ; and therefore I shall explain my
meaning by an example. In the wilderness, our Saviour was “an
hungered.” ^ The tempter took occasion from this to solicit him to
work a miracle for the mere purpose of relieving himself from the painful
feeling. From this Christ knows the influence of the cravings of appetite
in tempting his people to have recourse to unlawful methods of relief.
As a person who successfully resists the violence which may be used by
another to draw him off the king’s highway, knows the strength of the
assailant better than one who yields with little or no resistance ; so
Christ knows the force of temptation which he uniformly resisted, better
than we who easily comply with it.

3. His sympathy is not impaired in his glorified state, nor is its
exercise incompatible with the felicity which he enjoys in heaven. It
forms one of his official qualifications as our high priest, and as the
office still continues, so must the qualification be permanent. Hence
the numerous instances in which he gave proofs to Ms followers of his
retaining the same nature in which he suffered. On appearing to them
after his resurrection, when “ they supposed that they had seen a spirit,”
he would have them to satisfy themselves of his personal identity, and
the sameness of his human nature, by appealing to the testimony of their
senses. “ Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself : handle me
and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have.” ®
When he left the world, the angels testified to the gazing disciples that
“that same Jesus should so come in like manner as they had seen him
go into heaven.” ^ When he met with Paul on his way to Damascus,
he announced himself as suffering in sympathy with his church on
earth ; — “ I am J esus whom thou persecutest.” When in the isle of
Patmos he appeared to J ohn in his glory, to comfort his awe-stricken
disciple, and convince him that he was the same kind Master on whose
breast he had reclined, he “ laid his right hand upon him : saying. Fear
not ; I am he that liveth, and was dead.” His compassion is essentially
the same that ever it was. A change doubtless has, to a certain degree,
taken place on the mode of its exercise. Everything that was painful
in it, as felt by him during the days of his flesh, is now removed. He
no longer weeps or groans— for all tears are for ever wiped ayray from

1 Gal. 1. 2 Mat. iv. 2. 3 Luke, xsiv. 39. * Acts, i. 11.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHEIST.

349

his eyes. But he still retains a lively recollection of all that he suffered
on earth, and of the manner in which he was affected under it, which,
acting on the essential feelings of humanity, prompts him to exert his
boundless mercy and power in supporting, relieving, and comforting his
afflicted people. This sympathy is inseparable from the nature which
he still wears on the throne, and from the relation in which he stands to
all his followers, and which no distance of place, no addition of glory,
can dissolve or lessen. A friend vdll not feel the less for us that he is in
a distant land, provided he is in the knowledge of our distress j and we
are as much assured of his sympathy by the affectionate letters which
he sends us, as we could be by his words if he were with us. Jesus, the
Son of God, is perfectly acquainted with our griefs and sorrows, and
we are assured of the tender interest which he takes in them, from the
immutability of his character, and from his own declarations, which, in
the experience of his people, he seals from time to time by his Holy
Spirit, the Comforter whom he hath sent to supply his place. Accor¬
dingly, the apostle, in the text, speaks, not of the sympathy which
he showed during the time he was on earth, but of that which he
feels and displays, since he “passed into the heavens.” “We have
not an high priest which cannot he touched with the feeling of our
infirmities.”

II. Let us consider some of those points in which he was tempted
like as we are, and is therefore qualified for sympathising with us.
The apostle does not merely say, in general, that he was tempted, but
that he was “in all points tempted like as we are plainly intimating
that we may take comfort in our distresses, whatever they may be,
from the consideration that our high priest was in the same or a similar
situation.

1. The Lord Jesus is touched with the feeling of our bodily infir¬
mities and pains. There is not a sinless infirmity cleaving to our
mortal frame with which he is not experimentally acquaint ; nor is
there a stage of life in which that infirmity is most felt which he may
not be said to have passed through. “ He grew up as a tender plant ; ”
he was a weak and helpless child, and increased in wisdom and stature.
He can sympathise with those who are tender in years, and is still to be
considered as saying, “ Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid
them not.” And though he did not reach the years of old age, yet it
would appear that his labours and griefs had brought its infirmities
prematurely upon him. He knew what it was to serve his Father
and minister to men, in a weak body, which sunk under fatigue, and
was exhausted by long-continued labour. He experienced hunger
and thirst and weariness. He had, therefore, compassion on the multi¬
tude when he saw that “they had nothing to eat,” and he wrought a
miracle to feed them ; for, said he, “ I will not send them away fasting,
lest they faint by the way.” ^ When the three disciples, exhausted by

1 Mat. XV. 32.

350

SERMON IX.

the fatigue of the preceding day, fell repeatedly asleep instead of
watching with him in his agony, he, with the most tender sympathy,
tempered his reproof and apologised for their conduct : “ The spirit
truly is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And what severe bodily pain
he endured, particularly at the close of his life, is well known. Take
the short account of it in the prophetic language of the twenty-second
Psalm, which is descriptive at once of great pain and extreme exhaus¬
tion ; “ I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint :
my heart is like wax ; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. My
strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to my
jaws.” What comfort may Christians derive from these words when
they are suffering in a similar way !

True it is that we do not read of his labouring under certain defects
and diseases to which we are subject. But he is not on this account the
less qualified for sympathising with his people under them. Our
sympathy is founded on what we have suffered, but it is extended and
increased by what we see in the sufferings of those with whom we have
to do. Now who were the persons who surrounded him, whom he
admitted into his presence, and whose distresses he made his own by
examining and relieving them ? Were they not the blind, the deatj the
dumb, the lame, the leprous, and persons afflicted with “ all manner of
sickness and all manner of disease 1” And hence the Evangelist, after
describing the cures he effected on such persons, represents it as a fulfil¬
ment of the prophecy of Isaiah, “ Himself took our infirmities, and bare
our sicknesses.” ^

2. Our Lord is touched with the feeling of the trials which we endure
in our worldly circumstances. “God hath chosen the poor of this
world.” Christians have not only generally been among those who
earn their bread by the sweat of their brow, but they have often been
in straitened circumstances, and distressed with the apprehension of
being reduced to absolute want and beggary. But here they have the
sympathy of Him who had to complain, “ I am poor and sorro\vful.” *
None are more to be pitied than those who have been reduced from
affluence to poverty and dependence. But this was the case with our
high priest : “ though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor.”
In the early part of his life, he sustained himself by labouring at the
trade of a carpenter, and during his public ministry he was supported
by the contributions of his friends. And as this slender fund was
intrusted to one who proved “ a thief,” we need not wonder that his
supplies occasionally failed, and that he could not answer the demands
that were made on him. This seems to have been the case when the
tribute-money was asked from him at Capernaum, and when he wrought
a miracle to discharge the claim — a thing which we never read of his
doing, and which on one occasion he refused to do, to relieve his per¬
sonal wants. Accordingly we are told that “ when Peter was come

1 Mat. viii. 16, 17. * Psalms, Ixix. 29.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST.

351

into tlie house, Jesus prevented him.” ^ The disciple was aware that
the funds of his master were completely drained, and he did not know
how to announce the demand made on him by the officer ; but Jesus
kindly anticipated him by introducing the subject. And in a similar
way does he still prevent the complaints and allay the apprehensions of
his followers, by assuring them of his sympathy with them, and of the
relief which is at hand, though it may be unseen. “ Fear not, little
flock ; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom
and will he sufter you to perish for want by the way 1 “ The earth is

mine, and the fulness thereof. All things are put under my feet, all
sheep and oxen, and the flsh of the sea. Be not distressed about what
ye shall eat or drink : your bread shall be given you, and your waters
shall be sure.”

3. He is touched with the feeling of what we suffer in the distress
and the loss of our relatives and friends. He wept and sobbed and
groaned, along with Mary and Martha, at the death of their brother,
to such a degree as to excite the surprise of the bystanders, who said,
“Behold how he loved him!” It was foretold to his mother, at the
time of his birth, that “ a sword should pierce her soul,” and this was
fulfilled when she saw the “ holy child,” for whom she had magnified
the Lord, and on whose account she expected that ail generations
should pronounce her blessed, delivered into the hands of sinners, and
transfixed and bleeding on the cross. He knew the anguish which
wrung her heart, and, touched with the same feeling, he said to the
disciple whom he loved, “ Behold thy mother,” and to her, “ Behold thy
son.” Think on this, ye who have been bereaved of dear relatives, and
who refuse to be comforted. Did ever mother mourn such a son ? Did
ever son feel such anguish for a mother 1 Behold, and consider if there
be any sorrow like unto his sorrow, and think how well qualified he is
to sympathise with you in a similar situation.

“ But this does not come near my case, nor meet my loss, of which he
could have no experience.” I know what you mean, daughter of afflic¬
tion ; but you are wrong in your apprehension. In the course of his
joumeyings, our Lord met a funeral. It was that of a young man, the
only son of his mother, and she a widow. When Jesus saw her follow¬
ing the body in speechless agony, he had compassion on her, and said
unto her, Weep not. And going forward he touched the bier, and the
bearers, awe-struck, as if the father of the deceased had come to demand
his child, stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee. Arise.
And he that was dead arose, and he delivered him to his mother.* 0,
the transport of delight which now made the heart of that widow to
sing for joy 1 But this is not the feeling to which I wish to direct your
attention. No : it is the sympathy which produced it, and which still
beats in the breast of Him who, regarding all his people with the affec¬
tion of a “kinsman” as well as a Saviour, continues to say, “ Leave thy

1 Mat. xvii. 25. * Luke, vii. 11—15.

362

SEKMON IX.

fatherless children, I will preserve them alive ; and let thy widows
trust in me.” ^

4. Our Lord is touched with the feeling of what his people suffer
under persecution and reproach from theh enemies. It has been the
lot of his followers in some periods to suffer these in very aggravated
inflictions. Their names have been cast out as evil, they have been
traduced as the worst, and vilified as the basest of men, — they have
been spoiled of their goods, deprived of their liberty, tortured and put
to death in every form that ingenuity could devise or inhuman violence
could inflict. And even in more peaceable times they are not alto¬
gether exempted from this species of suffering. “Yea, all that will live
godly in Christ Jesus must suffer persecution.” But they may expect
the sympathy of Him for whose sake they are thus treated. He in¬
curred the hatred of the world, and met with its very worst treatment.
He was reproached, misrepresented, insulted, derided, accused of the
most flagitious crimes — gluttony, drunkenness, sabbath-breaking, sedi¬
tion, blasphemy, and compact with the devil. He was arraigned, con¬
demned, scourged, and put to an ignominious and accursed death. And
all this treatment he received because he faithfully bore witness to the
truth, glorified his Father, and went about doing good to men. “ Con¬
sider him who endured such contradiction of sinners against himself,
lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds.” Not an insult can be
offered, not an injury done to the meanest of his followers, winch he
does not sensibly feel. He that toucheth them, toucheth the apple of
his eye.

5. He sympathises with his people in the trials they meet with from
friends. These are often the sharpest sufferings of Christians. They
can bear the malice and abuse of open enemies ; but oh ! ’tis hard to
endure the coldness, the ingratitude, undutifulness, infidelity, and irre-
ligion of those who are intimately connected with them, and bound by
many ties to act a very different part. “ It was not an enemy that
reproached me ; then could I have borne it : neither was it he that
hated me that did magnify himself against me ; then I would have hid
myself from him : but it was thou, a man mine equal, my guide, and
mine acquaintance. We took sweet counsel together, and walked unto
the house of God in company.”^ But Christ suffered also from this
quarter. When he began his public ministry, none opposed and dis¬
couraged him more than his fellow-citizens, and even his own brethren.
Those that had seen his miracles and eaten his bread, lifted up the
heel against Ifim. Multitudes of those who had professed the greatest
attachment to his person and mission, took offence and left him. How
much was he grieved with the ignorance, unbelief, worldliness, and
inconstancy of his chosen disciples ! And when the hour of his gveatest
trial came, one of them betrayed him into the hands of his enemies ;

1 Jer. xlix. 11. 2 Psalms, Iv. 12, 13.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST.

353

another denied him with oaths and curses ; and the rest forsook him
and fled, so that he was left without a single earthly friend or comforter.
Though this should be your situation, Christians, you need not be afraid
to be left alone ; — you have the sympathy of one who is “ a brother
born for adversity” — “a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.”*
“ I will not leave you comfortless” — I know what it is to be deserted and
l6ft forlorn ; and “ I vflll never, — no, never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

6. Our Lord has a fellow-feeling with what his people suffer under
temptation. All afflictions may be considered as temptations, because
they try the faith and constancy of those who suffer them, and through
their corruptions draw them into sin. In this sense, Christ calls the
whole of his personal ministry a time of temptation, “Ye are they that
have continued with me in my temptations and the same name is
given to the afflictions of Christians, “ No temptation hath taken you
but such as is common to man.” But besides these trials, there are
seasons in which they are more directly tempted by the solicitations
which their spiritual adversary, availing himself of the circumstances in
which they are placed, addresses to their souls, and by which he endea¬
vours to entice them to the commission of sin, to the dishonour of God,
and the marring of their own peace. This is the plain import of many
declarations and warnings of Scripture ; and nothing is more alarming
to them than the apprehension of such onsets, nothing more distracting
than the experience of them. But in all they have relief and refuge in
the sympathy of their High Priest. “ In that he himself hath suffered,
being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted.”^ Among
Ids other sufferings, he was assaulted and sore tempted of the devil,
especially at the commencement and close of his course. He knows
from experience both the wiles and the violence of this arch-adversary
— the baits by which he allures, and the flery darts by which he dis¬
tracts the mind. At the beginning of his ministry, Satan tempted him
chiefly to presumption and pride ; at the termination of it, to despond¬
ency and despair. Every temptation was addressed to some principle
of human nature, and although our Lord resisted them, and never
yielded to them in a single instance or in the slightest degree, yet he
knows from what “ he himself suffered, being temiited,” the tendency
which they have, not only to distress the hearts of his people, but to
seduce them from obedience to God, and they may rely on his compas¬
sion under them. “ Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have thee,
tliat he might sift thee as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee that thy
faith fail not.”

7. He has a fellow-feeling with his people under divine desertion.
Job not only had to mourn that God had i^ermitted Satan to afflict
him, but was distressed by the suspicion that he himself counted him
as an enemy ; and we find other saints complaining often of the hiding

^ Prov. xviii. 24, ^ Ileb, ii. 18.

354

SERMON IX.

of God’s countenance and the anguish which this created. But under
this severe trial they have the sympathy of their Head ; for this also
he suffered, particidarly at the close of his life ; and none of all his
sufferings drew such a bitter complaint from him as this did. When
the multitudes that had followed him went back and walked no more
with him, he could calmly turn to the twelve with the question, “ Will
ye also go away V When Judas came to apprehend him, he merely
said, “Betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?” When Peter
denied him, he only gave him an upbraiding look. And he was silent
before the high priest and Pilate, under all the false accusations brought
against him. But when his Father forsook him, he was thrown into
an agony, and cried aloud — “ My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me !” This was equivalent to the pains of hell j and therefore, short
of remorse and despair, which are rather sins to be forgiven than
sufferings to be compassionated, there is no distress of mind which
he did not experience, and with sympathy for which he cannot be
affected.

8. Our Lord has a fellow-feeling with his people under the fears of
death. Death is what the best of men must undergo. From the
beginning of time, two individuals only, and that for high ends, have
been exempted from the common fate of fallen man. Sooner or later,
Christian, by one path or another, you must descend into the valley of
the shadow of death. The frailties and diseases which we feel are all
proofs and admonitions that this earthly tabernacle, in which our souls
reside for a little, must be dissolved. Nor is it a light thing to die.
The prospect of it is naturally calculated to excite serious thoughts
and alarming apprehensions. Death breaks asunder the closest ties
which bind together the nearest relatives, separates us from all in this
world, from all that we have known and loved and enjoyed and dehghted
in, and ushers us into a new state, and a new world, of which we know
but little. But in this case also we are warranted to expect the sym¬
pathy of the Redeemer. He felt the shrinkings of nature in the pros¬
pect of death ; and “ in the days of his flesh oflered up prayers and
supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to
save him from death.” Nay, “he tasted of death” itself, in all its
bitterness. This is, as it were, a new reason for Christians dying —
there is a blessed necessity for it, that they may be, “ in all points,”
conformed to their Redeemer. Without this they would not be in
every respect like him. There would be a want of harmony between
them. They must follow him, not only through a sutfering life, but
through death, into heaven. This ought to reconcile them to that
event, especially when it is cohsidered that his death contains an anti¬
dote to all their fears of death. In dying they only drink of his cup,
and though they should meet with a violent and bloody death, they are
only baptised with his baptism.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST. 355

In reviewing what lias been said, several reflections naturally suggest
themselves.

Do not we perceive here a strong analogical proof of the divine origin
of the scheme of redemption which the Gospel reveals 1 For the pre¬
servation of the human body, God has established a sympathy between
the head and the several members, and by a similar bond has he linked
together the members of the great body or family of mankind, and thus
provided for their associating and being mutually helpful by bearing-
one another’s burdens. This provision we find also in the mystical body,
or family of grace, and especially in the personal and official qualifica¬
tions of Him who is constituted its life-giving and governing head.
He was made in all things like to liis brethren, not only by taking part
of the same nature with them, but by participating also of the sufferings
which they endure in it, that he might be capable of sympathising with
them, and be in all points qualified for the discharge of his office
towards them, in a merciful, considerate, and tender manner. Did it
not “ become Him for whom are all things, and by whom are all things,”
to qualify in this way the Captain of salvation, chosen by him to lead
his sons to glory 1 Say now if the God of nature and the God of grace
be not the same? Is it probable that this arrangement could have
entered into the mind of man? Could it have been conceived by
untaught and simple fishermen ? Let your minds dwell for a little
longer on this point, my brethren, and you will perceive additional
traces of a divine hand rising up. Consider the various purposes which
are accomphshed by the sufferings of Christ. By them reconciliation
was made for sin, and an offended lawgiver propitiated. By them an
example of meekness, patience, and fortitude, was left to all his followers.
And by them their Redeemer and Forerunner was fitted for sympa¬
thising with them under those adversities, which they should endure
before they come to the place which he is preparing for their reception
and eternal rest. It is a mark of superior wisdom to accomplish several
ends by one contrivance. And may we not perceive here a resemblance
to “ Heaven’s easy, artless, unencumbered plan ” in the frame and
government of the universe ?

Here also we have a confirmation of the doctrine of Scripture respect¬
ing the divine nature of our high priest and its union to ours. If this
were not true, there could be no proper meaning, or at least no real
comfort, in the declaration in our text. Christ has passed into the
heavens, which must retain him till the restitution of all things. He is
far removed from us in respect of his humanity. If he were a mere
man, how could he now sympathise with the various and innumerable
infirmities of his disciples on earth, or how could they take comfort
from being told that he was touched with the feeling for them ? But
in the light of the truth respecting his person, commonly received among
Christians, everything is easy and intelligible. As the omniscient God,

35G

SERMON IX.

lie is perfectly acquainted with their distresses ; and as clothed with our
nature, he feels for them as a friend and brother. — Wonderful conde¬
scension to our infirmities, in providing a Saviour in whom we have
every reason to confide ! Though God is essentially true, yet he has
condescended to swear, that we might have an additional confirmation
of our faith. And, though infinite in love and mercy, he has conde¬
scended to provide for us an High Priest, who, in addition to these
perfections, possesses human sympathy !

We have here one great source of relief, support, and consolation, to
Christians under their infirmities and afflictions. It is a relief to be
pitied in our distress — to see persons feeling for us — to hear from their
lips the words of sympathy, although they may not be able to remove
the cause of sorrow. And as this is in itself a great alleviation,, the
want of it is no slight aggravation of trouble. Hence Job exclaimed
feelingly, “ Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, 0 ye my friends ;
for the hand of God hath touched me.” ^ It was a fresh arrow which
went to his heart, to find that they were not touched with a feeling of
his heavy and uncommon afflictions. Hence also the complaint of
David, as the type of Christ, “ I am full of heaviness : I looked for some
to take pity on me, but there was none ; and for comforters, but I found
none.”^ A compassionate word spoken into the ear of those who were
going to the stake, has been the means of strengthening them, and
they have been refreshed with the knowledge that their friends in
the crowd, or in their own houses, were sympathising with and pray¬
ing for them. How much more refreshing and consolatory to be
persuaded that they shared the tender sympathy, never inactive nor
ineffectual, of their exalted High Priest, who was praying for them
within the vail, and strengthening them with all might by his Spirit
in the inner man !

Finally, we may see of what temper and disposition Christians ought
to be, — sympathising and compassionate. What Christ has proved
himself to be to them, they will show themselves to be to others, and
especially to their Christian brethren. This is one proof of their belong¬
ing to his mystical body. If one member of the human body suffer, all
the members suffer with it ; and so is it with the church, which is the
body of Christ. Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, holy and be¬
loved, bowels of mercies, kindness, long-suffering ; forbearing one
another, and forgiving one another, “ even as Christ forgave you, so
also do ye.” Eemember the address of the lord to the unmerciful ser¬
vant : “ Shouldst not thou also have had compassion on thy feUow-
servant, even as I had pity on thee f’® Compassion for the temporal
distresses of oiir fellow-creatures is not a sure mark of godliness ; but
the want of it is an indubitable mark of ungodliness. “ For whoso hath
this world’s good, and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up his

1 Job, xix. 21. 8 Psalms, Ixix. 20. , s Matt, xviii. 33.

THE SYMPATHY OF CHRIST.

357

bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him V'
Beware of selfishness, which contracts the heart, and renders it insen¬
sible and callous. “ Look not every man on his own things, but every
man also on the things of another.” Thus will the same mind be in
you that was also in Christ Jesus, for “he is not an high priest which
cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all
points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”

358

SERMON X.

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

“Now I beseech you, brethren, for the love of the Spirit.'" — Rom. sv. 30.

The volume of nature has the name of its author inscribed upon it, and
everywhere bears the most distinct and legible marks of his Godhead
and perfections ; but it conveys no information to us of his subsistence
in three persons. In the unity of design apparent in the works of
nature, and in the nice and admirable adaptation of all parts of the
universe to accomplish the same grand ends, which we perceive the
more clearly in proportion to the increase of our knowledge, we have a
proof of the unity of God which yields satisfaction to a plain and un¬
sophisticated understanding •, but there is nothing either in the work of
creation, or in the works of common providence, which indicates any
personal distinctions in the Godhead, or, in other words, makes knoAvn
the doctrine of the Trinity. The knowledge of this mystery we owe to
the volume of inspiration, wliich not only teaches it doctrinally, but re¬
veals and describes a work calculated to illustrate it, and to give us
clear, though necessarily, from its nature, inadequate conceptions of the
subject. Redemption is the work of one God, but of that one Being
existing according to distinct relations of an intrinsic kind, which we,
for want of a fitter wmrd, and to guard against the opinions of those who
would explain away the whole mystery, are forced to call personal.

The doctrine of the Trinity, as revealed in the Bible, is far from being
a mere speculative truth. It lies at the foundation of our hope ; our
blessedness is wrapt up “ in the love of God, the grace of the Lord J esus
Christ, and the communion of the Holy Ghost.” It is supposed in aU
acceptable worship, for “ we have access to the Father through the Son,
by one Spirit — “ our fellowship is with the Father, and his Son
Jesus Christ,” and this is the fellowship of the Spirit. And as our
worship is animated by the distinct consideration of what each person
has done .for our salvation, so the duties of obedience are enforced upon
our minds by the same consideration. Hence the apostle, in entreating
the prayers of the Christians at Rome in his behalf, employs the plea in
our text, “ for the Lord J esus Christ’s sake, and for the love of the
Spirit.”

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

359

By the “ love of the Spirit” I understand that love which the third
person of the Godhead has displayed in the economy of redemption.
Some indeed are of opinion that it refers to that brotherly love which
is the production of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of believers, and binds
them together as members of the same mystical body, so as to feel a
deep interest in one another’s welfare. Even though it should be
allowed that this was the more immediate meaning of the word in this
passage, we might still take occasion from it to speak of that love which
is the spring of all the Spirit’s operations. We judge of the qualities of
a fountain from the waters which it sends forth, and of a tree from its
fruits. “ The fruit of the Spirit is love and what must be the love
resident in and flowing from that divine Person, who is the author of
every affectionate feeling toward God or toward man ! But I apprehend
the connection in which the words stand fully justifies the other inter¬
pretation : “ I beseech you from regard to what the Lord has done for
you, and the love which the Holy Spirit has shown to you, that ye
strive together with me in your prayers to God for me.”

We often speak of the love of the Father in not sparing his Son, and
the love of the Son in giving himself for us ; and we do well, for we
cannot speak of them too often, nor with too much fervour of gratitude
and admiration. But the love of the Spirit is more rarely the topic of
public discourse or private converse, and there is reason to fear that it
is too little in our thoughts, for “ out of the abundance of the heart the
mouth speaketh.” May not this deficiency have a hurtful effect upon
Christian experience ? God draws his children to himself “ by the
cords of love,” meaning his own love ; but if one of the threads in “this
threefold cord ” be relaxed, must not the influence of divine love upon
our hearts be weakened and impaired ^ If we are deficient in this part
of Christian exercise, it assuredly does not arise from any defect in the
proofs and illustration of love on the part of this divine Agent. The
subject seems entitled to our particular attention. Let us then, trust¬
ing to the aid of the Spirit, without whom we can neither speak nor
hear aright, in the Jlrsi place, contemplate the manifestations of the love
of the Holy Ghost ; and secondly, exhibit the influence which a due
sense of this love would have on our minds and conduct.

I. Contemplate the manifestations of the love of the Spirit. The
work of redemption, or of recovering man from the ruin into which he
had fallen by his transgression, is to be traced to the spontaneous and
boundless love of God. This wonderful love is held forth as exerted in
distinct acts by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. To the Father we
ascribe, agreeably to the analogy of the word, the purpose and super¬
intendence of the plan of redemption, to the Son its purchase, and to
the Sjiirit its application. The love from which the Spirit acts is equally
divine with that from which the Father and Son act ; indeed it is the
same, for the love of God, like his will, is one. “ There is none good

360

SERMON X.

but one, that is God and this epithet is repeatedly applied to the
third Person, in an absolute sense : “ Thou gavest them thy good
Spirit” — “Thy Spirit is good.” The love of the Spirit is eternal, un¬
changeable, sovereign, independent ; and in its breadth and length, and
depth, and height, it passeth knowledge.

1. The Holy Spirit displayed his love in the readiness with which
he undertook his mission and work. We speak of the covenant of
grace as made between the Father and Son, because, in contemplation
of the Son’s assuming human nature, there was an engagement and a
promise, a work and reward. But we must not overlook the concurr
rence of the Blessed Spirit, and the delight which he took in the pros¬
pect of his work of grace and power. As the Son was sent by the
Father, so the Spirit is sent by the Father and the Son, and on this
account is called economically their Spirit ; but he was as free and
cheerful in undertaking and engaging in his work, as He who said
“Lo I come, to do thy will, 0 my God.” Wlien Jesus was about to
leave his disciples, he said, “ I will pray the Father, and he will give
you another Comforter — if I go not away the Comforter wdl not come,
but if I depart, I will send him unto you.” Observe, he is not only
said to be “ sent,” to intimate the established order of the economy of
grace, and the certainty of the gift, but he is said to “ come,” in order
to point out his willingness to engage in the work. “ When he is come,
he shall convince the world.” Hence the prayer of the Old Testament
Church : “ Awake, 0 north wind ; and come, thou south : blow upon
my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out.” ^ And hence on the
day of Pentecost, “ Suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a
mighty rushing wind, and there appeared unto them cloven tongues as
of fire, and it sat upon each of them.” These were the emblems of the
“ love of the Spirit,” in its ardour, impetuosity, and irresistible power.
And as he was voluntary in undertaking, so he is sovereign in carrying
on liis work, “ dividing severally to every man as he will.” When we
pray the Father to give us the Holy Spirit, we should remember that
he whom we ask to dwell in us is a free and independent agent. “ Up¬
hold me with thy free Spirit.”^

2. The love of the Spirit appeared in dictating the Scriptures. Saints
in every age have loved the word of God, and from the time that it
was first committed to writing, they have not ceased to take the highest
delight in reading and meditating on its contents. In the Bible they
find their meat and their drink, the life and the health of their souls.
They could not live without it, and having it they can be contented with
a slender portion. “ Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for
ever ; for they are the rejoicing of my heart. ” * The longest Psalm that
ever David composed is entirely occupied in expressing his esteem for
the written law ; there are few of his spiritual songs in which he does

1 Caut. iv. 16. 2 ps, li. 12. 3ps. cxLs;. iii.

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT. 361

not commend it ; and remember, brethren, his Bible was a small one
compared with ours.

All Scripture was given by inspiration, or dictated to the sacred p n-
men by the Spirit. “ Prophecy came not in old time by the will of man,
but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost ; ”
and as they spake they wrote. This is true, not only of prophecy strictly
so called, or the prediction of future events, but of all the contents of His
inspired volume, whether given in the form of doctrine, reproof, exhorta¬
tion, promise, or even history. Hence the formula used in quoting from
any of the books of the Old Testament, “ The Holy Ghost saith,” what¬
ever prophet was the penman. ^ Even those parts of Scripture which
proceeded immediately from the mouth of the Redeemer himself, come
to us through the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, who brought them to
the remembrance of the evangelists ; and to each of the letters which
Christ ordered his servant John to send to the seven Churches of Asia
is subjoined the same admonition : — “ He that hath an ear to hear, let
him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches. ”

Would you have a sensible sign and proof of the love of the Spirit 1
Here it is. Could there be a greater proof of love than the giving of
this Book, so stored with everything that is necessary, and able to make
wise to salvation the most simple ? There are three distinguishing
gifts of God — the gift of his Son, the gift of his Spirit, and the gift of
his Word — and as to each of them we may say “ Herein is love. ” With¬
out the Scriptures, you would have been sitting in the region and
shadow of death. Without the Scriptures, you would have known
nothing of the plan of mercy and way of salvation ; — you would never
have heard of the love of God, of the person, the undertaking, the in¬
carnation, the sacrifice, the sufferings and glory of Christ ; you would
never have heard of remission of sins, of peace with God, of the adop¬
tion of children, of the inheritance laid up in heaven. If then at any
time you have felt your consciences pacified, your difficulties cleared up,
your fears dissipated, your minds fortified against temptation, strength¬
ened for duty, or comforted in tribulation, your faith increased, your
hope quickened, your love inflamed, your patience promoted, by any¬
thing contained in this precious volume — think, oh ! think, of the “ love
of the Spirit.” Christian children, who have been taught the first
: principles of the oracles of God, think on the love of the Spirit. Chris¬
tian young men, who from your earliest years have known the Scriptures,
tlunk on the love of the Spirit. Christian fathers, who are strong because
I the word of God abideth in you, think on the love of the Spirit.

3. The love of the Spirit was manifested in preparing and endowing
[ the human nature of the Saviour. AJl the operations of the divine
Spirit in forming those holy men who were raised up for carrying on
the work of God under the Old Testament, such as Moses, and David,

1 Mark, xii 36 ; Acts, xxviii. 25 ; Heb. iii. 7, and ix. 8.

2 B

362

SERMON X.

and Solomon, Isaiah, Zemhabel, and Joshua, who were eminently fur¬
nished with gifts and graces for the faithful and wise discharge of their
important functions, were nothing compared with this. In the mira¬
culous conception, the Spirit “ created a new thing in the earth, ” bring¬
ing “ a clean thing out of an unclean,” and from a corrupt mass forming
a body which was without the least taint of, or tendency to, sin, and
thus fitted for becoming the immaculate and blessed body of the Son of
God. “ The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the
Highest shall overshadow thee ; therefore also that holy thing, which
shall be born of thee, shall be called the Son of God.” This was the
beginning of those miracles of love, which were wrought with such
heavenly profusion and prodigality during our Saviour’s abode on earth.
According to ancient predictions, the Spirit descended upon and dwelt
in that holy nature which he had formed ; “ The Spirit of the Lord shall
rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of
counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord.”
And the miracle which accompanied our Lord’s baptism held forth em¬
blematically the source, and nature, and design of this unction. “ The
heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descend¬
ing, like a dove ” (the emblem of love), “ and lighting upon him. ” In
the glorious person of the Redeemer next to the grace of union, which
is the efi'ect of the assumption of human nature by the Son of God, the
grace of unction is the most wonderful object of contemplation. “Be¬
hold my servant, whom I uphold ; mine elect, in whom my soul de-
lighteth : I have put my spirit upon him. ” If the oil poured on the
head of Aaron, which descended to the skirts of his garment, was pre¬
cious, how much more precious was this heavenly oil which was poured
on the Head, and was to descend to the meanest and least member of
the mystical body ; for God gave not the Spirit by measure to him, and
he was given to be imparted to all that believe on him. “ Thou lovest
righteousness, and hatest wickedness : therefore God, thy God, hath
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.” This was
the holy anointing oil which was poured on his sacrifice ; and as it was
through the Eternal Spirit that he offered himself without spot to God,
so was he “justified in the Spirit” by his resurrection from the dead.

4. The love of the Spirit is shown in the first visit which he pays to
the soul of a sinner, when he comes to take possession of it. When he
first enters the place of his future residence, he finds it in a very wretch¬
ed and repulsive condition. The sinner himself, habituated to his own
impurity, can form no conception of the disgust which this heavenly
visitant must feel on approaching it, and is apt to wonder at the strong
terms in which he has described it. No dungeon, at once dark and cold
and filthy, — no lazar who from the sole of the foot to the crown of the
head is covered with wounds, and bruises, and putrifying sores, — no
corpse which has lain for days in the earth, is half so loathsome to the
senses as such a soul is to the Holy Spirit, who is “ of purer eyes than

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

363

to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity.” He finds the heart dead
to all that is good, yet alive to all that is evil, the mind filled with
ignorance of God, and enmity to him, the whole man as proud as poor,
— as obstinate as foolish, — as impenitent as guilty. His first approaches
are shunned, his overtures rejected, his convictions stified, his entreaties
despised. Yet he perseveres in his gracious design, until he has con¬
quered all opposition, won the soul to Jesus Christ, and formed the
heart for a habitation to himself— “ the temple of the living God ! ”

5. The love of this blessed agent is further seen in keeping possession
of the soul. There is more love displayed in this, than in taking pos¬
session of the soul at first. We expect nothing but resistance and hos¬
tility from an enemy, but “ he that hath friends, should show himself
friendly.” Is this then what the saint evinces to his merciful deliverer?
Alas ! no. How often has the Holy Spirit reason to say, “ Is this thy
Icindness to thy friend ?” Who but the blessed guest himseK can teU
what indignities and provocations he meets with from the time that he
takes up his habitation in the heart of a believer 1 We can scarcely
read the history of the unbelieving, ungrateful, and rebellious conduct
of the Israelites in the wilderness without being provoked ; yet it is a
true picture of our own conduct : “ He gave them his good Spirit to
instruct them, but they rebelled, and vexed his Holy Spirit.” And how
often do professing Cliristians and genuine saints themselves rebel, and
vex and grieve the Spirit by their slowness of heart to understand and
believe the word which he hath spoken, and brought to their remem¬
brance, by despising the hidden manna with which he has fed their souls,
by indulging the wish to return to spiritual Sodom and Egypt, by call¬
ing in question those promises which he has sealed on their hearts, by
quenching his motions, and acting contrary to those principles which he
has implanted within them ! On these accounts he is provoked to

■ witliliold his sensible and comforting influence, and threatens to with¬
draw from them. And yet he abides with them. “ How shall I give
: thee up, Ephraim ? how shall I deliver thee, Israel ? How shall I make
thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim 1 Mine heart is turned
I within me, my repentings are kindled together.” “ Many waters can¬
not quench his love, neither can the floods drown it.”

6. We have an additional proof of the love of the Spirit in the pecu-
‘ liar work which he carries on in the hearts of believers. “ The sanctifi¬
cation of the Spirit” is the comprehensive plxrase under which his

' gracious work is held forth in Scripture. “We are bound always to
give thanks for you, brethren beloved of the Lord, because God has
I chosen you to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit.”^ The
1 blood of Jesus is the meritorious and procuring cause of our title to
: eternal life, but there is a meetness for, as weU as a title to eternal life,
! and the one as well as the other is necessary to our enjoyment of this
; beatitude. It is the work of the Spirit to renew us after the image of

364

SEEMON X.

God — to conform us to the image of his Son, to make us partakers of a
divine nature, and thus fit us for divine fellowship. And he it is who
renders all the means of producing this effectual, whether the word, or
sacraments, or prayer. “We all, with open face beholding as in a glass
the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from glory to
glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”^ Those who preach the
Gospel, or dispense the sacraments, have only a ministerial instrumen¬
tality in advancing this work of God. The Spirit is the efficient agent
and author of it. “Ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of
Christ ministered by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of
the living God.”^

There are many things comprehended in this work by which the
Spirit manifests his love. He takes of the things of Christ — his atone¬
ment and righteousness, and shows them unto believers, giving them
fellowship with the Redeemer in his death and resurrection — he sheds
abroad the love of God in their hearts — he gives them access to God
with boldness and confidence, enabling them to cry Abba Father, and
helping them in their prayers — he seals them as the chosen of the
Father, and the redeemed of the Son, and preserves them from the
allurements of the world, the temptations of Satan, and everything
which would entangle or draw them aside in their Christian course.
His residence in their hearts is an earnest of the heavenly inheritance
to which they have been predestinated, and his operations are the first
fruits of that glory which awaits them.

Here we are particularly to call to mind his character as the Com¬
forter, in which he was promised by Christ, and the manner in which
he discharges it in all the distresses, afflictions, and tribulations, outward
and inward, to which believers are exposed in the present state. In none
of these is the Comforter, who only can relieve their souls, far off. AU
the peace, and solace, and joy which they feel under their trials, and by
which they are sometimes made to glory in them, are to be traced to
this source. Hence we read of “ the comfort of the Holy Ghost,” and
“joy in the Holy Ghost.”

In fine, the Spirit manifests his love, by the termination to which he
brings his work in believers. “ He that hath begun the good work will
perfect it unto the day of Jesus Christ.” He will make their souls per¬
fect in holiness at death, and their bodies, in which he has resided here
as a temple, he will raise up at the last day, fashioning them according
to the glorious body of Christ. “ If the Spirit of him that raised up
J esus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised up Christ from the
dead shall also quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth
in you.” ^

II. I now proceed to exhibit the influence which the love of the
Spirit ought to have upon us. It is calculated to have an influence upon

1 2 Cor. iii. 18. * 2 Cor. iii 3. a Rom. viii. 11.

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

365

the whole of our life and exercise. The person who feels it,- will “ live
in the Spirit,” will “ walk in the Spirit.” There is no duty which it
will not enforce, no sin from which it will not dissuade. I shall select
a few instances by way of specimen.

1. It should excite us to love the Spirit. Love begets love ; “ we love
him because he first loved us.” Love and gratitude, as terminating on
the Holy Spirit, and created by his gracious acts, is no less a Christian
grace than love to the Father and Son. Indeed, love to the Spirit is
included in love to the Father and the Son. It is the work of the Spirit
to open up the fountain of redeeming love, and the wide and deep
channel in which it flows to sinners in all its refreshing and salutary
streams. He cannot be dishonoured, or his work be contemned, if the
Father and the Son are loved and glorified. Yet there is an honour and
a duty which we owe to him, and which ought not to be withheld.
Perhaps the behever’s experience in this matter may be illustrated by a
familiar example. If a stranger should come to any of you with the
intelligence of the safety of a son in a foreign land, whom you had given
up as dead, you would be so overjoyed with the message, and so
occupied in reading the letters, and looking on the pledges transmitted
by your absent child, that you might forget the messenger, and allow
him to stand at the door • but no sooner would the paroxysm of joy
subside, than you would recollect yourself, receive the messenger with
due respect, and load him with marks of gratitude for the kind service
which he had performed. In like manner, the believer may at first be
so rapt in the contemplation of God, even the Father who hath loved
us, and of the Son who gave himself for us, as for a time to overlook
the divine Agent who opened his eyes upon such a discovery of grace ;
but when he recollects himself, he cries out, “ Is it thou. Lord 1 Come
in, thou blessed of the Lord, why standest thou without ?”

The self-evidencing light of the Gospel, shining into the soul in the
day of conversion, may be so strong and overpowering that the person
‘ may wonder that he should ever have resisted it for a moment ; his
conviction of its truth may be so clear, and his reception of it so
' cordial, that he may be apt to overlook the supernatural agency on his
soul, and to think that he can never again call it in question. It is not
till he has lost sight of it, and relapsed into partial unbelief and dark¬
ness, that he becomes thoronghly aware that he owed his discoveries to
the illumination of the Spirit, and that this is necessary to preserve and
revive them. Then he is ready to say, “ 0 blessed Spirit, thou didst
^ visit me when I was an outcast, and lying in my blood ; I was dead in
I trespasses and sins, and thou didst quicken me ; I was blind to the
\ things which belonged to my peace, and thou didst unseal the eyes of
t my understanding ■, my heart was filled with enmity to God, and thou
' didst cleanse me in the laver of regeneration ; I was diseased as well as
loathsome, and thou didst heal all my diseases by the sprinkling of the
i blood of Jesus, and by thy precious ointments. By thy grace I am

366

SERMON X.

what I am. What shall I render unto thee for all thy benefits unto
me V’

2. It should beget love to the brethren. All true saints are in
common the offspring and workmanship of the Spirit ; and “ he who
loveth him that begat, loveth him also that is begotten of him.” There
is a union among true Christians, and this is the unity of the Spirit.
“ There is one body, and one Spirit.” “ For as the body is one, and
hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many,
are one body, so also is Christ ; for by one Spirit we are all baptised
into one body, and have been all made to drink into one Spirit.” True
believers are all united to Christ by the same Spirit. They are brought
to the knowledge of the truth, and the love of the truth, and the
comfort of the truth, by the same Spirit. By the same Spirit they live
and move, and have their being, in Christ. The love of the Spirit is, as
it were, the common blood which flows in all their veins, binding them
together as one family, and affectionately causing them to cleave to
and sympathise with one another. “If there be any consolation in
Christ, if any comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, be like-
minded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind.” In
vain do we pretend to the Spirit, if we have bitter envying and strife
dwelling in us ; for the love of the Spirit cannot dwell with these
malevolent passions : but “ if we love one another, God dwelleth in us ;
and hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the Spirit which he hath
given us.”

3. It should encourage us to depend upon and apply for the
influences of the Spirit. Without him we can do nothing ; he works
in us both “ to wiU and to do of his good pleasure.” Everything that
is good about any person — faith, love, purity, patience — is of his produc¬
tion. When a Christian thinks of the duties incumbent upon him,
their number and importance, and at the same time reflects on his own
weakness, he is ready to exclaim, “ Who is sufficient for these things ? ”
In such circumstances let him think of the love of the Spirit, and that
he is not only able but willing to “ do for us exceeding abundantly
above all that we ask or think.”

The Spirit is promised, and we are encouraged to pray the Father for
him. “If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your
children, how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy
Spirit to them that ask him.” 0 ! is not this encouraging, that so far
from being reluctant to the work, he is as ready to go as the Father or
the Son is to send ?

Christians complain of their unfitness for duty, and they sometimes
make this an excuse for neglecting it. There might have been some
show of reason in this excuse, had not God made such rich and suitable
provision to relieve our necessities, and help our infirmities. You are
unfit for duty, even indisposed to it ? Granted ; but is not the Spirit
able “ to strengthen you with all might in the inner man ? ” And is he

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

367

not willing, and waiting for employment 1 Have you applied to him
particidarly 1 If not, you have not received, and justly, because you
have not asked. Or if you have asked, you have not asked in the faith
of Ins love ; you have had doubts of this, and these doubts have pre¬
vented you from relying on his influences.

4. It should excite us to abound in prayer. It is in reference to this
duty that the Apostle in our text avails himself of the argument from
the love of the Spirit. “ I beseech you, brethren, for the love of the
Spirit, that ye strive together with me in your prayers to God for me.”
There is a twofold argument here : one bearing on the duty of praying
for one another, founded on the Spirit’s being the bond of union among
aU the members of the mystical body, which we have already adverted
to ; the other bearing on prayer in general, whether for ourselves or
others. This implies that the consideration of the love of the Spirit is
a great inducement to prayer. And how ? Because one way in which
he manifests his love is by assisting us in our addresses to the throne of
grace. On this account he is called the “ Spirit of supplications,” ‘ and
is said to help our infirmities in this duty. “The Spirit also helpeth
our infirmities ; for we know not what we should pray for as we
ought ; but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings
which cannot be uttered.” ^

He sheds abroad the love of God in the heart, and thereby
encourages us to come to him, as our heavenly Father. Clirist by
his mediation has procured access for us to God ; the Spirit gives us
access by discovering to us the living way consecrated by the blood of
Christ, and powerfully brings us near : “ through Christ we have access
by one Spirit unto the Father.” The Holy Spirit is promised in the
character of a Comforter, or, as the word also signifies, a patron or
advocate. What rich and superabundant provision has a God of grace
made for us in the new covenant ! How inexcusable, if we do not come
to the throne of grace ! We have an advocate without us, and within
us, in heaven and in our own breasts. It is a great encouragement to
prayer that we have in Christ an advocate with the Father, who is
ready to present our petitions and to obtain a hearing for us. But is
it not an additional incentive that in the Holy Spirit we have one who
will draw up our petitions, and help us to put them into the hands of
Christ 1 And this last is agreeable to the will of God, as well as the
former : “And he that searcheth the hearts, knoweth what is the mind
of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to
the will of God.” ®

How great an encouragement to prayer this is, those only know who
have felt enlargement of heart and confidence in prayer, and who have
also felt the want of these. Formerly they were dragged or driven to
the throne of grace by conscience, or the urgency of external circum¬
stances ; now they come to it of their own accord and cheerfully.

1 Zech. xii. 10.

3 Rom. viii. 27.

* Rom. viii. 26.

368

SERMON X.

Formerly they thought it enough that they prayed publicly and at
stated times ; now they embrace every opportunity of engaging in the
exercise, and “ pray always.” Formerly their prayers were formal and
cold, now they pour out their hearts to God, order their cause before
him, and fill their mouths with arguments. This is prayer — “ praying
in the Holy Ghost.”

5. It should make us careful to avoid everything that may grieve the
Spirit. We are uncommonly tender of offending a person who has done
us a kindness, and will deny ourselves many things which are agree¬
able from an apprehension that our indulging in them would grieve
him. The very expression “grieving the Spirit,” points to his love.
An enemy is provoked if we injure him, and he is gratified if he see us
injuring ourselves ; it is a friend only — one who really loves us, and
wishes our welfare — who can \)Q grieved at our improper conduct. Unre-
•generated persons vex the Spirit ; believers grieve him. “ Grieve not the
Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye are sealed unto the day of redemption.” ^

A persuasion and feeling of the love of the Spirit will dispose
believers to act in such a way as is pleasing to him, and to avoid every¬
thing which grieves him. Nor is it difficult to know what pleases him
on the one hand, or what offends him on the other. Saints know it by
a divine instinct — the Spirit witnesses to it with their spirit. The
fruit of the Spirit and the works of the flesh are as much opposed as
light and darkness. All sin is displeasing to him, but there are some
.sins which are eminently offensive in his sight. He is the “good
Spirit,” and therefore all wrath, malice, and envy are opposed to him.
He is “ the Spirit of truth,” and therefore all falsehood and lying are
dishonouring to him. He is “the Holy Spirit,” and therefore all
impurity in heart, speech, and behaviour are offensive to him. You
will see all these sins warned against, as grieving to the Spirit, in the
fourth chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians.

This subject affords matter of self-examination and exhortation. Let
me ask you what know ye of the love of the Spirit ? There are persons
present, I am afraid, who have no part or lot in this matter, who “ have
not so much as heard whether there be any Holy Ghost ” ^ — who never
saw any need for his gracious influences — who never were concerned to
obtain them ; who never read or prayed, or performed any other duty
in the Spirit. “ These be they who are sensual, having not the Sjjirit,” »
Let such consider the solemn declaration of an inspired vuiter, “ If any
man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.” * Those who are
strangers to the work of the Spirit are strangers to the work of the
Saviour. All who are in Christ, and to whom there is no condemna¬
tion, “ walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.”

But though you know him not, you have to do with him, and he with
you. He speaks to you in the Scriptures, he speaks to you by the preach-

1 Eph. iv. 30. * Acts, lix. 2. s Jude, 19. Rom. viii. 9.

THE LOVE OP THE SPIRIT.

369

ing of the gospel, which is the “ ministration of the Spirit.” The apostle
Peter tells us, that “ Christ was put to death in the flesh, but quickened
by the Spirit, by which also he went and preached to the spirits in
prison, which sometime were disobedient, when the long-sufl'ering of
God waited in the days of Noah.” The inhabitants of the antediluvian
world thought that they had to do only with Noah, and that it was easy
for them to contend with him, and despise his warnings and exhorta¬
tions. But it turned out at last that they had been resisting one infin¬
itely greater : “ The Lord said. My Spirit shall not always strive with
man ; ” and this added greatly to their sin and condemnation.' This
was the great sin of the Israelites in the wilderness, and it is still the sin
of gospel despisers ; “ Ye stitf-necked and uncircumcised in heart and
ears, ye do always resist the Holy Ghost.” There are two things which
aggravate the guilt of the finally unbelieving and impenitent under the
gospel, and render their doom unspeakably more dreadful than that of
the heathen. First, they have despised and repudiated the love of God
manifested in the death of his Son ; and, secondly, they have resisted
and quenched the motions of the Holy Spirit, and poured contempt
upon his love in the application of redemption. “ Of how much sorer
punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden
under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant,
wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite
unto the Spirit of grace 1 ” Contemptuous resistance of the motions of
the Holy Spirit is the crowning part of their sin. And justly so ; for
(and this is the reason why the sin against the Holy Ghost is irremissible)
it is an offence against the love of God in the last and the most ample
display of it. 0 bring not down this fearful doom upon your head,
gospel hearer ! — and there is only one way in which you can avert it, by
yielding to the call of the gospel, and believing on the name of the Son
of God. Whither can you go from the Spirit of God, or flee from his
presence 1 Though you should resolve never to hear another sermon,
never again to open a Bible, though you should resolve to leave a land
of gospel privileges, and hide yourself in the darkest thicket of heath¬
enism, you would carry in your bosom, like the stricken deer, the arrow
of conviction and death. You have heard of a Saviour, and have re¬
jected him ; you have become the subject of the Spirit’s calls, and have
resisted them. But my text leads me to employ the allurements of
the gospel, rather than the terrors of the law. “I beseech you by
the love of the Spirit ” to comply with the calls of grace — to come to
the Saviour. “ The Spirit and the bride say. Come ; and let him that
is athirst come; and whosoever will, let him come, and take of the
waters of life freely.”

Believers should not be contented with owning the nature and work
of the Spirit ; they should seek to know and believe his love, to taste
that he is gracious. Have you ever had the love of God shed abroad in
your heart, Christian'? Has Christ been precious to you '2 Has the

370

SERMON X.

word been sweet to your taste ? Have you had freedom at the throne of
grace ? Have you been made to eat at a communion-table of the things
wherewith the atonement was made ? Have you been comforted under
affliction 1 These are just the fruits of the Spirit, and the evidences of
his love. Lay open your hearts to his benign influences ; cherish his
motions, and honour the Spirit, even as you honour the Father and the
Son. Let others scoff' at the doctrine of divine influences, and the in¬
habitation of the Spirit, as the effect of enthusiasm ; “ but ye, beloved,
building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy
Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our
Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.”

Finally, let us be instructed where to look for the cure and rectifica¬
tion of all the evils which afflict the Church in our day ! — to the love of
the Spirit. By our misimprovement and abuse of our privileges, by our
unchristian temper and carriage, by our^ worldly spirit and untender
conversation, we have provoked the Spirit to withdraw from us, and
the^consequence has been that the glory has departed from our Israel,
and ordinances have become in a great measure inefficacious and unsuc¬
cessful. “ Wlio hath believed our report, and to whom hath the arm of
the Lord been revealed “i ” Who is convinced of sin 1 Who cries out,
“ What must I do to be saved ^ ” Who receives the word gladly 1 Who
brings forth fruit to perfection 1 Where are the fruits of the gospel,
even where it is purely preached 1 “ Woe is me ! for I, am as when they
have gathered the summer-fruits, as the grape gleanings of the vintage :
there is no cluster to eat ; my soul desired the first-ripe fruit. The
good man is perished out of the earth ; and there is none upright
among men. ” ^ Our carelessness, our conformity to the world, and
our mournful divisions, have wasted and nearly consumed the vitals of
true Christianity, and left us little more than a spiritless and unsightly
skeleton. “ Our leanness, our leanness, woe unto us ! the treacheroiis
dealers have dealt treacherously ; yea, the treacherous dealers have dealt
very treacherously. ” ^

Yet there is hope in the love of the Spirit. It is divine, and there¬
fore infinite, sovereign, and free. He is God, and not man ; he will turn
again, he will have compassion upon us ; he will subdue our iniquities,
and cast all our sins into the depths of the sea. Let us lament after
the Lord, the Spirit, and implore his return. Come from the four
winds, 0 breath of the Lord, and breathe upon the slain that they may
live ! Wilt thou not revive us again, that we may rejoice in thee ? The
love of the Spirit shed abroad in the heart would quicken, and restore,
and soften, and sanctify. It would correct all the evils among us, pri¬
vate and public. It would remove all grounds of division, and, what is
more difficult still, it would remove all that spirit of alienation, and
enmity, and jealousy, which our controversies have engendered, even in

iMicah, vii. 1. 2 iga. xxiv. 16.

THE LOVE OF THE SPIRIT.

371

the hearts of those who have been contending for truth and purity. It
would be like oil poured upon the waters of strife, stilling the noise of
their waves, and the tumult which they have excited. It would induce
the contending parties to confess their faults one to another, or rather
bring both to their knees before God, in joint confession, and inspire
them with a holy emulation to strive who should be first in repairing
the desolations of Zion, and in bringing back the King of the Church
to his own house.

372

SERMON XL

CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

“ And what I say unto you, I say unto all, Watch.” — Mark, xiii. 37.

In the word of God every duty is enjoined and enforced by suitable
motives ; but you must have observed that certain duties are more
frequently introduced, and dwelt upon with greater particiilarity and
earnestness, than others. They are stated and re-stated, enjoined and
re-enjoined, enforced and illustrated, in such a manner as to impress
them on our memories and imaginations, as well as on our hearts and
consciences. From this we have reason to conclude, either that they
are of superior importance, intrinsically or relatively, or else that we
are in peculiar danger of overlooking and forgetting them. Of this
description is the duty inculcated in the text. It is often brought for¬
ward in the discourses of our Lord, who has enforced it by examples,
and illustrated it by parables. He enforced it by the history of the
inhabitants of the old world, and of Sodom and Gomorrah ; and he
illustrated it by the parable of the ten virgins, and, in the passage before
us, by the parable of the lord of a household, who, on undertaking a far
journey, assigned to all his servants their several employments, and
commanded the porter to watch.

He “ commanded the porter to watch.” This does not merely mean
« that, in allotting to each in the family his specific task, he ordered
them to keep the door and preserve the house from the invasion of
thieves and robbers, but it intimates that he kept the time of his re¬
turn a secret, enjoining the porter to be ready to open to him on what¬
ever night, and at whatever hour of the night, he might arrive ; so that
the charge to the porter was a warning to the whole household — to
those who were in authority, and to those who were under authority :
to the former, that they should not become unfaithful, extravagant, of
tyrannical ; to the latter, that they should not prove careless, idle, or
unruly, lest their master should come upon them unawares, and find
them in fault. Thus, what he said to one of them — the porter — he said
to all. It was as much as if he had gone round the whole, and said to
each. Watch, watch, watch. This, at least, is the application which
our Lord makes of the parable. “ Watch ye, therefore ; for ye know

CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

373

not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or
at the cock-crowing, or in the morning ; lest, coming suddenly, he find
you sleeping.” The words of the text may he viewed as an answer to
the question which Peter asked — “ Lord, speakest thou this parable to
us, or even to all 1” It is particularly addressed to those who are watch¬
men by office in the church ; but not to them exclusively. What is
primarily addressed to the angels of the churches, is spoken to all in the
churches. He that hath an ear to hear, let him hear ; for to him it is
said. Watch.

I propose, first, to explain, and then to enforce, the duty of Christian
watchfulness.

I. To watch is, literally, to keep from sleep ; and it has come to
signify, metaphorically, to apply the mind to anything with great care,
diligence, and intensity.

1. Christian watchfulness, or vigilance, is that state of mind by which
we are prepared to seize every opportunity of doing our duty, and to
discover and avoid every impediment in the way of this. It does not
lie in any particular exercise of the mind, like believing, loving, hoping ;
but it is a settled frame or posture of the soul, capacitating it for put¬
ting forth these and other exercises in the best manner, according to
circumstances. It is not confined to looking out for the coming of
Christ to us at death and judgnient. We are to “ watch in all things,” i
“ watch unto prayer,” and other duties, and watch against temptation.

To be a Christian is one thing ; to be a vigilant Christian is another.
A man, though alive, may be asleep, and his property may become the
prey of the thief when he is in this state as easily as if he were dead ;
and as one may be alive without being lively, so one may be awake
without being wakeful. Christian vigilance is combined with wisdom,
producing a perspicacity or quick understanding in matters of judg¬
ment, and a circumspection in matters of practice. “ See that ye walk
circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise ; wherefore be ye not unwise,
but understanding what the will of the Lord is.”^ Diligence and vigi¬
lance are closely connected in the Christian life, but they are not the
same. Diligence is mere activity. A man may be busily employed,
and yet to very little purpose, or in a way different from that in which
he ought to be employed. Vigilance has a special respect to the
occasions and opportunities of action, which it enables to discover
and improve.

■ The husbandman is vigilant when he observes and improves the
proper seasons of ploughing, sowing, reaping, and other agricultural
employments. The merchant is vigilant when he seizes on the proper
times for buying and selling, for laying in and disposing of his stock.
Tlie man of business, whatever his employment may be, is vigilant
when he looks well into his affairs, examines his books, strikes his

^ 2 Tim. iv. 5. ^ Eph.. v. 15 — 17. ^

374

SEKMON XI,

balance, and ascertains exactly whether, and to what extent, he is gain¬
ing or losing. The soldier is vigilant when he observes the motions of
the enemy, guards against surprise, and embraces the most favourable
opportunity for an attack. The mariner is vigilant when he is pre¬
pared to take advantage of wind and tide, and cautiously avoids the
rocks and shoals to which his vessel is exposed. The Christian is vigi¬
lant when he exercises every grace, performs every duty, and waits on
every ordinance in its proper season ; when he is aware of the sin that
easily besets him, and keeps his eye on the temptations to which he is
peculiarly exposed ; when he walks wisely, warily, circumspectly ;
when, guarding against extremes, he joins trembling with his mirth in
prosperity, and mingles joy with his sorrow in the day of affliction ;
when, sensible of the value of time, he redeems it by improving the
precious moments to the best purposes ; when he is ready to turn every
event which befalls himself or others to his spiritual improvement ;
and, in fine, when knowing the uncertainty of life and its enjoyments,
he stands prepared, or endeavours to prepare himself, for eternity. This
is Christian watchfulness.

2. Christian watchfulness is a duty of great importance. You may
have some idea of its extent from the general description which we
have just given. It reaches to all our internal exercises and aU our
external actions. It keeps the gracious dispositions in action, and the
corrupt dispositions in check. It maintains an animating superintend¬
ency over both the natural and the spiritual senses. It makes the
Christian “ready to every good work and is a chief means to “pre¬
serve him from every evil work.” Would you recover from the spir¬
itual decline into which you have fallen ? “ Be watchful ; and
strengthen the things which remain and are ready to die.”^ Would
you preserve your spiritual attainments ? “ Look to yourselves, that
ye lose not the things which ye have wrought, but that ye receive a
full reward.”^

The occupation of a porter or door-keeper is inferior in respectability
to other offlces in a great establishment ; but the duty intrusted to
him is nevertheless of great importance. His negligence lays the house
open to every intruder. If the sentinel falls asleep at his post, the
whole army may be surprised and cut of. If the man stationed at the
gate is unfaithful, the fortress may be taken without assault, and the
whole garrison put to the sword. A man ignorant of the management
of a ship, when he sees all hands busily at work — some climbing the
mast, others hoisting the sails, and others plying at the pump, will be
apt to look on the pilot as a lazy supernumerary who spends his time
in gazing idly at the stars, and amusing himself with turning a piece of
timber from side to side ; not aware that this man’s services are of all
others the most essential to the progress of the vessel on her way, and
to the safety of all who are on board. In like manner, though there

1 Kev. iii. 2, * 2 John, 8.

CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

375

are Christian graces and duties which are of greater dignity, vigilance
is of the greatest utility. Your faith, Christians, will fail, your hope
languish, your love wax cold, if your vigilance be relaxed. Your know¬
ledge will puff you up, your confidence will become presumptuous, your
humility distrustful, if you slacken your vigilance. You will flag in
prayer, and be weary in well-doing — the slightest temptation will be an
overmatch for you, — and though strong as Samson, you will become
weak as any other man, if in an evil hour your vigilance be laid asleep.
Vigilance is the sentinel of the soul, which guards all the graces and
excites them to activity. It is like the watchman going his rounds
announcing the hours as they pass, telling “ what of the night,” pro¬
claiming that aU is well, or sounding an alarm at the appearance of
danger.

3. If you would comply with the exhortation in the text, you must
avoid everything which induces unwatchfulness. Indulgence in any
sin has this effect. It acts as an opiate on conscience, grieves the
Spirit, and produces carnal security. Intemperance in sensual pleasures
is in a special manner to be avoided, as it has an equal tendency to in¬
flict a bodily and a spiritual stupor. Of the sober Christian it may be
said, “ He sleeps, but his heart wakes the reverse is true of the in¬
temperate man. Hence the admonition of our Savioiir : “ Take heed
to yourselves lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeit¬
ing and drunkenness, and that day come upon you unawares.” “ Let
us not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober.” Unless you
“ be sober,” you cannot “ be watcliful.” Those of other occupations can
make a shift to perform their tasks, though they are not patterns of
sobriety ; but a watchman must be sober. A single instance of in¬
toxication will cost liim his post ; in time of war it will cost a sentinel
his life. Eemember, too, that a slight degree of intemperance will be
sufficient to banish spiritual vigilance. It is not necessary to this that
you become a drunkard, or even that you be drunken. You may retain
the use of your natural senses, and yet lose the use of your spiritual
senses ; you may be capable of performing your civil duties, and yet be
incapable of performing religious duties ; you may be able to converse
with your fellow-creatures, and yet be very unfit for conversing with
your God ; you may see and avoid the stone which lies before your
feet, and yet fall headlong over the stumblingblock of iniquity ; you
may be able to ward off the blow aimed at your body, while your better
part is left unshielded and exposed to the fiery darts of the wicked.

If you would be vigilant, you must also guard against anxious and
distracting solicitude about the world, which carries away the mind
from spiritual tMngs, and leads it into temptation before we are aware.
Though temperate in meat and drink, and every other corporeal enjoy¬
ment, yet your thoughts may be so engrossed with secular concerns,
with your lawful employments, that you are quite absent in spirit at a
throne of grace, and when sitting in the house of God as his people sit,

376

SERMON XI.

your hearts may be going after their covetousness. Hence our Lord, in
assigning the reasons why the day of the Son of Man comes upon some
unawares, joins “ the cares of this life ” with intemperance. Self-con¬
fidence has also a great tendency to throw a Christian off his guard.
This was the cause of Peter’s unwatchfulness and fall ; and it seems
to have exerted a dangerous influence, along with “ the pride of life,”
on the minds of his two brethren, the sons of Zebedee. To the question
of their Master, “Are ye able to drink of the cup that I drink ofl”
they replied boldly and inconsiderately, “ We are able and yet they
“ could not watch with him one hour.” “ Let him that thinketh he
standeth take heed lest he fall.” In fine, you should guard against im¬
moderate grief. Whatever oppresses the body or exhausts the animal
spirits, brings on drowsiness and sleep. When Jesus returned to the
three disciples in the garden, he found them “ sleeping for sorrow.”
A paroxysm of grief is sometimes succeeded by a fit of lethargy. Nor
is this confined to sorrow for worldly losses and calamities. Even grief
for sin may be carried to excess ; and we ought to comfort ourselves
and others by the doctrine of forgiveness and its uses, “lest being
swallowed up of overmuch sorrow, Satan should get an £|dvantage of us,
for we are not ignorant of his devices.” ^

4. Be diligent in those duties which have a tendency to keep you
watchful. If a person sit down and fold his hands, he becomes drowsy.
If the watchman were to seat himself in his sentry-box, he would be in
danger of falling asleep, and therefore he keeps himself awake by walk¬
ing about. It is the same in the spiritual as in the natural world. This
is the reason why the duty in our text is so often connected with prayer.
“ Watch and pray, that ye enter not in temptation.” “ Watch ye and
pray always.” And in the words preceding the text, “ Take ye heed,
watch and pray.” We are to watch that we may pray, and to pray that
we may be kept watching. Had the disciples imitated the example of
their Master, they would not have proved disobedient to his command,
— “ Watch ye here, while I go and pray yonder.” Nor is prayer the only
remedy against unwatchfulness. Give yourselves to reading, to medita¬
tion, to praise. Warning the Christians at Ephesus against being dn;nk
with wine, the apostle adds, “ but be filled with the Spirit, speaking to
yourselves in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.” Carnal men, when
heg-ted with wine, keep themselves awake and make merry, by singing
profane and lewd songs ; Christians are to express their joy by singing
praises unto God. Though you are to maintain a becoming consistency
of behaviour, your exercise will not be monotonous and wearisome, but
varied according to your circumstances and the calls of Providence. “Is
any among you afflicted 1 let him pray. Is any merry 1 let him sing
psalms.” Christian converse is another means of preserving vigilance.
When two persons watch together, they keep one another awake by
conversation, and were Christians to speak to one another about spiritual

1 2 Cor. ii. 7—11.

CHRISTIAN WATCPIFULNESS.

377

things more frequently and more frankly than they do, they would be
i in less danger of unwatchfulness. “ Consider one another, to provoke
j unto love and to good works ; not forsaking the assembling of ourselves
together, as the manner of some is, but exhorting one another ; and so
much the more, as ye see the day approaching."

Nor are we to exclude activity in secular duties from the means of
preserving us in this frame of spirit. Slothfulness, in all its forms, is
the enemy of Christian vigilance. If the devil find a man idle, he will
set him to work, or else lay him asleep. It was when Joseph went into
the house, in the discharge of his duty, that when his chastity was
attacked, he withstood the temptation: David feU before the same
temptation, when “he abode at Jerusalem, and walked on the roof of
the king’s house,” unmindful that the ark was lodged in a tent, and
that his servants were encamped in the open fields. Be “ diligent in
business,” if you would be “fervent in spirit ;” for it is only by obeying
both injunctions, that you will be found faithfully “ serving the Lord.”
Under the influence of supefstitious and mistaken notions, some have
kept frequent and protracted vigils, or spent the greater part of their
time in meditation, prayer, and other religious duties, to the neglect of
their secular duties in the family or the world, or to the injury of their
bodily health and animal spirits. This error, in the way of excess,
though less frequent among us, ought to be avoided as well as the oppo¬
site extreme. Besides necessary employments of a worldly kind, there
are lawful and innocent recreations, the moderate indulgence of which,
so far from injuring, tends to promote spiritual watchfulness. The
watchman must have his due hours of rest ; and in the present life the
soul can no more continue in a healthful and vigorous state without
relaxation, than the body can without sleep. I may add, that it is a
mistake to suppose that Christian vigilance consists in keeping the
mind constantly and intensely fixed on death and judgment. This
would unfit you for living, and for consecrating your lives to the glory
of God. You should think of them as a traveller thinks of home, in
such a way as to induce him to push forward on his journey, and
despatch his business ill the several towns and villages on the road,
with all due diligence and convenient expedition.

5. You must watch in dependence on divine keeping. While dutifi.il
in keeping your hearts with all diligence, and in exciting them to vigi¬
lance, you need to commit yourselves “ unto liim that is able to keep you
from falling, and to present you faultless.” To the heart may weU be
applied the words of the Psalmist : “ Except the Lord keep the city,
the watchman waketh in vain.” The most vigilant person may be
thrown off' his guard, or overpowered with sleep, and so be taken by
surprise. What a privilege is it, and what an encouragement ought it
to be to unremitting diligence, that we have an ever-watcliful and faith¬
ful friend to pray for us, that our faith fail not in the hour of trial, and
to ward off danger from us when we are in those states of body or mind

2 c

378

SEEMON XI.

which incapacitate us for using the means of protection. “ Commit thy
way unto the Lord, trust also in him, and he will bring it to pass. He
will not suffer thy foot to he moved ; he that keepeth thee will not
slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor
sleep. The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil : he shall preserve
thy soul.”

II. Having explained the duty, I shall endeavour to enforce it by a
few considerations.

1. You have vigilant adversaries. You live in an evil and ensnaring
world, like the wilderness through which Israel was made to pass, “ a
land of deserts and of pits, wherein were fiery serpents and scorpions.” ^
You live in the midst of enemies who wait for your halting, and are
ever ready to take advantage of the least instance of precipitation or
inadvertence in your conduct. It becomes you to take heed to your
ways, and to set a watch before your mouth, because of observers,
including not only the openly wicked, but also false brethren, unawares
brought into your fellowship, who come in privily to spy out your
liberty, and to whom you should be careful to afford no occasion of
slander or reproach against your good profession. And at the head of
all your adversaries is one, who is experienced in wiles as he is inveter¬
ate in malice and cruelty. “ Be sober, be vigilant ; for your adversary
the devil goeth about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.”

2. You have weak and deceitful hearts, easily intimidated, and easily
seduced. Surely that fortress ought to be guarded with double care
which is surrounded by a powerful enemy, and has inmates who are
disposed to open the gates to the besiegers through cowardice or
treachery. Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil
heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God.” “ He that trust-
eth in his own heart is a fool.”

3. Consider what you have to lose. Hot worldly wealth, or honour,
or life ; but your souls, an incorruptible inheritance, a crown of life
that facleth not away, eternal glory ; the precious seed of the word sown
in your hearts, the grace of God, your peace of mind, your reputation,
attainments, and experiences. In one unguarded moment you may
throw away the fruit of the toils, and sufferings, and sacrifices of many
years ; and though you should find mercy to recover, and bring you to
repentance, you will lay up matter for long regret and bitter sorrow.
How many favourable seasons do we lose by unwatclffulness ! oppor¬
tunities of doing good to others, and of promoting our own spiritual
advantage, which, when allowed to slip, never return ! How quick-
sighted is the watchman, and how correct the report which he makes :
“ He cried, A lion : My lord, I stand continually upon the watch-tower
in the day time, and I am set in my ward whole nights ; and, behold,
here cometh a chariot of men, with a couple of horsemen ; — a chariot of

1 Jer. ii. 6 ; Deut. viii. 15.

CHRISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

379

asses, and a chariot of camels ; and he hearkened diligently with much
heed.” i If the King of Israel was surprised, it was not the fault of his
servant, who said, “ I see a company ; and the driving is like the driving
of Jehu the son of Kimshi ; for he driveth furiously.” 2

4. Consider your profession, privileges, and prospects. You profess
to be of God, to have renounced this world, and to have become the
followers of Christ Jesus. You have enlisted under the banners of the
Captain of salvation, and sworn allegiance to him. You have set out
fair, and run well. “ Now is your salvation nearer than when you
believed.” The reward set before you is unspeakably glorious, and
your encouragements high. You have exceeding great and precious
promises, and examples of the noblest and most animating kind.
Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider
Christ Jesus, and the great cloud of witnesses with which ye are com¬
passed about. Watch ye ; stand fast in the faith ; quit you like men ;
be strong.

5. Consider that ye^have an omniscient eye continually upon you. We
may contrive to escape or conceal ourselves from the scrutiny and obser¬
vation of friends and foes — of parents, ministers, fellow-Christians, and,
what is still more difficult, of Satan ; but there is one eye which we
cannot elude, and which is fixed upon us every moment, by night and
by day, in solitude and in society, in the church and in the world. O
that we could live under the habitual belief and impression of this
strange but undoubted truth ! Then would there be little danger of
our falling into slothfulness and carnal security. “ These things saith the
Son of God, who hath his eyes like unto a flame of fire ; I know thy
works : be watchful.”

6. You know not how soon you may be called upon to give in your
accounts, and to appear before the bar of your Judge. This solemn
consideration is often brought forward as an enforcement to the exhort¬
ation in our text. It is repeatedly urged in the context, “ But of that
day and that hour knoweth no man. Take ye heed ; watch and pray ;
for ye know not when the time is. Watch ye therefore; for ye know
not when the Master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight,
or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning, lest, coming suddenly, he
find you sleeping.” And in the book of Revelation he saith : “ Behold,
I come as a thief. Blessed is he that watcheth, and keepeth his gar¬
ments.” That “ we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,
to give an account of the deeds done in the body,” is a most undoubted
truth, and a truth which ought to excite us to unwearied diligence and
unremitting watchfulness. Such was its effect on the minds of the
apostles ; and should it exert a weaker influence on ours 1 “ It is
appointed to men once to die, and after death the judgment.” We know
not what time shall elapse between our death and the general judg¬
ment ; but we know that no change can take place on our state for

1 Isa. xxi. 7, 8,9. 2 2 Kings, ix. 1 7, 20.

380

SERMON XI.

eternity between these two periods ; so that, as to all practical pur¬
poses, we should view them as coincident. How solicitous, then, should
we be to be ready for this event, though we were assured that our lives
should extend to threescore and ten, or fourscore years !

But have we any security for this ? Ah, no ! So far from it, nothing
is more uncertain. We know not the hour, the day, or the year. This
is carefully concealed from us ; and why ? For this, among other
reasons, that we may watch, and be always ready. How many striking
and loud warnings of the uncertainty of time do we receive in the
course of Providence, by the sudden removal, not only of the aged, the
infirm, and sickly, but of the young, the healthy, and the strong — our
equals or juniors — our intimate acquaintance — those who had spoken to
us the word of the Lord, or to- whom we had spoken it, who had less
appearance of being dying men than many of us have, and perhaps had
as httle thought of dying as the most careless person present has at this
moment ! In such events the Lord’s voice crieth, and the men of wisdom
understand it. But, alas ! where are they 1 How few hear the rod, and
him that hath appointed it ! Such warnings, when they occur, form
the subject of talk — often vain, idle, and unprofitable talk — for a little;
but within a few days, a few short days, they are forgotten, and the
thoughts of preparation for death are lost in the bustle of worldly
business, perhaps drowned in the intoxicating cup of pleasure. We are
like persons in a deep sleep, who have been roused by a sudden noise :
they start up, gaze round, and eagerly listen. But the noise has ceased :
they lay themselves down again, and sink into a profounder sleep than
that from which they had been awakened.

In this manner some sleep on until they “ open their eyes in heU,
being in torments — open their eyes to shut them no more for ever, in
a state in which they shall invoke sleep, but it shall fly from them.
Others may be aroused by the harbingers of the king of terrors, but,
like the foolish virgins in the parable, too late for the preparations
which they require, and so distracted with terrors that they “ cannot
find their hands.” Even genuine Christians, in consequence of their
being sinfully off their guard, may be taken by surprise, thrown into
alarm, and hurried in great confusion into the presence of their Lord,
like persons overtaken by a storm, and caught up by the whirlwind,
who are amazed to find themselves, they know not how, in a place of
refuge and safety.

What is the improvement which we should make of such warnings 1
Surely, to be ready for the call whenever it may be addressed to us.
And this preparation is twofold — habitual and actual — as to state
and as to exercise. That person is habitually prepared for death who
has acquainted himself with God and is at peace with him, whose sin is
pardoned, whose nature is renewed, and who has a relish for the enjoy¬
ments of heaven. That person is actually prepared who knows whom
he has believed, who is living near unto God, maintaining intercourse

CHKISTIAN WATCHFULNESS.

381

with heaven by faith and prayer, who is occupying the talents which
God hath given him to his glory, and doing the work which God hath
assigned him.

Christ says “ Watch therefore : for ye know not what hour your Lord
doth come.”^ And again, to the same persons he says; “Be ye also
ready : for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.” ^
This intimates that more is necessary than watchfulness. We wake in
vain unless we make ready. We have our Lord to attend, and must be
attired — we have a cause to be tried, and must have it ordered — we
have a reckoning to make, and must have our accounts prepared — Ave
have an inheritance to receive, and must be meet for it.

“ Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall
give thee light.” He is the resurrection and the life ; and the hour now
is, when under the Gospel “the dead shall hear his voice and live.”
Turn not a deaf ear to his entreating voice, lest he give you up, and
say to you, “ Sleep on now, and take your rest.” Resist not, quench
not the motions of the good Spirit of God, lest, grieved and wearied out,
he withdraw from you.

Let not the saints sleep as do others. A^vake to righteousness.
Cast off that sluggishness which may have fallen on your spirits.
Carelessness, lukewarmness, and security, are highly unbecoming those
who are the people of God and heirs of glory. “ Now it is high time to
awake out of sleep : for now is our salvation nearer than when we
believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand ; let us therefore
cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.”
I do not call on you to entertain or give way to a slavish fear of death ;
from this Christ died to deliver you. But keep your death in your eye ;
look it in the face ; meditate on it : — and remember that while it is of
all things the most certain, yet as to the time of it nothing is more
awfully uncertain. Let your loins be girt, and your lamps burning.
“ For they that sleep, sleep in the night ; and they that be drunken are
drunken in the night. But let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting
on the breastplate of faith and love ; and for an helmet the hope of
salvation. For God hath not appointed us to wrath, but to obtain
salvation by our Lord J esus Christ.” ®

1 Mat. xxiv. 32.

2 Mat. xxiv. 44.

3 1 Thes. V. 7, 8, 9.

382

SEKMON XIL

THE FEAK OF DEATH. i

“ And deliter them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to

bondage,” — Heb. ii. 15.

There may be a tacit allusion in the preceding verse to the deliver¬
ance of the Israelites from the danger to which they were exposed on
the night before they left Egypt. “ Through faith,” says the apostle in
another place, “ Moses kept the passover and the sprinkling of blood,
lest he that destroyed the first-born should touch them.”^ The Jews
call the angel who went through the land on that fearful occasion,
Samael, or the Destroyer. That angel had the power of death for a
night, and he was prevented, by the appointed means, from touching
the first-born of Israel. But the devil has been a murderer from the
beginning ; and Christ, our passover, not only foiled him by plucking
the prey from his teeth, but he destroyed the destroyer— stripped him
of his deadly weapons— and caused his power to cease by removing the
foundation of it in the expiation of sin : It may be in reference to this
event, therefore, that our apostle says, “ That through death he might
destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil.”

The same illusion may be kept up in the words of the text. The
children of Israel had been held in a state of grievous oppression by the
Egyptians ; but previous to their deliverance they were brought into a
new species of bondage, tlirough fear of death. In this state of mind
must they have continued, more or less, from the time that they heard
of the messenger of destruction who was to march through the land.
And though God had assured them that he would make a difference
between them and the Egyptians, and appointed an ordinance in the
observance of which they were to find safety, yet this could not set their
minds at rest, especially when the solemn night approached. It was
natural for them to fear lest, in consequence of having omitted some of
the prescribed rites, or otherwise tlirown themselves out of the divine
protection, the destroying angel might break in upon them. This
apprehension would be increased by the prohibition, “None of you
shall go out at the door of his house until the morning,”® which would

1 Delivered before the Communion, May 1826.

2 Heb. xi. 28. 3 Exod. xii. 22.

THE FEAR OF DEATH.

383

sound in their ears like the command which was afterwards so frightful
to them, “ And if so much as a beast touch tire mountain, it shall be
stoned, or thrust through with a dart.” But from this fear they were
set free. The Lord passed over ; the angel of death entered into none
of their houses ; and the same night put an end both to their mental and
their corporeal bondage. This was a great deliverance — it was like life
from the dead. The night in which it was wrought was “ a night much
to be remembered,” and was commemorated by the children of Israel
throughout their generations. But vastly greater is the deliverance
accomplished by the death of Christ. It was in itself but a temporal
death which the Israelites dreaded ; as sinners we are obnoxious to
death eternal. They, through the fear of death, were kept in bondage
for a night, or at most a few days ; sinners, through the fear of death,
are detained all their lifetime subject to bondage.

View the matter in another light. By the passover, the children of
Israel were delivered from death only in one form and on one occasion ;
they were still exposed to its ravages and its alarms. The angel of
death hovered around their camp, and fed on the carcasses which fell in
the wilderness. His terror overtook them before they had gone far on
their journey. “ Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou
taken us away to die in the wilderness V’^ was their fearful exclamation
on finding themselves between the pursuing Egyptians and the Red
Sea. And they were haunted by the fears of death during the whole
period of their wanderings in the wilderness. “ Behold we die,” cried
they on one occasion; “we perish, we all perish.”^ And at Mount
Sinai, “Let not God speak to us, lest we die.”^ Such was the nature
of that dispensation, so far as it exhibited the covenant of works.
Hence we read of “the covenant from the mount Sinai which gendereth
to bondage,” in opposition to “Jerusalem which is above, and is free.”*
Not that we are to suppose, with some, that the church was then under
a covenant of works, or that believers were then under the spirit of
bondage : but such was the character of the law as threatening death,
such the spirit of those who sought life by it ; and in its external revela¬
tion, in its ordinances of worship, and in the distance at which worship¬
pers were kept, there were so many memorials that atonement was not
yet actually made. In this respect it was “ the ministration of death
and condemnation and it may be in allusion to the eftects which it
produced on the blinded children of Israel, who “ could not look stead¬
fastly to the end of that which is abolished,” that the apostle says in the
words before us, that Christ hath “ delivered them who through fear of
death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.”

But the description in our text is not confined to the ancient Israelites.
It portrays the miserable state of those whom Christ came to redeem,
and is applicable to all men in their natural condition. As true be-

1 Exod. xiv. 11. * Num. xvii. 12, 13.

1 Gal. iv. 24.

3 Exod. XX. 19 ; comp. ch. xix. 12.
3 2 Cor. iii. 7, 9, 13.

384

SERMON XII.

lievers, though they lived under the law, were pardoned, brought nigh
to God, and made spiritually free ; so unbelievers, though they live
under the Gospel, are at a distance from God, and “ are, through fear of
death, all their lifetime subject to bondage.” But from this state the
Christian is delivered. To raise your views of the deliverance wrought
for us by Christ, and prepare you for commemorating that death by
which it was eftected, let us consider, in the first place, the description
here given of the wretched condition of those whom Christ came to
redeem ; and, secondly, their deliverance from it.

I. Consider the wretched condition here described ; They “ were
through fear of death all their lifetime subject to bondage.” Fear is
that painful perturbation of mind which is felt at the apprehension of
any approaching evil. All the passions, and even the desires, are apt
to produce uneasy feelings in the breast. But as the object of desire is
something agreeable, its image yields an alleviation to the uneasiness
felt, and produces a kind of pleasing tumult ; whereas the object of fear
being evil, nothing is presented to the mind under its power but a
succession of gloomy and hideous imaginations. Fear is a feeling which
is purely painful. And of all the evils of this life, death is the most
fearful, and the apprehension of it subjects the soul to a state of the
most distressing bondage. Other evils threaten us with the loss of some
of our present comforts ; death threatens us with the loss of them all.
Other evils may hurt our life ; death destroys it.

There is a fear of death which is natural and unavoidable, springing
from the principle of self-preservation which is implanted in all
creatures endued with the vital spark. It is nothing more than the
love of life manifesting itself in retreating from that which endangers
it, and seeking to ward oft' the blow which aims at its destruction.
This feeling is common to all living creatures, rational and irrational ;
and among the latter it is felt by the strongest and boldest, as weU as
the feeble and timid. The lower animals feel it less strongly, in conse¬
quence of their views being confined to present things, and their being,
in a great measure, free from apprehensions as to the future. Man
being endowed with reason, imagination, and foresight, is susceptible of
this fear in a stronger degree ; and would accordingly be more miser¬
able than the beasts, provided he had no means of escaping or coun¬
terbalancing the evil. The more that any person is sensible of the bless¬
ings of life, the more painful must be his apprehensions of death, if he
have not the hope that it will usher him into a better state of existence.

But this is by no means the principal light in which the subject is
to be viewed, nor that in which it is presented to us in the text. I
proceed therefore to observe, that there is a guilty fear of death. By
this we do not mean that which is sinful, but that which proceeds
from a consciousness of sin. This fear is both an evidence of guilt, and
a part of its punishment. Death is not only an evil, it is also a penalty.

THE FEAR OF DEATH.

385

“The wages of sin is death.” We call death a natural evil, as dis¬
tinguished from sin, which is a moral evil ; and we speak of a natural
death in distinction from a violent one. But, properly speaking, death
is not a natural thing ; it is unnatural — a violence done to nature. It
I is one of the errors of the pestilent system broached by Socinus, that
■ man was created mortal ; and, if I am not mistaken, it was the foun-
tain-error of the system, the venomous egg from which all the rest
were hatched. For if man would have died though he had not simied,
then a perfectly just man may die — then there is no need to have re-
, course to substitution to account for the sufferings of Christ ; and if no
I atonement, then no need to have recourse to the supposition of his
divinity. This, at any rate, is a most dangerous error. It is one of
“the depths of Satan” — an after-fetch of the arch-deceiver, since he
has been deprived of the power of death. First he said, “Ye shall
not surely die, though ye eat.” Then, after the sentence took efi'ect,
“ Ah ! God knew that ye would surely have died at any rate.” Oh it
fears me, my brethren, that this error prevails extensively in these
days of little faith ; not theoretically, but spreading, and creeping, and
lurking, like a deceitful cancer, under a fair and florid profession, and
eating out the very vitals of Christianity ! It is little less than blas¬
phemy to allege that the work of God, as it came from his hand,
tended to corruption — that he made man to be born and die. No : he
planted him wholly a right seed ; — if diseases and death sprung up in
him, we may be siure that “ an enemy hath done this.” If Adam had
maintained his innocency, he would not have died, and he would not
have felt the pangs of the fear of death. This was implied in the
threatening. It was only in the way of his eating of the forbidden
fruit that he became obnoxious to die. Death was the penalty
threatened ; and in consequence of the violation of the precept, it
became the punishment inflicted. And no sooner had he sinned, than
he fell under the fear of death, and, like a felon conscious of his guilt,
he fled from the face of him into whose hand he had forfeited his life.
In the same light is death to be viewed as coming on ail the posterity
of Adam. “ By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin ;
and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.”

In harmony with Scripture, conscience bears witness to this truth.
It confirms the judgment of God in liis word, and tells men that those
who commit such things as are contrary to the law made known to
them, “ are worthy of death.” The mere bodily pain connected with
it is not that which makes death so terrible ; for it may sometimes be
a deliverance from bodily pain : nor is it the thought of its being an
extinction of being ; for, in some cases, that would be a relief to the
mind. The real root of this dread is a consciousness of guilt, which
produces an apprehension of punishment. This the apostle teaches
elsewliere when he says, “ The sting of death is sin.” What is it that
makes a serpent dreadful 1 Not its size, or its strength, or its hideous

38G

SERMON XII.

appearance, but its sting. Take away this, and “ the noxious snake ”
would cease to be an object of horror — we could handle it and look on
it with indifference, if not with pleasure. To say to the conscience of
a convinced sinner, as was said to David, “ The Lord hath put away
y thy sin,” is the same as saying to him, “ Thou shalt not die.” ^ It
extinguishes the fear of death.

This fear is a well-merited punishment — an evil which we have
justly incurred, and brought upon ourselves by transgression. The
death of a criminal and that of an innocent or good man, may be the
very same in their external circumstances ; but how different are
they in their moral nature, and in the feelings which they produce
on the minds of the respective sufferers — the execution, for example, of
a traitor and a patriot, of a murderer and a martyr ! Both may be
tried by the same forms, bound with the same chain, locked up in the
same cell, tortured by the same instruments, led to the same scaffold ;
both may be doomed to the same kind of death, to be hung up, be¬
headed, drawn and quartered, impaled, or burnt alive. This has been
the lot of the best of men, as well as the worst of malefactors. But the
former met death without fear, often with exultation, and have been
heard singing praises in their prisons and on their scaffolds ; while the
latter were overwhelmed with shame, confusion, and horror. Why this
difference % The former were conscious that they had done nothing
worthy of death \ the consciences of the latter told them that “ they
received the due reward of their deeds.” And thus it is with sinners
who are guilty before God, and have incurred the sentence of death.

We have been speaking of criminals, who fall into the hands of men
who shall die themselves, and who can only kill the body ; but sin is a
capital crime against the living God, who, after he hath killed, hath
power to cast into hell. Death, as threatened in the code of heaven’s
criminal jurisprudence, means sometliing very different from its legal
acceptation among men. In the last sense it is no death compared with
the former, and no object of fear. “ Fear not them which kill the body,
but are not able to kill the soul.” ^ If the curse of the law of God were
exhausted by natural dissolution, and sin exposed to nothing more than
the extinction of animal life and the separation of the soul from the
body, there would be no such great reason for apprehension. But con¬
science, when it is not stupified or its voice smothered, conspires with
Scripture in testifying aloud that this is not the case — that there is a
hereafter — that the soul does not cease to live when the body ceases to
breathe — that the spirit appears before the bar of a just and holy God,
and has sentence passed upon it according to the deeds done in the flesh.
The heathen had a deep conviction of this. They had their Tartarus,
or hell, and their Rhadamanthus, or judge before whom departed spirits
appeared ; and although superstition mixed up its dreams, yet con¬
science was to be heard speaking tlirough these dreams ; and the work-

1 2 Sam. xii. 13. ^ Mat. x. 28.

THE EEAR OF DEATH.

387

ings and the expression of their terrors were like the startings and the
monologue of a murderer in his sleep — proclaiming the apprehensions,
which haunted him during his waking hours, of falling into the hands
of justice, and demonstrating his guilt, though more incoherently, yet
no less convincingly, than the judicial evidence that may be afterwards
led against him on his trial. Revelation, while it more clearly reveals
our duty, has also lifted up the veil which covers the invisible world,
and disclosed to sinners the punishment which awaits them there. It
declares that “ the soul that sinneth” — the soul is the sinner — “ it shall
die.” It denounces “ indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish,
upon every soul of man that doeth evil.” And the prospect it presents
to all that know not God and obey not the Gospel is “a fearful looking
for of judgment and fiery indignation which shall devour the adver¬
saries”^ — that the dead, small and great, shall be raised and appear
before the judgment-seat — that the wicked shall go away into ever¬
lasting punishment, and shall have their portion with the devil and his
angels, in dhat place where “ their worm dieth not, and their fire is not
quenched.”

Let these things, which are the true and faithful sayings of God, be
beheved, and “ the sinners in Zion will be afraid, and fearfulness wifi,
surprise the hypocrite, like a woman in travail.” Let them realise
these things, and they will feel what it is to be “ in bondage ” through
the fear of death. When a man is in a passion, we say he is not master
of himself — he is a slave for the time to lus anger. All the passions
have the effect of enslaving those who yield to them ; but none of them
have such a power over the mind as fear when it rises to a height.
Hence the common expression applied, justly and almost exclusively,
to this emotion, slavish fear— fear which makes slaves of us. We do
not speak of slavish love, or anger ; to these passions we pay a volun¬
tary homage, by wilfully indulging them. But “ of whom a man is over¬
come, of the same is he brought into bondage.” Fear unmans the per¬
son. It locks up all the senses — it paralyses both body and soul ; so
that the person cannot flee from danger, cannot move an arm in his
own defence ; can neither speak, nor hear, nor see. No prison, no
guards, no bars, no bolts, no chains which a tyrant can invent or em¬
ploy, are so efficient as fear. This is the adamantine chain with which
God has bound the devils, and in which he reserves them unto the
judgment of the great day. O how easy for Him to put this hook into
the nose, and this bridle into the jaws, of his proudest and fiercest
enemies ! He has only to lift himself up — to show himself— to look
through the cloud of darkness which is on their minds he need not
speak to them with the voice of thunder — he has only to whisper into
the ear of conscience, “ I am the Lord it is I ! ” and instantly their
hearts quail, their countenances are changed, their thoughts trouble
them, the joints of their loins are loosed, and their knees smite one

1 Exod. xiv. 24.

388

SERMON XII.

against anotlaer. ^ A Felix, a Herod, a Belshazzar, a Pharaoh, a Cain,
are examples of this. Nay, whole hosts have in this manner been dis¬
comfited ; “ the stout-hearted have been spoiled, and none of the men
of might have found their hands ; ” so that “ one has chased a thousand,
and two put ten thousand to flight yea, “ the sound of a shaken leaf
has chased them, and they have fled, as fleeing from a sword, and fallen
when none pursued.” ®

But (it may be said) are such fears generally felt by sinners ? Do
not we see multitudes living at their ease, putting the evil day afar off,
enjoying themselves as if they were never to die, or as if there were
nought to dread after death ? Are there not many persons, giving no
evidence of religion, who are fearless of death, and expose themselves
to jeopardy every hour? Is it not said of the wicked that “they have
no bands in their death,” and do they not often depart without any
ajDparent horror or apprehension on their spirits ?

There is truth in all this, and I am not unaware of the difficulty
which it involves. It must be allowed to be a fact, to a confounding
degree, that multitudes speak peace to themselves, though they walk
after the imagination of their own hearts. And if the understanding be
darkened and perverted, if conscience be “ seared as with a hot iron,”
what can be expected to succeed but a fearless apathy ? It may be
remarked, however, in the first place, that the hardiliood which some
display may be traced to fear. They wish to brave out the matter,
and affect to despise both death and hell, when in reality they are all
their lifetime in bondage through fear of them. It is not always true
courage that prompts persons to expose their lives in scenes of peril ;
in many instances it can be traced to necessity, avarice, a false sense of
honour, or, in other words, the dread of the world’s laugh, which is in
truth the strongest symptom of cowardice. It is the same with the
foolhardy sinner. And with respect to the apparent fortitude which
some wicked men exhibit on a death-bed, it may be remarked, that fear
may sometimes rise so high as to overcome itself, and to produce a
species of fearlessness. The timid hind will turn upon her pursuers,
and make an obstinate resistance, when she perceives that she can no
longer escape. How many instances are there of condemned criminals
anticipating the day of their execution ! The jailer of Philippi, under
the apprehension of the punishment which awaited him for allowing
the prisoners to escape, was on the eve of killing himself. Despair, like
a parricide, will sometimes destroy the fear which produced it.

In the second place, many plunge into dissipation and profaneness,
that they may drown the fears of death, and banish all thoughts of a
hereafter. Those who are most courageous over their cups, are often
the most dastardly when sober. We have heard of generals who have
distributed intoxicating liquors to their troops on the eve of a battle ;
and certain it is that some of Satan’s most determined men are in a

1 Dau. V. 6.

2 Deut. xxxii. 30.

3 Lev. xxvi. 36.

THE FEAK OF DEATH.

389

state of almost continual intoxication. The loud laugh, the noisy revel,
the horrid imprecation, the profane and coarse jest at heaven and hell —
what are they but the devil’s martial music, by which he contrives to
put spirit into his faint-hearted troops, and without the aid of which
the stoutest of his champions would sometimes lose courage, and drop
their weapons in their war against the Almighty 1 We may trace the
secret influence of the same principle in the eager pursuit of the world,
exemplified in the conduct of those who haste to be rich, or who greedily
surfeit themselves with sensual delights. Like cattle who have broken
into a forbidden pasture, from which they know they will be speedily
driven, aware that their time is short, afraid that death will overtake
them, and having hope only in this life — “ Behold joy and gladness,
slaying oxen and killing sheep, eating flesh and drinking wine : let us
eat and drink, for to-morrow we shall die*.” ^

Finally, the apathy and composure of those sinners who do not run
to this excess of riot, is still irrational ; it is a species of sober madness.
Wliether it spring from pure thoughtlessness and inconsideration, or
assume the air of superior wisdom, the possessors of this supposed
fortitude are reaUy chargeable with brutish folly. They become fear¬
less, only in proportion as they approach to the rank of the brutes, who
fear not death because they are incapable of foreseeing it, and have
nothing to look to beyond it. They are driven to death with stupid
unconcern, “ as an ox goeth to the slaughter,” or plunge into it with
blindfold impetuosity, “ as the horse rusheth into the battle.” And as
for those would-be wise, who boast that they have risen above the pre¬
judices and fears of the vulgar, what is the amount of their great dis¬
covery? Why, one which we should think sufficiently humiliating,
and which shows that the wisdom of this world soars only to sink the
lower — that all men, and they among the rest, “ perish like beasts, and
are laid in the grave like sheep ; ” or, as the wise king expressed it for
them long ago : “ As it happeneth to the fool, so it happeneth even to
me and why was I then more wise ? How dieth the wise man ? as
a fool. For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts ; even
one thing befalleth them : as the one dieth, so dieth the other •, yea,
they have all one breath : so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a
beast.” ^ There lies the pride of modern philosophy ! “ How art thou
fallen, 0 Lucifer, son of the morning !” “Ah, his glory !” To divest
himself of the fear of God and of an hereafter, man, proud man, will be
contented to die like an ox, and to be “ buried with the burial of an
ass ! ” ®

But is it always so ? Are ungodly men, small or great, alwa,ys able
to meet the King of Terrors with an undismayed heart ? Far from it.
There are well authenticated and undeniable proofs to the contrary.
There are instances innumerable in which all the dreams of superstition,
the flatteries of friends, and the various appliances to which men have
1 Isa. xxii. 13. ^ Eccles. ii. 15. 16 ; iii. 19. ^ Jer. xxii. 18, 19.

390

SERMON XII.

resorted to ward off the thoughts of death, have failed in the trying
hour to pacify conscience, and the death-bed of the sinner has presented
a scene of the most harrowing description. And if the curtains of the
sick-bed were drawn, if the friendly guards were removed, and we were
permitted to receive the dying confessions of those who have lived without
God in the world, we could produce more numerous examples. Certain
it is that the most careless and undaunted of the votaries of sin have
their moments of alarm, indicating too surely the state of bondage in
which they are held. That man cannot be said to be, for a single hour
of his lifetime, free from the fear of death, who is liable every moment
to be seized with terror at its approach, to startle at its shadow when¬
ever it crosses his path, and to be filled with consternation when it
overtakes him. In him the curse has truly taken effect, “ Thy life shall
hang in doubt before thee ; and thou shalt fear day and night, and
shalt have none assurance of thy life.” i

II. Of the deliverance from this misery. “ Through death,” i. e. his
own dying, “ he delivered ” or ransomed “ them who, through fear of
death, were all their life subject to bondage.” On this part of the sub¬
ject we shall not at present dwell particularly.

Tlie deliverance is twofold — from death itself, and from the fear of
death, through which sinners are kept in bondage. It was the promise of
Christ, “ I will ransom them from the power of the grave ; I will redeem
them from death : 0 death, I will be thy plagues ; 0 grave, I will be thy
destruction.” 2 But this could not be effected by mere power or force.
Sinners were legally and justly doomed to death, and a ransom behoved
to be paid to justice. This ransom was the life of the Redeemer. By
becoming their surety, assuming their nature, and taking their place, he
became obnoxious to death. “ The Lord laid on him the iniquities of
them all ” — inflicted on him the punishment due to them. The death
which they had incurred, he endured in all its extent — not merely the
separation of soul and body, but the second death. It was not neces¬
sary that his punishment, like theirs, should be eternal, because his
sufferings and death had an infinite value in them, arising from the
divinity of his person. But the cup put into his hand, and which he
drank, had all the essential ingredients of that which was prepared for
them. Accordingly, he suffered in his soul, not only from the malice of
men and devils, but by the hand of his Father, as a righteous Judge,
pressing sore on him. He fell under the fear of death, and was bound
with its cords, though it could not make a slave of him, nor reduce him
to despair. “ In the days of his flesh, he offered up prayers and sup¬
plications, with strong crying and tears, unto him that was able to save
him from death, and was heard in that he feared.” ® In the prospect of ,
his death, “ he began to be sore amazed and to be very heavy,” and cried

1 Deut. xxviii. 66. 2 Hos. xiii. 14. s Heb. v. 7.

THE FEAR OF DEATH.

391

out, “ Now is my soul troubled ; and wbat shall I say 1 Father, save
me from this hour. 0 my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass
from me.” He not only suffered from the terrors of death, but endured
its stroke. And by dying he satisfied divine justice, expiated sin, and
obtained eternal redemption for his people. Meritoriously he perfected
their deliverance on the cross ; and this was judicially declared by his
resurrection from the dead, when God loosed the pains of death, and
justified him in the Spirit.

By his death, the apostle tells us in the preceding verse, our Lord
“ destroyed him that had the power of death, that is, the devil.” All
the power which Satan possessed was owing to sin — this was the sceptre
of his dominion. By the expiation of sin, Christ undermined the throne
of Satan. These words, “ It is finished,” uttered on the cross, and ac¬
companied by the act which verified them, “ bowing his head and giving
up the ghost,” were like the handwriting on the wall to Belshazzar,
Mene, Tekel. They carried the sentence of death into the conscience of
Satan ; he felt his strength taken from him, his kingdom departed.
After this, he had no power by death to injure one of those for whom
Christ died. Though allowed to inflict on them the stroke of natural
death, still he could not harm them ; for sin being taken away, death
becomes powerless, as a venomous creature which has lost its sting.
The seed of the woman hath bruised the head of the serpent. Strange
victory ! Wonderful deliverance ! Who could have supposed that any
person would have destroyed the power of death by becoming its prey?
There have been many instances of combatants wresting from an enemy
his weapon, and by means of it inflicting on him a deadly blow ■, but when
was it heard that a person killed his enemy by receiving the death-blow
himself? Christ was vulnerable only in the heel of his humanity.
Satan saw this, and, aiming the stroke successfully, brought him to the
dust of death ; but that fall proved fatal to himself !

Now, this redemption is applied to sinners in the day of believing,
when they are justified or legally acquitted. Then they are actually set
free from the sentence of condemnation, and adjudged to life. “ He
that believeth on the Son of God shall have everlasting life, and shall
never come into condemnation, but hath passed from death unto life.’
And while, through the death of Christ, they are delivered from the
penal consequences of death, — through faith in Ins death they are set
free from the fear of death, and from the bondage which it engenders.
God, who sent his Son to redeem them from the curse of the law, sends
the Spirit of his Son into their hearts, enabling them to approach him
as a reconciled God, with the fearless confidence of children. They
“ have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but the spirit of
adoption, whereby they cry, Abba, Father.” Thus are they brought
into the glorious liberty of the children of God, and, amidst all their
tribulations, are made to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. They have

392

SERMON XII.

still to endure the external stroke of temporal death, but its “ bitterness
is past,” or rather it is extracted by their Redeemer. Its moral nature
is altered. It comes to them in the channel, not of the old, but of the
new covenant— not as a curse, but as a blessing. They are exalted
above the slavish dread of the last enemy, and are enabled to raise the
song of triumph, even before the victory is achieved, “ 0 death, where
is thy sting 1 0 grave, where is thy victory ? The sting of death is
sin, and the strength of sin is the law ; but thanks be unto God, which
giveth us the victory, through Jesus Christ, our Lord !”

Perhaps it may appear strange that I should have insisted so long
on the first part of my subject, and so as to abridge the time due to
the second part, which is of greater importance in itself, and much
more agreeable. But I have my reasons for this, both general and
particidar. Suffice it to say at present, that to those who have never
felt aright the misery which we have been describing, the Gospel will
not be glad tidings. Though aU unrenewed men are subject to the
fear of death, and are kept in bondage through it all their lifetime, yet
such is the fallacious and hardening nature of sin, that it prevents
them from realising the full extent of their misery and danger, and lulls
them into a temporary security, disturbed only by vague and undefined
alarms. There is, therefore, a salutary fear of death, which it is one
design of revelation to awaken in the breasts of sinners, and without
which they would never be induced to flee for refuge to lay hold of the
hope set before them in the Gospel. For this purpose does the law of
God unfold to us our real condition as sinners, and discover to us the mis¬
erable bondage in which we are held, by revealing to us “ the terrors of
the Lord.” If the sorrows of death have not compassed you, if the pains
of hell never got hold of you, so as to make you sensible of this bondage,
you can feel no interest in the salvation which the Gospel reveals. This
is one great reason why we ministers labour in vain, and our report is
believed by so few. We preach Christ to you — we tell you of his incar¬
nation, of his gracious errand, his sorrowful life, his accursed death.
You hear all this, you allow it to be true ; you feel obliged to so bene¬
volent a friend, and desirous to testify some gratitude to him. We teU
you farther that this person was the Son of God, the Maker of heaven
and earth, and yet he humbled himself, and paid for our redemption a
price of infinite value — the blood of God. This throws an air of mysteri¬
ous solemnity over the theme, and converts your gratitude into aston¬
ishment. But is this the faith of the Gospel 1 Is this gladly to receive
the word ? Is there anything here corresponding to the avidity with
which the thirsty soul comes to the cooling spring 1 with which the
captive hears the proclamation of liberty 1 with which the man-slayer,
puisued by the avenger, fled to the city of refuge ?

If, however, we con once succeed in convincing men of their sin and

THE FEAK OF DEATH.

393

danger, in fixing the sentence of death within their consciences, and
in making them cry out, under a sense of their guilt and apprehension
of future wrath, “Wliat must we do to be saved?” our work is half
done. When the arrows of the Almighty have entered their soul, and
the poison thereof has drank up their spirits, 0 how ardently does the
parched conscience pant for the refreshing tidings of pardon ! How
eager to receive the proffered cup of salvation, yea, to snatch it, ere it
be half filled, from the hands of the administrator !

394

SEEMON XIIL

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

“Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” —

Numb, xxiii. 10.

There are two things which, provided we could establish them on
good evidence, would go far, with all considerate minds, to settle the
question as to the value of practical godliness. The one is the pleasure
which it yields during life, and the other the advantages which accrue
from it at death. Now I know not more competent and unexception¬
able witnesses to the former than the persons who have led a godly
life ; and if you were to take their solemn depositions on their death¬
bed, though some of them might be disposed to express themselves with
great diffidence as to their future prospects, yet you would find all of
them ready to bear witness that the happiest hours which they spent
on earth were those which they devoted to religion ; and that their
only regret was that the things of God and eternity had not occupied
more of their time and attention. Thus far “ wisdom is justified of her
children.” And with respect to the second point — the advantages of
religion in death — can you, my brethren, direct me to a witness more
worthy of credit than an ungodly man, in the possession of health and
the pursuit of riches'! Well, then, you have the testimony of such a
man in the text, bearing directly on the question, expressed in the most
decided manner, and filling up the only blank which the humility or
the timidity of some of the former class of witnesses had left in the
evidence ; “ Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end
be like his.”

It was God’s usual method (and it became him) to convey the know¬
ledge of his will to the chirrch by “holy men.” Not that their eharac-
ter constituted the ground on which their messages were to be received ;
for our faith must rest on the authority of God, and not on the good¬
ness or wisdom of men. But, on the other hand, their good qualities
are not to be altogether overlooked. “They believed, and therefore
spake.” They inquired and searched diligently into the things revealed
to them, and imparted them with lively impressions of their truth,
necessity, and importance. They staked their own eternal interests
upon them. Knowing the terror of the Lord, they persuaded men to

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

395

flee from coming -wTath, and comforted others with the consolations
wherewith they had themselves been comforted. In this respect they
added, as it were, their own personal testimony to that of the Spirit of
God, under whose inspiration they spake and wrote. But it pleased
God, for holy and wise reasons, sometimes to communicate portions of
his mind by men of an opposite character ; such as Caiaphas under the
New, and Balaam under the Old Testament. The latter seems to have
been a man of great gifts, and held in high reputation in his age. He
was one of those without the pale of the Israelitish commonwealth,
who, as appears from the history of Job, still retained the knowledge
of the only true God. But he held the truth in unrighteousness. Know¬
ing God he glorified him not as God, and instead of being thankful for
the gifts conferred on him, sought only to make gain of them. His
heart was so exercised with covetous practices, that the dumb ass on
which he rode rebuked the madness of the prophet, while he ran
greedily in the way of error. Permitted by Heaven to visit the king
of Moab, under an express injunction to say nothing but what God
should bid him, he had recourse to every art of divination and enchant¬
ment to procure such a response as would entitle him to the rich pre¬
sents by which Balak sought to inflame his avarice. Yet into the
mind and mouth of this godless man was the Almighty pleased to put
his precious word ; and while he prevented it from being corrupted or
contaminated in passing through such an impure channel, he glorified
himself by constraining one of the greatest adversaries of his people to ,
predict their future felicity, and repeatedly to bless them in the hearing
of that prince who had hired him, by the most tempting offers, to
devote them to destruction. What has been said of the benediction
which Balaam pronounced on the people of Israel, is applicable to Ids
declarations respecting the death of the righteous man. It involves a
twofold testimony. We have in it the testimon}^ of the Spirit of God,
under whose inspiration he spake for the time. In this view it coin¬
cides exactly with the voice which the beloved disciple heard from
heaven, saying, “Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord;
yea, saith the Spirit.” But we have also the testimony of a man who
was himself estranged from the life of God, and an enemy of all right¬
eousness. And you know that a favourable testimony from an enemy
is of all others the strongest.

The text is not a mere figurative description of the blessedness of a
righteous man’s departure. It has a different character from the rest
of the inspired oracle. It is “aside” from the prediction. It is more
personal than prophetic. It resembles, though breathing a different
spirit, the parenthetic exclamation of the dying patriarch, when an¬
nouncing the fates of his children, “ I have waited for thy salvation,
0 God.” It is an ejaculatory prayer, in which the feelings of the man
are blended with the raptures of the prophet. Though in a trance, his
eyes were open ; the divine afflatus did not suspend his consciousness ;

396

SERMON XIII.

the prophet felt that he was a man ; and while he described in ecstasy
the prospects of the people whose God was Jehovah, and saw that the
latter end of the righteous is peace, his heart was delighted, ravished,
softened — the fascinations of sin seemed to lose their charm, he felt for
the moment as if he could have renounced “ the wages of unrighteous¬
ness,” and without coming to the choice of suffering affliction with the
people of God, he expressed an ardent wish to be numbered with them
in their death. Nor, my brethren, was this peculiar to Balaam. There
are many instances still of godless men, who in moments of serious
thought, and particularly when bending over the sick-bed, or stand¬
ing at the grave of a saint, breathe the sigh of the text : “ Let
me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like
his.”

Three things claim our attention in the text : there is a comfortable
truth held forth — the desirableness of the death of the righteous ; an
important caution given us as to our exercise in reference to this ; and
a deeply interesting subject of examination as to the character of those
whose death is desirable.

I. Of the desirableness of the death of the righteous. Here we shall
view the event in the light of God’s word, not confining ourselves to
those points which excite the wishes of worldly men, who are strangers
to the mystery of that change which death produces on the godly.
The Spirit of God intended to lead our minds to prospects beyond
those which struck the shortsighted eye of Balaam. On the other
hand, we shall confine ourselves to those things which belong to
the righteous man’s death as such ; separating whatever may be com¬
mon to it with that of others, and leaving out of view what may
be the peculiar and distinguishing privilege of some saints in their
last moments.

It was the contrast between the righteous and wicked at death,
which, darting across the mind of Balaam, drew from him the exclama¬
tion in the text. But we are not to conceive of this as lying in the
external nature or circumstances of the death of the two classes of men.
In both it is a disruption of the component parts of human nature ; the
soul cpiits the body, which is laid lifeless in the grave, and becomes the
prey of worms. The death of either may be eftected by the same dis¬
eases or calamities — by a fever, a consumption, or an apoplexy — by a
shipwreck, a sudden fall, a stroke of lightning, an earthquake — by the
violence of man, or the visitation of God. Nay, the bodily sufferings of
the dying saint may be more protracted and agonising than those of the
ungodly, who in this sense may be said to “ have no bands in their
death.” It is in the moral character of the event, and in the relation
which it bears to eternity, that the contrast properly consists. If
there were nothing after death, as the object of hope or fear, there
would be no ground for the vdsh in our text — no difference between

THE DEATH OP THE KIGHTEOUS.

397

the death of a righteous and a wicked man, or rather no differ¬
ence between the death of both and that of a beast ; for it might
then be equally said of them all that they are perished and extinct
for ever.

“ Lazarus died ; the rich man also died and was buried.” ^ Here no
difference is to be perceived, or if there be any, it is on the side of the
worldly man, who had fared sumptuously during life, and was honoured
with a funeral after his demise. But look after them with the eye of
faith. “ The beggar was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom ;
the rich man lifted up his eyes in hell, being in torments. And beside
all this, between them there was a great gulf fixed” — their several
states of happiness and misery were irreversibly and unalterably de¬
termined for ever. Such is the contrast delineated by the compas¬
sionate Saviour of men, delineated parabolically indeed, but in a parable
which presents a striking and unexaggerated picture of the awful re¬
ality. “ Thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise
Lazarus evil things, but now he is comforted and thou art tormented.”
“ He is comforted !” All the evil things he endured are forgotten, or,
if recollected, serve only to enhance his joys. “ Thou art tormented !”
All thy good things are gone, and the memory of them serves only to
aggravate thy misery. From this general description, who can hesi¬
tate in his choice between deaths which have such different issues 1

“ Now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.” Observe, my breth¬
ren, nothing is said of the comfort of Lazarus, or the torment of
Dives, on his deathbed. This suggests another point which we mean
to set aside in stating the contrast, and in making up our judgment as
to the preference.

There are wicked men who have had the flames of hell kindled in
their conscience before leaving this world, and have been fearfully dis¬
tracted in consequence of their sins being set in array before their eyes.
But it is a mistake to suppose that they are all the victims of remorse,
or filled with terrors at that solemn hour. The hope of the hypocrite
usually perisheth at the approach of death ; but even he, though more
obnoxious to alarms than the profane, may go down to the pit with a lie
in his mouth, and in his right hand, deceiving others, himself deceived.
Have you not heard repeatedly of persons whose lives were forfeited to
the justice of their country by the commission of the most atrocious
crimes, spending the last night of their mortal career in merriment, and
• conducting themselves on the scaflbld with an indifference and levity
which was appalling to the spectators ? Many causes may be assigned
for that calmness, and even courage, which ungodly men display in their
dying moments. Some have seared their consciences by a long course
of abandoned living, so that, when they come to die, they are “ past
feeling.” Others are so fatuously ignorant that they go to an eternal
state as a bird hastens to the snare, or an idiot to the correction of the

1 Luke, xvi. 22.

398

SERMON XIII.

stocks. Some -welcome death as a relief from pain, others are -weary of
a -world -which they can no longer enjoy. Some lull themselves asleep
-with the strong opiate of infidelity, or assume an unnatural hardihood
to conceal those misgivings of mind, -which, if betrayed, would wound
their pride. Nor must we overlook the awful but righteous judgment
of the Almighty, by which those who take pleasure in unrighteousness,
and love not the truth, are given up to strong delusions to believe a lie
— a judgment not more severe on themselves than on those who have
imbibed their principles and imitate their example. If men will not
believe Moses and the prophets — if they shut their eyes on the clear
light in which life and immortality, and judgment to come, are placed
by the Gospel of Christ, they shall not have the deathbed repentance
and recantations of their associates to arouse them.

On the other hand, thougli “ the latter end of the upright man is
peace,” it is not always accompanied with joy and sensible comfort.
Blessed be God, the instances have not been rare in every age of
righteous men dying not only peaceably, but joyfully and triumphantly.
Though far from boasting of their own righteousness, or relying on it
as any part of their title to heaven, yet by a diligent and patient con¬
tinuance in well-doing, they made their calling and election sure.
Knowing whom they have believed, and persuaded that he is able to
keep what they have committed to him, their conscience bearing them
Avitness that with godly sincerity they have endeavoured to keep the
faith intrusted to them, and having the earnest of the Spirit, they look
forward with humble but joyful confidence to the gracious reward which
he hath promised. Having weathered the storms and escaped the
perils of their spiritual voyage, they dismiss their fears at the end of
their course, summon all that is within them to contemplate the bliss¬
ful prospect which they are gradually nearing, and spreading the sails
of their faith and hope and desire, for the last time, to the heavenly
gale before which they are borne, enter the haven of eternal rest, with
shoutings of “ Grace, grace, unto it !”

But this is not always the attainment of the genuine saint. The un¬
expected approach of the householder may throw into confusion and
alarm the faithful steward, who is conscious that everything is not in
that state of order and preparation which he could have wished ; and
even the kind assurances of the Master that lie is pleased, and takes the
will for the deed, may fail for a time to soothe the disturbed feelhigs of
the anxious servant. The believer may be overtaken by death at a time
when his views of an interest in Christ, and his prospects of eternity,
are far from being clear and satisfactory. Involved in a multiplicity of
cares, and distracted with public business, he has not found leisure to
set his heart and house in order ; so that, on receiving the intimation,

“ Thou shalt die, and not live,” he may, like Hezekiah, “turn his face
toward the wall, and weep sore.”^ Disinterestedly set on the comple-

1 Isaiah, xxxviii. 1 — 3.

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

399

tion of the good work which he has been honoured to advance, he may
beseech the Lord to permit him to see the establishment of Israel in
peace, and accordingly feel dispirited at the frown with which he is
answered : “ Let it suffice thee; speak no more unto me of this matter.”^
From these and other causes — from constitutional timidity of spirit, in¬
creased by the peculiar nature of the disease under which he labours—
from humility and tenderness of conscience, combined with weakness
of faith and knowledge, disposing him to dwell more on the evil of sin
and the awfulness of judgment, than on the mercy of God and the
character of him who is the appointed Judge — in fine, from the sove¬
reign withholding, for wise reasons, of those supernatural influences
which are requisite to give consolation in the last struggle, the genuine
Christian may he in heaviness on a sick-bed, and depart at last in fear,
or with trembling hope.

But even when presented in these lights, there is a wide and essential
difference between the death of the righteous and the wicked. What
considerate and impartial person, who knew the lives and saw the end
of both, would not dread the death of the latter with all its fortitude,
and covet the death of the former with all its faintings and fears ?
There is something ominous in the calm — something fearful in the fear¬
lessness of an ungodly man while standing on the verge of eternity. It
is “ an awful pause, prophetic of his end,”- — like the breathless silence
which precedes the bursting of a thunder-cloud, or the interval of ease
enjoyed by a patient, which is mistaken by his friends for a sign of con¬
valescence, hut indicates to the skilful physician that a deadly morti¬
fication has commenced. On the other hand, there is something hope¬
ful in the fears of the tender-hearted Christian when about to put ofl:‘
this mortal flesh. They betoken the soundness of his conscience and
the strength of his humility — that he is alive to his all-important situa¬
tion, and afraid of deceiving himself— that he is in earnest about salva¬
tion, and penetrated with the belief that “ without holiness no man shall
see the Lord.” The most intrepid and confirmed unbeliever would ex¬
change his hope of future happiness or of rest in eternal sleep for the
enjoyment of a few more years on earth ; the weakest Cliristian would
not yield up his trembling hopes of heaven for a thousand lives and a
thousand worlds.

Let me add a few reasons which show that the death of the righteous
is desirable.

1. It is safe. This alone is enough to make it desirable. Death is
no common or despicable thing. It is a great evil, and in itself an
object both of aversion and dread. It is the wages of sin, and on that
account not only unnatural, but penal. There is a first and a second
death, and the one introduces to the other. “ Behold a pale horse, and
his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him.”^ He
is the King of Terrors, and the apprehension of meeting him at every

1 Deut. iii. 26. ^ Rev. vi. 8.

400

SEKMON XIII.

turn, and in every affliction, keeps men all their lifetime subject to
bondage. But so far as the righteous are concerned, death is stripped
of its terrors, because it has been deprived of its power to destroy or
hurt them. As guilty, they were once obnoxious to its penalty ; but
their guilt has been taken away, and they have been acquitted at the
bar of God through faith in the blood of Christ. They cannot be hurt
of the second death ; and the first death, under a supernatural ordina¬
tion, comes to them, not as the executioner of the law, but as the mes¬
senger of grace to convey them to heaven. Its appearance may be
formidable, and a chilly horror may be felt as it throws its snaky folds
round them and seeks the heart ; but its bite is harmless, like that of a
serpent which has been deprived of its sting. “ The sting of death is
sin, and the strength of sin is the law • but thanks be to God who
giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ,” who, by fulfilling
the law in our stead, has rendered sin powerless and death innocuous.
“ Whosoever liveth and believeth on me shall never die.” Death is no
death to a Christian. “ Hast thou found me, 0 mine enemy !” is the
exclamation of a wicked man, on meeting what it has been his great
object through life to avoid. The saint, when he finds liimself in its
cold grasp, can look up and say with a faint smile, what he will after¬
wards shout in full triumph, “ 0 death, where is thy sting 1” On the
ungodly and wicked, death’s dart inflicts an incurable — an immortal
wound ; for “ their worm dieth not, and their fire is not quenched :” on
the Christian it inflicts at the worst a mortal wound which shall soon
be healed, for in his case “ this mortal shall put on immortality.”

2. The death of the righteous is advantageous. Every saint may
adopt the words of the apostle, “ To me to die is gain.”

Death puts an end for ever to all the evils which he endured here —
to all his labours and toils — his sickness and sorrow — his infirmities and
burdens — his disappointments and fears — his complaints and crosses
and conflicts. In the land to which it conveys him, the inhabitant shall
not say, I am sick — he shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more —
the sun shall not scorch him by day, and there is no night there — there
shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be
any more pain ; for the former things are passed away. How welcome
is “ tired nature’s sweet restorer ” to the labourer after the toils of a long
day ! How refreshing is sleep to the sick man who has been long tossed
on his bed under the influence of the burning fever ! But 0 sweeter
and more welcome far is the grave to him who, after many years of
suffering and grief, falls asleep in Jesus ! “ Our friend Lazarus

sleepeth,” and “ he doth well.” “ Blessed are the dead that die in the
Lord ; for they rest from their labours.” “ They enter into peace ;
they rest in their beds.” And 0 how refreshed shall they awake from
their repose on the morning of the resurrection !

But this is not all — death puts an end to their sinning, as w'ell as
suffering, and introduces them into a state of jDerfect holiness. Sin

THE DEATH OF THE KIGHTEOUS.

401

dwelling in him is the great burden of the true Christian : its oppres¬
sion extorts from him his deepest groans. As long as he is here he
carries about “ the body of this death,” crucified indeed, but still living ;
dying, yet oft reviving ; causing him to move heavily and halting, giv¬
ing advantage to his spiritual enemies, distracting him in duty, marring
his peace and comfort and communion with God. But now he is com¬
pletely relieved from the burden and bondage of corruption. The ini¬
quities of the ungodly lie down with them in the grave, and are the
cords which bind them till the judgment of the great day. But the
dying Christian leaves all his sins, and all of sin, behind him. Death
strikes the final blow at the root of his corruptions ; it breaks the last
tie between sin and his soul. He shall never more feel the rising of an
evil affection ; he shall not again know “ the thought of foolishness
nor shall temptation ever throw its distracting shade across his mind
for a single moment.

3. The dying saint has no reason to regret anything that he is about
to leave behind him. The advantages which accrue from earthly
changes are usually counterbalanced by privations. A person obtains
a lucrative and honourable post, but it requires him to quit his native
country, his parents and dear friends, and to spend liis life among
foreigners of a strange language, and manners dissimilar to his own.
On these accounts he sets out with reluctance, and often looks back
with a sigh. The advantages which accrue from a Christian’s death
have no sucli counterbalance.

The world fills the hearts of the ungodly. It is their portion and
treasure ; all their happiness lies in the enjoyment of it. They are of
the world ; they speak of it, they think of it, they savour it, and nothing
else. Death cannot, therefore, but be dreadful to them ; for it tears
them from all that is dear, desirable, and precious in their eyes, and
hurries them into another world, of which they have no knowledge, and
for which they have no desire nor preparation, except what lies in their
sins, by which they have fitted themselves for destruction, as fuel for
the fire. But it is quite otherwise with the believer in Christ. He has
been crucified to the world, and the world to him. He sits loose in his
affections to it. He passes through it as a pilgrim and stranger. When
living under its smiles, and enjoying a large share of its good things, he
rejects it as his portion, and is disposed to say, “ I would not live always
here.” He desires a better country. What is most valuable in his eyes
he has sent before him, and therefore feels it easy to follow. His trea¬
sure is in heaven, there the better part of his heart — his desires are also ;
the remainder is kept down chiefly by its connection with the body, and
this being extricated by the hand of death, he soars to his native ele¬
ment. He dies willingly. He puts off tlfis tabernacle. He is not driven
or dragged out of the world, but “ departs to be with Christ ” — leaves
the world to go to his Father and his home.

If it cost him a pang of regret (as it sometimes does) to part with Ins

402

SERMON Xlll.

earthly relations, who depend on him, and to whom he is tenderly
attached, faith overcomes this at the last, and he leaves his fatherless
children, his widow, and other friends, to the care of the Angel who
redeemed him from all evil, and fed him all his life long. His friends
in Christ he knows shall soon follow him. On his deathbed he is
sometimes able to speak comfortably to them, by expressing his assur¬
ance, not only as to his own personal happiness, but as to the appear¬
ance which God will make in behalf of his church on earth : “ I die,
but God will surely visit you. ” He does not need to regret his leaving
those ordinances which were the most delightful to him here ; for the
fruit of the vine, which was sweet to his taste at a communion-table,
he shall “ drink new in his Father’s kingdom.” The society which he
enjoyed below he exchanges for far better society above, including, not
only all his friends deceased in the Lord, but patriarchs, prophets and
apostles, yea, more and better than they ; for he goes to join “ an in¬
numerable company of angels, the general assembly and church of the
first-born, which are written in heaven, and God, the Judge of all, and
the spirits of just men made perfect, and Jesus, the Mediator of the
new covenant.”

Lastly, I cannot say time would fail me (for it would take but a short
time to say all I know on the subject), but speech and ideas would fail
me, were I to attempt to describe the blessedness of that state into
which death ushers the soul of a righteous man, as a sure prelude and
earnest of what awaits him in body and soul at the resurrection of the
just. 0 how little do we know of the meaning of the words and figures
which the Spirit has employed to help us to form some faint conceptions
of this! Who can tell what is included in the immediate, full, and un¬
interrupted vision and fruition of God — in being ever with the Lord —
in knowing even as we are known, and loving as we are loved — in God’s
wiping away all tears from our eyes — in the Lamb, who is in the midst
of the throne, feeding and leading to living fountains of waters— in
having faith swallowed up in sight, hope in enjoyment, desire in delight,
and the remembrance of all the ills which grieved and vexed and op¬
pressed us here, lost in the overwhelming discovery that they have
wrought for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory I

Who that considers these things is not ready to exclaim, “ Let me
die the death of the righteous ? ” Ah 1 my brethren, there lies the
danger. Who will not say so ? Balaam did it. Any ungodly man
may do it. Many, many, wish to drink of this cup who never shall
taste it — no, not a drop of it to cool their parched tongue.

II. This leads me to the caution administered by the text : for, from
whatever motive it was spoken, it was certainly “ written for our
admonition. ” I shall comprise what I have to say on this head in two
particulars.

1, It is a real wish. It is not words and no more. The speaker

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS,

403

believes — he feels — he feels deeply, that the death of the righteous is
desirable. Balaam repeated his wish, “Let me die the death of the
righteous, and let my last end be like his.”

Marvel not at this. All men wish to be happy, and to shun and
secure themselves against misery. How much soever they are in love
with “ sin,” they do not love “ the wages of sin.” Man was created for
immortality, and there are on his mind traces of his destination which
' the most wicked and profane cannot entirely erase. The thought of a
future world, and a state after death, will intrude unwelcome. Hence
anxieties, fears, forebodings. What more natural than to wish to die
like those who have spent tlieii- life in preparation for eternity ! Many
who are far from allowing that they are bad men, have a secret con¬
sciousness — a latent suspicion, that all things are not right, and as they
ought to be. The consciences of worldly men tell them, that however
pleasing the life they lead, it is not that which conducts to glory, honour,
and immortality. They have their hopes, but the thought of death is
sufficient to damp these ; their hearts misgive them in their serious
moments ; and, while rootedly averse to the exercise and enjoyments
which characterise the life of the godly man, they would fain exchange
lots with him in the end. Perhaps, too, they flatter themselves, that
such desires, especially when expressed in prayers, may do something
toward the attainment of their object. This is a fond imagination;
but what will not a deceitful heart, in love with sin, conceive and bring
forth ?

2. It is a mere wish, and therefore vain and useless. It has no imme¬
diate influence on the life, and can have no remote effect on the death,
of the men by whom it is indulged. It leaves the will and affections
unchanged, yea, untouched. So far from bringing fruit to perfection,
it is barren and fruitless ; it does not even put forth the germ of good
resolutions. It is dead, being alone.

“Wishing, of all employments, is the worst —

Wishing, that constant hectic of a fool.” i

"What is a wish? An inactive desire. It is the breathing after some¬
thing desirable, when the means of obtaining it are out of our power,
or we feel an invincible repugnance to use them. On both suppositions
we make no exertions, and cannot properly be said to have either desires
or hopes. W e may wish for impossibilities, or what is next to them. A
beggar may wish to be a king, but he cannot be said seriously to desire
it. The confirmed drunkard, when he sees the advantages of sobriety,
or dreads the effects of intemperance on his constitution, may wish for
the health and longevity of the sober man, but he cannot properly be
said to desire them. There are moral as well as natural impossibilities ;
and those of the former kind are the greater of the two. The wish in
our text may be said to partake of the nature of both. The mendicant

1 Yomig’s Night Thoughts, Night IV.

404

SERMON XIII.

who goes from door to door, and sitting on a dunghill, feeds on the
garbage which the dogs have left, will ascend a throne sooner than the
unrighteous man shall inlierit the kingdom of heaven, or die the death of
the righteous.

To what shall I liken those who trust in this lying refuge ? or where
shall I find anything which approaches to their infatuation? To go
forth to meet the King of Terrors with no other armour of defence
besides these fig-leaved wishes, is madness beyond that of the prophet,
who, riding on an ass, with a staff in his hand, was blindly rushing on
the drawn sword of the angel who guarded the road. During the ages
of ignorance and superstition, kings and warriors, who had spent their
lives in blood and dissipation, when they found their end approaching,
were accustomed to go to a convent, and cause themselves to be dressed
in the garb of a monk, imagining that if they died in these holy vest¬
ments, their souls would go to Paradise. Even this opinion, of which
it is difficult to say whether it be more ridiculous or impious — this
attempt to die by benefit of clergy, and to gain admission into heaven
by stealth in borrowed garments, is not worse than that which we are
opposing. If the death of the righteous were desirable on the ground
of anything connected with the external circumstances of their dissolu¬
tion, or if their happiness after death were independent of their charac¬
ter and internal dispositions, Balaam’s wish would not be so preposter¬
ous, though it would still be vain and fruitless. But this is not the
case. What is it to die the death of the righteous, but to die a righteous
man 1 Were it possible for a wicked man to gain admittance to heaven,
he would feel like Doeg among the priests at Kob, detained before the
Lord, and like Satan among the sons of God. Heaven would be no
heaven to an unholy person : its employments would be a burden, its
pleasures a torment ; and the presence of God, which is the life of all
its blessed inhabitants, death to him.

0 then beware of listening to this delusion, or indulging the hopes
which it is apt to engender ! Take it along with you — lay it to heart,
that to have a desirable death you must be righteous. This brings
me to the matter of examination which the text presents ; or, to
speak,

III. Of the character of those whose death is desirable. There are
two questions here ; Who are the righteous ? Am I of the number ?
We shall endeavour to answer the first ; let your consciences, as we
proceed, reply to the second.

“ There is none righteous, no, not one.” None are less disposed to
dispute this humbling truth — this levelling doctrine— than those who
are righteous, because by the 'grace of God they are so. They are all
ready to acknowledge that they were by nature the children of dis¬
obedience and wrath, and to ascribe to the mercy of God the distinction
which has been created between them and others of their race. This,

THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS.

405

then, is the first mark by which you are to try yourselves. Have you
been convinced of sin — brought to see and be affected with your discon-
formity to the holy law of God, in conduct, conversation, and thought 1
Have you been led to trace all your actual transgressions to the fountain
of a heart deceitful and radically corrupted ] And have you been per¬
suaded that you were justly obnoxious to the divine displeasure, and
lying under a sentence of condemnation, incapable of doing anything
for your own relief 1

Such as are righteous have received the gift of righteousness by faith
in Jesus Christ. This God offers to all freely in the Gospel, and
imputes to the believer. On the ground of it he justifies him from all
the charges of the law, acquits or declares him righteous. Here is a
second mark by which you are to try yourselves. Persuaded that the
obedience and death of Christ furnish a righteousness commensurate to
aU the claims of the holy and violated law, and which God not only
approves, but has provided and reveals for the express purpose of
justifying the ungodly, have you, under the teaching and influence of
the Holy Spirit, fled to it by faith as your refuge and the foundation

of your rest? Is it the sole ground of your peace, and hope, and

confidence, in the prospect of death, and of appearing before the
judgment-seat? Do you renounce all dependence on your own per¬
sonal merits or goodness? and is it not only your wish, but also

your lively and animating desire to be “ found in Christ, not having
your own righteousness, but that which is of God by faith ?”

But all who are righteous in the primary, evangelical sense of the
word, are also holy in their dispositions. The relative change made on
their state by justification is accompanied by a real change on their
hearts, effectuated by divine power tlirough the instrumentality of the
word. By means of the light of divine knowledge, which is made to
pervade the whole soul, not only are their consciences pacified, but
their hearts are purified, rectified, and reduced to a cheerful conformity
to the eternal law of righteousness. Examine yourselves by this test.
Are your hearts right with God, and sound in his statutes ? Do you
love him supremely? is it your desire to please him in all things?
Do you esteem his commandments concerning all things to be
right, and hate every false and wicked way ? Have your affections
been disengaged from the world, and set on things above, where
Christ is ?

In fine, the righteous have a holy practice regulated by the moral
law. Instead of considering themselves as released by their redemp¬
tion from any moral duty, they judge that they are laid under new and
stronger obligations to holiness in all manner of conversation. “ They
are righteous before God, walking in all his commandments and ordi¬
nances blameless.” Try yourselves by this. Is your obedience universal
and unexceptioned ? Do you exercise yourselves to have consciences
void of offence toward God and toward man ? “ Little children, let no

406

SERMON XIII.

man deceive you : lie that doth righteousness is righteous, even as he
is righteous. In this the children of God are manifest, and the children
of the devil. Whosoever doth not righteousness is not of God, neither
he that loveth not his brother.” In many things you are conscious of
offending, but you do not live in the allowed transgression of any divine
precept ; you feel that sin dwells in you, and obtains the mastery for a
time over the better part of your nature, but you are engaged in a con¬
stant warfare against it, abhor yourselves so far as you are involved in
its pollutions, and long for the time when you shall be completely set
free from its power.

Does your character, gospel hearers, answer in any good degree to
the description which has been given ? If not, then you are among the
unrighteous ; and you must die their death. Yes ; if death overtake
you (and it may not be far off) — if it overtake you in this condition,
you must “ die in your sins and as death leaves, judgment shall find
you. When you survey the enclosed field of death, you read many a
monumental inscription and epitaph, closed by a text of holy writ ; but
there is one text, which would suit them aU, and might be written on
the gate of every burying-ground : “ He that is unjust, let him be imjust
still j and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still ; he that is righteous,
let him be righteous still, and he that is holy, let him be holy still.
And behold I come quickly, and my reward is with me, to give every
man according as his work shall be.” 0 beware of that thief of time,
and most successful purveyor of hell, procrastination. Keject not, or,
which amounts to the same thing, shift not the offers of grace and calls
to repentance, which are addressed to you. “ Now is the accepted time ;
now the day of salvation.” The approach of death is not the only thing
you have to dread. Before that period arrive God may give you up to
a reprobate mind, as a just punishment for your voluntary and seff-
contracted obstinacy and infatuation. Thus shall you be as to aU good
hope “ dead, while you live — twice dead,” like a tree blasted by the
bolt of heaven, and plucked up by the roots. “ He that being often
reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that
vsdthout remedy.”^ There are favourable seasons, which, if misim-
proved, shall never return. The man who originally uttered the words
of the text is an awful instance of this. After being restrained, reproved,
enlightened, and favoured with such discoveries of the blessedness of
the righteous, as to feel and express the most ardent wishes to “ stand
in their lot at the end of the days,” he relapsed into his former
state, became more depraved than ever, “ taught Balak to cast a
stumblingblock before the children of Israel,”^ and perished in his
iniquity.

I repeat it — for gospel hearers do not appear sufficiently aware of the
truth — there are to every person under the preaching of the word, and
the discipline of Providence, seasons of visitation, which, if misimproved,

1 Prov. xxix. 1. Rev. ii. 14.

THE DEATH OF THE EIGHTEOUS.

407

will never return — soft moments — times of awakening, enlightening,
relenting, when the ears are open to instruction, when conscience speaks
and the heart listens, when the stirrings and striving of the Spirit of
God are felt, when the vanity of the present world is seen, and the
powers of the world to come lay hold on the soul, when Satan is
thrown down, and his prisoner, sighing for an unknown liberty, drags
in his chains toward the spot on which a great light shines. Thou art
not far from the kingdom of God, 0 sinner ! Lift up a prayer : one
efibrt more, and all will be well. Ministers of the gospel, and all who
know the value of an immortal soul, help with your prayers ! Now he
stands on the limit which divides the kingdoms of darkness and light.
One foot is on the line, and the other is lifted up, and stands on tiptoe
— he hesitates — his resolution fails — he looks behind — the world rushes
into his heart — he falls back — devils shout, and angels retire, covering
their faces with their wings !

408

SERMON XIV.

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHRIST,

“ I know whom I have believed, and am persxiaded that he is able to keep that
which I have committed unto him against that day.” — 2 Tim. i. 12.

Thebe are certain periods in the life of every man, marked by events
affecting his happiness, which he can never forget, and on which he
cannot reflect without emotions of gratitude and joy. Such, for ex¬
ample, are the periods when he first set out in the world, when he
formed a connection for life, or when he was providentially saved
from some dangerous distemper or imminent calamity. There are
similar periods in the life of every Christian man ; as when he first
took a seat at the Lord’s table, when he was admitted to sensible
communion with God in that or any other ordinance, when he was
relieved from spiritual distress, or experienced a revival of religion
in his soul after a season of deadness and decay. But of all others
the most important era in a Christian’s life is that at which he was
first led and disposed to commit his soul to its Saviour. With respect
to other mercies of a spiritual kind, they all take their character from
this, and may be traced back to it as their source. But for it they never
would have been, and by it they are what they are. Nothing is asserted
of other seasons like to what is said by Christ of this ; “There is joy in
heaven in the presence of the angels over one sinner that repenteth —
joy that a soul has been saved from death, that a multitude of sins has
been covered, that a brand has been plucked from the fire and con¬
verted into a luminary which, after lighting many on the way to heaven,
shall itself shine as a star m the firmament for ever and ever. And
with respect to external mercies of which a Christian may have been a
partaker, the greatest of them only marks an era in his temporal exist¬
ence, whereas his conversion to God through Christ marks an era in
eternity, inasmuch as it produces a change upon him which draws after
it his eternal felicity. Other events which have befallen him, how joy¬
ful soever in themselves, may have led to or been followed by distress¬
ing results, so that the recollection of them excites pain rather than
pleasure. The Lord who gave may have taken away. But here is an
event which is a source of unmingled joy, and on which we may con¬
tinue to reflect with growing satisfaction and delight. We may find

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHRIST.

409

reason to repent of the confidence which we have placed in the best of
our fellow-creatures. The person to whose care we had intrusted our
most valuable property, perhaps our all in the world, may pr^ve un¬
faithful or unfortunate, and in consequence of this we may be ruined
or reduced to beggary. But there is no danger of anything like this
happening to the Christian, who may say boldly, and at all times, with
the apostle in the text, “ I know whom I have believed,” or trusted,
“ and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have com¬
mitted unto him against that day.”

There are two things in these words ; first, what he had done, and
secondly, his persuasion in reference to it. He had believed a certain
person, and had committed or intrusted something to him. He does
not name either the trustee or the trust, the depositary or the deposit.
It was unnecessary for him to mention them in writing to his son
Timothy, nor is it necessary to be more specific in addressing Christians.
“ He whom I have believed,” and “ that which I have committed to
him,” are more familiar than household words — they are heart-words,
with all who have been taught of God and made wise to salvation.
“ Whom, having not seen, they love, in whom, though now they see
him not, yet believing they rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of
glory,” in the hope of “ receiving the end of their faith, even the salva¬
tion of their souls,” which they have committed to him against the day
of his second and glorious appearance. Happy they who have adopted
this wise course ! All that is precious and dear to them is in safe keep¬
ing and sure preservation ; and as they have the highest security for it,
so they may be at perfect ease amidst all the vicissitudes of life — at
losses, privations and troubles — at death, and in prospect of the judg¬
ment. As a person whose capital is invested beyond all ordinary pos¬
sibility of risk and at good interest, hears, during a season of national
distress, of fortunes wrecked and families ruined, without any other
feeling than pity for the sufferers, and secured against want himself,
ungrudgingly “ disperses abroad and gives to the poor ; ” so the believ¬
ing and assured Christian is “ not afraid of evil tidings, his heart is
fixed, trusting in the Lord ;” having always all sufficiency in all things,
he may “ abound to every good work and “ being comforted in all his
tribulation, he is able to comfort them who are in any trouble by the
comfort wherewith he himself is comforted of God.”

We shall, consider the act of committing the soul to our Lord
Jesus Christ, which may be useful not only in helping the believer to
review his former deed, but also in exciting the sinner to take the same
course. And, secondly, we shall consider the persuasion which the
believer may have of the safety of his eternal interests in the hands of
the Redeemer.

I. In the first place, the believer commits his soul to Christ under a
deep impression of its inestimable value. There are some even in places

2 E

410

SERMON XIV.

favoured with the light of revelation, who do not appear so much as to
know or believe that they have souls. They are like the heir to a great
estate or a kingdom, who, having been brought up in profound ignorance
of his birth, associates with the lowest company, and addicts himself to
the most ignoble occupations, grovelling pursuits and amusements ; or
like the heaven-struck monarch of Babylon, whose “ heart was changed
from man’s, and a beast’s heart was given unto him.” 0 what little
value do the greater part of men set on their souls ! And at what a
vile price are they willing to sell them ! All their time and attention
are devoted to making provision for the flesh — preserving, satisfying,
dressing, and displaying the body. Provided it be well with their
bodies, they care not how it fare with their souls — though they be
naked, famishing, diseased, dying, dead in trespasses and sins.

How irrational and unnatural is such conduct ! Is it necessary seri¬
ously to expose it ? The body, though “ fearfully and wonderfully
made,” was constructed of earthy materials, and will return and be re¬
solved into its original dust. The soul is an immaterial and spiritual
substance, simple and uncompounded, and formed for immortality. By
the former we are akin to the beasts that perish ; by the latter we are
allied to angels and the God that made us. It is the soul that thinks,
understands, judges, discerns between truth and falsehood, between
right and wrong, remembers the past, and penetrates into the future,
traces effects to their causes, from the most obvious and near to the
great first cause, and is the seat of all the affections, social, moral, and
religious. It was created at first after the image of its Almighty
Maker, in knowledge, righteousness, and true holiness ; and though sin
has despoiled it of its moral beauty and impaired its intellectual vigour,
yet it still exhibits the remains of its pristine grandeur, like a defaced
picture or a palace in ruins. And it is capable of having the divine
image reinstamped upon it. The soul, and not the body, is the proper
subject of happiness or misery ; and can there be a more arresting
thought than this, that it must be either happy or miserable through an
endless existence ? The soul is the man, the body only its temporary
habitation. The soul is the jewel, the body only the casket in which
it is deposited ; and as the casket is frail, and ready every moment
to fall in pieces, it concerns us greatly to commit the jewel to one
who is able to keep it. “ What is a man profited, if he gain the
whole world, and lose his own soul ? Or, what shall a man give in ex¬
change for his soul ?” This truth flashes conviction into the mind of
the sinner at the moment that he believes on Christ. “ The redemption
of the soul is precious.” “ 0 let my soul live !”

2. The believer commits his soul to Christ under a conviction of its
danger. He is not only intimately persuaded of its value, he is also
strongly impressed with a sense of its great and imminent danger of
perishing. He perceives that it “stands in jeopardy every hour,” so
long as it remains in its present state. He is convinced of the evil of

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHRIST.

411

sin — of its God-provoking, soul-ruining nature. He hears the sentence
which has gone forth from the lips of the Judge, “ The soul that sinneth
shall die conscience tells him that his has incurred that sentence; he
feels that it has already taken hold of him in spiritual death, or the
alienation of his heart from all that is divinely good ; and he dreads its
full execution in the second death, or an entire and eternal separation
from the fountain of goodness. 0 that such impressions were more
common among the hearers of the word ! A sense of danger naturally
produces a desire to escape from it ; though a supernatural communi¬
cation of light and power is required to show a man the true way, and
to determine him to take it. The convinced sinner looks around him
for safety, and the anxious inquiry is heard. What must I do 1 “ What
ails thee, distracted man 1 Thou art in health, thou hast every worldly
comfort, all thy friends are about thee. Whom or what seekest thou ?”
“ One to whom I may commit my guilty, perishing soul. A place
where I may be safe from the wrath to come.” Thus is he shut up to
the way of faith which the Gospel reveals. As in an inundation, when
the increasing waters threaten to sweep everything before them, the
affrighted inhabitants betake themselves, with their most valuable
goods, to some high place, so does the alarmed and enlightened sinner
hasten to commit himself to Christ, as a refuge from the storm, and a
covert from the tempest. “ 0 that I had the wings of a dove !” “ Who
are these that fly as a cloud, and as doves to their windows ?” These
are they that have been warned to flee from the wrath to come.

3. The believer commits his soul to Christ under the thorough per¬
suasion that he is unable to keep it himself. No man will intrust that
which is precious in his eyes to another, so long as he deems it perfectly
safe in his own hands. Every man is the natural guardian of his own
soul ; and had he not lost the ability of preserving it which he origin¬
ally possessed, he would never have been required or exhorted to commit
it to any other. It was this inability on our part which rendered the
interposition of a Mediator and Eedeemer necessary. “ When we were
without strength, Christ died for the ungodly ; and what the law could
not do in that it was weak through the flesh, God ” accomplished by
“ sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh.” What is it that
keeps so many at a distance from the Saviour whom God hath provided,
and prevents them from intrusting him with their eternal interests ?
Want of a thorough and practical belief of the Scripture doctrine of
man’s fallen state, and its fatal consequences, legally in exposing him to
the judicial displeasure of Heaven, and spiritually in indisposing him
to all that is morally good and acceptable in the sight of God. “ They
being ignorant of God’s righteousness, and going about to establish their
own righteousness, have not submitted themselves to the righteousness
of God.” Arminianism is the offspring of ignorance and pride ; ignor¬
ance of the extent of our misery, and a proud aversion to be indebted to
another for that which we are utterly unable to do for ourselves. It

412

SERMON XIV,

existed as an operating principle long before it entered into a body of
divinity. It is much older than the individual who in the seventeenth
century gave it a name among Protestants. It is the doctrine of Popery,
rendered more seductive by its refinement from superstition ; it is the
old error of Judaism somewhat Christianised ; it is the natural religion
of fallen man. God found it necessary to place cherubim and a flaming
sword which turned every way to guard the tree of life, and to prevent
Adam from presumptuously seeking life in that garden in which he had
forfeited the blessing. And nothing but the sword of the law-curse,
suspended from heaven and flaming on their consciences, will deter the
posterity of Adam from seeking salvation by that covenant which was
originally “ ordained unto life,” but which now “ worketh wrath.” ^ We
must have “ the sentence of death in ourselves that we should not trust
in ourselves,” before we will “trust in God who raiseth the dead.”*
The person who speaks in our text was a memorable example of this.
He “ was alive without the law once,” and, a stranger to its spirituality,
thought himself blameless touching its righteousness. With these views
he not only saw nothing desirable in Jesus of Nazareth, but judged that
he ought to do many things contrary to his name, and reviled him as
the enemy of the law and the minister of sin. But the light which
shone upon him on the road to Damascus dispelled this fond delusion.
And what a discovery did he make ! The righteous man turned out to
be the chief of sinners ; the wisdom on which he plumed himself, arrant
folly ; his zeal for God, mad rage against the Lord and his anointed ;
and his soul, which he fondly imagined to be decked with “ flne linen,
clean and white, even the righteousness of saints,” he now saw to be
covered with rags, which, instead of adorning it, only added to its de¬
formity. Then, says he, “ Wliat things were gain to me, I counted loss
for Christ ; yea doubtless I count all things but loss for the excellency
of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, that I may win Christ and
be found in him.”

The person who has been made to know himself would not trust him¬
self with his own salvation for a single moment. Though the Saviour
were to take his soul into his hands, and offer to give it back “ washed
and sanctified, and justified,” he would humbly refuse the offer. Though
he were to present it as pure and upright as was that soul which the
Almighty breathed into the body which had been just moulded by his
own fingers, the enhanced value of the gift would heighten the dread of
the responsibility, and the Christian would commit himself anew to the
Redeemer, saying, “ Preserve my soul, for I am holy.” He remembers
Adam his father, and Eve that bare him, and he shudders when he
thinks of the issue of their being “ left to the freedom of their own will,”
and the breach of that trust which was rendered awfully sacred by its
involving the fate of millions unborn. Knowing this, the believer com¬
mits himself to Christ for all and for ever.

1 Rom. vii. 10 ; iv. 15.

■ 2 Cor. i. 9.

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHEIST.

413

4. Tliis is done in the confidence that Christ is willing to undertake

and able to keep the trust. Benhadad, in his extremity, committed
himself to Ahab on the report of his servants : “ Peradventure he will
save thy life, for we have heard that the kings of the house of Israel are
merciful kings.” ^ The lepers who were starving at the gate of Samaria
were determined to throw themselves into the camp of the Syrians, by
this reasoning, “ If they save us alive, we shall five ; and if they kill us,
we shall but die.” ^ But no sinner is required to take the important
step in the text upon a peradventure, nor from the mere consideration
tliat it cannot be worse with him than it already is. It is no leap in the
dark to which the Gospel calls him, no desperate plunge to escape de¬
struction. His eyes are opened ; he knows what he is doing ; he is per¬
suaded that Christ is “ able to save to the uttermost all that come to
God by him and that he is not more able than he is willing. Yes,
sinner, you have the surest grounds and the highest encouragements.
The person of the Saviour, his office, his qualifications both personal
and official, the revealed relation in which he stands to sinners of man¬
kind, his outstretched hands, his entreating voice, the high assurance of
heaven, the concurrent and harmonious testimony of all who have
trusted him — these are your grounds and encouragements. And are
they not sufficient 1 would you require more ? “ Behold, now is the

accepted time, now the day of salvation ! Come unto me, all ye that
labour and are heavy laden ; and I will give you rest. Him that cometh
to me I will in no wise cast out. The Spirit and the bride say. Come ;
let him that heareth say. Come ; and whosoever will, let him come.
This man receiveth sinners. His name is <Jesus; and it is a faithful
saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the
world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.” What shall we say to
these things 1 “ Lord, to whom shall we go 1 Thou hast the words of
eternal fife.”

5. The soul is committed to Christ by an act of faith. The expressions,
“I have believed” and “I have committed,” are of the same import,
and are interchanged by the apostle in describing his exercise. The
deposit is not only made believingly, but it is made by believing. This
distinction, as it appears to me, is not verbal or trivial, but of great im¬
portance in the evangelical system, as serving at once to illustrate the
glories of divine grace and to secure the peace and comfort of the con¬
vinced sinner. I shall explain my meaning. The sinner may be said to
commit his soul to Christ affectionately, penitently, humbly ; because
the gracious dispositions intimated by these words natively spring from
true faith in Christ, invariably accompany, and cannot for a moment be
altogether separated from its exercise. But still the soul is not com¬
mitted to Christ by an act of love, or repentance, or humility, but by an
act of faith. The commitment is believing ; it is the person’s reliance
on God’s testimony concerning his Son ; it is his trusting in Christ for

1 1 Kings, XX. 31. • 2 Kings, vii. 4.

414

SEKMON XIV.

his own salvation. Particularly, you are not to confound this commend¬
ation of the soul to the Saviour with its dedication to him. All that
believe “ give their ownselves to the Lord.” ^ But this is subsequent, in
the order of nature, to the act of which we speak, and proceeds upon it
according to the nature of evangelical exercise. They are as distinct as
the act of a condemned traitor, when he throws himself on the mercy of
his prince, and pleads the amnesty which he had published, is from the
act of the same individual, when, being pardoned and readmitted to
favour, he renews his oath of allegiance. The one is the act of a dying
man, the other of a man restored to life ; the one is an act of faith or
trust, the other an act of homage or obedience. You may trace the
difference between them, and also the influence which the one has upon
the other, in the exercise of David, as it is beautifully delineated in the
hundred and sixteenth Psalm.

6. This commitment is a most comprehensive act. It is so in its sub¬
ject, which includes spirit, and soul, and body ; for, though “ the salva¬
tion of your souls ” is eminently “ the end of your faith,” Christians, yet
are you found “waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of your
body.” It is also comprehensive in its ends. First and mainly as to
the soul ; it contemplates pardon and purity, grace and glory, wisdom,
and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption. Let no man be
afraid that the sacred cause of holiness will suffer from the doctrine
which gives the undivided honour of salvation to the Redeemer of God’s
election. Who art thou, 0 man of unclean lips, who drinkest in iniquity
like water, that thou shouldst think that thou canst secure the interests
of holiness better than the High and Holy One who inhabiteth eternity 1
The believer is convinced that sin has been his ruin, and he can find
comfort only by trusting to him who “ saves his people from their sins.”
He commits his soul to Christ, to be delivered from the wrath to come,
and to be delivered from the bondage and pollution of sin, to be sancti¬
fied as well as justified, to be made meet for as well as put in possession
of the inheritance of the saints in light. And then as to the body: know¬
ing that this integral, though inferior, part of his nature was “ bought
with a price,” the believer has committed it also to Christ, that it may
be sustained under infirmities and protected amidst dangers ; that it
may be preserved from “fleshly lusts which war against the soul;”
that, though maimed and mangled by disease or violence, its members
which remain may be employed “ as instruments of righteousness unto
God ; ” that it may be redeemed from the power of the grave, and may
at last be presented faultless and “fashioned like unto His glorious
body.” In short, the believer confides in the Lord for “ an everlasting
salvation, comprehending conservation in a state of grace, with all that
provision, direction, and comfort which he needs, in travelling through
the wilderness of this world to “ the better country.” His language is,
“ That which concerneth me the Lord will make perfect.”

1 2 Cor. viii. 5.

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHKIST.

415

“ The salvation which is in Christ Jesus” is one, though it includes a
variety of blessings. The whole is the object of faith. Not that the
believer can take it all in at once, or have a distinct apprehension of its
several parts; his views gradually enlarge, as he “ looks upon the things
that are not seen ; ” new beauties and new blessings arise ; but still
there is not one of these which he does not recognise as belonging to
that salvation which was the object of his faith when he “ first trusted
in Christ.”

Lastly, the believer commits himself to Christ with a view to the day
of his second and glorious appearance. This the apostle specifies in the
text. Disbelief of a future judgment lurks at the bottom of that indif¬
ference which multitudes indulge about their souls ; and a habit of
putting the day of account far away in their thoughts is one great cause
why the hearers of the Gospel procrastinate day after day the great con¬
cern of their salvation. Ah ! my brethren, if you believed with the
heart, as you confess with the mouth, that God hath appointed a day
in which he will judge the world by that man whom he hath constituted
the Saviour of the world, and that he shall come with flaming fire to
take vengeance on all who know not God, and obey not the Gospel, you
would not give — you would not be able to give sleep to your eyes, or
slumber to your eyelids, until you had obtained a saving acquaintance
with him whose friendship and favourable recognition will be all in aU
on that day. The awakened sinner has a deep and realising conviction
of these two truths in their indissoluble connection ; “ It is appointed to
men once to die, and after death the judgment.” And knowing the
terror of the Lord, he is persuaded to “ be reconciled to God ” by faith
in him who was “ once offered to bear the sins of many, and who, to
them that look for him, will appear the second time without sin unto
salvation.”

It is one mark of a genuine believer that he loves and looks for the
second coming of Christ — he looks forward with hope and desire to that
day, the very thought of which is an object of aversion and dismay to
others. Why '? Just because he hath committed his soul to him against
that day, not only to be saved from its terrors, but to be made partici¬
pant of its joys. That will be the day of accounts, not so properly to
the believer, as to Him whom he made his sole trustee and surety, and
the result will be equally creditable to the one and profitable to the
other. Then will he give a good account of that which was committed
to him ; and none and nothing shall be lost. With respect to all who
were committed to him by his Father, and who were determined by
grace to commit themselves to him (and they shall eventually be the
same), he will say, “ Here am I, and the children who were given me.”
That is the day in which he will make up his jewels — the day of the
manifestation of the sons of God, when the Redeemer shall bring their
souls with him from heaven, and call their bodies to him out of the
grave, and shall present both faultless before the presence of his glory

416

SERMON XIV.

with exceeding joy. To this the believer has a respect when he commits
himself to Christ, and, in the midst of his severest afflictions, and in the
view of death and the grave, exults with an ancient saint, “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.”

Let me add an inference or two from what has been said on this
subject.

In the first place, you may see that, though there is no pre-requisite
in the sinner *as the ground of faith in Christ, yet there are important
preparations to the exercise of it. The word of the Gospel concerning
the Saviour, together with the call of God to embrace him, is the proper
and sole ground of faith, and all are warranted to rely on him, what¬
ever their character is, and whatever their conduct may have been.
But there is a knowledge, and there are convictions which are neces¬
sarily presupposed in their believing to the saving of the soul. They
must know and be convinced that they have souls to be saved — that
there is a law which they are under and have transgressed — that they
are guilty, and accursed, and depraved, and without strength. They
need to be awakened, and alarmed, and convicted. Their false hopes
need to be swept away, and their legal pride brought down by exhibi¬
tions of the spirituality and extent of the law of God. These things
may be eftected suddenly, but they mmt be efl'ected ; and generally they
are effected in a gradual way. Ministers must travail in birth till Christ
be formed in their hearers \ and it is not every child of the promise that
is brought forth by a single pang. The fiery law was given from
Mount Sinai before the Gospel was published from Mount Sion. Though
the Lord was not in the whirlwind, and fire, and earthquake, yet they
were necessary to prepare the jirophet for listening to the “ still small
voice.” The ministry of the Baptist preceded that of our Saviour ; and
the preaching of the law is still neces^ry in subserviency to the gospel.
The Spirit convinces men first of sin, and then of righteousness. The
wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness, as well
as the righteousness which is of God by faith ; and he that is not con¬
vinced of the former will not believe the latter. Legal doctrine is de¬
structive to souls, because it turns men away from the only Saviour ■,
but there is reason to fear that multitudes have been and are lulled into
a false and dangerous security by not having their natural condition laid
open, and by not having their attention turned to those things which the
Spirit ordinarily blesses as means preparatory to faith.

2. You may perceive that the doctrine which we have been teaching
is far from being unfavourable to holiness or good works. They are
ignorant of the scriptural doctrine of salvation by faith, and strangers
to its influence, who bring tliis groundless charge against it. Some are
afraid that the incidcation of a full confidence in the Saviour will make

THE SOUL COMMITTED TO CHRIST.

417

men careless about the means of salvation. Not so was the apostle ;
“ Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling ; for it is God
that worketh in you.” Does a man become careless about liis money
when he has deposited it in the bank 1 Does a sick person become
careless about his health, when he intrusts Ms cure to an able physician?
And the more unreserved and implicit the confidence which he places
in his skill, will he not be the more careful in using his prescriptions,
and complying with his advice ?

“ The grace of God which briugeth salvation teacheth ” all who em¬
brace it, “ to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world,
looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great
God and our Saviour Jesus CMist.” I do not say that all who profess
tMs doctrine have been so taught. I know that there are some who
pretend a great regard for evangelical trath, who fall far short of others
in moral conduct, who are remiss and partial, if not faithless, in the
discharge of relative duties, covetous, selfish, unsocial, uncharitable.
Such are the characters of whom Paul could not speak but in tears :
“ Enemies to the cross of Christ,” though they profess to be its friends,
“ who mind earthly things, whose God is their belly, and whose end is
destruction.” Such also are the professors of whom the apostle James
speaks, or rather whom he repudiates : “ What doth it profit, my
brethren, though a man say that he hath faith, and hath not works ?
Can faith save him ? Even so faith, if it have not works, is dead, being
alone.” Remember that there is a wide and essential ditference between
being justified by faith only, and justified by that faith which is alone.
True and saving faith is never alone ; it worketh by love — by love to
God, which is evinced by keeping his commandments, and by love to
our fellow-creatures, which is shown by doing them good as we have
opportunity.

There are two sayings which the apostle lays down as equally true,
and charges ministers to inculcate in their preaching. The one is im¬
mediately addressed to all the hearers of the Gospel : “ This is a faith¬
ful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into
the world to save sinners.” ^

The second, which is like unto it, is addressed to believers : “ This is
a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm constantly ;
that they which have believed in God might be careful to maintain
good works.” '

I 1 Tim. j. 16.

2 Titus, iii. 8.

418

SERMON XV.

ASSURANCE.

“ I know whom I have believed, and am fersuaded that he is able to keep that
which I have committed unto him against that day.” — 2 Tim. i. 12.

Having considered, in the former discourse, the exercise of the sinner
in committing his soul to Christ, I now proceed to speak of the per¬
suasion which the believer has of the safety of his deposit. “ I am
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto
him against that day i. e. I am assured of the safety of my soul in his
hands, or that I shall be saved in the day of his glorious appearing.
Let us then endeavour to open up the nature, grounds, and effects of a
scriptural assurance of complete and final salvation.

I begin with premising that this assurance is no apostolical gift, or
extraordinary attainment, confined to the first age of the Gospel, or to a
fiivoured class of Christians. Judas, though an apostle, did not possess
it ; and Paul never speaks of it as a privilege of office, or an effect of
inspiration. He does not say on this as he says on another subject,
“ Am I not an apostle ? have not I seen the Lord 1” He does not
“ come to visions and revelations of the Lord,” he does not speak as one
“ caught up to the third heavens for he knew that he might have
enjoyed all these privileges, and yet “ be a castaway.” It was as a
sinner — the “ chief of sinners,” that he committed his soul to Christ :
and it is as a believer, and on grounds common to all believers in every
age, that he expresses the persuasion in the text. What he here avows
as an individual he elsewhere expresses in the name of all believers ;
“We rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.” And all the saints at
' Home he associates with himself in that triumphant passage : “ Who
shall separate us from the love of Christ 1 I am persuaded that neither
life nor death, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from
the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” God forbid that
we should cut off the streams of Christian consolation, and dry up the
most fertile source of Christian holiness, by confining this attainment
either to apostolical men, or to the primitive Christians. This were not
to “follow their faith, considering the end of their conversation, Jesus
Christ, the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.” Their minds

ASSURANCE.

419

might be more deeply imbued with the Spirit of truth ; but we having
the same Spirit of faith, according as it is written, “ I have believed, and
therefore have I spoken we may believe, and so speak. Every believer
in Christ possesses this persuasion in some degree, and may attain to
the full assurance of understanding, and faith, and hope.

The inquiry is of no minor importance in itself, and it claims parti¬
cular attention at present, when a disposition is evinced to run to
opposite extremes as to the doctrine of Christian assurance. What I
have to advance will fall in under the illustration of the following pro¬
positions, — that it is an intelligent and enlightened persuasion ; that it
rests on the surest grounds, as laid down in the word of God : that
it' is' 'strengthened by Christian experience; that it will stand the
severest test ; and that it exerts a powerful and extensive influence on
the Christian life.

I. It is^aiL. intelligent and enlightened persuasion. “I know — and
am persuaded,” says the apostle. How and whence he knew this, will
afterwards be noticed ; in the mean time, it is proper to observe at the
very outset, that he bases his persuasion on knowledge. What is said
of it in all the riches of its full-grown strength, is true of it in its greenest
and least advanced state— it is the “ assurance of understanding.” It
differs essentially and totally from all blind impulses, all enthusiastic
imaginations, all sudden impressions made on the mind, but of which
the person can give no intelligent or satisfactory account. It is not the
result of dreams or visions. It is not produced by immediate sugges¬
tions of the Spirit. It is not grafted on texts of Scripture ill-under¬
stood, and broken off from their connection, which have been forcibly
injected into the mind, or selected by a kind of spiritual lottery. “This
persuasion cometh not of him that calleth you,” Christian ; but is to
be suspected of delusion, nourishing pride and self-conceit, and creating
a fanciful and presumptuous confidence, accompanied with a feverish
tumult in the affections, which bursts out into extravagance of senti¬
ment and irregularity of conduct, and then gradually subsides and sinks
to the point of freezing indifference and incredulity.

Genuine Christian assurance proceeds from spiritual illumination by
means of the word of God. It is the effect of the Spirit’s “ opening the
understanding to understand the Scriptures,” and to know what they
testify of Christ. “The God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of
glory, give unto you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the know¬
ledge of Christ, that ye may know what is the hope of his calling, and
what the riches of the glory of his inheritance.” “We have known
and believed the Inve of God to us.” “ The Son of Geld is come, and hath
given us an understanding that we may know him that is true.” Faith
is the act of an enlightened mind. The convinced sinner does not com-
nut~himself to the Saviour blindly, or in ignorance of his revealed cha¬
racter and qualifications. The weakest believer is always ready to give

420

SERMON XV.

“ a reason of the hope that is in him.” He cannot answer all the cavils
of adversaries, but he can maintain his cause with the words of truth
and soberness, and sometimes silence the caviller, by the reply of the
man whose eyes the Lord opened, “ Whether what you allege be true
or no, I know not ; but one thing I know, that whereas I was blind,
now I see.” This persuasion is coolly formed, and cautiously expressed,
and it is so because it is enlightened. The Christian, especially at his
first believing, is apt to suspect his perceptions, however clear and satis¬
factory, and to check his assurance, until he has dispassionately ex¬
amined its grounds, and allowed the transport of his mind to subside.

He is apt to go to tiie opposite extreme from the enthusiast : the latter
is presumptuous, the former is jealous and diffident ; the latter is satis¬
fied with too little evidence, the former requires too much ; the latter
mistakes visions for realities, the former, like Thomas of old, suspects
the reality to be a vision. The description given of the state of mind
into which Peter was thrown, when he was suddenly relieved and led
out of prison during the night by the hand of the angel, is illustrative
of what the believer sometimes feels : “ He wist not that it was true
which was done by the angel, but thought he saw a vision. And when
Peter was come to himself, he said. Now I know of a surety that the
Lord hath sent his angel and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod,
and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews. And when he
had considered the thing, he came to the house of Mary, where many
were gathered together praying.” ^

II. This assurance rests on the best and most stable of all grounds.

“ I know whom I have believed.” I know who he is — the great God,
Avlio made all things, and upholds them by the word of his power, and
therefore is mighty to save. I know what he became for the salvation
of sinners— he became a man, a partaker of flesh and blood, like the
children whom he came to redeem, that by wearing their nature he
might be qualified for appearing as their substitute, and doing and en-
du]-ing what was necessary for their liberation. I know him to be Im¬
manuel, the man God’s fellow, who would lay his hand upon both parties,
and by mediation reconcile them. I know that he hath magnified the
law, finished transgression, propitiated justice, and obtained eternal re¬
demption, by the sacrifice of himself, which he ottered once for all upon
the cross ; and I know that, made perfect through suffering, he is now
on the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, bearing “ the keys of
hell and death,” and invested by his Father with power over all flesh
to give eternal life to as many as he hath given him. Knowing this,
the apostle could say, and every believer may say, “ I am persuaded
that he is able to keep what I have committed to him against that day.” ,
Nor does this merely mean that he can, if he will. It is expressive of
moral as well as natural ability, — of all the qualities, personal and offi-

1 Acts, xii. 9, 11, 12.

ASSURANCE.

421

cial, legal and spiritual, which are requisite to give security to those
who confide in him for everlasting salvation. It includes the good-will
and mercy, and faithfulness and sympathy, of the Redeemer, as well as
his authority and power ; the fulness of the Spirit resident in him, as well
as the riches of his merits ; the perfection of his atonement ; the power
of his resurrection ; the plenitude of his dominion ; the prevalence of his
intercession, and the perpetuity of his life and love.

But upon what evidence does the Christian’s persuasion of all this
rest 1 Upon the word and promise of him that cannot lie. Nothing
short of a divine testimony and assurance could have induced the
awakened sinner to intrust Christ with his eternal welfare ; and no¬
thing less will sustain the confidence of a believer, who has obtained a
clearer and ever-increasing insight into the preciousness of the redemp¬
tion of his soul, or preserve him from distracting doubts and fears
amidst the temptations and infirmities by which he feels himself daily
surrounded and oppressed. Woe to his peace of mind, and to his hopes
of maintaining the struggle against the devil, the world, and the flesh,
escaping the evils of life, and triumphing over death and the grave, if
his confidence were built on anything below the word of the Eternal,
who hath confirmed it by his oath, “that by two immutable things,
wherein it is impossible for God to lie, they might have strong consola¬
tion who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before them.”
Woe to the continuance of his peace, if it were based on any act, exercise,
or attainment of his own, if it ebbed and flowed under a secondary in¬
fluence, and if, after being relieved, quickened, and cheered by direct
communication from the Fountain of Light, he were doomed hence¬
forth to receive all his comfort by reflection from his own experience !

The grounds on which a believer entertains a hope of eternal salva¬
tion, are substantially the same with those upon which he was first
induced to rest for pardon and acceptance. Tlie persuasion expressed
by our apostle in the text was nothing more than the continuation or
following out, by repeated acts, of that exercise which he put forth when
he first committed himself to Christ. “ The life that I live in the flesh,
I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself
for me.” — “ The just shall live by faith,” and “ are kept by the power of
God, through faith unto salvation.” Now, upon what grounds does the
believer first commit his soul to the redeemer '} On the divine testi¬
mony concerning Christ in the Gospel. In this testimony there are two
things — the attestation, and the thing attested — the one constituting
the formal, the other the material ground of his confidence. And both
of these are equally important in reference to Christian assurance.
Were the thing testified of minor importance, the divinity of the testi¬
mony might give assurance of the fact, but would not give confidence of
salvation ; and, however important and consolatory the doctrine might
be, it would fail to create confidence if it rested on testimony not
divine. Both of these grounds, however, are to be found in the testi-

422

SERMON XV.

mony of G-od concerning his Son ; and both of them concurred in
giving to the apostle assurance of his final salvation. He was assured
of this, because he knew and was persuaded that Christ was able to keep
that which he had committed to him ; and he was so persuaded, be¬
cause the word of the infallible Jehovah was pledged for its truth. His
faith and his hope rested on the same foundation ; and the same reasons
which induced him at first to venture his eternal all upon Christ, sup¬
ported, under every adverse circumstance, his confidence of obtaining
eternal salvation “ against that day.” The same grounds which induce
a person to commit himself and his property to the sea, — the adaptation
of the vessel to the element on which it is launched, the goodness of the
mast, the cordage, the rudder and the anchor, with the skill of the
mariner, all properly attested to him, — the same grounds give him con¬
fidence during the voyage, and in the midst of the storm ; and if he
forget or lose confidence in these, he will be at his wit’s end, and throw
away all hope, when he sees his bark the sport of wind and wave, and
in danger of being engulfed in the yawning deep, or dashed in pieces on
the rocky shore.

The clearer that the believer’s views are of the object of his faith, the
firmer, of course, will be his assurance. The apostle does not say in
our text, I know that I have believed, or in whom I have believed,
though both were true ; but he says, “ I know whom I have believed,”
because he meant to intimate that what he knew of his Saviour was the
foundation of his confidence. But then, the Christian acquires addi¬
tional knowledge of him after he has believed ; and the more he knows
of Christ, the greater reason he sees to be satisfied with the step which
he has taken, the firmer does his trust become, and the more he is at
ease as to its final results. This is one reason why he prizes so much
the knowledge of Christ, and labours to increase it. “ Yea, doubtless,
and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus my Lord — that I may know him.” ^ This knowledge is
not speculative ; it is practical, it is appropriating ; and the Chris¬
tian’s assurance must rise in proportion to the clearness with which
he discovers the stability and security of the foundation on which he
rests.

If any one should say to you, “Are you not afraid of losing the
money you have intrasted to such a man 1 ” You would reply, “ No, I
am not afraid ; for I know him well — I know him to be a good man,
not only wealthy and substantial, but faithful, active, skilful, and pru¬
dent.” And this confidence admits of being confirmed. You may have
a general knowledge of a fellow-citizen, and report may have warranted
you to form a favourable opinion of his character ; but if he has come
to be intrusted with any part of your property, you will not be satisfied
with the hearing of the ear, — you will be desirous to see him with your
eyes, to visit him, to become personally and familiarly acquainted with

» Phil. iii. 8, 10.

ASSURANCE.

423

him ; in short, everything relating to him and his affairs will he viewed
by you in a new light. So is it with the believer respecting Christ.
There is an action and a reaction in his exercise. The consideration
that I have committed my soul to the Saviour stimulates me to seek
farther acquaintance with him ; and the more enlarged my knowledge
of him becomes, the firmer is my reliance upon him.

III. This assurance is strengthened by Christian experience.

That Christian assurance is of different degrees of strength, and
admits of increase, is plain from the language of Scripture respecting it.
There is an “ assurance,” and a “ full assurance,” yea, “ all riches of the
full assurance.” Those who plead that assurance is a simple idea,
incapable of increase or diminution, not only contradict the Scripture,
and the experience of the saints, but the common feelings of mankind,
as expressed in all languages. The degree of assurance is greater in
some than in others, and greater in the same individual at one time than
at another. The hopes of the Christian are sometimes very lively and
strong at the time of his conversion, and become afterwards fainter and
more unsteady. Hence the apostle exhorts the believing Hebrews to
“ hold fast the beginning of their confidence and the rejoicing of their
hope unto the end,” and warns them against “ casting away their con¬
fidence.” But, generally speaking, this assurance is progressive, and is
enjoyed by the Christian in the highest degree at the end of his course,
when it has been confirmed by long experience.

By Christian experience, I refer here immediately to the proofs which
the believer has derived from his own experience of the gyace, power,
and faithfulness of God in Christ. These are manifold, and always in¬
creasing. Every instance in which a Christian has been enabled to
perform a duty, to surmount a difficulty, to resist a temptation, to
mortify a corruption, or support an affliction, tends to increase his
assurance. In this sense the apostle says: “We glory in tribulations
also ; knowing that tribulation worketh patience ; and patience, experi¬
ence ; and experience, hope ; and hope maketh not ashamed, because
the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost.” He
had mentioned before as one of the fruits of justification, that believers
“rejoiced in hope of the glory of God.” But, it might be asked, did
not the heavy affliction which they suffered, damp their hope ? Ho,
says he ; on the contrary, it is confirmed by the consolations poured
into their hearts, by which they are “ strengthened into all patience and
long-suffering with joyfulness.” In a similar strain, he desires the
Philippians to take encouragement from the firm and undaunted
manner in which they had adhered to Christianity. It is to you, he
says, “ a token of salvation, and that of God ; for unto you it is given
in the behalf of Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for
his sake.”

Christian experience is often appealed to as a proof of the genuineness

424

SERMON XV.

of our faith and hope ; and it is so. But there is another light in
which it is often presented in Scripture, and that is, as a proof and con¬
firmation of the divine word and promise, and consequently an encour¬
agement to the believer to trust in it with a firmer and more unhesi¬
tating assurance. In this way we find David frequently improving
his experience : “ The Lord is my strength and my shield : my heart
trusted in him, and I am helped ; therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth.” i
This is the burden of the seventy-first Psalm, which begins with a
profession of confident hope in God : “ In thee, 0 Lord, do I trust ; ”
and he takes encouragement from the protection and kindness which he
had experienced from his earliest years : “ For thou art my hope, 0 Lord
my God ; thou art my trust from my youth ; by thee have I been
holden up from the womb.” Thus encouraged, he adds, “ I will hope
continually, and will yet praise thee more and more. Thou who hast
showed me great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me again, and shalt
bring me up again from the depths of the earth.” And yet his hope
rested properly on the goodness and power of God as pledged by his
faithful word ; and therefore he says, “ I will praise thee, even thy truth,
0 my God,” or, as he expresses himself in another psalm, “ Remember
the word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast caused me to hope :
this is my comfort in my affliction ; for thy word hath quickened me.” ^
We find the apostle of the Gentiles encouraging himself in the same
way : “ We trust not in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead ;
who delivered us from so great a death, and doth deliver ; in whom we
trust that he will yet deliver us.”® “The Lord stood with me, and
strengthened me ; and I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion.
And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve
me unto his heavenly kingdom.” * And the same high ground of con¬
solation he presents to those in whom he had seen the fruits of the
Gospel : “ God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellow¬
ship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.”® The experience of God’s
people, therefore, though not the ground of their assurance, cannot fail
to strengthen it.

There is one view in which the inhabitation of the Spirit, including all
his operations in the hearts of believers, is represented in Scripture,
which contributes greatly to their comfort and assurance. He is called
“ the earnest of the heavenly inheritance,” and his operations are called
its “ first fruits.” As the first fruits offered unto God and sanctified were
to the Israelites an assurance of the full harvest, so the fruits of the
Spirit are to the believer an assurance of eternal life. “ Ourselves also,
which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan within ourselves, waiting
for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body.” If a man of
character promise us an inheritance, we trust him ; but if he gives us,
not only a token and pledge, but an earnest, by putting us in possession

1 Ps. xxviii. 7.

4 2 Tim. iv. 17.

3 2 Cor. i. 9.
5 I Cor. i. 9.

2 Fs. cxix. 49.

ASSURANCE.

425

of a valuable part of the gift, our confidence in him, and our expecta¬
tion of the complete enjoyment of the property, is greatly increased.
The application of this to the subject before us cannot be better ex¬
pressed than in the words of the apostle to the Ephesians : “ In whom
ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the Gospel of
your salvation : in whom also, after that ye believed, ye were sealed
with that holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance,
until the redemption of the purchased possession.”

IV. ^This peisuasion will stand the severest test.

It is easy to make use of great swelling words in talking of our
Cluistian assurance. It is not difficult to indulge a confident persuasion
of eternal happiness in the time of health and prosperity, when the evil
day is far away from us. It is otherwise when the wind of temptation
blows, and all the waves and billows of affliction go over us. The
confidence of many is as easily shaken as that of the Psalmist was :
“ In my prosperity I said, I shall never be moved. Lord, by thy favour
thou hast made my mountain to stand strong : thou didst hide thy face,
and I was troubled.” ^ When God’s dispensations wear a frowning
aspect, when his Providence seems to fight against his promises, then
comes the trial of the genuineness and strength of our confidence. If
genuine, it will come out of the furnace like gold which has stood the
fire, and receive the stamp of heaven. Such was the confidence of J ob,
when he said, “ Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” ^ And
such was that of our apostle ; “ For the which cause I also suffer these
things ; nevertheless I am not ashamed : for I know whom I have
believed.”

To the Christian himself these trials are useful in ascertaining the
strength of his faith. “ If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy
strength is small.”* There is a difference between the real and the
relative strength of assurance. A person may be ready to sink under a
burden which has been laid on him, and yet his strength is not less
than it was when he was a little before walking erect and at his ease.
To recur to the metaphor formerly employed, — if a report is circulated
that the person with whom you have deposited your property has be¬
come insolvent or unfaithful, and you should be thrown into distress by
this intelligence, your confidence in him is not really less than it was ;
but it is subjected to a greater trial, and has to conflict with considerations
not formerly placed in your view. Hence the twofold use of such trials ;
they show us that our faith is not so vigorous as we may have presumed
it to be ; and if it stand the test, it comes out purer and stronger than
ever. Steady and firm as the basis on which it is built, true Christian
confidence will bear the severest test which can be applied to it ; not
only of afflictions, but death itself, in its most terrible forms. Then,
instead of sinking, it rises to the full assurance of hope. “ Nay, in all

1 Fs. XXX. 6, 7. 2 Job, xiii. 15. ^ Frov. xxiv. 10.

2 F

426

SEKMON XV.

these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.
For I am persuaded that neither death nor life shall be able to separate
us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

V. This persuasion exerts a powerful and extensive influence on
the Christian life. Assurance of God’s love, peace of conscience, and
joy in the Holy Ghost, are closely connected with increase of grace and
perseverance therein to the end. Those who enjoy peace with God, and
rejoice in hope of his glory, have little or no cause to dread earthly evils,
and may glory in tribulations. Nothing tends more to inspire the soul
with unshaken fortitude and heroic courage, than a persuasion that our
final salvation is sure under the management of Christ. When the men of
Ai looked behind them, and saw their city, in which were their wives and
children and treasures, enveloped in flames, “ they had no power to flee
this way or that way,” i and became an easy prey to the children of
Israel. On the other hand, when soldiers know that all that is valuable
and dear to them is secured in a fortified place, they will go forth with
undaunted resolution to face the enemy. “What shall we say to these
things 1 If God be for us, who can be against us 1 ” Besides, this
assurance has also a powerful influence in stimulating the believer to
make progress in holiness. Were it to rise at once to its greatest height,
or were the attainment of it independent of the use of means, there
would be a specious pretext for saying that it is unfavourable to
holiness. But this is far from being the case. Instead of relaxing
diligence, or inducing sloth, a lively hope of salvation has, on the con¬
trary, a powerful tendency to animate the Christian to the most vigorous
exertions, and the most patient enduring. “We desire that every one
of you do show the same diligence to the full assurance of hope unto
the end ; that ye be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith
and patience inherit the promises.” It is not an assurance that they
shall be happy without being holy, nor is it an assurance that they
shall be made holy without the use of means. Paul lived in the
full and blessed assurance of faith ; and what a life of disinter¬
ested, holy, self-denying, and persevering activity did he lead, spend¬
ing and being spent for Christ and the souls of men ! “ He that hath

this hope in him purifieth himself, even as Christ is pure.” In fine,
this persuasion must exert a pervading influence over the whole life
of the Christian, for it engages and fills all the affections. “Where
your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” Those who have com¬
mitted their souls to Christ, will be frequently looking to the place
where he is; “their conversation,” their citizenship and their traffic,
“is in heaven;” they will live under “the powers of the world to
come.” “ Set your affection on things above, not on things on the
earth ; for ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God. When

1 Joshua, viii. 20.

ASSUKANCE.

427

Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with
him ill glory. Mortify, therefore, your members which are upon the
earth.”

From this subject, let us learn, in the first place, that one article of
the faith once delivered to the saints for which we are to contend is,
that a Christian may attain a satisfying and full assurance of his final
salvation. It is impossible to look attentively into the Scriptures without
finding it written there in most distinct characters. The contrary
doctrine not only contradicts the experience of the saints, — it strikes
directly against the scheme of grace revealed by the Gospel, is irrecon¬
cilable with the perfection of the atonement, and can be maintained
only on the supposition of the Arminian tenet, that eternal life, instead
of being the gift of God through Christ, is the pactional wages of an
obedience persevered in till death. Christians are bound to seek assur¬
ance — it is their infirmity, their sin, and not merely their misfortune,
that they do not attain it.

2. We may learn from this subject to avoid extremes on this doctrine.
Assurance is of two kinds, which have been designed the assurance of
faith and the assurance of sense. The former is direct, the latter
indirect. The former is founded on the testimony of God, the latter on
experience. The object of the former is entirely without us, the object
of the latter is chiefly within us. “ God hath spoken in his holiness, I
will rejoice,” is the language of the former ; “ We are his workmanship,
created anew in Christ Jesus,” is the language of the latter. When a
man gives me his promissory-note, I have the assurance of faith ; when
he gives me a pledge, or pays the interest regularly, or advances the
principal sum by instalments, I have the assurance of sense. They are
perfectly consistent with one another, may exist in the soul at the
same time, and their combination carries assurance to the highest
point.

Those who deny the assurance of faith appear to labour under a
mistake both as to the Gospel and as to believing. The Gospel does not
consist of general doctrine merely, but also of promises indefinitely pro¬
posed to all who hear it, to be enjoyed, not on the condition of believing,
but in the way of believing. “ I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy
transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins.” —
“ I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean.” — “ I will
put my laws into their mind, and write them in their hearts.” — “ Be¬
hold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people.” Can a person believe these promises, truly and with
understanding, without having some assurance of the blessings pro¬
mised 1 There appears also to be a mistake as to the nature of faith,
and the place which it holds in the application of redemption. It is a
trusting in Christ, a relying upon him for salvation upon the ground of

428

SERMON XV.

the divine testimony respecting him ; and does not this always imply
some degree of assurance or confidence ? When we refer, in the way of
illustration, to a drowning man trusting himself to the rope which is
thrown to him, or to a person who confides in him to whom he has intrust¬
ed his property, we are told that the former must first lay hold of the rope
before he can trust to be saved by it, and the latter must commit his pro¬
perty to the depository before he can entertain a persuasion of its security.
But the mistake lies here, that in the cases referred to there are two
acts, a bodily and a mental ; whereas in the case under our considera¬
tion there is but one, which serves both purposes. Faith at once lays
hold of Christ, and is persuaded of safety by him ; by one and the same
act it commits the soul to Christ, and is persuaded he will keep it.
This is the mystery, that God should have appointed faith or resting
upon Christ as the means of interesting in him and his salvation.
There is nothing like it in nature or among human transactions ; and
hence the danger of our losing ourselves and obscuring the truth by
having recourse to distant analogies and straining inadequate com¬
parisons. But the place which has been assigned to faith is one of the
most striking proofs of the wisdom of God, as it at once secures the
glory of divine grace, and provides for the consolation of those who flee
for refuge to the hope set before them. “ It is of faith that it might be
by grace, that the promise might be sure to all the seed.”

Others go to an opposite extreme. They maintain that every tn;e
Christian always enjoys an absolute and unwavering certainty as to his
final happiness — that he is a true believer, and in a state of salvation ;
and they dwell on the assurance of faith, to the neglect of the evidence
which arises from Christian experience and growth in holiness. This is
apt to cherish a spirit of presumption on the one liand, and to throw
persons into a state of despondency on the other. There are various
degrees of assurance, and in some genuine believers it may be scarcely
perceptible. He who is the author and finisher of our faith was careful
not to break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax. While he
rebuked the unbelief and unreasonable doubts of his disciples, he never
called in question the reality of their faith. He received the man who
said, “ Lord, I believe ; help thou mine unbelief.” Wliile he said to
Peter, “ 0 thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt V’ he took
him by the hand, and lifted him out of the water. Grant that doubting
is sinful, is there a just man on earth that doeth good and sinneth not ?
Are not the love and patience, and other gracious dispositions of a
Christian, also sinfully defective ? Urge the admonition, “ Be not
faithless, but believing,” but neglect not to urge also, “ Be ye holy, for
I am holy. Be perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect.” Would it
not be dangerous to the interests of holiness, and discreditable to re¬
ligion, if a person were supposed to be in possession of perfect assurance
while subject to imperfection in every other respect ? Is there not a

ASSUEANCE.

429

proportional growth, in all the members of the spiritual man 1 Would
he not otherwise be a monstrcais creature 1 Or is the exploded doctrine
of sinless perfection in this life to be revived among us 1 He whose
faith is faultless, and his assurance perfect and unvarying, sees Christ as
he is, and is already completely like him. He would not be a fit inhabitant
of earth, and the only prayer he could put up would be, “ Now lettest
thou thy servant depart in peace.” — “ Let us go on to perfection.” The
genuine Christian is conscious of his remaining imperfection. “ Not as
though I had already attained, either were already perfect ; but I
follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which also I am appre¬
hended of Christ Jesus.”

On the other hand, it is no valid objection to the doctrine of the
direct assurance of faith, that final salvation is only to be obtained after v
a persevering course of holy obedience, and patient suffering according
to the word of God. If holiness were the condition of eternal life, then
unquestionably there could be no genuine hope of the latter but what
was founded on the former ; nay, there could be no such thing as an
assurance of it in this life, for it is only “ he who endureth to the end
that shall be saved.” But if salvation is of grace — if Christ is able to
save to the uttermost all that come to God by him, and if there are in
the New Covenant promises securing perseverance, and providing all
needful assistance for the discharge of duty and progressive advance¬
ment in the Christian life, then all that grace and ability, and all these
securities enter into the matter and ground of faith, even from the
beginning, and produce a well-founded, though humble, self-denying
confidence of final victory and eternal rest. It is the hope, not of being
saved absolutely, but of being saved in God’s way — not simply of getting
to heaven, but of being meet for the inheritance of the saints in light — •
not of being crowned without a struggle, but of being enabled to fight
the good fight, and made “more than conquerors through him that
loved us.”

Finally, Christian hope is the inseparable companion of faith in
Christ. Some would separate these graces, or at least represent them
as resting on different grounds, and embracing different objects. Ac¬
cording to them, the object of faith is the Gospel — the object of hope, an
actual interest in the salvation which the Gospel reveals ; the former
resting on the testimony of God, the latter on that of our own con¬
sciences, and our evidences of a gracious state. This does not appear to be
the doctrine of Scripture. They are no doubt distinct graces, the one
regarding the promise as true, and the other regarding it as good. But
they have the same ground — the infallible word of God ; and what is
hope but the outgoing of the soul in the expectation of what it believes 1
We confound our views on this subject by the use made of the word
hope in the affairs of this life. Worldly hopes are founded upon proba¬
bilities. We expect a benefit — we hope that our friend will bestow it ;

430

SERMON XV.

but having been often disappointed in such cases, we learn to moderate
our expectations, and to guard against confidence. But surely it is
otherwise with hope in God. “ Let God be true, and every man a
liar.” Instead of indulging, we ought to check our unbelieving suspi¬
cions and fears, saying with the Psalmist, “ Why art thou cast down,
0 my soul ? still hope in God, for I shall yet praise him.” “ All flesh
is as grass, and the glory of man as the flower of grass : but the word
of the Lord endureth for ever ; and this is the word which by the
Gospel is preached unto you.”

431

SERMON XVL

THE RECOVERED DISCIPLE.

“ When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.” — Luke, xxii. 32.

If there is any season in which the admonition, “ Rejoice with trem¬
bling,” might be dispensed with, it is surely when the believer is sitting
at the table of his Saviour, commemorating that death by which he
finished redemption, and receiving the sensible tokens of his love. And
yet even there we have reason for mixed exercise, and for tempering our
joy in Christ with a godly jealousy over ourselves. How forcibly is this
practical trath impressed on our minds by the events recorded in the
chapter before us, connected as they were with the first celebration of
that divine ordinance ! It was when sitting with his disciples at the
table, and reaching to them the sacred memorials of his dying love, that
Jesus had to say, “ Behold, the hand of him that betrayeth me is with
me on the table.” This intimation caused, as it well might, “ great
searchings of heart.” The disciples were “ very sorrowful.” But, alas !
how deceitful is our goodness ! how fitful and momentary our frames
both of love and grief ! What reason has the Saviour to complain of
each of us, “ What shall I do to thee ? — and what shall I do to thee ?
for thy goodness is as the morning cloud, as the early dew it passeth
away !” Scarcely was the feast over, and the table drawn, when the
guests forgot themselves so far as to enter into a most unseasonable,
unseemly contest, as to precedence in that kingdom which they had
been just taught, sacramentally, was to be established by sufferings and
blood. And in spite of all their vows, next sun had not dawned
before the most resolute of their number had repeatedly and solemnly
denied his Master; and that, too, after being affectionately and faithfully
warned of his danger. Lord, what is man 1 — the best of men ? ^ Less
than vanity, a lie, when left to himself 0 how loudly does this fact
sound in the ears of such of us as were lately at the Lord’s table ! How
does it summon us to self-examination after supper as well as before it,
to humiliation under a sense of our miscarriages and failures, even
though they should only have been partial, to vigilance and circum¬
spection, and humble walking before God ! How does it call upon us
to flee to the true hiding-place, and diligently to use all appointed

432

SEKMON XVI.

means for fortifying our own minds and those of our brethren against
temptation !

As preparatory to the holy communion, I directed your attention to
the deeply interesting colloquy which the Saviour held with Peter,
before his ascension, and in which he led him to profess his attachment
to his Master as often as he had denied him. On that occasion, Christ,
after each reply, laid an injunction upon him : “ Feed my sheep — feed
my lambs.” As if he had said. By this evince the sincerity and fervour
of thy love to me,- — by tending, feeding, and watching over those for
whom I have laid down my life, and by dealing tenderly and gently
with such of them as may be feeble or diseased, seeking that which is
lost, bringing again that which has been driven away, binding up that
which was broken, and strengthening that which is sick. This task
Peter discharged, as an apostle and bishop of souls, in his personal
ministry and by his written instructions ; and not contented with his
own exertions, he was not neglectful to stir up the pure minds of his
fellow-labourers : “ The elders which are among you I exhort, who am
also an elder,”- — “ feed the flock of God.” But as that charge relates
especially to such as are called to All a public office in the church, I
reckon it more suitable to your circumstances and stations to turn your
attention to the injunction which the Saviour gave to the same indi¬
vidual on another occasion : “ When thou art converted, strengthen thy
brethren.”

The words of our text were addressed by our Lord to Peter, when he
forewarned him of his mournful fall, and foretold his merciful recovery.
“ And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you,
that he may sift you as wheat : but I have prayed for thee, that thy
faith fail not ; and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren'''
As if he had said, When the time shall come, that, in answer to my
prayer, thou shalt be recovered by the grace of God from thy fall,
brought to a sense of thy sin, and restored to former peace of mind, look
upon it as a duty peculiarly incumbent on thee to use the experi¬
ence which thou hast acquired, by doing everything in thy power to
fortify thy fellow-disciples against temptation, or to recover them from
sin, if, like thyself, they shall fall through temptation. The words,
therefore, teach us. That it is peculiarly incumbent on Christians who
have been recovered from falls, to strengthen their brethren. And in
discoursing from them we propose, in the first place, to make some
observations on the recovery of fallen believers ; in the second place,
to explain the duty devolving on such as have been recovered, which is,
to “ strengthen their brethren ;” and, in the last place, to enforce the
duty, by specifying the peculiar obligations which they are under to
perform this office of brotherly kindness.

I. On the recovery of fallen believers.

1. I begin by remarking that true believers, as well as others, are

THE EECOVEEED DISCIPLE.

433

liable to fall into sin. This is implied in all the warnings which the
ScrijDtures give on this head. “ Let him that thinketh he standeth take
heed lest he fall.” “ Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you
an evil heart of unbelief.” “ Let us labour — lest any man fall after the
same example of unbelief.” It is also evident from Scripture example,
of which that of Peter is instead of a thousand. As some professors
of religion may fall totally and irrecoverably from Clrrist, after very
high and specious attainments, so genuine Cliristians may fall very
toully, and for a time may remain in a desperate-like condition. The
promises and provisions of the covenant of grace secure all those who
are vitally united to Christ from total and final apostasy, but there is
no arrangement made securing that they shall not sin, and by them
sin grievously dishonour God, wound their own consciences, lay a
stumblingblock before others, and subject themselves to severe chas¬
tisement.

There are other ways of failing in our allegiance to Christ, and even
of denying him, than that in which Peter offended. Let us not think
that we are safe, because our circumstances are very different from
those in which he was placed. There is such a thing as denying by
works as well as by words ; yea, we may deny him in our heart, by
yielding our affections to his rivals. Let us mention some of the ways
in Avhich we may fall from the attachment and service which we owe
to him.

We may fall into spiritual decay. Instead of growing in grace, and
abounding in the fruits of righteousness, we may languish, and become
in a great degree “ barren and unfruitful in the knowledge of Christ.”
Through carelessness and carnality, a Christian may suffer himself to
be shorn of his strength, and become, for a time, like another man. He
is “ blind, and cannot see afar off, and hath forgotten that he was purged
from his old sins.” His faith wavers, his love waxes cold, his hope is
shaken, he loses his wonted relish for the word, restrains prayer before
God in secret, and turns negligent or formal in waiting on the ordi¬
nances of religion. “ I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast
left thy first love.”

We may fall into errors, dangerous and hurtful to the soul. This fall
is often the consequence of the former. You will see from the epistles
to the churches of Asia, that when they left their first love, and faith,
and patience, they became infected with the doctrine of the Nicolaitanes,
of Balaam, and of “that woman Jezebel, who called herself a prophet¬
ess.” And of Christians at a subsequent period it is said, that “ be¬
cause they received not the love of the truth, God sent them strong
delusion that they should believe a lie.” ^ At other times this defection
is to be traced to spiritual pride, puffing up persons with a high conceit
of their piety, knowledge, and talents, leading them to despise instruc¬
tion, and to forsake the good old way in which the children of God in

1 2 Thes. ii. 11.

434

SEEMON XVI,

all ages have found food and rest to their souls, and to betake themselves
to new and untrodden paths, where they wander in endless and inex¬
tricable mazes of error. There was nothing against which the apostles
were more particular in warning their converts, than the delusions of
false doctrine. And we live in a time when it is peculiarly necessary to
attend to these warnings. The time is come when “ men will not
endure sound doctrine, but after their own lusts heap to themselves
teachers, having itching ears, and they turn away their ears from the
truth, and are turned unto fables.” ^

We are in danger of falling into ope?t vice and immorality. It has
often been found that error and immorality go hand in hand. The
Gospel is “ the doctrine according to godliness ; ” deviations from it
“ increase unto more ungodliness.” The truth alone can sanctify ;
error, though it may not always directly encourage vice and irreligion,
must be inefficacious in subduing the corruption of the heart, and in
promoting true holiness. But even when Christians are not entangled
with error, they are in danger of falling into the grossest sin. There
is always need for the call, “Awake to righteousness, and sin not.”
“ Evil communications corrupt good manners.” “ But fornication, and
all uncleanness or covetousness, let it not once be named among you,
as becometh saints.”

2. The call to those who have so. fallen is to convert and turn to
the Lord. There is a twofold conversion : one when a sinner is
turned from death to life, and from the power of Satan unto God ;
and another when a saint is recovered from the snare of the devil,
into which he had fallen through his own unwatchfulness and corrup¬
tion ; — and the last is as necessary as the first. “ Remember from
whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works,” is Christ’s
call, not only to every church, but to every individual, who has “ left
his first love.” All who are converted, do convert or turn from their
evil ways. The Psalmist prayed, “ Turn away mine eyes from behold¬
ing vanity;” but he tells us also, “I thought upon my ways, and
turned my feet unto thy testimonies.”^ There is no salvation, or
security, or peace, in sin. We must be saved from our iniquities, by
being every one of us turned away from them. And this holds as to
believers equally with others. True, they cannot perish, but equally
true is it that they cannot continue in their sins. Judas “by trans¬
gression fell,” and remained as he fell, “ that he might go to his own
place ; ” Peter, when “ his feet were almost gone,” was recovered in
the way of his repenting of his transgression. This duty of repentance
is incumbent on them from the first moment of their falling into sin.
Nothing can be more dangerous than their remaining, even for a short
period, indifferent and impenitent. Having provoked the Spirit of God
to withdraw his influences, and being left to themselves, they are in
danger of going farther and farther from the right path. Thus David,

1 2 Tim. iv. 3. i Ts. cxix. 37, 59.

THE KECOVERED DISCIPLE.

435

by remaining impenitent under the sin of adultery, was left to fall
(fearful to tell !) into that of murder. By transgressing the law of God,
Christian, you enter the devil’s territories ; and he will not neglect the
advantage which this gives him over you. How pitiable the case of
Samson, when the Philistines were upon him, and his strength had
departed ! How wretched the plight of Saul, when, deserted by God,
and driven to despair, he cried out, “ I am sore distressed ; for the
Philistines make war against me, and God is departed from me, and
answereth me no more ! ” ^

3. The recovery of believers from their falls requires an exertion of
divine power and mercy of the same kind with that which was put
forth in their regeneration or first conversion. Accordingly, the
change produced is called by the same name. “ When thou art con¬
verted.” We say not that it requires the same degree of power, for
the fall of a believer does not extinguish the principle of grace within
him ; but it weakens it, and gives the opposite principle the advantage
and superiority for the time. The “law in the members” wars success¬
fully against “ the law of the mind,” and brings the soul into captivity
to the law of sin.^ A man who has broken a limb by a fall needs
foreign aid, and must be lifted up and carried in the same way as a
dead man — that is, by the strength and exertion of another person.
Grace received is not enough to enable a Christian to prosecute his
course ; he must receive a new accession for every new step which he
takes. Much more is this necessary to lift him up when he has fallen,
and to restore him when he has wandered. The foolish sheep which
has left its pasture would never return, if it were not followed and
sought out and brought back by the shepherd. Think you that
Peter would have been able again to look his offended Lord in the
face, if the Lord had not first looked upon liim 1 Ah, no : he would
have shunned him, turned from him, fied from him. “ The voice of the
Lord is powerful,” and so is his glance. If the former is terrible as
the thunder, the latter is quick and penetrating like the lightning.
The look which Jesus cast on the fallen disciple was equally divine and
efficacious with the word which at first made him forsake all and
follow him. It pierced his soul, it melted his heart, it laid open his
thoughts, it brought him to himself. It produced at once conviction
and conversion. “The Lord looked upon Peter — and Peter remem¬
bered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him. Before the cock
crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And he went out, and wept bitterly ! ”
It was fit that he who had trembled at a word, should weep at a
look.

4. The intercession of Christ secures the recovery of fallen be¬
lievers. “ Confess your faults one to another,” says the apostle
James, “ and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The
effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” But the

1 1 Sam. xxviii. 15. * Rom. vii. 23.

436

SERMON XVI.

grand security for believers lies in the prayers of their Elder Brother
who is on high. “ Simon, Simon, Satan hath desired to have you that
he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee, that thy
faith fail not.” This encouragement was not confined to Peter : “ If
any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the
righteous.” He is continually praying for his people : “ I pray not
that thou shouldst take them out of the world, but that thou wouldst
keep them from the evil.” And when ah any time they have fallen
into sin, he intercedes for their pardon and recovery, and sends his
Spirit to convince them of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment.
“And he showed me Joshua the high priest standing before the
angel of the Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to resist him.
And the Lord said unto Satan, The Lord rebuke thee, 0 Satan ; even
the Lord that hath chosen Jerusalem rebuke thee : is not this a brand
plucked out of the fire ? Now Joshua was clothed with filthy garments,
and stood before the angel. And he answered, and spake unto those
that stood before him, saying. Take away the filthy garments from him.
And unto him he said, Behold, I have caused thine iniquity^ to pass
from thee, and I will clothe thee with change of raiment.”^

5. The sovereignty of divine grace is displayed in the recovery of
fallen saints. It is displayed as to the time. “When thou art con¬
verted,” says Christ, leaving it quite indefinite. It might be soon, or
it might be late. Peter was very speedily brought to repentance.
Scarcely has the roaring lion seized on his prey, when, hearing the
voice of Christ, he is forced to let it go, though not till he has
inflicted on his intended victim marks of his envenomed malice. “ I
have jwayed for thee,” says Christ, “that thy faith fail not ;” and the
prayer of Christ was an immediate rebuke to the devil. Others again,
as we see in the case of David, remain in a hardened, or at least
insensible state, for months or even years. Sovereignty is displayed as
to the process by which the recovery is effected. Legal terrors, or
distressing doubts about forgiveness, may be prolonged. Thus the
Psalmist had to complain, “ Day and night thy hand was heavy upon
me ; my moisture is turned into the drought of summer.” How long
it was before the dart was extracted from Peter’s liver, we are not told ;
but it is probable that the wound was not completely healed until the
conversation which took place before the ascension of Christ. The
same thing happens as to fallen churches. “ The children of Israel shall
abide many days without a king, and without a prince, and without a
sacrifice afterwards shall they return and seek the Lord their God,
and David their king, and shall fear the Lord and his goodness in the
latter days.” ^

6. Those who have been recovered from falls derive much spiritual
wisdom from their painful experience. Their knowledge is improved.
How much more intimate must be their acquaintance with themselves,

1 Zech. iii. 1—4. 2 Hos. iii. 4, 5.

THE EECOVEEED DISCIPLE.

437

and especially witb. tlieir own hearts — so deceitful by nature, and des¬
perately wicked ! How much more enlarged their knowledge of the
world, and of the depths and devices of their invisible enemy ! Their
knowledge of sin is increased by what they have felt of its bitter fruits
— of the Saviour, by experiencing the renewed tokens of his affection
and compassion. They are rendered more humble and charitable, more
circumspect, more vigilant, more zealous and active. In fine, being
strengthened themselves, they are more qualified for strengthening-
others.

II. Let us now explain the duty enjoined in the text, on such as
have been recovered from falls. “ "^Tien thou art converted, strengthen
thy brethren"

We may be said to “strengthen the brethren” when we contribute
in any degree to their spiritual advantage and growth in grace, stimu¬
lating them to a holy life, and encouraging them to hold fast the pro¬
fession of their faith, and thus preventing them from falling ; or when
we recover them from their errors and defections. “ Strengthen the
weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees,” and “ make straight paths
for your feet, lest that which is lame be turned out of the way ; but let
it rather be healed.” Now this kind office may be performed in different
ways, and by various means.

1. The recovered disciple may strengthen his brethren by fervent
prayer in their behalf — committing them “ to Him who is able to keep
them from falling,” and imploring his mercy and grace to raise them
up when they have been “ overtaken in a fault.” “ I have prayed for
thee,” said Christ to Peter ; and in this he showed us an example. This
ought to accompany all the other means which we employ, and it may
be the only means which we have it in our power to use. However far
the objects of our care are removed from us in respect of place or
affection, we are always at liberty to use our influence in their behalf
at the throne of grace. Whatever alienation may take place between
us and our Christian brethren, though they should smite us, and cast
out our names as evil, and shut their doors against us, our prayer may
still be for them in their calamities. When advice has been spurned,
and argument has served only to irritate, this means has sometimes
proved successful. “ Pray one for another, that ye may be healed,”
says the apostle J ames ; and he connects this with the conversion of
an erring brother ; “ Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and
one convert him, let him know that he which converteth the sinner
from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and shall
hide a multitude of sins.” Unspeakable reward ! Best of answers to
prayer !

2. The recovered disciple may strengthen his brethren by example.
One evidence of a sanctified fall is the greater care which a person takes
in ordering his conversation. By a holy, circumspect, tender walk, by

438

SERMON XVI.

an open, decided, and unwavering confession of the name of Christ, by
a regular attendance upon ordinances, and by a cheerful submission to
afflictions, we may be the means of alluring strangers to join themselves
to the Lord, and cannot fail to confirm the souls of the disciples. “ They
that fear thee will be glad when they see me,”* says David, when
avouching his love to the law of God, and imploring divine leading.
Without the accompaniment of a holy life, our prayers will not be
acceptable to God, and our advices will be unsuccessful with men.
“ Thy servant J ob shall pray for you, for him will I accept, lest I
deal with you after your folly.” ^ “Let the righteous smite me, it
shall be a kindness ; and let him reprove me, it shall be an excellent
oil which shall not break my head : for yet my prayer also shall be in
their calamities.”® This is one way in which those who have offended
will be particularly concerned to edify others : like Hezekiah, they
“will go softly all their years in the bitterness of their soul.”* And
thus “ if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be
won, while they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear.”
To this we may add, that nothing tends more to confirm the faith of
our brethren than the patient endurance of reproach and suffering for
the sake of the Gospel. Such was the effect of the sufferings of Paul
at Rome : “ Many of the brethren in the Lord, waxing confident by my
bonds, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.”® And our
Lord intimated that Peter, by submitting to a violent death for his
sake, would glorify God, and at the same time strengthen his brethren,
by giving this proof of his firm attachment to him whom he had for¬
merly, through the fear of death, denied.

3. The recovered believer may strengthen his brethren by instruc¬
tion. Though he may not, like Peter, be called to “feed Christ’s
lambs” in the public capacity of an under -shepherd, yet accord¬
ing to his station, talents, and opportunities, it is his dutj'' to in¬
struct his brethren. More particularly, he is to strengthen his
brethren,

(1.) By warning them faithfully and affectionately of the danger
of falling into sin. “ Take heed, brethren, lest there be in any of you
an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the living God. But exhort
one another daily while it is called to-day, lest any of you be hardened
through the deceitfulness of sin.” “Be not secure” (the converted saint
will say) ; “ you are exposed to danger from within and from without.
You have evil hearts, and you live in an evil world ; and there is an
invisible foe hovering around you, and waiting for your halting. Brother,
brother, Satan is desiring you, to sift you as wheat. I have prayed for
you, but trust not to my prayers. Be sober, be vigilant, for your adver¬
sary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may
devour. 0 be not high-minded, but fear. Be warned by my example

1 Ps. cxix. 74.

1 Is. xxxviii. 15.

3 Ps. cxli. 5.

2 Job. xlii. 8.

5 Phil. i. 14.

THE KECOVERED DISCIPLE,

439

to avoid pride and self-confidence. Tamper not with temptation. Enter
not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men ;
avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. Look not thou
upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour in the cup, when
it moveth itself aright ; for at the last it biteth like a serpent, and
stingeth like an adder.”

(2.) By acquainting them with the bitter fruits of sin. None knoweth
the power of God’s wrath but his own Son, into whose soul, when
standing as the surety of sinners, it was poured immeasurably. But
next to him, his saints feel it most sensibly, when, yielding to tempta¬
tion, they fall into sin and under a sense of wrath. “ It pleased the
Lord (says one) to shoot an arrow of wrath suddenly into my soul,
which pierced my soul and body both. It lasted not long — if it had,
I had been a most miserable spectacle. I have sometimes wished for
some drops of wrath to awaken me out of a secure frame ; but I found
one drop — intolerable ! Who knoweth the power of his wrath 1 Tongue
cannot express it. 0 precious Christ ! 0 precious blood ! Horror and
despair had swallowed me up, had it not been that blood, the blood of
God.” David in the thirty-eighth, and Heman in the eighty-eighth
psalm, express the same feelings in still more striking terms : “ Thine
arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand presseth me sore. There is no
soundness in my flesh because of thine anger, neither is there any rest
in my bones because of my sin. My soul is full of troubles, and my
life draweth nigh unto the grave. Thou hast laid me in the lowest
pit, in darkness, in the deeps. Thy wrath lieth hard upon me, and thou
hast afflicted me with all thy waves.” None so qualified for proclaim¬
ing the terrors of the Lord, or dissuading from sin, as those who have
felt in this manner.

(3.) By leading them to that grace whereby alone they can be estab¬
lished and made to stand in the hour of temptation, or can be recovered
when they have fallen. Peter knew that he had fallen by trusting to
himself, and that he was recovered by the grace of Christ, who prayed
for him, and who had converted and continued to uphold him. And
therefore he directed his brethren to the true grace of God wherein they
stood. Hence, in his first epistle, he blesses “ God, even the Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ, who had begotten them to a lively hope” — and
describes them as “ kept by the power of God through faith unto salva¬
tion” — built upon Christ, “the living and chief corner-stone.” And in
the close of the epistle he rolls them over upon this all-sufficient sup¬
port. “ The God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory
by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect,
stablish, strengthen, settle you.” Ministers and private Christians are
but feeble props. “ Except the Lord build the house, they labour in
vain that build it : except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh
but in vain.” But he is the Rock ; and his work is perfect. He will
not leave the work unfinished. He is “ the God of all grace ” — pardon-

440

SERMON XVI.

ing grace, sanctifying grace, renewing grace, recovering grace, glorifying
grace. The more a Christian is emptied of himself, the more he is
made sensible of his own weakness and worthlessness, and the more
singly that he depends on the grace that is in Christ Jesus— the safer
he is. We go forth to the combat in our own strength, and we are
foiled ; we repeat the attempt, and are again foiled. We are always
forgetting the lesson, and need to be reminded of it, that our strength
is weakness, and our wisdom folly, and that all our sulBciency is of
God.

(4.) We may strengthen our brethren by directing them to the means
of establishment. Though the work is God’s, yet he accomplishes it by
means, and in the use of these we are to co-operate with him. Among
those means which Peter specifies (and I shall confine myself to these
at present) are the following He recommends a lively recollection of
the price by which we were redeemed. “ Pass the time of your sojourn¬
ing here in fear, forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with
corruptible tlungs, as silver and gold, but with the precious blood of
Christ.”^ He brings to their remembrance the high character which
belonged to them as Christians ; “Ye are a chosen generation, a royal
priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people.”^ He inculcates an
abiding sense of the essential holiness of that God to whom they are
redeemed ; “ As obedient children, not fashioning yourselves according
to the former lusts in your ignorance ; but as he which has called you
is holy, so be ye holy in all manner of conversation.” He presses on
them the cherishing of a holy awe of the Divine Majesty and greatness,
as an antidote against the fear of man. “ Be not afraid of their terror,
neither be troubled ; but sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and be
ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason
of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.”'* He strongly
insists on humility. “ Be clothed with humility ; for God resisteth the
proud, but giveth grace to the humble.”® He points out the necessity
of sobriety and vigilance, as becoming those who are pilgrims, and who
know that they are iu an enemy’s country, and that the Lord is at hand.®
And as they were ready to be shaken with trials, he places their privileges
over against these, — shows the salutary tendency of affliction — proposes
to them the example of Christ’s sufferings — and sets before them the
glorious issue of them all.^

(5.) We are to strengthen our brethren by using all proper exertions
to recover those that are fallen, and especially by administering to
them the comforts of the Gospel. This is the evangelical, the divine
way of recovering from falls. The terrors of the law can only convince ;
sometimes they harden. “ There is no hope,” the sinner will say : “ no ;
for I have loved strangers, and after them will I go.” The promises
and consolations of the Gospel recover and heal. “ For the iniquity of

1 1 Pet. i. 17. 2 Ib. ii. 9. s Ib. i. 14. •» Ib. lii. 14.

® Ib. V. 6. ® Ib. V. 8. 1 lb. i. 2, 4, 7 ; iii. 21 ; iv. 12 — 14.

THE EECOVEKED DISCIPLE.

441

his covetousness was I wroth, and smote him, and he went on frowardly
in the way of his heart. I have seen his ways, and will heal him ; I
will lead him also, and restore comforts unto liim and to his mourners.”^
“ I will heal their backslidings, I will love them freely : for mine anger
is turned away from him.” 2

The Cliristian who has himself been restored, will exert himself to
recover those who have fallen, with long-suffering and compassion.
Their case will draw forth Iris strongest sympathies. He will not stand
at a distance from them, or despise them, nor will he soon or easily
despair of their recovery, but will “ reprove and rebuke and exhort with
all long-suffering and doctrine.” And when he has brought them to a
sense of their sin, he will pour in the balm of consolation into their
wounded spirits. He is bound to “ comfort others with the same com¬
fort wherewith he himself is comforted of God ;” and will be disposed
to use towards them the same tenderness with which Christ has
treated him. “ Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye, which
are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness ; considering
thyself, lest thou also be tempted.” ®

III. Let us now briefly mention some of the obligations which lie on
the recovered Christian to perform this ofiice of brotherly kindness.

1. Gratitude to his deliverer requires it. Has he, converted Christian,
had mercy on your souls, cast all your sins behind his back, restored
you again, and made you to walk in the paths of righteousness 1 And
will you not, at his call, exert yourself for advancing his glory, by pro¬
moting the spiritual welfare of those who are dear to him 1 “1 endure
all things,” says Paul, “ for the elect’s sake, that they may also obtain
the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.” “Restore
unto me,” says David, “the joy of thy salvation ; and uphold me with
thy free Spirit ; then will I teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners
shall be converted unto thee.” “ Lovest thou me 1” said Christ to Peter.
“ Feed my lambs — feed my sheep.”

2. Love to the brethren, raised to sympathy by a recollection of their
own circumstances, binds recovered Christians to strengthen their
brethren. This is the best way in which we can testify our regard to
them. What would we think of a person who had nearly lost his life
by falling over a precipice, and yet should neglect to warn others of the
danger ? or of one who had been cured of a dangerous disease, and
refused to communicate the remedy to those who were afflicted in the
same manner in which he had been 1

3. A recollection of the dishonour which they did to Christ, and the
injury which they inflicted on their brethren, will excite them to make
reparation, so far as it may be in their power. The fall of Peter must
have had a great effect in staggering his brethren, considering the bold¬
ness which he had all along discovered in confessing Christ ; they must

1 Isa. Ivii. 17, 18. 2,Hos. xiv. 4. * Gal. vi. 1.

2 G

442

SERMOX XVI.

have felt as soldiers “ when a standard-bearer fainteth.” He considered
it, therefore, to be his duty, by every means in his power, to re-establish
and comfort their minds. “ Wherefore the rather, brethren, give dili¬
gence to make your calling and election sure : for if ye do these things
ye shall never fall.” “ Wherefore I will not be negligent to put you
always in remembrance of these things, though ye know them, and be
established in the present truth.” ^

4. The experience which they have acquired is a gift which they are
bound to lay out for the public good. “ As every man,” says Peter,
“ hath received the gift, even so minister the same one to another, as
good stewards of the manifold grace of God.” Here all the qualifica¬
tions already noticed, by which the recovered believer is peculiarly
fitted for the service of strengthening his brethren, might have been
adduced to enforce the duty. He has not been humbled, merely to
teach himself circumspection, or graciously lifted up, merely to increase
his gratitude to his deliverer ; his experience has qualified him for the
task of strengthening others, and lays him under strong obligations to
the discharge of it, that they also may be “ partakers of the benefit.”

From this subject we may learn, in the first place, that the Scripture
doctrine of the perseverance of the saints is not inimical or unfriendly to
holiness. You see, from the example of Peter, that the perseverance of
the saints is consistent with their falling into sin, and consequently
with exhortations and warnings on the part of God, and with caution
and watchfulness on their part. Some represent this doctrine as calcu¬
lated to make persons careless, and others scruple to preach it lest it
should have this effect. Our Lord had no fears or scruples on this head ;
for he tells Peter, before he entered into temptation, that he had prayed
for him, that his faith might not give up the ghost. Let us not attempt
to be wiser and more prudent than our Lord. A state of grace does not
secure against falling into sin, but it secures recovery from it, and this
recovery is brought about in such a way as not only to strengthen the
good principles implanted in the heart of the individual, but also to fit
and dispose him to strengthen others. To imagine that the Christian
who has fallen and been mercifully recovered, will be induced to fall
again from the prospect of a similar interposition, is as preposterous as
to suppose that a man who had, through carelessness, broken a limb,
will expose himself to the same calamity, merely because he had experi¬
enced the skill and attention of the surgeon in healing it.

2. See again, my brethren, the wisdom of God in overruling the falls
of believers for the best and holiest ends. “ Out of the eater came forth
meat, and sweetness out of the strong.” Not only does grace sujjer-
abound when sin abounds, but sin is shown, and seen, and felt, to be
“ exceeding sinful ; ” and one sin is made the means of preventing the
commission of many sins. Among the many lessons which Peter’s fall

1 2 Peter, i. 10—15.

THE EECOVERED DISCIPLE.

443

inculcates, this is not the least, that it is an evil thing and a bitter for
a saint to depart from the Lord. Yet from its bitter, and in themselves
noxious and poisonous ingredients, divine grace can extract a balm,
which shall impart health and vigour to multitudes. Who so success¬
ful and honoured in winning men to Christ, and in confirming the souls
of the disciples, as the miraculously converted persecutor, and the twice-
converted fisherman 1 We are apt to perplex our minds by curious in¬
quiries as to the origin of moral evil, and the entrance of sin into the
world ; but while we may rest assured that nothing could enter into
God’s world without his knowledge and permission, would we not be
more profitably employed in contemplating the wisdom which educes
good not only from “ seeming,” but from real and great “ evil 1 ”

3. Learn the evil of selfishness in religion. Say not with the first
murderer, “ Am I my brother’s keeper 1 ” Christ does not merely say
to Peter, “When thou art converted — sin no more, lest a worse thing
come unto thee,” but “ strengthen thy brethren.” And let none of you
think that because you occupy a private station in the church, you may
be excused from this service, and devolve it on her public overseers.
“ None of us liveth to himself. Let every one of us please his neighbour
for his good to edification.”

4. If, however, it be sinful for us to neglect this duty, how much
greater must be the sin of throwing a stumbling-block before others 1
If it be our duty to “ strengthen our brethren,” what a grievous offence
to weaken, shake, and overthrow them — and then, perhaps to rejoice
over their fall ! “ Through thy knowledge shall thy brother perish for
whom Christ died?” Wouldst thou destroy him whom Christ died to
save ? “ It is impossible but that offences must come ; but woe to that
man by whom the offence cometh ! It were better for him that a mill¬
stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the
depth of the sea.”

Finally, let us learn a lesson of caution and circumspection. The eyes
of the church and the world, Christian, are upon you. The eyes of
Satan are upon you. And the eyes of God are upon you. See then
that ye walk circumspectly. Be humble. Live near the Lord. Live
by faith. 0 beware of what will dishonour God, bring discredit on
your profession, wound your consciences, grieve your friends, and gratify
your enemies ! “ Ye, beloved, building up yourselves in your most holy
faith, praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God,
looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, unto eternal life.”
“Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present
you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the
only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power
both now and ever. Amen.”

444

SERMON XVII/

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

“In that day shall the Lord of Hosts he for a spirit of judgment to him that
sitteth in judgment.” — Isa. xxviii. 5, 6.

Next to the enactment of just and wholesome laws, the due administra¬
tion of them is of the highest importance to a community. This has
accordingly engaged the particular attention of every people who have
attained to any considerable degree of civilisation. The most enlightened
nations have separated the judicial from the legislative authority, ren¬
dered judges, in the discharge of their functions, independent of the
supreme executive magistrate in the state, and adopted other precautions,
with the view of keeping the channels by which justice is dispensed
through all the departments of society pure and uncorrupted. Nor is the
jealousy which they manifested on this head to be censiured as excessive.
By the wise and impartial administration of justice a people have been
reconciled to the rule of a usurper, and tyranny itself has become toler¬
able ; whereas the neglect or perversion of justice has made them un-
happy and discontented under the best form of political government.
The salutary effects of righteous judgment are not confined to the
securing of individual rights, the repressing of the bad, and the protect¬
ing of the good and peaceable. Under its fostering shade every useful
art and every liberal science flourish the honour of the laws being
preserved unsullied, a cheerful obedience is yielded to their authority ;
morality is promoted by an exhibition of the connection which subsists
between its essential principles and the temporal welfare of men j and
piety is indirectly, but powerfully, strengthened by the thoughts being
irresistibly raised to the fountain of all justice, and by the representation,
faint indeed, but not scenic, which is given of the great assize before
which all must at last appear.

If the distribution of justice in secular kingdoms, and in relation to
the affairs of this life, is of so great moment, it must be of still greater
importance in that society which is styled “ the kingdom of heaven,”
and in relation to things connected with the eternal interests of men.
“ The habitation of justice ” is one of the appellations given to the

1 Delivered at the opening of the Synod of Original Soceders, Edinburgh, Sept. 1829.

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

445

churcli in Scripture ; her exalted Head hath made ample provision for
her enjoyment of this blessing under his wise and beneficent govern¬
ment ; and it holds a distinguished place among the promises which
secure her spiritual restoration and prosperity. “ Thus saith the Lord,

I will turn my hand upon thee, and purely purge away thy dross, and
take away all thy tin ; and I will restore thy judges as at the first, and
thy counsellors as at the beginning ; afterwards thou shalt be called the
city of righteousness, the faithful city. Zion shall be redeemed with
righteousness, and her converts with judgment.” This is secured by the
residence of God in his church, and constitutes one of the most brilliant
jewels in that crown which is formed by his glory shining upon her,
according to the words before us : “ In that day shall the Lord of hosts
be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue
of his people, and for a sphit of judgment to him that sitteth in judg¬
ment.”

I propose, in the first place, to make some remarks on the warrants
and nature of ecclesiastical judicature ; and, secondly, to consider the
spirit in which it ought to be exercised, and which God has promised
to confer.

I. In entering on the first head, I remark generally, that religious
society has its foundation in the very nature of man considered as a
social being. Men are bound to unite for the worship of their Creator,
as well as for their mutual defence and external comfort ; and this view
of religious society is antecedent in idea, or in the order of nature, to
any particular form which it may receive from supernatural constitution
or positive ordinances. The church is a society called out of the world
by grace, and organised for promoting the glory of God in the salvation
and sanctification of fallen men. Viewed strictly in this specific char¬
acter, its polity and order are entirely of supernatural institution ; but
there are many things which belong to it under the general notion of a
society, and are common to it with other societies, or which belong to
it as a society having religion for its object. For these things the light
of nature furnishes important directions, and is a sufficient warrant.
Divine revelation takes the dictates of sound reason for granted, and
refers to them in such terms of approbation as impose it upon us as a
duty to be guided by them in those cases as to wliich the Scriptures are
silent, or have merely laid down general rules.^ The rites of Christian
worship are of divine institution, but there are various external circum¬
stances connected with their observance which are left to the regulation
of human prudence exercised with a proper regard to decency and
edification ; such as the times of assembling, the order in which the
several parts of worship shall be celebrated, and the length of the
services. The range of this class of objects is still more extensive in

1 Luke, xiv. 5. ; x. 7. 1 Tim. v. 18. Acts, xiv. 17. Rom. i. 19, 20. 1 Cor. v. 1. ;
xi. 13—16.

SERMON XVIL

44G

relation to the government and discipline of the church, as to which
Divine wisdom saw it fit to be less minute and precise in its prescrip¬
tions. Every society, and consequently the church of Christ, the most
perfect of societies, must have external bonds of union, rules of manage¬
ment, and, in short, all those means which are necessary to her pre¬
servation, or conducive to the ends of her erection. The essential
principles of jurisprudence, which are founded on natural laws, are com¬
mon to civil and ecclesiastical society ; and they dictate the observance
of certain forms of process as safeguards to justice, and means of elicit¬
ing truth in dubious or controverted cases.

With these explanations, I proceed to observe, that Christ, as king
of his church, hath appointed a government in her, and committed to
office-bearers, under him, a power to execute his laws, and pronounce
judgment according to them, for the preservation of order and peace,
and the promoting of the interests of truth and holiness to his glory.
“ As my Father hath sent me, so have I sent you. — I appoint unto you
a kingdom, that you may sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of
Israel. — Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. —
God hath set in the church, governments. — Do not ye judge them that
are within 1 But them that are without God judgeth. — Therefore put
away from among yourselves that V^icked person. — Obey them that
have the rule over you, and submit yourselves ; for they watch for your
souls. — God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all the
churches of the saints. — At the mouth of two or three witnesses every
word shall be established. And an oath for confirmation is the end of
all strife.”

The overlooking of the important ends to be served by the church as
a visible society, is a capital error, or at least has been the source of
many hurtful mistakes in our own, as well as in former times. Many
seem to confine their views entirely to what is necessary for training up
a number of individuals for eternal life ; the only wise God hath com¬
bined this with the maintenance of a public cause, to the advancement
of his glory on earth ; and for this purpose has erected and maintains
an organised and permanent association, which he has constituted the
depositary of his truths, laws, and ordinances. Those institutions
which tend directly to promote personal salvation and holiness, such as
the word, sacraments, and prayer, could not be preserved in purity, or
practised to edification, without the external administration of la\fs.
Church members are not all true saints ; and such of them as are so,
being renewed but in part, stand in need of counsel, restraint, and cor¬
rection. But there is a higher reason than even this for ecclesiastical
judicature ; it belongs to the administration of that kingdom which was
given to Christ as Mediator, and constitutes an essential part of his
glory as the lawgiver, judge, and king of the church. The divine
government of the universe is conducted by laws adapted to the various
orders of created beings. Though sin had not entered into our world.

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

447

mankind would have lived under the external regimen of law, if there
had been no other reason for it than this, that an exhibition of the
moral government of God might be preserved among them. In our law
the sovereign is called the Grand Justiciar, and earthly kings, in
general, rule and dispense justice in the remotest parts of their do¬
minions, by means of the subordinate governors and judges whom they
appoint. And in like manner, the authority of the church’s king is
exercised, and his glory illustrated, by the instrumentality of those who,
in his name, dispense his ordinances and execute his laws. “ He that
heareth you, heareth me ; and he that despiseth you, despiseth me ;
and he that despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me.”

Ecclesiastical judgment may be viewed either materially or formally.
It belongs to secular judges to expound or interpret the law of the
country, and to apply it, or to pronounce sentence according to its pre¬
cepts, in the particular causes which are brought under their cognisance.
To ecclesiastical judges belong the interpretation of the laws of Christ,
by a judicial declaration of truth in opposition to prevailing error, and
of duty in opposition to prevailing sins ; and the application of these
laws to such cases as occur. This last branch includes the admission
of individuals to the privileges of the church, or to public office in it,
and the trying of such offences or scandals as may arise from time to
time, together with the inflicting of censure on the offenders, from
admonition to excommunication, or complete exclusion from ecclesias¬
tical communion, in the case of church members, and to deposition, in
the case of office-bearers.

Of the matters which come within the jurisdiction of church rule, I
shall not speak farther at present ; but it may be proper to be more
specific as to its formal nature.

1, Ecclesiastical judgment is spiritual, in distinction from that which
is civil or secular. The government of the church and the government
of the state, with the judgment which is competent to those who re¬
spectively administer them, differ widely from one another.

They differ in their origin. Both indeed are derived from God, who
is the original fountain of all authority and justice. But civil govern¬
ment is from God as Creator ; ecclesiastical government from Christ as
Mediator. The former holds of him as King of nations, the latter as
King of saints. The law of nature, written on the hearts of all men,
is sufficient to direct in all that is essential to the former ; the latter is
founded on the law supernaturally revealed in the Scriptures. Civil
magistrates and judges are “ the ministers of God ecclesiastical
rulers are “ the ministers of Christ,” and pronounce judgment in his
name, or by his authority. “ Jesus said. All power is given unto me in
heaven and in earth.”

They differ in their objects. Civil judgment is pronounced on things
that pertain to this life and the external man — his property, his life, his
liberty, or his good name 3 ecclesiastical judgment, on things that per-

448

SERMON XVII.

tain to the welfare of the soul and to the life to come. If the former
has to do with religious matters, it is either upon the ground that
religion in general is conducive to the welfare of secular society, or be¬
cause particular religious acts interfere with civil rights ; if the latter
have to do with civil matters, it is only in so far as they relate to the
conscience. If at any time the same actions, materially considered, fall
under the cognisance of both jurisdictions, as in the case of theft or
murder, the formal light in which they are judged by each is different ;
the secular judicatory proceeds against them as crimes, which mjure
civil society ; the ecclesiastical as scandals, which mar the purity of the
church.

They differ in their ends. The end of secular judgment, in subordina¬
tion to the glory of God, is the external peace and temporal jirosperity
of men, or, as the apostle expresses it, “ that we may live quiet and
peaceable lives in all godliness and honesty.” The end of ecclesiastical
judgment, in subordination to the glory of God by Christ, is the pro¬
moting of the spiritual and eternal interests of man, or, in the words of
the same apostle, “ that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord
Jesus.”

They differ, so far as their subjects are concerned, in their extent.
Civil judgment extends to all who belong to the commonwealth ; spiri¬
tual judgment is confined to those who have been embodied into a
church state.

They differ in their sanctions, and in the means which they employ
to accomplish their ends. Civil authority is supported by the power of
the sword, ecclesiastical authority by the power of the word, or, as it is
sometimes designed, of “ the keys.” By the former, judgment is exe¬
cuted on the delinquent, according to the nature of his crime, to im¬
prisonment, banishment, confiscation of goods, or death ■, by the latter,
judgment is executed on the offender to admonition, rebuke, suspension
from sealing ordinances, or excommunication.

In fine, even when the same offences fall under the cognisance of both
judicatures, the issue may be different. The ecclesiastical judges may
pronounce the highest spiritual sentence against one whom the secular
authorities, in the exercise of prudent policy, may spare ; and the latter
may inflict capital punishment on an individual whom the former may
receive and absolve at the last hour, as in the case of a penitent mur¬
derer or traitor.

From these premises it follows, that, as there is an exercise of judg¬
ment in the church essentially distinct from that which is civil and cri¬
minal in the state ; so, on the one hand, the two jurisdictions, so far
from being inconsistent with one another, are fitted for being mutually
helpful in the advancement of objects common to both ; and, on the
other hand, the ecclesiastical judicature, not being derived from the
secular, is not subordinate to it, and is equally competent and necessary
under Christian and Heathen rulers. Even during the Jewish dispen-

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

449

sation, under which civil and religious matters were more intimately
conjoined than under the Christian, the two jurisdictions were kept dis¬
tinct. A line of demarcation between the office of the civil judge, and
that of the priest, was laid down in the Mosaic code ; and in the arrange¬
ments “ for the judgment of the Lord, and for controversies,” made in
the days of the reforming Jehoshaphat, we find Amariah the high priest
appointed as president “ in all matters of the Lord,” and Zebadiah, the
iTiler of the house of Judah, for all the king’s matters.” ^

2. Ecclesiastical judgment is ministerial and executive, not lordly or
legislative. This property is implied in the titles and designations
which the Scriptures give to those by whom it is exercised — ministers
or servants of Christ, bishops or overseers, pastors or shepherds, and
stewards, who, in the economy of a great family, act under the directions
of their master and lord. It is apparent from the injunction of Christ
to his disciples : “ The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them,
— but ye shall not be so.” And this language he used at the very time
that he told them, “ye shall sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of
Israel. ” ^ Everything which approaches to supreme authority, and
which implies lordship over the conscience or dominion over the faith
of Christians, is to be refused as an encroachment on the sovereignty of
the “ one Lord ” of the church, and an infringement of that “ liberty
wherewith he hath made her free.”

Christ is the sole lawgiver in his spiritual kingdom ; and the proper
business of the office-bearers whom he hath appointed is to interpret
and carry into execution those laws which he has given forth and en¬
rolled in his statute-book. Nor is this inconsistent with their making
acts which serve to regulate certain external circumstances connected
with the worship of God and ecclesiastical discipline. This is a power
intrusted to courts of pure law and justice among men, although they
have no legislative authority. Provided such regulations do not en¬
croach upon true Christian liberty, and are enacted, not from the thirst
of domination and mere arbitrary will, but with the design of preserving
order and promoting edification or uniformity, they are to be cheerfully
obeyed ; and even when they may appear inconvenient or less calculated
to accomplish these ends, it is the duty of individuals to yield a prac¬
tical submission to them, in order to avoid schism, scandal, or the con¬
tempt of lawful authority.

3. It is public and authoritative. There is a right of private judgment,
called by divines the judgment of discretion, which belongs to all the
members of the church, and extends to everything connected with reli¬
gion, and among others to the decisions of ecclesiastical judicatories. But
there must also be lodged, in every well-ordered society, a power of pro¬
nouncing by its proper organs, a public judgment for deciding disputes
and controversies which may arise, and for determining the manner in
wliich its affairs shall be conducted. This public judgment is not merely

1 Deut. xvii, 8 — 12. 2 Chron. xix. 8—11. 2 Luke, xxii. 25, 26, comp, verse. 30.

450

SERMON XVII.

consultative and hortatory, but authoritative ; and when rightly formed,
it is to be submitted to, not only because it is materially agreeable to
the standard of Scripture, but also because it has been pronounced by
an ordinance of Christ. “ If he neglect to hear the church, let him be
to thee as a heathen man and a publican.” Hence we read of “ the
decrees ordained by the apostles and elders,” copies of which were given
forth, and “delivered to be kept and the obedience yielded to them
was attended with the happiest effects, for “ so were the churches estab¬
lished in the faith, and increased in number daily.” ^

A public judgment as to matters of common concern does not destroy
or set aside the right of private judgment. On the contrary, it is one
means of protecting church-members in the enjoyment of that privilege,
by preventing one or a few persons from lording over others, and securing
to all those advantages which are to be enjoyed in a social state. It no
doubt regulates and restrains the exercise of private judgment, so as to
prevent it from interfering with the public good ; and were not this
allowed, there would be an end of all society, both civil and religious,
and men would return to a state of nature, or rather would be reduced
to an unnatural state. Society has its rights, as well as individuals have
theirs, and when the claims of the two interfere or clash, reason and
revelation agree in teaching that the latter should yield to, and be con¬
trolled by, the former. At the same time, every equitable and wise
government will respect the private judgment of individuals, and will
make a wide distinction between those who, from motives ajDparently
conscientious, oppose public decisions in a modest and peaceable man¬
ner, and those who manage a factious and disorderly resistance ; and,
above all others, an authority which has to do with matters which more
immediately relate to the conscience, would need to be tender on this
head, and to refrain from enacting an aj^proval of all its determinations.
The church is not infallible in her decisions ; her authority is limited
and ministerial ; “ all synods or councils since the apostles’ times,
whether general or particular, may err, and many have erred ;” and
upon these grounds alone, though there were no other, the right of
dissent, protest, or remonstrance, both judicially and extrajudiciaUy,
ought to be conceded and kept sacred, although this is apt to be for¬
gotten by those very societies which have derived their separate exis¬
tence, and taken their discriminating designation, from the exercise of
this right.

4. It is to be exercised by select persons set apart for this purpose,
and not by the community of the faithful. He who “ appointed tbe
ordinances of heaven and earth,” who made the sun to rule by day, and
the moon and stars by night, who constituted man the superior of this
lower world, giving him dominion over the beast of the earth, the fowl
of the air, and the fish of the sea, who hath laid in human nature the
principles and foundations of all reasonable authority — marital, paren-

1 Acts, xvi. 4. 5.

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

451

tal, herile, and political — by whom kings reign and princes decree justice,
even all the judges of the earth, — he is the author of “the ordinances of
justice” in the church. We know, and are assured, from the analogy
of all his works, that he could not be the author of what has the re¬
motest tendency to produce confusion in that society which was pur¬
chased with the blood of his Son, and of which he hath made him head
and lord.

“ In the multitude of counsellors is safety,” in opposition to the danger
incurred by him who relies on his own judgment, or the advice of one
or two favourites ; but counsellors consist of a select number taken from
many. It is not from a promiscuous multitude that we are to expect
the wisest and most equitable decision. History shows that the rights
of individuals have been more flagrantly violated, and that more unjust
and cruel sentences have been pronounced, under democracies than
under any other form of government. This is so evident, that almost
every people have chosen, voluntarily, to commit the management of
their aftairs, and especially the administration of their laws, to a few.
The due exercise of justice requires, in an eminent degree, deliberation,
calmness, patience, impartiality, superiority to prejudice, and the know¬
ledge of human nature as well as of law, — qualities which do not
characterise the proceedings of a large assembly, composed of persons
of every class, temper, and attainment. Surely those persons do not
act advisedly, how good soever their intentions may be, who labour to
introduce a democratic government into the church of Christ ; and it
would require the clearest proof of a divine prescription to warrant the
adoption of a mode of management which, judging according to com¬
mon principles, is equally hazardous to justice, truth, and tranquillity.
Unity and peace may be preserved for a time in such societies, provided
they be small ; but in that case, the increase which has been promised
to the church, instead of being prayed for as a blessing, would need to
be deprecated as a curse. If harmony has been maintained for a con¬
siderable period in churches where every question is submitted to the
voice of the people, it will be found on examination, we apprehend, that
this has been owing to the superior influence which one or a few indi¬
viduals have acquired over the body, and that the government, though
nominally popular and congregational, was really select and presbyterian,
if not single and monarchical.

All rights in society imply corresponding duties, and require cor¬
responding gifts. If a person has a right to rule, it is his duty to rule,
and he must possess the requisite qualifications for discharging the task.
But it seems difficult to say which is greatest, the absurdity or the
hardship of the assumption, that every one who is admitted to the
benefits of a society, shall be bound and capacitated to take an active
share in its public managements. May not a person be both an honest
and useful servant in a family, and yet not be fit for occupying the
situation of a steward, or for being consulted, and having his vote

452

SERMON XVII.

taken, as to the economy of the household 1 The capacity of conducting
one’s self in a private station, and the capacity of conducting public
affairs, surely are distinct things. Every Christian is capable of under¬
standing the things that pertain to his salvation ; but it does not follow
from this that he is qualified for feeding the flock of God. It is ijot
necessarily required of every church member that he be able to rule a
family well ; but if he be incapable of this, “ how shall he take care of
the church of God?” The ascended Head of the church “gave gifts to
men but does it appear, either from Scripture or experience, that he
bestowed the gift to rule upon all who believe on him? The New
Testament uniformly speaks of persons who rule in the church, in dis¬
tinction from those who obey ; but with what propriety of speech can
those be called rulers who are permitted to do nothing without the
express consent of the whole, or the majority, of those who are bound
to obey them? It is no valid objection to this reasoning, that the
Scriptures speak of acts of jurisdiction as proceeding from the church.
Eulers are the instituted organs of the church, by whom its will is
declared. In common language, that is said to be the deed of a com¬
munity which has been done by its office-bearers or representatives.
Great Britain declared war against France, made peace with Spain,
entered into an alliance with Austria and Russia, abolished the slave
trade. In like manner that is often ascribed in Scripture to the con¬
gregation, and the whole congregation, which was really transacted,
and judicially determined, by their elders, heads, or princes.^

Lastly, it is to be exercised by them jointly, and in parity. The only
monarchical power in the church is exercised by Jesus Christ. She
acknowledges but “one Lord.” No individual on earth is entitled to
pronounce judgment by his single authority, either universally as pope,
or over a national church as primate, or over a diocese as bishop. From
the very nature of the work, the Gospel must be preached, and the
sacraments administered, by pastors singly ; but to warrant them to
proceed to acts of jurisdiction, even in particular congregations, they
must be associated with other elders, whose office it is to “ rule,” though
they do not “labour in word and doctrine.”^ The promise of the divine
presence and blessing is made to such assemblies : “ Where two or three
are met in my name, there am I in the midst of them to bless them.”
In primitive times “elders” were accordingly ordained in every city.
Though an apostle, Paul associated the presbytery, or eldership, with
himself in the act of ordination.^ And the incestuous person at Corinth
was not excommunicated by his sole authority : “ sufficient to such a
man is this punishment inflicted by many.”* As in all judicial proceed¬
ings, the office-bearers of the church are bound to act conjunctly, so they
possess equal power. There was no primacy or even superiority of

I Exod. xii. 3, comp, verse 21 ; Num. xxxv. 12, 24, 25, comp. Deut. xix. 12, and Josh.
XX. 4, 6 ; 1 Chron. xiii. i., comp, verses 2, 4 ; 1 Chrou. xxix. i., comp, xxviii. i. ; 2 Chron.
i. 3, corap. verse 2.

2 1 Tim. V. 17. ^ 2 Tim. i. 6, comp. 2 Tim. iv. 14. ^ 2 Cor. ii. 6, 7.

THE SPIKIT OF JUDGMENT.

453

office-power among the apostles. The least appearance among them
of a disposition to acquire pre-eminence was strictly prohibited and
severely reproved by Christ : “ He that is greatest among you shall be
your servant. One is your master, and all ye are brethren.”

Such being the nature and the objects of the judgment which be¬
longs to the office-bearers of the church, it is apparent that they require
qualifications of no common kind. Let us, therefore, proceed to con¬
sider,

II. The spirit which is requisite for the exercise of ecclesiastical judg¬
ment, and which is promised in the text. Jesus Christ is not only the
exemplar, but also the fountain of all qualifications for ruling in the
church. It was prophesied, “ The Spirit of the Lord shaU rest upon
him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and
might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord; and shall
make him of qiiick understanding in the fear of the Lord : and he shall
not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove after the hearing
of his ears : but with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove
with equity for the meek of the earth : and he shall smite the earth
with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he
slay the wicked.” ^ As the Head of the church he bestows these gifts ;
and to the Holy Spirit belongs the communication of them in point of
efficiency.

1. I begin with the fear of the Lord, or a deep sense of religion.
This is the ground into which all the other qualities must be wrought,
in order to form the character of one who “behaves” himself as he
ought in the house of God, which is the church of “ the living God.”
It is the beginning of all wisdom, and the germ from which every pub¬
lic virtue springs. Ho gifts, how eminent soever, will compensate for
the want of this. A godless person may be expected to prove an
unfaithful steward and unjust judge. If in secular society, “he that
ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of the Lord,” the maxim
applies with unspeakably greater force to that which is sacred. The
manifestation of this quality is assigned as at once the reason of the
powers conferred on Levi, and the security for his exerting them with
success : “ I gave them to him for the fear wherewith he feared me,
and was afraid before me ; the law of truth was in his mouth, and
iniquity was not found in his lips ; he walked with me in peace and
equity, and did turn many away from iniquity.”^

2. The spirit of wisdom and understanding. A good heart and
upright intentions are not enough here. Indeed, these will scarcely
suffice in a private station ; for in this world all Christians need to be
“wise as serpents,” and to “walk circumspectly.” But knowledge,
prudence, and discernment, are peculiarly requisite for the management
of public affairs. Those who are invested with office in the church

^ Isa. xi. 2 — 4. ^ Mai. ii, 5, 6.

454

SERMON XVII.

must be men “ full of wisdom,” as well as “ of the Holy Ghost.” They
must be “well instructed in the kingdom of heaven.” They require
also a competent knowledge of the world, that they may “walk in
wisdom toward them that are without and of human nature, for
Christians are men of like passions with others ; and the Spirit of God,
by his supernatural influence, raises and purifies, without forcing or
superseding the operation of the natural faculties. Ministerial gifts are
distributed with a wise variety. “ Unto one is given the word of know¬
ledge ; ” an accurate and sound acquaintance with the doctrines and
ordinances of religion. “ Unto another is given the word of wisdom ;”
a judicious and comprehensive perception of what ought to be done for
the advancement of truth and the edification of the body in existing
circumstances. One can lay down the law with clearness ; another can
state the question with precision, sift the evidence, and apply the law
to the fact. Let both abound in their respective gifts, and let each
honour and improve that of the other ; for “ the manifestation of the
Spirit is given to every man to profit withal,” and “ the eye cannot say
to the hand I have no need of thee, neither the hand to the feet, I have
no need of you.”

3. The spirit of disinterestedness and impartiality. This is “the
spirit of judgment” — when the individual is sunk in the public func¬
tionary — when on crossing the threshold of the sanctuary, and ascend¬
ing the seat of judgment, he forgets self and all worldly considerations.
Those who judge for the Lord, must be denied to their own interest and
honour and aggrandisement, and seek only the welfare of sords, the
honour of Christ, and the enlargement of his kingdom. They must be
exempt from covetousness, and superior to the sordid love of gain ;
“ taking the oversight of the flock, not for filthy lucre’s sake, but of a
ready mind.” Of such a spirit was Moses, who magnanimously refused
Heaven’s offer to make of him a great nation, and was ready to die for
Israel. Such was Nehemiah, who for twelve years refused his salary
as governor, “ because the bondage was heavy upon the people.” And
such was the apostle of the Gentiles, who, treading in the high steps of
these godly and patriotic rulers, could say, “ Behold the third time I
am ready to come to you, and I will not be burdensome to you ; for I
seek not yours, but you.”

And to a disinterested spirit must be added impartiality. The
balance of justice must be held with such an even hand, as that the
sentence shall resemble that which “ comes from his presence whose
eyes behold the things which are equal and with this view a vigilant
and unremitting guard must be kept over the working of those passions
and affections which have a tendency to bias and mislead the judg¬
ment, though they should not corrupt the heart. Church officers need
always to bear in mind that their courts are fenced by “ calling on the
Father, who, without respect of persons, judgeth every man according
to his work.” There must be no accepting of persons in the distribu-

THE SPIEIT OF JUDGMENT,

455

tion of justice — no favour shown on the ground of relationship, private
friendship, or acquaintance, worldly rank or W'ealth, splendid gifts,
eminent services, or even general character, how spotless and exalted
soever it may be. While the man with the gold ring and gay clothing
is not to be preferred to him who appears in vile raiment, the divine
law, with stern impartiality, forbids the wresting of justice even in
favour of the poor. “Ye shall do no unrighteousness in judgment ;
thou shalt not respect the person of the poor, nor honour the person of
the mighty ; but in righteousness shalt thou judge thy neighbour.” '■
Of this spirit must every one be “ that sitteth in judgment.” A modest
man will be induced to suspect and review his opinion, when he finds
himself in a minority ; and all due weight ought to be given to the
sentiments of those who are superior in age, in talents, and in charac¬
ter ; but on the seat of judgment, and in questions which involve sin
and duty, justice and injustice, every one must act and answer for him¬
self. “ Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil ; neither shalt thou
speak in a cause to decline after many to wrest judgment.”^

0 how difficult and rare is this union of disinterestedness and impar¬
tiality ! “ For all seek their own, not the things which are Jesus
Christ’s.” Barnabas, though a “good man,” and disinterested above
many, appears to have yielded to partiality in favour of a near relation ;
and those who “ seemed to be pillars ” have been found, when judgment
was laid to the line and equity to the plummet, shaken and moved from
the base of strict rectitude and integrity. But this spirit is promised
in our text, and it has been exemplified, to the honour of religion,
especially in times of reformation. It was the manifestation of this
spirit which drew the inspired eulogy and benediction on the tribe of
Levi, from the dying lips of the lawgiver of Israel : “ Let thy
Thummim and thy Urim be with thy holy one, whom thou didst prove
at Massah, and with whom thou didst strive at the waters at Meribah :
who said unto his father and to his mother, I have not seen him,
neither did he acknowledge his brethren, nor knew his own children.
They shall teach Jacob thy judgments, and Israel thy law. Bless,
Lord, his substance, and accept the work of his hands ; smite through
the loins of them that rise against him, and of them that hate him, that
they rise not again.” ^

4. A spirit of patience and meekness. It is only by a cool, patient,
and dispassionate examination, that a judge can come to a sound
decision on any cause. Those who judge in the Lord’s matters must
not spare themselves, nor be niggardly of their time, attention, and
labour. Nothing is more unbecoming than sallies of passion, or fits of
impatience, on the bench ; for he who cannot rule his own spirit, is unfit
to govern others. “ The man Moses was meek above all the men on
the face of the earth,” and therefore qualified for taking the charge of
a froward and rebellious people. The olfice-bearers of the church may

1 Lev. xix. 15, comp. Exod. xxiii. 3. 2 Exod. xxiii. 2. ® Deut. xxxiii. 8 — 11.

45G

SERMON XVII,

lay their account with having both their temper and their patience tried
by unreasonable and unruly men, who despise dominion, and are not
afraid to speak evil of dignities ! for all men have not faith, and even
those who have it are often peevish, prejudiced, and pragmatical, and
sometimes self-willed, heady, and high-minded. When differences have
arisen in churches, about matters perhaps in which conscience had no
concern, when personal interest or family honour has become involved,
when parties have been arranged, when faction has raised its many-
coloured banner, and discord, with its hoarse trumpet, has proclaimed,

“ To your tents, 0 Israel,” 0 what sad discoveries have been made !
How inconsistently have even good men acted ! and with what reckless¬
ness have they given their principles, their professions, and their vows
to the winds ! In the midst of this storm, “the servant of the Lord,”
possessing his soul in peace, “ must not strive, but be gentle to all men,
apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those who oppose them¬
selves, if G-od peradventure will give them repentance to the acknow¬
ledging of the truth.”

5. The spirit of holy resolution and courage. The servant of the
Lord will never forget that the power given to him is “ for ediffcation,
not destruction ; ” those who have been overtaken in a fault, he will be
disposed to “ restore in the spirit of meekness ; ” nor will he exert the
authority with which he is armed for “ revenging all disobedience,”
until he has exerted every habile means for separating the deluded from
the reprobate, and given them an opportunity to demonstrate their
obedience.^ But though not reckless of consequences, he deems the
sacriffce of truth and equity too great for the peace even of th§ church.

A judge must be rigidly, sternly tenacious of the right, which he must
not yield either to the threats of the tyrant, or the clamours of a mis¬
guided populace. Better that the tribunal should be dyed with his
blood, than that it should be profaned by one imjust sentence. Fiat
justitia, ruat coelum. Those who are most gentle, and patient, and for¬
bearing, while forbearance is a duty, will be most firm and undaunted
when called upon to resist the evil spirit, who has broken through the
sacred enclosures of the church, and is laying waste all its pleasant
things. Who more self-denied, and patient, and condescending than
the apostle who “ became all things to all men % ” But who more fear¬
less, and resolute, and uncomplying than he, when the purity of the
Gospel, the liberty of Christians, and the authority which he exercised
in the name of his Divine Master, were at stake, and in danger of being
lost, tarnished, or brought into discredit 1 ^ “ Deal courageously,” said
Jehoshaphat to the judges, “ and the Lord shall be with the good.” *

Lastly, the spirit of humility and dependence on God. Secular
judges, when they take their seat on the bench, appear in their robes
of office. The garb in which those who sit on “ the judgment of the '
Lord ” should appear, is humility, in the sight of God of great price,

1 2 Cor. X. 6. * 2 Cor. x. 1 — 11 ; xiii. 1 — 3, 10. * 2 Chron. xix. 11.

THE SPIRIT OF JUDGMENT.

457

and richer than scarlet or ermine. “ Ye younger, submit yourselves to
the elder ; yea, all of you be subject one to another ; and be clothed
with humility.” The cultivation of this grace is of the greatest utility
for regulating the conduct of the ministers of Christ toward one
another, by preventing those ungodly jealousies, worldly rivalries, and
unseemly animosities which sometimes rise among them, to the scandal
of religion, the vilifying of their office, and the quenching of the Spirit.
How disgraceful to see the servants of the meek and lowly Jesus striv¬
ing, not for the faith of the Gospel, but for the mastery, provoking one
another, not to love and good works, but to envy and every evil work,
girding themselves, not with the armour of God, but with the instru¬
ments of unrighteousness, and converting the courts of the Lord’s house
into an arena for fierce debates, envyings, wraths, strifes, backbitings,
whisperings, SAvellings, tumults. But what saith the Scripture 1 “ Let
nothing be done through strife or vain-glory, but in lowliness of mind,
let each esteem other better than themselves.” This appears a paradox
to many j but it is so only to those who have not learned to “ receive
the kingdom of God as a little child.” Humility is no less useful in
regulating the conduct of ministers towards the Christian people, by
keeping them from affecting dominion, and assuming those airs of
authority which, instead of exalting their office and securing respect
for their persons, uniformly tend to provoke resistance to the former,
and to breed contempt for the latter. When at any time we may be in
danger of being puffed up with pride, we have only to recollect the
humility with which our Divine Master conducted himself on earth,
going in and out among his disciples as one that serveth. If we weigh
the momentous nature of our office against the honours which may be
attached to it, and consider our gifts in connection with the awful
responsibilities which they impose, 0 how little reason shall we find for
boasting or self-gratulation ! Instead of being lifted up with pride,
we will be humbled to the dust, and brought to the attitude and dis¬
position of dependants, who have nothing but 'what they have received,
and Avho need to be daily “ receiving out of His fulness, and grace for
grace.” “ Who is sufficient for these tilings ? — Not I, but the grace of
God which is with me.”

Among the practical lessons which our subject furnishes, allow me
to specify the following : —

In the^rst place, we may learn the great importance of ecclesiastical
discipline, and of preserving it in its scriptural purity and primitive
vigour. Evangelical and vital religion cannot flourish generally or
permanently in any church where this is neglected. Discipline is to
the church of Christ what a wall is to a city, when an enemy has
taken the field. It serves the same purpose that a fence does to a
garden ; if it be broken down, or suffered to fall into disrepair, the
boar from the forest, and the wild beast of the field, will enter, and

2 H

458

SERMON XVII.

devour all that is beautiful or productive within. This is a subject
which ought to come home with peculiar force to the consciences
and feelings of all Christians dwelling in this favoured land. As
marks of the true church, the reformers on the Continent specified the
pure preaching of the word, and administration of the sacraments ; but,
in addition to these, our reformers of Scotland, in their first Confession
of Faith, described “ discipline executed according to the word of God,
as a certain and infallible sign of the true church.” The establishment
of a scriptural and efficient discipline in the Church of Scotland, at the
very beginning of the Reformation, was her distinguishing glory, on
account of which she was lauded and felicitated by foreigners, who
desired to possess that blessing, but could not obtain it. As the want
of this ordinance of the church’s Head has produced the most mourn¬
ful consequences abroad, so to the neglect or perversion of it at home
may be ascribed, in a high degree, those corruptions as to faith, worship,
and morals which have spread among ourselves, and which, more than
once, have threatened to lay waste all our pleasant things. “ Purity of
doctrine and discipline,” says one of our religious patriots, who “ stood
in the gap ” at a critical period of our ecclesiastical history, “ are like the
twins of Hippocrates, who always sickened and recovered at the same
time, and at last dwined and died together.”

In the second place, we may see one duty incumbent on those who
have devoted themselves to the public service of the church, or who
are engaged in studies preparatory to the work of the ministry. To
preach the Gospel is a principal part of their employment, but it is not
the whole of it. It is possible that a person may be able to make a
sermon which shall be both acceptable and edifying, and, after all, be
but poorly qualified for “ taking care of the church of God.” It is true,
as formerly hinted, that there is a diversity of gifts among ministers,
and few excel in all ; yet they should “ covet earnestly the best gifts,”
and labour to qualify themselves for every department of their function.
Younger ministers should study ecclesiastical jurisprudence. They
ought to make themselves familiar with those portions of the sacred
oracles which relate to this subject; and they will find, in the Penta¬
teuch, the book of Proverbs, and the writings of the prophets, as well
as in the New Testament, maxims and practical instructions, which
will be of the highest use in directing them how to act among the
people committed to their charge, and how to form a judgment on
those questions on which they may be called to decide in deliberative
assemblies. Next to the Scriptures, they should acquaint themselves
with the authorised books of discipline, and the acts and proceedings of
the best reformed churches, especially of the Church of Scotland ; and,
adding observation to reading, they should give the closest attention to
the proceedings of the judicatories to which they are admitted, availing
themselves of the enlarged experience of their elder bretliren, that so
they may “ purchase to themselves a good degree,” and, their spiritual

THE SPIEIT OF JUDGMENT.

459

senses being improved by exercise, they may be able rightly to divide
the word of truth, and to discern between good and evil. It was a
proposal made to the Synod of Dort, and which received the recommend¬
ation of that famous assembly, that students of divinity, after finishing
their academical education, should, for some time before their ordina¬
tion, attend the meetings of inferior church courts, to observe their
modes of procedure, that, when admitted to the ministry, they might
be better qualified for taking a share of ecclesiastical government.
Permit me here to mention an observation made many years ago, that
it had become a too common custom among young ministers, even in
the Secession, to come up to the meetings of the supreme court rather
to visit their friends, and enjoy themselves, than to attend on public
business — a practice which could not fail to produce very hurtful effects ;
and perhaps it was partly owing to this that congregations, in many
instances, fell from their ancient laudable custom of furnishing ministers
and ruling elders at a distance with the external means necessary to
' enable them to wait regularly on the judicatories. We trust that it
will be long before this neglect of attendance shall prevail in our body.
But we should take warning from past experience ; the evil creeps in
imperceptibly, and when it has become general and inveterate, will
resist and baffle every remedy.

In the third place, we may learn from this subject what care ought to
be exercised in choosing and setting apart those who are to bear office
in the church. The privilege granted to the Christian people, to choose
their own pastors and elders, imposes an obligation on them to exercise
it with serious deliberation and fervent prayer. There is not a stronger
prejudice against the right of popular election than that which has been
excited by the haste, the levity, and the capriciousness with which it
has often been used. As congregations in many instances can only be
partially acquainted with those to whom their choice is limited, and as
they are but too apt to prefer the showy to the solid qualities, a higher
responsibility rests on the judicatories of the church, to whom it belongs
to pronounce a judgment on probationers for the holy ministry, both
anterior and subsequent to their election. To them the charge is given,
“ Lay hands suddenly on no man ; be not partakers of other men’s
sins.” The counsel anciently given by a heathen king, is not unde¬
serving of the attention of a Christian synod : “ Thou, Ezra, after the
wisdom of thy God, that is in thine hand, set magistrates and judges,
which may judge all the people that are beyond the river, all such
as know the laws of thy God ; and teach ye them that know them
not.” ^

In the fourth place, we may see the scriptural grounds of subjection
to the authority, and obedience to the determinations of church rulers.
These are, the divine institution of ecclesiastical government, the con¬
nection between it and the regal glory of Christ, and the salutary

1 Ezra, vii. 25.

4G0

SERMON XVII.

influence which it is calculated to exert upon all other divine institu¬
tions, as well as upon the peace, unity, order, purity, and general pros¬
perity of the church as a visible and diffusive society. A base subjec¬
tion of the conscience to human authority, and a blind and implicit
obedience to the decrees of men, without bringing them to the test of
the supreme and unerring standard, are equally unscrip tural and irra¬
tional ; but, on the other hand, those who cast off all subordinate and
regulated authority in the church, and plead for a boundless liberty to
act in all matters of religion according to the dictates of their own
mind, — those who, though they profess to own authority in general, uni¬
formly contemn its exercise when they themselves are the objects of it,
or teach others to do so, — and those who cherish a morbid and sickly
jealousy of all who are in public office, although they give the most
unequivocal proofs of disinterestedness and moderation — are not actu¬
ated by the spirit of Christ and of God.

In the fifth place, our subject suggests suitable exercise on occasion
of the meeting of ecclesiastical judicatories. It was a custom in the
better times of our church, to set apart a day for fasting and prayer
before the meeting of a general assembly, to entreat the divine counte¬
nance to its deliberations. We are afi'aid that, in the times in which
we live, the same deep interest is not felt in the meetings of the courts
of Christ by Christians of any denomination. Are the same fervent suppli¬
cations now presented which used formerly to ascend from every pulpit,
praying society, and family, for weeks before such an occasion as that
which has brought us together ? Do we need them less ? Assuredly
no. Have we less encouragement to offer them 1 Not, so long as the
text remains in our Bibles. Let all, then, and especially those who are
called to take part in the management of the public affairs of the church,
humbly, fervently, and believingly plead that the Lord of Hosts may be
to us for a spirit of judgment when we sit in judgment. “ I have set
watchmen on thy walls, 0 Jerusalem, which shall never hold their peace
day or night : ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence ; and
give him no rest till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise
in the earth.”

In fine, reverend fathers and brethren, having received this ministry,
let us take heed to it to fulfil it. Let us not faint, but stir up the gift
of God that is in us. Let us set the Lord before us, and he will be at
our right hand, to instruct and uphold us. Let us take heed to our¬
selves, and to the whole flock over which the Holy Ghost hath made us
overseers, to feed the church of God which he hath purchased with his
own blood. Let us cherish, and in our deliberations display, that
catholic and truly liberal spirit which will induce us to merge the par¬
ticular interests of those congregations with which we are more imme¬
diately connected, in the general and common interests of the whole
body for whom we are this day met to act. Let us remember that we

THE SPIKIT OF JUDGMENT.

461

judge not for man, but the Lord, who is with us in the judgment, — that
His glory is deeply concerned in what we do, — that the preservation of
truth and righteousness, and the eternal well-being of precious souls,
are concerned in it,— that, for aught we know, the interests of genera¬
tions yet unborn may be involved in our deliberations, — that His eyes,
which are as a flame of Are, are upon us,— and that we must, in a little,
individually, and all of us at last, face to face, appear before a greater
than any earthly tribunal, and give an account of the use we have made
of every talent, and of the manner in which we have managed the sacred
trust committed to us by the Lord of the church, who is now saying to
each of us, “ Behold, I come quickly ; hold that fast which thou hast,
that no man take thy crown.”

462

SEEMON XVIIL

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES. i

“ 0 my Lord, what shall be the end of these things V' — Daniel, xii. 8.

It is impossible for any person to look on the present aspect of Provi¬
dence, with an observing, and especially a religious eye, without being
persuaded that our lot has fallen on critical times, times which teem
with important events affecting the interests of society in general, and
of the church of God in particular. At no distant period, good men
were inclined to hope that the existing agitation was on the surface of
society, and that it would soon subside, and leave things in their former
state of tranquillity. That day is gone by; and there are few, I believe,
how opposite soever their opinions may be of the moral character of the
times, who are not now come to the contrary conclusion, and who are
not convinced that this ferment is increasing, that its exciting causes
are deep and widely extended, that they are as yet but partially
developed, and that many days must elapse before the storm shall have
spent its rage, and the agitated waves wrought themselves into repose.
The Christian, instructed in the course of Providence by a light shed on
it from the volume of revelation, has reasons peculiar to himself for
coming to this conclusion. He looks beyond the feeble arm and narrow
counsels of men, to the arm and counsel of Him who has all events and
all hearts under his absolute control, and who overrules them for
the accomplishment of his holy and irrevocable purposes. He knows
that the Lord has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land ; he is
persuaded that He will thoroughly plead the cause which is His own,
and is prepared to expect that great changes on the frame of society,
both civil and ecclesiastical, will usher in a flourishing state of that
kingdom for the sake of which all kingdoms rise or fall. His eye is
therefore directed to the operations of Providence ; and though he
knows that these are not the proper rule of what he ought to do in his
station, yet he views them with the deepest interest ; and, with the over¬
powering feelings of the wise and holy man in the text, he inquires,
“ 0 my Lord, what shall be the end of these things % ”

These words belong to a vision with which Daniel was favoured on
the banks of the Hiddekel, and which is described in the last three

1 Delivered iu May 1S34.

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

463

chapters of his book. There appeared to him a man clothed in linen,
who, after the prophet had.recovered from the swoon into which he was
thrown by the heavenly apparition, disclosed to him the future fates
of the children of his people. Though some late interpreters have
explained the greater part of the prediction in the eleventh chapter as
referring to events happening under the Christian era, it seems most
natural to apply it to the reign of Antiochus Epiphanes, the great
enemy of God and of his ancient people. That was a time of great
trouble to the Jews, and seemed to threaten their extermination as a
people, and along with them the extermination of true religion.^ This
could not fail to oppress the devout and patriotic mind of Daniel, who
was relieved, fu-st, by a promise of deliverance to his people, and
secondly, by the appearance of two new personages who inquired of the
man clothed in linen, “ How long shall it be to the end of these
wonders ? ” Daniel “ heard, but did not understand ” the reply ; and
taught by this that the theme was too high for him, he turns his
question from the time to the manner of the time. “ Then said I, 0
my Lord, what shall be the end of these things— these wonders 1” It is
the language of humble, earnest, adoring inquiry and prayer, and
expressive of the workings of a pious mind contemplating the afflic¬
tions of the church, and looking forward to their issue. Let us, looking
up to the Spirit who leads into all truth, endeavour to improve it, pro¬
ceeding upon the broad principle that “ whatsoever was written afore¬
time was written for our learning,” and keeping in view the analogy
which pervades all the works of God.

“ The works of the Lord are great ; sought out of all that take
pleasure therein.” But there is a depth of wisdom and sovereignty
about some of them, on account of which they may be characterised as
“ wonders,” calling forth astonishment and awe and amazement in the
minds of those who are most practised in the study of Providence.
Among these are the calamities with which the church is sometimes
assailed, and her interests brought into great and imminent peril. Let
us, in the first place, contemplate some of these wonders ; and in the
next place, consider the temper and exercise which become us in con¬
templating them.

I. 1. It is a wonder that the church of God should be exposed to
calamity. Of all the wonders in the procedure of Him whose way is
in the sea, whose paths are in the mighty waters, and his footsteps
untraceable, this is one of the greatest ; and it has often excited the
wonder of the world, and the astonishment of those who are best
acquainted with his works. “ Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself,
0 God of Israel.” We might have expected that the people whom he
had chosen for his heritage, separated from the world lying in wicked¬
ness, formed into a kingdom of priests, made the depositary of his lively

1 Chap. xi. 13 — 35.

464

SERMON XVIII.

oracles, and blessed with his special residence and government, would
be guarded by a special Providence from every rude assault, and made
to dwell in peace under the shade of her Almighty protector. But it is
otherwise. “ My ways are not your ways, saith the Lord.” “ The
Lord knoweth the thoughts of men, that they are vanity.” The suffer¬
ings of the Son of God, when he was manifested in the flesh, were matter
of infinite surprise to his friends, and of mortal offence to his enemies ;
and as he was, so must his church be in the world. “ Behold I, and the
children whom the Lord hath given me, are for signs and wonders in
Israel from the Lord of hosts.” ^

2. It is a wonder — a mystery, that the calamities to which she is
exposed should sometime be so great and overwhelming. She is broken
with breach upon breach. Deep calleth unto deep against her ; all
God’s waves and billows pass over her. She is made to pass through
fire and through water. Bereaved of her cliildren, deserted by her
friends, desolate, a widow and a captive, Zion, standing on the smoking
ruins of her sacred habitation, has been heard to utter the bitter plaint,
“ Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by 1 behold, and see if there be
any sorrow like unto my sorrow.” ^ “ For under the whole heaven hath
not been done, as hath been done upon Jerusalem.” *

How often has the purity of the church, which is at once her glory
and her strength, been defaced by error and corruption ! Her greatest
enemies have been those of her own house, — her appointed or chosen
guardians, who have been ringleaders in apostasy : such were the
priests and the false prophets in Israel and Judah, and the false
teachers who privily brought in damnable doctrines to the Christian
churches. The hedge of discipline being broken down, the wild beasts
have rushed in, treading down the pasture and polluting the streams,
destined for the food and refreshment of the flock of God which he had
purchased with his own blood. Tlie furies of persecution have been
let loose upon her. They have fired her sanctuary, burnt up all the
synagogues of God in the land, slain her priests, given the bodies of her
saints to the wild beasts, and scattered the remainder to the four winds
of heaven.

3. It is a wonder that these calamities have come visibly from the
hand of God, and are accompanied with evident tokens of his dis-
pleasime. This makes the stroke so heavy — that the enemy and the
oppressor wields the rod of God’s anger, and has received a commis¬
sion against a hypocritical nation. This is the very gall of the bitter
draught, converting it into a cup of trembling and astonishment.
“ 0 God, THOU hast cast us off, thou hast scattered us, thou hast been
displeased — thou hast showed thy people hard things ; thou hast made
us to drink the wine of astonishment.” ^ The indignation of man they
could bear, the fury of the oppressor they coifid brave ; but a sense of
divine displeasure they feel to be intolerable. And the provocation

1 Isa. viii. 18. ^ Lam. i. 12. » Dan. ix. 12. <l’s. lx. i. 3.

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

465

cannot be small, which induces the Lord to forsake his house, to leave
Ids heritage, to give the dearly beloved of his soul into the hands of
her enemies.

4. The duration of the calamity is another wonder. It sometimes
continues until the strength of the friends of religion is gone, and their
hope is ready to give up the ghost. “ How long ! ” has often been the
utterance of the groan which has come from the bottom of the heart of
the suffering church. “ How long, 0 Lord ! is it for ever ? ” “ How
long wilt thou not have mercy on Jerusalem, against which thou hast
had indignation these threescore and ten years But this was a
short period, compared with that during which the witnesses for the
truth suffered from Antichrist — twelve hundred and sixty years. Hence
the loud cry of the souls of the martyrs under the altar, “ How long,
0 Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our blood on
them that dwell on the earth.” ^

Lastly, it is a wonder that her calamities produce so little effect.
The judgments with which God visits his church are intended for her
benefit and reformation, for correction and purification. If they were
seen to work the peaceable fruits of righteousness, awakening con¬
sideration, producing humihation, and leading to repentance, and to the
putting away of whatever has procured the divine displeasure, they
might be borne wdth patience, and even joyfulness. But, alas ! it is often
otherwise, and judgments, instead of softening, harden the heart. This
was what God had to complain of in his ancient people : “ Why should
ye be stricken any more 1 ye will revolt more and more.” ® This was
what led the prophet to despair of the recovery of the people committed
to his charge : “ 0 Lord, thou hast stricken them, but they have not
grieved ; thou hast consumed them, but they have refused to receive
correction.” ^ And still more strongly : “ The bellows are burnt, the
lead is consumed in the fire ; the founder melteth in vain ; for the
wicked are not plucked away ; reprobate silver shall men call them,
because the Lord hath rejected them.” ®

Having mentioned these things in general, I now proceed to specify
some particulars in our present situation which furnish ground of
anxious wonder. The church of God, in our day, is not subjected to
persecution, as in former times ; the judgments inflicted on her are of
a spiritual character, but they are not on that account the less alarming.
In fact, they are the severest of all, as they immediately affect the in¬
ternal interests of the chirrch. And here many things appear which are
portentous, and calculated to excite anxiety as to the issue.

1. It is a dark and portentous spot in our sky that the progress of
knowledge should be accompanied with so much infidelity and irreligion.
At the era of the Reformation, learning was the handmaid of religion,
attended her wherever she went, and did her willing homage. The
most learned men were then the most pious, and those who examined

1 Zech. i. 12. 2 Rgy, yj. lo. * Isa. i. 5. ^ Jer. v. 3. sib. vi. 29, 30.

466

SEEMON XVIII.

the Bible with the most critical accuracy were most deeply imbued with
its spirit. Infidelity was unknown within the pale of Protestantism.
How different now ! Though the Bible has been more extensively cir¬
culated than in any former age, and the means of instruction are ample,
yet impiety and profaneness are on the increase. The Scriptures are
treated, in a great measure, as a profane or common book, even by those
who make them the object of their special study. Science has long ago
declared herself independent of religion, and courts an alliance with in¬
fidelity rather than revelation. The time seems to be fast approaching
when Christianity will be divorced from education, and there is reason
to fear that knowledge, instead of being, as hitherto, the stability of
our times, will prove the source of our weakness, and the means of
our ruin.

2. Another ominous cloud in our horizon is the engrossing attention
to politics, and the indifference or aversion shown to religious privileges
amidst the struggle for those of a civil nature. In former times, espe¬
cially in our own land, the cause of civil and religious liberty, of political
and ecclesiastical imivileges, was identified. They had common friends
and common foes. Those who opposed regal despotism and arbitrary
power in the state, withstood the ecclesiastical supremacy and Erastian
encroachments on the church ; and the same parliament which had suc¬
cessfully vindicated its own freedom and privileges, removed the yoke
of patronage from the church’s neck, and left it free for her ministers
to be admitted “ upon the suit and calling of the congregation.” Need
I say how different it is at this day 1 Those who are loudest in their
cry for political privileges, in parliament and out of it, are not only in¬
different about ecclesiastical privileges, but are the most determined
foes to them. And those churchmen, who derive their distinctive name
from the people, and who, under God, owe all to the voice of the people,
are too generally hostile to popular rights. Not satisfied with having
the yoke imposed by state authority, it must be riveted by church
authority, and by means of the golden screw of a veto; and as the name
of the instrument is Koman, it must, I suppose, have a Roman inscrip¬
tion too, Esto perpetua. Really our friends of the Establishment ought
not to be surprised that Dissenters are moving a disjunction of Church
and State, when they themselves are pleading for the separation of
civil and ecclesiastical privileges, and insisting that there is no analogy
between them.

This feature of our times augurs ill for the continuance or successful
operation of our civil privileges. Rarely, if ever, have a people retained
for any long time their enjoyment of civil liberty, when strangers to
that which is of a religious character ; nor can we expect the blessing
of Heaven upon it, unless it is employed for the advancement of the
interests of Christ’s kingdom.

3. Here is another wonder, that those who had so long pleaded for a
national reformation of religion, should have abandoned that plea, at

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

467

the very time when Providence seemed to present the opportunity of
prosecuting it with some prospect of success. This is the great Volun¬
tary spot in our ecclesiastical horizon. Though the rigorous enforce¬
ment of the law of patronage was the immediate cause which drove the
first Seceders from the Established Church, yet they did not propose, by
their association, merely to obtain the redress of that evil ; — they asso¬
ciated together for the more liberal object of seeking a reformation of
religion in Britain and Ireland, agreeably to the word of God, the sub¬
ordinate standards of the church, and the national covenants. This
reformation they distinguished, in their Testimony and other public
deeds, into civil and ecclesiastical ; meaning by the former, the removal
of all laws in the state which are injurious to the true religion, and the
substitution of others which are calculated to advance the interests of
truth and righteousness. For a long time there was no prospect of their
obtaining this object, in consequence of an obstinate refusal on the
part of rulers to make any alteration on the existing constitution and
laws. Of late, however, a change of a very extensive kind has taken
place, which, though limited to political matters, involves a principle
equally applicable to matters which are materially and objectively
religious and ecclesiastical ; a change, too, which has given an oppor¬
tunity for the expression of public opinion, to a degree perhaps unex¬
ampled in this country, certainly not enjoyed since the Revolution.
Now here is the wonder, that at this very time, so favourable to the
object of their association, the great body of Seceders should have
avowedly abandoned the object which they had in view, and advanced
a principle which declares that the advancement of religious reforma¬
tion is an unfit object of national concern, and that all connection
between church and state, religion and politics, is unscriptural and
antichristian ; — in short, that they should have adopted that very prin¬
ciple which defeated the Reformation happily begun in Britain and
Ireland, at that period which they, in their public declarations, fixed
upon as a jjattern of imitation !

4. It is a wonder that a spirit of determined hostility against the
religious establishments of the country should have displayed itself, at
the very time when a revival of evangelical religion began to make its
appearance in them, and internal exertions were making to reform their
abuses. You will not understand me as insinuating that there are not
corruptions in our northern establishment which justify secession. But
it cannot be denied, and we should be glad to acknowledge, that favour¬
able symptoms have of late appeared of a revival in that church.
Though we have no reason to think that error has been banished from
the national church, yet, compared with former times within the
memory of some still alive, it may be said, that as ashamed it hides its
head. The Socinian heresy is no longer avowed ; and the cold, deaden¬
ing strain of legal preaching, once so general, has been banished from
many pulpits. That selfish system of religion, which would confine all

468

SEKMON XVIII.

concern to the salvation of the soul and personal godliness, and which
once was so prevalent among serious persons, has suffered a sensible
abatement, and together with it, the latitudinarian tenet, which repre¬
sents all contendings for discipline, and even modes of faith, as
unnecessary, if not hurtful. A spirit of concern for the public interests
of religion and the reformation of abuses in the church, has been
excited in quarters where it did not formerly exist. The attention of
Christians has been turned to those periods in the history of the church
in our land, in which the work of reformation was advanced to a high
pitch, and which furnish, in particular, the brightest examples of minis¬
terial diligence, faithfulness, and zeal. To speak with respect of our
national covenants is no longer an exclusive mark of a Seceder, and
even their obligation on our land is acknowledged by not a few, who
lately would have scouted, or at least stared, at the assertion.

Now it certainly appears strange that, in such circumstances, which
were calculated to propitiate the favour bf all the friends of religion,
and especially of Seceders, such hostility should have been manifested
towards all establishments, and that the efforts of its enemies to over-
tm’ii them should seem to keep pace with those of their friends to
render them more worthy of being supported. — But we will take a very
partial view of the subject, if we confine our attention to the motives of
the assailants. The great thing which should engage our thoughts, is
the language of Providence, and the displeasure which it is expressing
at the long continuance of a course of measures in the national church,
which has alienated the great body of the people, and induced them to
despair of ever seeing a thorough reformation of abuses which they
have been taught to consider as the necessary consequences of an
establishment.

5. It is a wonder that the late revival of evangelical doctrine should
have been followed and checked by enthusiastical extremes. On these
it is unnecessary that I should dwell ; but one of them is so closely
connected with the subject of our present discourse as to merit particular
notice.

A serious inquiry into the predictions of the Bible is inseparable
from the duty of searching the Scriptures, and forms part of that
homage which we owe to Him who, as a proof of his sole divinity,
describes himself as “ declaring the end from the beginning, and from
ancient times the things that are not yet done.” To trace the marks of
Divine wisdom and prescience in the exact correspondence between the
prediction and the event, in prophecies which have already received
their fulfilment, is a task at once pleasing and profitable. Nor are our
inquiries bound down precisely to fulfilled predictions. The Old Testa¬
ment prophets inquired and searched diligently into the time and
manner of time of which the Spirit which was in them did testify ; and
we learn from the example of Daniel, who understood by books the
period of Jerusalem’s desolation, that they were not restricted, in the

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

469

conclusions to which they came, to supernatural communications. But
inquiries into the future, even when conducted with the help of the
torch of prophecy, ought to be characterised by modesty and devout
sobriety. Here, it would seem, the common maxim applied to know¬
ledge, “ Drink deep, or taste not,” needs to be reversed. We should
always recollect,, that prophecy lifts off the veil which covers futurity
but partially ; or, to speak more correctly, it throws over those objects
which it reveals a veil which, while it prevents us from seeing them
clearly, admonishes us to check our curiosity by a believing and humble
patience.

The neglect of this rule has introduced into this department of study
a rashness and presumption, productive of great injury to the minds of
individuals, and to the cause of religion in general. By attempting to
fix the exact period at which certain predictions shall receive their
accomplishment, and by putting arbitrary and fanciful interpretations
on the language of prophecy, the Scriptures have been exposed to the
derision of infidels, the confidence of professing Christians in the cer-
tamty of the word of God has been shaken, and the minds of many
have been withdrawn from the great truths of the Gospel, and the
active discharge of the duties of their station. Almost all the extra¬
vagant opinions and practices of the present day may be traced to this
origin. Hence it is that some, from being interpreters of prophecy,
have set up for prophets themselves, or have encouraged others in the
delusive notion that they possessed the prophetic spirit, or other gifts
connected with it ; and hence it is that, notwithstanding the express
premonition of our Lord, “ The kingdom of God cometh not with
observation and, “ if any man shall say unto you, Lo, here is Christ !
or lo, there ! believe it not ” — the minds of not a few are directed to an
imaginary appearance and visible reign of the Son of man on earth, to
the exclusion of all due regard to his first coming, when he put away
sin by the sacrifice of himself, and his second coming at the end of the
world, without sin, unto the salvation of them that look for him.

6. We may only advert farther, on this head, to the wonder that the
friends of truth and reformation should be so divided in sentiment and
communion. Considering that these are so feeble in point of numbers,
and that the force of their public testimony depends so much on their
united exertions, it is truly surprising that so little of a spirit of enlight¬
ened and scriptural union should exist among them ; and that so
generally they should be on the watch to increase their own little
parties, by fishing in disturbed waters, and picking up treasures from
the wreck of ruined establishments.

II. I proceed now to consider the exercise and conduct which become
us in contemplating and inquiring into these wonders. Cold specula¬
tions about the mystery of Providence, how clear and correct soever
they may be, are as unprofitable, I should say pernicious, as when they

470

SERMON XVIII.

have for their object the mystery of redemption. In both cases, the
speculatist perishes like the philosopher "who was frozen to death while
making observations on the weather and the heavenly bodies within
the frigid zone. The men of Issachar are praised for their “ understand¬
ing of the times;” but it is added, “they knew what Israel ought to
do and what their hands found to do, they did it with all their might.

1. Our inquiries into the wonders of Providence in our time should
be conducted with holy adoration of the doings of God. This is a feel¬
ing which the student of Providence needs always to preserve and
cherish in his breast. He may expect to meet at every turn with
something which is strange and startling, and to him unaccountable.
“ 0 the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God !
How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out ! ”
It is peculiarly necessary to keep this feeling alive in the time of afflic¬
tion, personal or public. To justify God when he is measuring out
hard things to us — to entertain favourable thoughts of him — to cele¬
brate his holiness, righteousness, and sovereignty, when we are smart¬
ing under his rod — is no easy task. 0 ’tis difficult in such circumstances
(and that the best of his saints have found it) to avoid misconstmcting
his conduct, by drawing rash and hasty conclusions from it — to keep
from murmuring and repining, and charging God foolishly ; and still
more difficult is it to glorify him in the fires, and to say, “ He hath done
all things well !”

Yet this is our duty — our high duty ; and if we fail here, no part of
our exercise can be right — all is marred. Holy Jeremiah was deeply
sensible of this ; and, therefore, before pouring out his complaint to
God, and inquiring into the causes of the great anger which had gone
forth against the cities of Judah, he reminds himself of the divine recti¬
tude, and protests that nothing which he might utter in the agony of
grief, or in the ardour of expostulation, should be understood as insinu¬
ating the slightest reflection on that immaculate and bright attribute.
“ Righteous are thou, 0 Lord, when I plead with thee ; yet let me talk
with thee of thy judgments.”’ Of the same import are the words of
another prophet : “ Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and
canst not look on iniquity ; wherefore lookest thou upon them that
deal treacherously, and boldest thy tongue when the wicked devoureth
the man that is more righteous than he 1 ” And hence the enlight¬
ened conclusion to which he came (for it is when we are in the atti¬
tude of adoration that we see farthest into the mystery of Provi¬
dence) : “ Art thou not from everlasting, 0 Lord my God, mine
Holy One 1 We shall not die. 0 Lord, thou hast ordained them
for judgment ; and 0 mighty God, thou hast established them for
correction.” ^

To maintain this becoming frame of spirit, let us meditate on the
infinite distance between God and us — his majesty and our meanness,

1 Jer. xii. 1. 2 jjab. i. 12, 13.

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

471

liis sovereign propriety and our absolute dependence, bis uncontrollable
authority and our unconditional subjection, his wisdom and our ignor¬
ance, his purity and our vileness, the eternity of his plans and the
yesterday conception of ours. And let us call in to our aid the recollec¬
tion of his dealings with his church in former times, and the wonderful
manner in which he has made the darkest dispensations to produce the
happiest and most glorious results.

2. The contemplation of these wonders calls for deep humiliation.
No man will ever give glory to God by owning the righteousness of his
judgments, until he is brought to a due sense of his own sinfulness, and
humbled on account of it ; nor will the Holy One remove the tokens of
Ills displeasure from an individual or a people, so long as they remain
proud and impenitent. This is the ordinary rule of his procedure, as
solemnly announced from ancient times : “ If they shall confess their
iniquity, and the iniquity of their fathers, with their trespass which
they trespassed against me, and that also they have walked contrary
unto me ; and that I also have walked contrary unto them ; if their
uncircumcised hearts be humbled, and they then accept of the punish¬
ment of their iniquity ; then will I remember my covenant — and I will
remember the land.”^ This was the exercise to which they were
brought, when God turned again the captivity of Zion. In this way
was Daniel employed, when the commandment to rebuild Jerusalem
came forth. “ I set my face,” says he, “ unto the Lord my God, to
seek by i^rayer and supplication, with fasting and sackcloth and ashes,
and I prayed unto the Lord my God, and made my confession.” ^ Such
was the exercise to which the captives were brought collectively, as we
see in the fast which they proclaimed at the river AhaAm, “ to afflict
themselves before their God, and to seek of him a right way.” ® Such
was their exercise repeatedly after their return, when involved in trans¬
gression ; they solemnly confessed their sin, and renewed the covenant
of their fathers. In this manner was fulfilled the prediction : “ In
those days and at that time, saith the Lord, the children of Israel
shall come, they and the children of Judah together, going and weep¬
ing ; they shall ask the way to Zion with their faces thitherward, saying.
Come and let us join ourselves to the Lord in a perpetual covenant that
shall not be forgotten.” ^

And thus it was eminently in our OAvn land in times of reformation,
and particularly after seasons of defection. Those who are acquainted
with the history of our church, know that on these occasions her
breaches were repaired, and her lost privileges recovered, amidst deep
acknowledgments of sin, and the renewal of early-plighted but violated
vows. Our land exhibited the picture of a Bochim, before she put on
the appearance of a Hephzibah. The absence of this exercise on the
deliverance Avrought by God at the Revolution, was deplored by some
of the best friends of the Church of Scotland. To this neglect of duty,

1 Lev. xxvi. 40 — 42. “ Dau. lx. 3—8, 13, 14. * Ezra, viii. 21 4 Jer. 1. 4.

472

SERMON XVIII,

among other things, we must trace those evils which have wasted that
church for a long century ; and it were little less than belying God’s
word to expect that we shall escape from these, so long as we remain
unhumbled. The Lord of hosts is calling to weeping and mourning and
fasting ; but behold, joy and gladness, eating flesh and drinking wine.

There is nothing more offensive to the Holy One than pride and
self-confidence ; and yet how generally do these prevail ! The Secession
Church has waxed vain of its numbers, and engaged in an attempt
which is calculated to rob the King of kings of the homage due to him
from the nations of the world, and to injure the best interests of society
both civil and religious. On the other hand, the Established Church
seems little less disposed to boast of her numbers, her endowments,
her legal securities, and her exclusive possession of royal countenance.
The latter charges the former with entering into an unholy alliance with
infidels, heretics, and profane persons, for overthrowing establishments ;
the former retorts that the latter retains persons of such characters
within her pale. I enter not into an examination of the justice of these
mutual criminations ; but I say, that between them there is an almost
total want of that spirit which our conduct and our circumstances
equally demand ; and that a proud and haughty tone to our fellow-
creature covers a spirit of rebellion against the Almighty.

All parties and denominations have great reason for humbling them¬
selves under the mighty hand of God, and deprecating his just and
heavy displeasure. Those who may retain a profession and communion
in some due degree of conformity to Scripture, have ground to mourn
over their departure from first love, in the want of that spirit which
animates, and that deportment which adorns, a confession of the name
of Christ. “ Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou
hast left thy first love. Eemember, therefore, from whence thou art
fallen ■, and repent, and do the first works.”

3. These wonders ought to be contemplated and inquired into in the
exercise of fervent prayer. This is the language of the text, for every
question put to God is a prayer. “ 0 my Lord, what shall be the end
of these things 1 ” Daniel meant to pray that God would preserve lus
people under the oppression which they were suffering, that he would
keep them from fainting and apostatising, that he would refine them in
the furnace, hasten the day of deliverance, and shorten the day of
calamity for the elect’s sake. And these things ought to form the matter
of our prayers. It has been observed that when God intends any
deliverance to his church, or revival of the interests of religion, he
excites his saints to pray for this mercy ; and the remark is justified by
sacred history. The experience of the holy man in our text may stand
for that of a thousand. How fervently was he employed in prayer
about the time when the restoration of the captivity took place ! “ i^d
whiles I was speaking,” he says, “ and praying and confessing my sin,
and the sin of my people Israel, and presenting my supplication before

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

473

the Lord my God for the holy mountain of my God ; yea, wlnle I was
speaking in prayer, even the man Gabriel, whom I had seen in the
vision at the beginning, being caused to fly swiftly, touched me about
the time of the evening oblation. And he informed me, and talked
with me, and said, 0 Daniel, I am now come forth to give thee skill
and understanding. At the beginning of thy supplications, the com¬
mandment came forth, and I am come to show thee.”^ Let us all
imitate the example of this greatly-beloved saint. “ For Zion’s sake
will I not hold my peace, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest.
Ye that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and give him
no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the
earth.”

4. Let us contemplate these wonders with firm faith in the preserva¬
tion of the interests of religion, and the deliverance of the church.
Prayer, unless it be believing, will not be prevalent. We must honour
the power and faithfulness of God ; and what is prayer but the plead¬
ing of his promises ? “Do as thou hast said.” Hence the language of
David : “For thou, 0 Lord of hosts, God of Israel, hast revealed to thy
servant, saying, I will build thee an house : therefore hath thy servant
found in his heart to pray this prayer to thee. And now, 0 Lord God,
thou art that God, and thy words be true, and thou hast promised this
goodness to thy servant. Therefore now let it please thee to bless the
house of thy servant.”^ But we will plead the promises coldly and
formally if we do not believe them. We should view them as made,
not only to the church, but to her divine Head ; and though we have
no ground to assure ourselves absolutely that God will preserve any
particular church, yet his promises secure the preservation, purification,
enlargement, and perpetuity of the kingdom of his Son. And with
faith, let us join the twin grace of patience by which it is supported ;
“ for the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall
speak and not lie : though it tarry, wait for it ; because it will surely
come, it will not tarry.”

In conclusion, let me exhort all present to seek preparation for com¬
ing calamities and trials, whether of a private or public kind. Let none
trust in an empty profession of religion, or in the mere possession of
religious privileges. This was the great error of the ancient people of
God, and we often find the prophets warning them against “ trusting
in lying words, and saying. The temple of the Lord, the temple of the
Lord, the temple of the Lord, are these.”® Seek a saving acquaintance
with God, and a saving interest in his covenant. “ Acquaint thyself
now with God, and be at peace with him ; thereby good shall come
unto thee.” “ Because I wiU do this unto thee, prepare to meet thy
God, 0 Israel.”

Let believers give all diligence to be found of Christ in peace at his
coming. “ Ye, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith,

1 Dan. ix. 20 — 23. 2 2 Sam. vii. 27 — 29. ^ Jer. vii. 4.

2 I

474

SERMON XVIII,

praying in the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking
for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.”

The members of this congregation I would exhort to seek establish¬
ment in the present truth. After long examination, I am fully con¬
vinced that, by the good hand of God, you have been led, in respect of
profession and communion, to take up your ground in the safe medium
between the conflicting parties in the great controversy of the day,
while you continue to testify against the corruptions of the churches
established by law in our native land, and at the same time keep aloof
from those who condemn all recognition of Christianity by public
authority, and seek to withdraw the provision which has been made by
the nation for religious purposes. I cannot flatter you with the prospect
of the speedy removal of those defects in the national settlement of reli¬
gion, or those practical abuses in ecclesiastical administration, which the
body we are connected with have so long condemned, and which have ex¬
cluded us from fellowship with the National Church in Scotland. I am
sorry I cannot join with those who would give the name of reforming to
the General Assembly, whose meeting is now drawing to a close. One
party which has long had the management in the judicatories, and has
ruled with sutticient rigour (I mean not against error or vice), has been
defeated : how their successors will act remains still to be determined.
In the mean time, their proceedings hitherto have not laid a foundation
for sanguine hopes. One thing they have done which must meet our
approbation, in removing that glaring anomaly on the Presbyterian con¬
stitution, chapels of ease. But an overture, involving a charge of error
on a capital article of our religion, justiflcation by faith, has been dis¬
missed simply on the declaration of the accused individual, that he was
perfectly sound on that head. The decision on Calls, so much applauded
by many, together with its strange but not unsuitable accompaniments,
I can look upon in no other light but as an attempt to gull the people
with a show of privilege, while it subjects them to be fettered, at every
step, in the exercise of it, and involves them in the inextricable meshes
of legal chicanery. And this boon is presented to them by the hands
of those who have scornfully thrown out and rejected their petitions for
relief from a grievance of which the Church of Scotland has always
complained •, and this at a time when the legislature, by which the
yoke was imposed, had so far listened to similar petitions from the
people, as to appoint a committee to inquire into the grounds of com¬
plaint, and to put the country to no small expense in conducting the
investigation. I say it is more than suspicious that the alleged boon
should be presented by the hands of those who have summarily and
haughtily thrown out the petitions of the Christian people against
patronage. They say they have muzzled the monster : it is a mistake ;
they have only muffled him, and they have muzzled the people.

It gives me great pain to say these things, and I say them, not in
anger, but in grief and in love. Nothing on earth would give more joy

THE ASPECT OF THE TIMES.

475

to my heart, than to see sure and decided symptoms of reformation in
the National Church of Scotland — to see the Zion of God in our land
rising from the dust and shaking herself, putting on her beautiful gar¬
ments, and looking forth, as in the morning of her day, “ fair as the moon,
clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners,” to the confusion
of those who would have quenched her light, and plucked her from
that firmament in which she once shone with surpassing brightness.
I would go seven times to the top of her highest mountain, to look out
for the harbinger of her relief, though each time I should have to re¬
turn with the message, “ There is nothing,” provided at last I could
hail the appearance of “ the little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s
hand,” the sure prelude of the plentiful rain, which shall refresh the
weary inheritance, make her wilderness as Eden, and her desert as the
garden of the Lord.

Do not despair, neither be discouraged, my brethren. There is
abundance in the promise. Wait in faith and patience and prayer for
its accomplishment. God hath done great things for Scotland ; and he
hath not suffered them to be forgotten. He hath reserved for himself
a remnant, both in the Estabhshed Church and out of it, who think
with gratitude and praise of his wonderful works. This is a token for
good. And when he hath tried and humbled them, and led them to
the exercise of prayer and confession,^ — “Then will the Lord be jealous
for his land, and pity his people.”

476

SERMON XIX.^

GRIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

“ Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because they kee^ not thy law.” —

Psalm cxix. 136.

It is no rare spectacle to see a person in tears. Man is the heir of
trouble, the child of sorrow, which assails him in a thousand forms. If
exempt for any time from suffering in his own person. Ids sympathies
are continually called forth by the afflictions of others to whom he is
linked by the bond of a common nature, and by the more tender ties of
kindred and friendship. How often do we see the “face foul with
weeping ” for the loss of a parent, a brother, a child, or a husband ; and
scarcely has the mourner washed himself and dried up his tears, when
some new calamity causes them to flow afresh ! The inquiry which we
are ready to make on such occasions. What ails thee 1 Why weepest
thou ? does not express our surprise at the sight, but our desire, whether
dictated by curiosity or benevolence, to ascertain the cause of the
distress.

But, my brethren, the text presents us with a spectacle which is rare
indeed, and which, though far from unreasonable, is calculated to excite
very general surprise — a man whose heart was pierced, and from whose
eyes the tears streamed, not on account of any bodily pain, or domestic
trial, or worldly loss, but on account of the violations of God’s law
which he witnessed around him. David had met with heavy calamities
of a temporal kind, and on these occasions we behold the keen sensi-
. bilities of the man blended with the confidence and submission of the
saint. When persecuted by Saul as a traitor, when forced to flee from
his capital by the unnatural rebellion of Absalom, or when informed of
the unhappy death of that undutiful but beloved son, we can account for
his grief on common principles. But when he composed this lengthened
and beautiful piece of devotion, which expresses throughout the calm
but intense breathings of delight in the law or revealed will of God, felt
and cherished in the hours dedicated to uninterrupted and fixed medi¬
tation, — he appears to have been free from all the ordinary causes of
distress and sorrow. The afflictions which he had suffered were recol-

1 Preached on the occasion of a Synodical Fast, Feb. 1828.

GRIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

477

lected by him only as affording grounds of thanksgiving on account of
the spiritual benefit he had derived from them. The attempts of his
enemies, and the bitter scorn with which they had assailed him, were
thought of only to enhance liis esteem for those statutes, the study of
which had made their envenomed darts to faU harmless at his side.
Yet while enjoying that “ peace which passeth all understanding,” and
which is the blessed portion of those who love God’s law, there was one
thing which pained him, which was an alloy to his happiness, which we
find him repeatedly lamenting in the course of the psalm, and wliich
occasioned him more poignant grief than all the personal and domestic
trials under which his heart had formerly bled. His righteous soul was
vexed from day to day by the frequent, open, bold, and persevering
transgressions which he saw and heard of “ I beheld transgressors,
and was grieved.” “ Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, because
they keep not thy law.”

Grief for sin is one of those charities of the heart whose operation
begins at home. He who has never seen his own sin, who has not been
grieved for it, and wept over it, cannot feel grief for that of others.
There is sympathy implied in sorrowing for the sins of others ; and we
cannot feel deeply for those distresses to which we are utter strangers
in our own persons. Without this personal experience, we may weep,
but will not grieve ; and our tears will, at the very best, be theatrical
and professional. Nay, they will pass for gross hypocrisy with Him who
sees the heart. There is great danger of self-deception here. We are
apt to flatter ourselves that we hate sin, when we condemn or bewail it
in the conduct of others, while, in reality, we are only indulging a
splenetic, censorious, or fretful disposition. Self-love, too, conceals from
^s the guilt or turpitude cleaving to our actions, which we clearly see
in the same or similar actions done by others. When David heard the
story of the poor man and his ewe-lamb, he could not repress the senti¬
ments of indignation which rose in his breast against the hard-hearted
oppressor ; but what an appalling discovery was made to him when the
prophet said, “ Thou art the man ! ” The spoiler of the poor man was
forgotten, and his deed, base as it was, swallowed up and lost in that
of the ravisher of Bathsheba and the murderer of Uriah. “ I have
sinned.” He felt as if there had not been another sinner in the world.
The sacrifice of a broken spirit is pleasing to God ; but it must be
offered, like those of the priests under the law, “ first for our own sins,
and then for the people’s.” ^

But this gracious principle, while it begins at home, must not end
there. It must be liberal and diffusive ; and its diffusiveness is one
mark, and no small or accidental one, of its genuineness. The exercise
described in our text was not peculiar to David. We find it displayed
in the recorded experience of the most distinguished saints in Scripture.

1 Heb. vii. 27.

478

SERMON XIX.

Of Lot we are told that he was “ vexed with the filthy conversation of
the wicked ; for that righteous man dwelling among them, in seeing
and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlaw¬
ful deeds.” 1 Isaiah exclaims, “ Woe is me ! for I am undone ; because
I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of un¬
clean lips.”^ Jeremiah has been called the weeping prophet, because
his writings were bedewed with tears, produced, not merely by “ the
destruction of the daughter of his people,” but by the wickedness and
rebellion which brought it upon her. “ Mine eye,” saith he, “ runneth
down with rivers of water — mine eye trickleth down, and ceaseth not,
without any intermission.” ® We see the same spirit manifested by Paul,
and by one greater than them all — the “ Man of Sorrows,” who showed
his acquaintance with this as well as other causes of grief, by weeping
over the unbelief, the obduracy, and the wickedness of men.

If we mourn for sin truly, it will excite our grief wheresoever and
by whomsoever it is committed. But, like all our sympathies, it will
be excited more powerfully by the sins of those with whom we are
more intimately connected, and by such of them as come more immedi¬
ately within the sphere of our own observation. We are to mourn more
especially, though not exclusively, for the sins of our own land, of the
city in which we dwell, of the church with which we are in immediate
fellowship, of the congregation of which we are members, and of our
own families.

Having made these general reflections, let us now, in ihe first place,
trace these rivers of grief to their springs ; and in the second place,
specify some of the leading qualities of this grief.

I. Let us trace these rivers of grief to their springs.

1. Grief for the sins of men springs from love to God. Every saint
feels a lively interest in the honour of God, arising from the knowledge
which he has of his infinite excellence, the experience which he has had
of his boundless goodness, and the supreme delight which he takes in
him as his all-sufficient and everlasting portion. Sin is a violation of
the authority of God, and an offence to the essential purity of his nature.
It insults his majesty, and reflects dishonour (so far as a created act can
do) upon all his attributes. How strong and impressive is the language
which God in condescension employs when speaking of the conduct of
sinners in reference to himself. They make him a liar, deny him, re¬
proach him, lift up the heel against him ; he is limited by them, made
to serve, robbed, wearied, tempted, provoked, vexed, grieved, broken,
pressed under them as a cart is pressed under sheaves. Now all the
saints feel as he feels. They feel as(^a dutiful subject, servant, child, or
wife feels, when a gracious prince, kind master, liberal benefactor, indul¬
gent parent, or affectionate husband, is dishonoured or ungratefully
used. Every letter of his name, every work of his hand, every word of

1 2 Pet. ii. 7. 2jsa. vi. 5. s Lam. iii. 4S, 49.

GRIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

479

his mouth, every precept or institution on which he has stamped his
authority, every lineament of his image which can he traced on any of
the meanest of his creatures, they respect ; and cannot bear to see any
injury done to it, or even dishonour breathed upon it. How then can
they be but grieved — is it any wonder that rivers of waters run
down their eyes, when his name is profaned, his works contemned,
his word denied, his precepts trampled on, Ms image disfigured and
derided ?

2. It springs from love to the law of God. Consider, my brethren,
where the text lies — in the heart, in the very bosom of the most fervent
breathings of delight for that law which sinners “keep not.” It is
bedded in a channel of pearls. What variety, what fulness of appropri¬
ate language, does the Psalmist employ in this sacred ode, to express
his esteem for the revealed will of God, without any mixture of that
vain repetition or straining, which is to be seen in formal and studied
encomium! The law of thy mouth — the word of thy lips — thy com¬
mandments — thy precepts — thy testimonies — thy statutes — thy judg¬
ments. They are true, faithful, righteous, wonderful, everlasting. God’s
law had quickened him — made him wiser than all his teachers — com¬
forted him in all his affliction — was his counseller in critical cases. He
cannot utter his love for it — he loved it exceedingly — he asks God to
consider how he loved it — it was his delight — sweeter than honey to his
mouth — better than thousands of gold and silver — it was his meditation
aU the day — he kept it, and made haste to keep it — he had sworn and
he would perform it — he hid it in his heart — he rejoiced in it as those
that find great spoil — he inclined his heart to it — he stuck to it — he
opened his mouth and panted, his eyes failed, and he fainted in looking
for it. And as if he had exhausted speech in its praise, he exclaims,
hopeless of doing it or his own feelings justice, “ I have seen an end of
al] perfection ; but thy commandment is exceeding broad ! ”

What is the reason, brethren, that we do not feel that deep grief for
sin which the Psalmist evinced 1 It is because we have not the intense
love which he felt for that law, of which every sin is a transgression.
And why should we not ? Its limits surely have not been contracted —
it has lost none of its excellences or recommendations. There is one
consideration (not to mention others) which ought to increase our re¬
spect for the law, and consequently our grief for sin. Christians must
reckon every sin as a violation of that law which the Son of God hath
magnified, and made honourable, and vindicated by his obedience in our
nature and in our stead. And God, by the agony and death of his Son,
has stamped sin with the broad and burning brand of his hatred.
O harder than the adamant must that heart be, which weeps not for
that which brought the sweat as great drops of blood from the body of
our Redeemer, and made his soul sorrowful even unto death !

3. It springs from love to the sinner. Love to God produces love to
our brethren, — and this affection is expressly enjoined by the law

480

SERMON XIX.

which is so much esteemed by every genuine saint. None knows
better than he the sad and awful consequences of sin. Having escaped
them himself, he is anxious to save others ; and when all advices and
remonstrances fail, and sinners will not hear nor consider to give glory
to God, what can he do but, like the prophet, “ weep in secret places for
their pride ” and impenitency 1 “ One sinner destroyeth much good ; ”
and when we see the law broken in any instance, we cannot calculate to
how many sins this will lead in the same individual, or in others over
whom he has influence, or to whom his example may extend. While
the Christian hates the sin, he loves the person of the sinner ; and the
more he loves the latter, the more must he loathe and mourn over the
former. This aflbrds an illustration of the Psalmist’s language : “ Do
not I hate them, 0 Lord, that hate thee ? and am not I grieved with
those that rise up against thee 1 ”

4. There are personal feelings which stir this grief, and enter into its
composition. When we see a person in distress, it frequently reminds
us that we were once afflicted in the same or a similar way — a recollec¬
tion which strengthens our sympathy, if it is not the spring from which
it directly flows. In like manner the saint is made to recollect his
former sins, and his grief for them mingles with that which he feels for
the present sins of others. In how many ways, too, unperceived by us,
may we not have contributed by our untenderness, or the careless per¬
formance of our duties, to lead astray or to harden others ! Judah was
forced to say, on fuller information, respecting his daughter-in-law whom
he had condemned to be burned, “ She hath been more righteous than
I.” ^ And how painful must have been the recollections of David on
the misconduct of his sons ! National guilt, which brings down tem¬
poral calamities on a people, is the aggregate to which each has contri¬
buted his share. Though the son shall not bear the iniquity of the
father, but every one shall be dealt with ultimately for his own trans¬
gressions ; yet the sins which we see committed around us are the sins
of our common nature, which, by the very laws of humanity, we are
called to deplore. The words of the heathen poet may be adopted fitly
on such occasions, and in this application, by the Christian, “ I am a
man ; and I reckon nothing that belongs to mankind foreign to me.”
They are the fruits of the sin of our first father and representative,
which is imputed justly tons all. They proceed from that depravity of
nature which is common to all, and wliich might have discovered itself
in us, by tlie same gross scandals and crimes which we observe in others,
if this had not been prevented by converting grace, or providential re¬
straints. It is told of a good man, who had a deep insight into the de¬
pravity of his heart, which had been cured by the regenerating grace of
God, that he never saw a criminal going to the scafibld without saying,
There goes such a one — pronouncing his own name.

1 Gen. xxxviii. 26.

GRIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN,

481

II. I now proceed to mention the leading qualities of this grief.

1. It is genuine. There may be, and often is, an affected and hypo¬
critical expression of sorrow for prevailing sins, and there may be false
and lying tears, as well as words, before God. Such were those which
we may suppose the Jews to have shed, when, on visiting the tombs
of the righteous which they had built from a pretended zeal, they
exclaimed, “ If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not
have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets.”^ And
such are the wailings over public sins by those who indulge in prac¬
tices, less gross it may be, but equally repugnant to the law of God.
But the feeling described in our text was preceded, as we saw, by
profound grief for personal sin, and is uniformly associated with a
recollection of the sins which the mourner has himself committed.

Its genuineness is evinced by its impartiality. The sincere mourner
is grieved for the sins of friends as well as of enemies,- — of those of his
own religious connection, as well as those of other denominations, — for
the sins of his own family, as well as those of his neighbours ; nay, he
is more sensibly affected with the dishonours done to God by those who
are most intimately connected with him — “ the provoking of sons and
daughters.” He is grieved for all sin. The ears of every sober person
are shocked at hearing the hellish imprecations uttered by some profane
men ; but he is affected by hearing the name of God taken, or minced,
in vain. Few that have any respect to religion but would have their
feelings hurt if they saw the theatres thrown open, and men flocking to
places of public entertainment or business, on the Lord’s day (although
this is done in some countries called Christian) ; but he is distressed
to know that this holy day is so generally spent in idleness, in private
dissipation and parties of pleasure, in unnecessary visiting, or in vain,
worldly, and irreligious company and conversation.

The genuineness of these tears is evinced by the ease with which
they flow. Take a person of tender feelings to a scene of distress, and
the tear will instantly start to his eye on beholding it. Tell a benevo¬
lent man of a worthy family involved at once in sickness and destitu¬
tion, and you need not to give him a minute description of the dis¬
tressing scene which harrowed up your feelings on visiting it, to dispose
him to contribute for its relief. The mere sight of sin draws forth the
sorrow of a godly man. “ I beheld transgressors, and was grieved.”
It was an ancient custom to employ minstrels and hired mourners on
occasions of domestic calamity, with the view of increasing the sorrow
of those who assembled, and thus doing more honour to the dead. The
saint has no need of such theatrical stimulants ; “ his eye affecteth his
heart.” 2

In fine, his tears flow more freely in secret ; he goes to his closet,
and on his knees he weeps and makes supplication before his heavenly

1 Mat. xxiii. 30. 2 Lam. iii. 51.

482

SERMON XIX.

Father. It was to God that the Psalmist was speaking in the text ;
and every true mourner can join with him in his appeal, “Do not I
hate them, 0 Lord, that hate thee ? and am not I grieved with those
that rise up against thee

2. This grief is generous and seemly. There is a godly sorrow for
the evils of this life ; but soitow for worldly distresses is no proper
mark of godliness. The observation applies so far to sorrow for sin.
If we grieve and weep merely for our own sins, there may be ground
to suspect that we are actuated by a selfish principle, — that we are
merely afraid of the punishment to which they expose us : but when
we are grieved for the sins of others, after our own have been par¬
doned and blotted out, this shows that we feel the dishonour done
to God, and are touched with compassion for the souls of others.

It is accordingly a feeling of which no person needs to be ashamed.
To be overwhelmed with affliction — to burst into tears at every unto¬
ward or distressing occurrence — to indulge in immoderate grief even on
occasion of great trials, is weak and childish. But it is not unseemly
to weep for sin— for any sin, and it is not easy to be excessive in this
expression of sorrow. Such tears become Christian men — men of stature
and valour ; for, as one has expressed it, “ it is the truest magnanimity
to be sensible on the point of God’s honour, which is injured by sin.”
David was reproved by his commander-in-chief for mourning immoder¬
ately and indecently for Absalom ; but he had no reason to be ashamed
when “rivers of waters ran down his eyes, because they kept not
God’s law.” And had this degraded him in their eyes, he might have
replied, as on another occasion, “ I will be yet more vile than thus, and
will be base in mine own sight.” ^

3. This grief varies, especially in its expression, in different persons,
and in the same person at different times. This is common to it with
other gracious dispositions in the hearts of men who are but par¬
tially sanctified, and whose exercise, in this their sublunary state, resem¬
bles the tide which ebbs and flows according to the varying influence
of the moon.

Sometimes their eyes are dry, at other times the tears may be seen
standing in them ; now they trickle down the cheek, and again they
run like a stream. Sometimes their hearts are altogether unaffected,
and they have no tears to shed for sin, and, what is worse, no desire to
shed them ; at other times, they could wish that “ their head were waters,
and their eyes a fountain of tears,” and that they had a lodge in the
wilderness where they might weep day and night for the guilt of their
people, and the judgments it has provoked. Sometimes the transition
from insensibility to melting of heart may be very sudden, and effected
by a very slight instrumentality. He who has the key of the well that
is in the heart can open it by a touch — a word — a look. An instance
of the species of sorrow exemplified in the text occurs in the Epistle

1 Ps. cxxxix. 21. '■! 2 Sam. vi. 22.

GRIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

483

to the Philippians. The apostle had been exhorting his brethren to
“rejoice in the Lord,” and he had been giving them an example of it in
his own exercise, in that most charming passage, beginning, “Yea,
doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the
knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord.” But while pursuing this pleas¬
ing strain, the Spirit brought to his remembrance some instances of
professors, who had joined with him in speaking the same language,
but had been left foully to contradict it ; and he all at once changes his
voice : “ Many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you
even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ.” ^ And
it was some time before he recovered himself, so far as to intimate to
them that he did not mean to retract what he had given them as
his final exhortation : “ Rejoice in the Lord alway ; and again I say,
Rejoice.”^

A difference may be expected in the exercise of the saints, at least as
to degree, in the manifestation of sorrow for sin. Some are more
eminent for one grace, and others for another ; as Moses for meekness,
and Job for patience; Elijah for zeal against sin, and Jeremiah for
grief on account of it. The same affection, therefore, may often be dis¬
covered, according to the character of the individual, in the different
forms of indignant reprehension, mild expostulation, or tearful com¬
plaint. The natural temperament is also to be considered. The con¬
stitution of some men denies them tears ; and grace does not in this
world change the bodily temperament. Deep waters make little noise,
and are scarcely seen to roll or to move. Sometimes the sorrow is too
big for utterance ; and tears, when they come, bring relief. Even the
situation of the person is to be taken into account. Abraham was
called to walk with God in faith and obedience ; while Lot, having
chosen his residence in a city notorious for its wicked practices, had his
righteous soul vexed from day to day.

4. This grief is habitual. Though it may vary, as the object of it is
presented or withdrawn, or as the attention is called off to other and
necessary duties, and “ there is a time to weep, and a time to refrain
from w^eeping”^ — yet it is not a transient emotion, but an abiding exer¬
cise. David in the text does not say Rivers ran, but rim. Paul could
call God to witness that he “ had great sorrow and continual heaviness
in his heart,”® for his unbelie’\dng and impenitent countrymen. As
long as Christians are in this world, they will have reason for this feel¬
ing ; although it may be more strongly excited on some occasions than
on others. The idolatrous connections which were formed by Esau
“were a grief of mind unto Isaac and Rebekah;”^ and at a later
period of their lives, the latter gave expression to what must often have
been the experience of the saints, when she said, “I am weary of
my life because of the daughters of Heth.”® “Woe is me,” cries the

^ Phil. iii. 18. 2 Phil. iv. 4. ^ Rom. ix. 2.

I Gen. xxvi. 35. 5 Gen. xxvii. 4G.

484

SERMON XIX,

Psalmist, “that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of
Kedar ! My soul hath long dwelt with him that hateth peace.” ^ But
offences must come, scandals will be occurring from time to time in
the church ; and unless the Christian go out of the world, he can¬
not avoid coming in contact with persons whose conduct will stir
up his grief, and keep these “ rivers of waters ” from remaining
stagnant.

In fine, this grief in influential and profitable. It may be useful to
others ; it will be useful to ourselves. “ By the sadness of the coun¬
tenance the heart is made better.” It will increase our love to the law
of God, on the principle which leads us to take an interest in the per¬
son whom we have sympathised with under distress or injurious treat¬
ment. It will enhance our compassion towards the sinner, by leading
us to contemplate the misery to which he is exposed, to pray for him
with greater fervency, and use every means for his relief. Sin is
hateful, and the person who has rolled himself in it is odious in the
sight of God and of all good men. But our indignation against sin is
apt to become a passion (which it never is in God) — it is apt to be
influenced, if not kindled, by the strange fire of our own corruptions,
and to be directed against the person of the offender instead of his sin,
to alienate us from him instead of exciting us to seek his salvation,
and to dispose us to blaze abroad instead of “ covering the multitude of
his sins.” Now our grief for sin will check our indignation against it,
and its waters will reduce and cool down our feelings (if I may so
express it) to the proper Christian temperature. In such cases, it is
always dangerous when our anger is more intense than our grief.
Jacob’s sons, when they heard of the folly wrought in Israel by the
dishonour of their sister, were grieved and very wroth : and this excess
of indignation finally precipitated them into an act which not only
brought on the name of Israel a deeper stain than that which they
sought to wipe off, but extorted from him these bitter words on his
death-bed : “ Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce ; and their wrath,
for it was cruel.” ^ We never more need to “put away all wrath and
bitterness and clamour and evil speaking,” and to be “ tender-hearted,”
than when we are reproving sinners, or using means to recover those
who are led captive of the devil. Had Jonah been more grieved for
the wickedness which led to his denunciation against the inhabitants
of Nineveh, he would not have been angry at their repentance and
reprieve.

True grief for sin may also be expected to have a good effect on the
sinners themselves. Surely if anything will awaken a person to a con¬
sideration of his ways, it would be the clear conviction that he was
giving the most acute distress of mind to a godly minister, parent,
brother, friend, or neighbour. If any advice or remonstrance can have
effect, it would be that conveyed in the accents of tender sympathy and

1 Ps. CX.X. 5, 6. * Gen. xlix. 7.

GEIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

485

unaffected sorrow. This would oil, not feather, the arrow of reproof.
If it was a Christian brother who was thus dealt with, surely he would
be gained, and made to say, “ Always smite me thus, for it is a kind¬
ness ; reprove me thus, for it is an excellent oil, which shall not break
mine head.” If, provided we had a call and opportunity in Providence,
we were to rise from our knees, and with hearts melted with grief for
his sin, to go to him and say, “ I am distressed for thee, my brother ;
my bowels are moved within me, my repentings are kindled. You see
before you a fellow-offender, one who has sinned in the same manner as
thou hast done, and whose sin has this day been brought to remem¬
brance by thinking upon thine — If we were to act in this manner,
have we not some ground to expect that, by the blessing of God, it
might be the means of calling forth a kindred feeling in his breast, and
might we not hope to see realised, in a much higher sense, the pathetic
scene described by the poet, when an aged king went to beg the body
of his son, and succeeded in touching and melting into pity the
stout heart of the murderer, by reminding him that he also had a
father P

But, above all, genuine grief for sin has an influence with God him¬
self, and has often been the means of averting his displeasure, not only
from the individual himself, but from those over whom he mourns.
Wlien God was about to inflict a signal punishment on the inhabitants
of Jerusalem, he issued a special order to spare those who were engaged
in this exercise. “ Go through the midst of the city, and set a mark
upon the foreheads of the men that sigh, and that cry for all the abo¬
minations that be done in the midst thereof.”^ Whole nations may
have been indebted for their preservation from ruin, to the seasonable
flowing of these “ rivers of waters ” from the eyes of a few genuine
mourners in Zion, who, obscure and despised as they may have been,
must be ranked, on this account, as the truest patriots, and the best
benefactors of their country. “ Ungodly men,” says a pious writer,®
“ though they meddle not with public affairs, or should they be faithful
and honourable in meddling — yet by their impious lives they are traitors
to the nation — the incendiaries of states and kingdoms. Godly men,
though they can do no more than mourn for the sins of the nation, are
the most loyal and serviceable subjects, bringing tears to quench the Are
of wrath kindled by sin.”

“ Let these sayings sink down into your ears.” Let us all be deeply
humbled in the sight of God. Let “the land mourn, every family
apart.” ^ “Let every man be covered with sackcloth, and cry mightily
unto God : yea, let them turn every one from his evil way, and from
the violence that is in their hands. Who can tell if God will turn and
repent, and turn away from his fierce anger, that we perish not P’®

1 “ Now each by turns indulged the gush of woe,

And now the mingled tides together flow.”

2 Ezek. ix. 4. ® Archbishop Leighton. * Zech. xii. 12. ^ Jonah, iii. 8.

486

SERMON XIX.

Let me close this subject with a few reflections.

1, How rare is this exercise, even among professing Christians ! To
the greater part of the world it is wholly unknown. As the men of the
world are strangers to the joy peculiar to a godly man, so they cannot
enter into the grounds of his sadness. How can it be expected, when
they never saw the criminality or turpitude of sin, which, to their viti¬
ated taste, instead of being “ an evil and bitter thing,” is “ a sweet mor¬
sel,” which they “roll under their tongue 1” With them, the mourner
for sin is either a hypocrite or an enthusiast — he either acts a part
by affecting a sorrow which he does not feel, or he foolishly mars his
own happiness by brooding over the representations of a gloomy ima¬
gination, and indulging the qualms of a sickly and distempered con¬
science. Thus it has been in every age. Thus it was with David, or
rather a greater than David, who had to say, “Wlien I wept and
chastened my soul with fasting, that was to my reproach. I made
sackcloth also my garment ; and I became a proverb unto them. They
that sit in the gate speak against me ; and I was the song of the
diimkards.” ^ This, though it stirs instead of abating their inward
grief, induces them to restrain the expression of it in public, and to
seek for secret places in which they may give it vent without provok¬
ing the reproaches and insolent contempt of them that are at ease in
Zion. As in the context of the words I was quoting : “ But as for me,
my prayer is unto thee.”

That those who never felt any love to God or his law should look
strangely on the person who mourns and is in bitterness for it, is not
to be wondered at. But there is a fact wliich comes nearer to us, and
which may justly excite both surprise and alarm. How rare is the
exercise of the Psalmist among those who profess godliness ! Among
those who have separated from the world lying in wickedness, and who
testify against and condemn the abominations done in the midst of the
land ! How far short in this respect do those come whom we are bound
in charity to look upon as Christians indeed ! 0 ’tis a rare thing to
see a person weep for sin — but it is a rarer, much rarer thing, to see one
weeping and grieved for the sins of others ! Where, oh where, are those
adown whose cheeks the tears of sorrow for sin flow ? whose sore runs
in the night, and whom neither bodily health, nor domestic enjoyments,
no, nor the assurance of personal salvation, will comfort, while they see
God’s law broken, and his name every day blasphemed 1 God knows
where they are : — they are his hidden ones, like the seven thousand in
Israel, who were unknown to Elijah, and like the mourners in Jeru¬
salem, who could be discovered, not by Ezekiel, but by “the man
clothed in linen, with the writer’s ink-horn by his side.”^ We have
often read the words of the text, they are familiar to our ears, we
acquiesce in them as a just description of the exercise of a saint. But
what experience have we of the exercise which they describe, or, allow-

1 Ps. Ixix. 10—12. 2 Ezek. ix. 2.

(

GKIEF FOR THE SINS OF MEN.

487

ing tliem to be figurative, of the inward sentiment of which they are
the natural sign 1 It is said that God puts the tears of his children
into “his bottle.” i Ah ! my brethren, if the tears which we have shed
for worldly trials were separated and set aside, and if those which we
have shed under awakenings and compunctious visitings for our own
transgressions were also separated and set aside, what would the residue
be ? The smallest phial in the apothecary’s shop would more than sufiice
to hold it. It will be so far a favourable symptom, if we are convinced
of our mournful failure in this matter, and grieved for the hardness of
our hearts.

2. How much need is there for the renewing and softening influences
of the divine Spirit ! The exercise described in the text supposes, in
relation to sin, a discerning eye, a tender conscience, and a full heart.
But the heart of man by nature is, in regard to spiritual things, blind,
insensible, and unfeeling. Even those who possess great natural sensi¬
bility, and who have tears in readiness for every earthly object of distress,
have none to bestow on that which is the fruitful and malignant source
of all the evils which have drowned the world in sorrow. They may feel
at the commission of those gross vices which attach infamy to them¬
selves or their connections, or which entail visible misery on the culprit.
But they feel not for sin — for the dishonour it does to God, and the de¬
gradation and ruin which it brings on the rational and immortal soul.
The hard and flinty heart must be struck by the rod of God’s word,
wielded by the hand of a greater prophet than Moses, before the waters
of godly sorrow will flow from it : and there is this difference between
it and the rock in the neighbourhood of Horeb, — the one needed to be
struck only once, whereas the other requires repeated strokes of divine
influence, in order to extract the treasure which is infused into, not
inherent in it. Even the renewed heart is apt to return to its original
obduracy, or to contract a callousness as to sin by its daily contact
with it, unless this is subdued by the grace of God. It is true, our
Saviour hath said, “ He that believeth on me — out of his belly ” (that
is, out of his heart) “ shall flow rivers of living v^ater.” But what says
the Evangelist in explanation 1 “ But this spake he of the Spirit,
which they that believe on him should receive.” a Would we have the
services of this day, would you have the word now spoken, to profit us,
by leading us to mourn and be in bitterness for our sins, like David in
the text, then let us look up, with faith and fervent desire, to Him who
promised to “ pour on the house of David, and the inhabitants of J eru-
salem, the spirit of grace and of supplications.”

1 Ps. Ivi. 8.

2 John, vii. 39.

488

SEKMON XX/

THE BETTER COUNTRY.

“ But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.” — Heb. xi. 16.

It is not at all uncommon to meet with persons who desire a better
country than that in which they were born and have long resided.
Thousands have, within these few years, left our own shores, and
traversed wide oceans to the west and the south, in quest of new abodes.
In some cases this has proceeded from the urgency of external circum¬
stances, inducing them to seek support for their families in places less
peopled, and where the means of subsistence are more easily procured.
The stern law of necessity has obliged them to tear asunder the ties
of country and kindred. More frequently, the emigrants have been
actuated by a restless disposition, the love of novelty, a spirit of dis¬
content with the institutions of their native land, or extravagant and
visionary hopes of bettering their condition. But all, how different
soever their motives, merely seek to exchange one spot of earth for
another, and in this respect differ widely, or, as we usually say, toto
coelo, from the persons described in our text, who “ desire a better coun¬
try, that is, an heavenly.”

The inspired apostle is speaking immediately of the patriarchs. As
an example of the power of faith, he adduces the conduct of Abraham,
who left his native country, and went out, at the command of God,
“ not knowing wliither he went,” and his subsequent manner of life in
continuing to “ dwell in tabernacles, as did Isaac and Jacob, the heirs
with him of the same promise.” By adhering, during the whole of
their lives, to this mode of residence, the apostle tells us that these
patriarchs “confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the
earth.” Such was the express confession of Abraham to the inhabitants
of Canaan, “ I am a stranger and a sojourner with you ;” and of Jacob
to Pharaoh, “ The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred
and thirty years : few and evil have the days of the years of my life
been.” From these premises the general conclusion is obvious : “ They
that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.” But
the question might be put. What country did they seek ? — and this the
apostle proceeds to answer. If there was any country upon earth which

1 Pelivered January 1835.

THE BETTER COUNTRY.

489

these sojourners longed for, it must have been their native land, in
which they had kinsmen and connections ; and its distance and the
difficulties of the journey were not so great as to prevent their reaching
it, provided they had cherished such a desire. “ Truly if they had been
mindful of that country from which they came out, they might have
had opportunity to have returned.” But as they never testified any
wish of this kind, the inference in the text natively follows : “ But
noAV ” (from what has been said of their conduct, it appears plainly that)
“ they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly.”

What is said of these holy men is true of all believers both under the
Old and New Testament. “ I am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner
as all my fathers were,” said David, long after the children of Israel
had entered on the quiet possession of Canaan. The apostle Peter
addresses the saints to whom he wrote, “ as strangers and pilgrims ; ”
and lest any should suppose that this description was applicable only to
the strangers scattered abroad through the lesser Asia, we need only
refer to another apostle, who declares, in the name of Christians in
general, “ Our conversation is in heaven,” and exhorts them to “ set
their affection on things above, and not on things on the earth.” If we
are “ fellow-citizens with the saints and of the household of God,” we
are pilgrims on earth, and our heart, as well as our home, is in heaven.
This is the doctrine of the text ; and in handling it we shall consider,

I. The desire which believers cherish with respect to the better
country.

II. The manner in which this desire is evinced and manifested by
them.

I. The desire of the better country.

We possess little direct knowledge of heaven or a future state of
blessedness. Scripture holds it forth chiefly by images, borrowed from
earthly things, and describes its glory and felicity by representing them
as far surpassing everything of the kind seen or enjoyed in this world.
Is it represented as an inheritance '? — it is “ incorruptible and undefiled.”
A crown? — it “ fadeth not away.” A kingdom ?— it “cannot be re¬
moved.” Is it held forth as a city % — it is “ the New Jerusalem, whose
walls are garnished with all manner of precious stones.” Is it spoken of
as a country 1 — then it is “ a better country,” — better than Canaan,
which, while the blessing of God rested on it, was a goodly land, the
joy of all the earth — better than any countiy that ever existed, or could
exist, in this world. There are various qualities which render one
country preferable to another, such as healthfulness, abundance, tran¬
quillity, knowledge, and righteousness, liberty and order, and security for
the permanent enjoyment of our property. And in respect of all these
qualities it might be easily shown that heaven is a better country
than any upon earth. But, without dwelling upon this, let us endea-

2 K

490

SEKMON XX.

vour to describe the desire which the Christian cherishes with respect
to heaven.

1. The desire is of supernatural implantation. All the desires of the
natural heart are confined to this world, and to what may be enjoyed
on earth. “ What shall we eat 1 what shall we drink 1 wherewithal
shall we be clothed V are the expressions of natural desire. Or if, in
some, the aspirations may be of a more refined and elevated descrip¬
tion, still they are sublunary. They may be aerial, and even ethereal,
but they are not celestial. The pride of life, as well as the lust of the
eye and of the flesh, is of this world. We have heard of an ambitious
man who wept because there was not another world for him to conquer ;
but they were all earthly laurels he wished to win ; — he had no desire
to “ take the kingdom of heaven by force.” There is in man a natu¬
ral longing for immortality, but his wish is to enjoy it on earth ; or
if he has feigned to himself a heaven as a future residence, it is con¬
structed after the likeness of this world.

The saints themselves did not always breathe this desire. We might
apply the words of the text in this view. “ Now they desire a better
country.” Formerly their desires were like other men’s. Abraham, at
one time, looked not beyond the inheritance of his father Nahor, and
what he might be able to add to it by his own skill and industry ; but
when, at the divine call, he left Ur of the Chaldees, “ God gave him
another heart,” ^ and thenceforth he became unmindful of the country
from wliich he had come out, and was content to be a sojourner in that
to which he had gone, for he desired a heavenly country. So is it with
all those who are effectually called. Formerly they “ walked according
to the course of this world, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the
mind.” But now they are born again, and have new dispositions ; —
born from above, and seek those things that are above. Their desire for
heaven is an essential element of their new nature. It is a supernatural
instinct, pointing to heaven as their mother-country — a sublime aspira¬
tion, indicative of their noble birth, and distingaiishing them as men of
“ a more excellent spirit ” than those who are content to grovel in the
dust of this world.

2. This desire proceeds from a discovery of the glory and excellence
of heaven. It is not a blind instinct, like that which teaches the
swallow to migrate at a certain season of the year, or the new-born child
to seek the milk which nature intended for its sustenance ; but an
enlightened and reasonable feeling. The saints desire heaven because
they perceive and judge it to be a better country than any on earth.
Some perhaps may ask. How can they know heaven to be such a
desirable land, when they never saw it ? We might reply by asking,
Does all our knowledge come by sight 1 Have we not ears as well as
eyes 1 Does not our acquaintance with the greater part of the earth
which we inhabit, rest on the report of travellers or the letters of

1 1 Sam. X. 9.

THE BETTEK COUNTEY.

491

friends ? But the saints have seen heaven through the glass of the
divine promise, which brings it within their view. This is the account
which the apostle gives of the exercise of the patriarchs in the context :
“ These all died in faith, not having received the promises” (that is, the
blessings promised), “ but having seen them afar off.” That wonderful
instrument the telescope, the invention of which Providence would
appear to have delayed,” as it were, to put to shame the infidelity of
modern times, not only brings near to us the heavenly bodies, discernible
by the naked eye, in a way which could not have previously been con¬
ceived, but reveals a multitude of stars, wiiich, without its aid, would
have been to us as if they had not existed, and have remained invisible as
the glories of the third heavens. And who will venture to deny that
God can communicate similar discoveries in the spiritual world, as far
above the reach of the eye of reason, as those of the telescope are above
the range of the natural eye, but accompanied with impressions of equal
distinctness and certainty ? Deny it who may, Christians are assured
of its truth. “ God who commanded the light to shine out of darkness,
hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” i Their “ eyes have seen the king
in his beauty ; they have beheld the land that is very far off.” ® “ As it
is written. 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. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit.” »

The desire of the Christian for the heavenly country is enlarged with
his increasing discoveries of its riches and glory, and these discoveries
are not only theoretic, but also experimental. “ We rejoice in hope of the
glory of God, And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also ; know¬
ing that tribulation worketh patience ; and patience, experience ; and
experience, hope.” ^ “ The kingdom of God is within you.” You have
heard of “ coming events casting their shadows before ; ” but “ the world
to come” casts its lights before — it makes its “powers” to be felt. The
saint sometimes obtains, as Moses before his death, a Pisgah-sight
of the better country, and he tastes in the wilderness the grapes of the
heavenly Eshcol. And when admitted to communion with God in ordi¬
nances, he is led to exclaim with Jacob, “ This is none other but the
house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.”

3. This desire proceeds from, and is supported by, a firm and appro¬
priating faith of the divine promises. The patriarchs not only “ saw
them afar off’,” but they “ were persuaded of them and embraced them.”
They relied on the truth of the promiser, and they embraced the pro¬
mised good, as all their salvation, and all their desire.

Those who stigmatise tins as the dream of fancy, should consider to
what their rejection of it leads. Will we exclude God from his own
world 1 Will we prevent him from holding intercourse with the spirits
which he has made 1 And what less do we, when we say that he

1 2 Cor. iv. 6. * Isa. xxiii. 17. ^ j Cor. ii. 9, 10. ^ Rom. v. 2, 3 , 4.

492

SERMON XX.

cannot speak to them, so as to satisfy them that it is his voice, and to
demand their reliance on his word a demand which one creature daily
makes upon another, and does not make in vain. “ If we receive the
witness of men,” surely “the witness of God is greater.” “ Now, faith
is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not
seen.” Shall we brand all the great and holy men of antiquity,
the lights of their age, when darkness was all around, the salt of
the earth in a time of almost universal corruption — as enthusiasts'?
The history of their faith is the record of the evidence for a future state
of blessedness. Abraham was assured of the call of God, when he left
his native country, and went out, not knowing whither he went ; and
he not only attested the sincerity of his belief, but confessed the truth
of the promise made to him, by continuing to dwell as a sojourner in
Canaan to the end of his days. And so did Isaac and Jacob, the heirs
with him of the same promise. The promise of God continued to receive
fresh accessions of evidence in the subsequent revelations made to the
fathers, and in the partial accomplishment of it, till at last it was com¬
pleted in the appearance, ministry, and work of him in whom all the
nations of the earth were to be blessed ; and it has been “ confirmed unto
us by them that heard him ; God also bearing them witness, both with
signs and wonders, and with divers miracles, and gifts of the Holy
Ghost.” 1

The faith of the Christian does not rest solely on the external evi¬
dence of miracles, as a divine attestation. The Gospel has a self-evi¬
dencing power ; — like the sun, it carries its own light along with it,
whithersoever it goes. It is a luminous body, and every ray which pro¬
ceeds from it throws light on the path to heaven. God does not require
his people to rest their hopes of eternal felicity on a simple promise, that
he will bestow it upon them. He knows the infirmity of our flesh, as
creatures of sense, and the infirmity of our spirit, as sinners oppressed
with a feeling of guilt and unworthiness. He speaks to us by facts, and
facts which, addressing themselves to our wants and the appetencies of
our nature, are calculated to lift our desires and expectations to the in¬
conceivable good which he hath prepared in heaven. How wonderful
the apparatus for this purpose ! How simple, yet every way adapted to
the end ! When Jacob had left his father’s house, he saw in a dream
“ a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven ; and
behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.” This was
intended to confirm his faith in the invisible protection of God ; but it
had also a typical meaning, to which our Lord referred when he said,
“Ye shall see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and
descending upon the Son of man.” ^ Heaven was twice opened, — first at
the descent of the Son of God to our world, and, secondly, at his ascen¬
sion. When the Son of God descended, the portals of heaven closed
behind him, and were as firmly barred as they had ever been ; but they

1 Heb. ii. 4. ® John, i. 51.

THE BETTEll COUNTEY.

493

were not closed after he ascended, when he had obtained eternal redemp¬
tion for us. Heaven is now kept open by his residence and ministra¬
tion in the upper sanctuary. The incarnation of the Son of God, his
ministry on earth, his death, his resurrection, ascension, session, and in¬
tercession, are the step of the mystic ladder by whicla the faith and
desires of the saints rise to heaven. “ Ye believe in God, believe also
in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions ; if it were not so, I
would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” “ God who is
rich in mercy hath quickened us together with Christ, and hath raised
us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ
Jesus.”

4. This desire is animated by a hope, which produces patience. “ We
are saved by hope.” Such is the importance of this Christian grace,
and the connection in which it stands with the future possession of
glory, that it gives a name to heavenly enjoyments in the Scripture.
Hence we read of “ the hope laid up for us in heaven,” and of looking
for “ that blessed hope,” and the glorious appearing of the great God,
and our Saviour Jesus Christ. Desire would fail were it not invigo¬
rated by hope, and sustained by patience. It is in itself an impatient
feeling, and sickens at delay. Its language is, “ Why is his chariot
so long in coming 1 why tarry the wheels of his chariot?” Gracious
desire, is the soul looking out at the window of ho])e, and leaning on the
arm of patience, “ counting him faithful that has promised, and against
hope believing in hope.” “ The vision is yet for an appointed time ;
but at the end it shall speak and not lie : though it tarry, wait for it,
because it wdll surely come.” '

5. The desire is habitual. “ They desire a better country.” This was
their exercise, not at any one time only, but through the whole of their
lives. Christian desire is the breathing of the new creature after its.
native clime, its inheritance, its rest. It is not so much an emotion, a
transient feeling, called up duriog a period of excitement, as a principle
fixed and rooted in the heart, and which is entwined with all the feel¬
ings of the new man. It may be weakened and borne down by corrup¬
tion, the cares, riches, and pleasures of this life, but cannot be extin¬
guished. It may be shaken by the storm of temptation in the soul, but
faithful as the magnetic needle to the north, it will resume its position,
and point with trembling reverence towards heaven. Sometimes when
faith is steadfast, and hope lively, the Christian’s steps are enlarged
under him, and the pulse beats high with the desire of celestial glory.
“ As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after
thee, 0 God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God : when
shall I come, and appear before God ? ” “ For we that are in this
tabernacle do groan, being burdened : not for that we would be un¬
clothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of
life.” But even when this is not their attainment, believers can say,

1 Hab. ii. 2.

494

SERMON XX.

“ Yea, in the way of thy juflgments, 0 Lord, have we waited for thee ;
the desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee.
With my soul have I desired thee in the night. Yea, with my spirit
within me will I seek thee early.”

Lastly, it is a desire which shall be gratified. “ The desire of the
righteous shall be granted ; the expectation of the poor shall not perish.”
There are many things which men desire most ardently, health, longlife,
riches, friends, but they never obtain them, or they do not find that
satisfaction in them which they promised themselves. All the desires
of good men are not always granted, even though they are not in them¬
selves unlawful. Moses desired permission to enter Canaan, David to
build the temple, and Peter to know what should become of the beloved
disciple ; yet their desires were denied. But the gracious desire of
heaven shall in no case be frustrated. God will not disappoint those
desires which are of his own implantation, and rest upon his own faith¬
ful word and promise. They are sacred to him as the first-fruits laid
upon his altar, and perfumed with prayers and praise. What is more,
the object of their desire shall not only be granted, but their expecta¬
tions shall be exceeded, when their hope has been turned into fruition,
and their desire into delight. Each shall be constrained to say, as the
Queen of Sheba of the glory of Solomon, “ Behold, the half was not
told me.”

II. It remains to show how the saints evince and manifest this desire.
Desire is an affection of the mind of which the individual is conscious,
but which others can know only by its outward manifestations. It is
evidently implied in the text that the patriarchs had evinced by decided
proofs that their desires were supremely fixed on heaAmn. They gave
credible evidence of this. We are bound to act in such a manner as
may convince others, both within and without the church, that we are
journeying to the heavenly country, and induce them to cast in their lot
with us, and bear us company by the way ; as Moses said to his brother-
in-law, “We are journeying to the place of which the Lord said, I will
give it you : come thou with us, and we will do thee good.” ^ But it is
incumbent on us also to satisfy our own consciences on this head — to
ascertain, on solid and scriptural grounds, that our desire is of a gracious
and saving kind. Let us keep both of these in view, while we inquire
how the saints show that they desire heaven as a better country.

1. The saints evince this desire by their conversation. If a person
has the intention or prospect of going to a foreign country, he will often
speak of it, seek information about it, and make himself master of its
language. The saints “ speak the langi;age of Canaan.” “ Our conver¬
sation is in heaven,” says the apostle. He includes under that expres¬
sion the whole of a Christian’s conduct and deportment. But his say¬
ing is true also in the proper and more restricted sense of that word.

1 Numb. X. 19.

THE BETTER COUNTRY.

495

It is natural for us to talk of those things which are the object of our
esteem, desire, and pursuit. “ Out of the abundance of the heart, the
mouth speaketh.” They that are of the world, speak of the world ; they
that are of God, speak of the things of God. If persons conceal their
desires, it is either because the discovery of these may balk their expec¬
tation, because they are ashamed of them, or because they think that
others will not sympathise with them. But none of these reasons need
or ought to prevent us from communicating our heavenly desires. The
expression of them cannot interfere with their accomplishment ; and to
be ashamed of expressing them is a feeling altogether unworthy of an
expectant of immortality. He who in a foreign land is ashamecl of his
native country, is unworthy of it ; and he who is ashamed of the king¬
dom of God cannot expect admission into it. With respect to the want
of congenial feelings in those with whom he converses, the Christian will
study prudence in the introduction of religious topics, and avoid to make
his good evil spoken of ; but even while he keeps in his mouth with the
bridle of discretion in the presence of the ungodly, he will carefully shun
everything which can be construed into a disavowal of his hopes ; and
if, at any time, he should be tempted to this sin, his speech will bewray
him. The Christian pilgrim is under no such restraint, Avhen he is in
the company of his fellow-travellers, and with them his talk will be of
the better country. You must not, however, confine a heavenly con¬
versation to discourse which turns directly on heaven. He that speaks
of God, speaks of heaven, “ for it is God’s throne ; ” he that speaks of
the church, speaks of heaven, “ for it is the city of the great King.” To
talk of holiness, is to talk of the atmosphere of heaven ; to converse
about Christ, is to converse about the way to heaven, and that which
constitutes all its felicity.

Religious converse has been practised by the saints in all ages, and
especially in times of abounding irreligion and profaneness. “Then
they that feared the Lord spake often one to another : and the Lord
hearkened, and heard it; and a book of remembrance was written
before him for them that feared the Lord, and tliat thought upon his
name.” i They not only spake of divine things when they happened to
meet, but they met that they might speak of them. They had stated
as well as occasional meetings for this purpose. Two things go far to
prove that professors of religion have become, in a great degree, strangers
to heavenly desires ; first, the rareness of religious conversation in their
occasional discourse ; and, secondly, the falling oft’ of meetings for prayer
and religious converse. Our fathers grudged not to abridge their hours
of labour and their hours of rest — they scrupled not to travel with the
light of the moon and the stars, and to spend hours in a smoky hovel,
that they might enjoy this foretaste of heaven upon earth ; while we,
with every accommodation and facility, will not go out of our houses, or
cross a street, to enjdy the privilege. My brethren, these things ought

1 Mai. iii. IG.

496

SERMOl^ XX.

not to be so. To what can we ascribe them but to earthliness of affec¬
tion, distrust of God, and want of brotherly love ?

2. The saints evince this temper of mind, by their conduct in reference
to this present world. They testify by their whole deportment that
they do not regard it as their portion and rest. In jDroportion as their
desires are set on heaven, they are withdrawn from this earth. So far
as they act in character, they display a holy indifference about terres¬
trial objects. When their faith in the better country is clear, and their
longings after it lively and ardent, they make their “ moderation known
to all men,” being assured that “ the Lord is at hand.” Do they seek
great things for themselves in respect of wealth or honours 1 They seek
them not. Their treasure is in heaven, where their hearts are ; and
they run the race set before them, and fight the good fight, in hope of
that unfading crown which Christ shall bestow on them at his second
appearing.

Are they placed in affluent circumstances ? They are not high-
minded ; they trust not in uncertain riches, they are jealous over them¬
selves, lest their hearts should be corrupted by them ; and are “ ready
to communicate, laying up in store for themselves a good foundation
against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life.” Are
they in depressed and indigent circumstances 1 They are content with
such things as they have, and submit cheerfully to privations. Are
they subjected to worldly losses and bereavements 1 They do not bewail
their lot, like him who cried, “Ye have taken away my gods which I
made, and what have I more?”^ but with holy Job, they say, “The
Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away;” and, provided such clispensa-
tions have, through the blessing of God, the effect of weaning their
minds from the world, and fixing them more steadily on heaven, they
count their losses gains. They are ready to part with all at the call of
God, or for the sake of Christ ; like Moses, who “ esteemed the reproach
of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt, for he had respect
unto the recompense of the reward ; ” and like the believing Hebrews,
who “took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, knowing in themselves
that they had in heaven a better and an enduring substance.” With
their hopes and desires of heaven within them, they can say, with
better reason than the philosopher in the midst of the bustle and
anxiety of a conflagration, — “ I carry my all with me.”

3. They evince this desire by their patience under the afflictions
of this life. “No chastening is for the present joyous, but grievous ;”
and if the saint had hope in this life only, he would be of all men the
most miserable, as he is often chastened and plagued more sharply than
others. Worldly men cannot fail to fret and murmur and be miserable
under affliction. It crushes their hopes, withers their desires, and
dries up the springs of their comforts. But it cannot reach those of

I Judges, xviii. 24.

THE BETTER COUNTRY.

497

the man whose “ affections are set on things which are above.” On
the contrary, by mortifying the remains of carnality, and disengaging
his heart from the world, it contributes to strengthen his gracious
desires, and makes him long more ardently for that place, where alone
he can enjoy complete exemption from all that is painful and distress¬
ing. At the same time his desire, being full of hope, sustains the soul,
and enables him to wait patiently for the salvation of God. This
influence of desire and hope in sustaining the Christian is largely ex¬
pressed in the prayer which the apostle poured out in behalf of the
believing Colossians : “ That ye might walk worthy of the Lord,
strengthened with all might according to his glorious power, unto
all patience and long-suffering with joyfulness ; giving thanks unto the
Father, who hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of
the saints in light.” Add to this that sanctified affliction is the means
of prepai’ing for heaven, and when Christians perceive this, they are
made to “glory in tribulations,” these appearing to them light and
momentary, compared with the exceeding great and eternal weight of
glory which they work for them. Fretfulness and impatience under
trouble argue that the desire of heaven in the Christian is languid, or
obstructed by much unbelief and ignorance of the way in which God
conducts his people to the city of habitation. “Ye have forgotten the
exhortation which speaketh unto you as unto children. My son, despise
not thou the chastening of the Lord.” “ Ye have need of patience,
that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.
For yet a little while, and he that shall come, will come, and will not
tarry.”

4. Believers evince their desire of heaven by the regular inter¬
course which they keep up with it, and the delight they take in
those exercises which most resemble the employment of its blessed
inhabitants.

There is nothing which the stranger and sojourner is more attentive
to, or more gratified by, than maintaining correspondence with his
native country. If he should show himself indifferent about receiving
intelligence from home, or neglect opportunities of communication, it
would be considered as a proof that he had become an alien, and
ceased to wish for a return. The word and ordinances of God are the
appointed means of intercourse between the saints and the better coun¬
try. To the former they owe all their knowledge of it, and they cannot
fail to take delight in that which was the first means of producing their
hope and desire of heaven. They “ call the Sabbath a delight,” for it
is the day which, in its peaceful and sacred employments, harmonises
most with “the rest which remaineth to the people of God.” By
prayer and meditation they send their desires heavenward ; and by
faith they receive a return in assurances of acceptance, and communi¬
cations of grace. Nor is this an intercourse by mere symbols ; it is real

498

SERMON XX.

and sensible ; and there is a personal agency established for carrying it
on, by the residence of Christ in heaven, and the residence of the Spirit
in their hearts.

Praise is the characteristic employment of the upper sanctuary, and
all true Christians delight in this part of worship. In their prayers
they praise God, ascribing to him the kingdom, power, and glory ;
nor do they neglect, or carelessly perform, in private or public, the
ordinance of psalmody, “ speaking to one another, in psalms, and
hymns, and spiritual songs, making melody in their heart unto the
Lord.”

5. They manifest this desire by regulating their conduct according to
the laws, maxims, and manners of heaven. A stranger may accommo¬
date himself to the manners and habits of the people among whom he
dwells, provided there is nothing in them that is immoral ; and a
Christian will not court singularity in things common or indifferent —
such as in his gait, dress, or dialect. But in all things which are regu¬
lated by the law of God he will be precise and uncompromising. When¬
ever the maxims or manners of the world contradict the law of the God
of heaven, he will make conscience of practising nonconformity ; and
he will find many opportunities for this. “ Be not conformed to this
world.” “ Dearly beloved, I beseech you, as strangers and pilgrims,
abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul.” Eegulating
himself by the maxims, and conforming himself to the manners of
heaven, the conduct of the heir of heaven will be holy ; for “ every man
that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even as Christ is pure.”
“ Seeing that ye look for such things, what manner of persons ought
ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness.” He will manifest
in his deportment towards his brethren a pacific and forgiving disposi¬
tion. And the whole of his character will bear the impress of that
love which is the predominating feature of the inhabitants of the better
country.

6. The saints evince their desires after heaven by their diligent pre¬
paration for it. Desire is a spur to diligence, both in natural and
spiritual things. They say plainly that they “ seek a country” — not as
if it were unknown to them, or hard to find, but in respect of diligence
in the use of means of coming to it. Their exertions are as great, and
their vigilance as unremitting, as if they expected to obtain heaven as
the proper reward of their services. “ Work out your salvation with
fear and trembling.” Forgetting those things which are behind, and
reaching forth to those things which are before, I press toward the
mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Desires
will never bring a man to heaven any more than they wiU bring a
traveller to the end of his journey.

Finally, the saints evince their desire for heaven by their willingness
to die. You have heard of the Swiss sickness — a longing for their
native hills which comes upon that people, when they are abroad.

THE BETTEE COUNTEY.

499

which makes them sick at heart, and grows into an incurable disease.
Something similar is occasionally felt by the saints, whether it be
excited by the evils of this life, or by ecstatic discoveries of heavenly
bliss. “I loathe it,” said Job; “I would not live alway.” “Now,”
said Simeon, “ lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes
have seen thy salvation.” We must all die ; but it is the saint only
that, on cool reflection, is ready, and willing, and sometimes desirous
to die. And though the Christian may not always attain to this, yet
he is willing to leave this world when God calls him out of it— “ will¬
ing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.”
We find Paul at one time “ in a strait between two, having a desire
to depart;” and yet adding, “nevertheless to abide in the flesh is
more needful for you.” ^ But when he saw that his vmrk was over, he
yielded to his ruling passion, which was, “ to be with Christ.” “ I am
NOW EEADY to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.”^

From this subject we may learn, in the first place, the reasonable¬
ness of the preference which the saints give to heaven. It is a better
country than any that they know, or expect to see on earth. Their pre¬
ference is not the effect of gloomy discontentment, or of a mind soured
with disappointments, and dissatisfied with their connections, natural,
civil, or religious. It is the result of a fair and deliberate calculation,
founded on the discoveries they have made of the superior advantages
of the heavenly country, and confirmed by experience. “ By faith,
Moses, when he was come to years, refused to be called the son of
Pharaoh’s daughter ; choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people
of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season ; esteeming the
reproach of Christ greater riches than all the treasures of Egypt : for
he had respect to the recompense of the reward.”

2. See one improvement which we should make of the evils of this
life — to excite and strengthen our desire for the better country. It is not
enough to feel these evils, to grieve for them, to complain of them, to
become weary of life and to wish to die. They have failed in producing
their proper effects, if they have not enhanced heaven in our estimation,
and induced us to long for our departure from this world chiefly that we
may “ be with Christ, which is far better.”

3. Let us learn what ought to be our wishes and prayers for our
country on earth : that it may be as like as possible to the heavenly
country. Their love to and their desire after heaven does not quench
patriotism in the breasts of enlightened Christians. For their brethren
and companions’ sakes, they will pray that peace may be within its
walls and prosperity within its palaces. They know that God has a
cause on earth, and they are anxious that it should flourish in their
father-land. Their native country is always in their eye when they
pray, “ Thy kingdom come : thy will be done in earth, even as it is in

1 Phil. i. 23. ^ 2 Tim. iv. 6.

500

SEEMON XX.

heaven.” They are not afraid that it shall become too like heaven ; the
more it flourishes in knowledge, virtue, and religion, the brighter will
be the reflection from it of the image of that happy place, where all is
light and love, and in which they desire to meet their cliildren, and their
children’s children.

4. The subject teaches us the necessity of faith — to discover the
existence and the excellence of the heavenly country, and to enable us
to live under the influence of unseen but eternal realities. Would you
form an acquaintance with this better country ? Seek that faith which
is “ the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
Without this, you want the eye to discern, the ear to hear, and the heart
to conceive, the things which God hath prepared for them that love
him. “ We,” says the apostle, “ look not at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen
are temporal, hut the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Finally, my brethren, do we desire a better country ? Then, we wdll
regret the less that every year which is spent shortens the time of our
remaining here, and brings us nearer to eternity. We will see the
wisdom of those trials which, by loosing the ties that bind us to this
world, prepare our minds for the next ; and in every instance of
mortality we will hear the admonition, “ Arise ye, and depart ; for this
is not your rest, because it is polluted.” ^

1 Micah, ii. 10.

501

SERMON XXI/

THE FAN IN CHRIST’S HAND,

“ Whose fan is in his hand^ and he will thorovghly purge his floor ^ and gather his
wheat into the garner ; hut he will hum up the chaff with unquenchable fire." —
Matthew, iii. 12.

We are accustomed to hear children speak of the Bible and the Testa¬
ment ; and we sometimes find this mode of speaking retained by per¬
sons who ought to have put away childish things. The Old and New
Testaments form one Bible. They proceed from the same author,
testify the same things, possess the same properties, and lead to
the same end. In the writings of the Old Testament we have
eternal life, and they testify of Christ. And the writings of the
New Testament abound with quotations from those of Moses and the
prophets. Upwards of four hundred years elapsed between the com¬
posing of the last book of the Old Testament and the first of the New,
and yet the current of revelation fiows on in an unbroken stream. You
would suppose that Matthew had taken the pen from the hand of
Malachi, and j^roceeded immediately to relate the accomplishment of
what his predecessor had predicted. “ Behold,” says Malachi, “ I will
send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me.” Tins
Matthew relates as accomplished in John the Baptist. “ This is he that
was spoken of by the prophet saying. The voice of one crying in the
wilderness. Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
“ The Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to his temple,” says
Malaclii. This Matthew shows to have been fulfilled in the coming of
Christ ; and even in their accounts of the manner of his appearance, they
harmonise. “ But who may abide the day of his coming ?” exclaims the
prophet ; “ and who shall stand when he appeareth ? for he is like a
refiner’s fire, and like fuller’s soap.” ^ “ He shall bajitise,” responds the
evangelist, “ with the Holy Ghost and with fire.” “ Behold the day
cometh,” continues the former, “ that shall burn as an oven ; and all the
proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, shall be stubble : and the day
that cometh shall burn them up, saith the Lord of hosts, that it shall

1 This was the last discourse delivered by the author, having been preached August 2,
1835, the Sabbath immediately preceding his decease. ^ Mai. iii. 2.

502

SEEMON XXI.

leave them neither root nor branch.” i This corresponds exactly with
the words before us ; “Whose fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly
purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner ; but he will burn
up the chaff with unquenchable Are.”

^ A secure people need a severe minister ; and it is a good sign that a
people have been aroused from their security when they are reconciled
to the severity of the preacher. Such a preacher was John the Baptist,
who warned a hypocritical nation to flee from the wrath to come,
preaching the baptism of repentance. His ministry occupied a middle
place, as it were, between the law and the gospel. He stood between
the prophets and Christ. He was honoured above the former, because
he was permitted to point out the Messiah with the Anger, and to say,
“ Behold the Lamb of God.” It was his work to testify of Christ as
just about to appear, and to conduct and deliver over his disciples to his
and their common Master. In speaking of him, though he cheerfully
admits his own inferiority, he at the same time asserts the harmony of
their design, and warns his hearers against expecting to find under the
administration of Him that was to eome any covert for their hypocrisy
and other vices. “ Now also,” says he in a preceding verse, “ the axe
is laid unto the root of the tree : therefore every tree that bringeth not
forth good fruit, is hewn down, and cast into the fire.” What more cal¬
culated to awaken unprofitable members of the church than this descrip¬
tion ? The unfruitful tree is marked out by the gardener, who has long
dressed and pruned it in vain ; the ground is cleared around it, the axe
is laid at its root, and nothing remains but for the lord of the garden,
when he comes in to survey it, to give the command, “ Cut it down ;
why cumbereth it the ground V' Similar is the description in the suc¬
ceeding verse. Water will remove the external filth which cleaves to
any object, but the operation of fire is severer and more effectual — it
melts the hardest metals and burns up the dross. John baptised with
water ; but Clirist shall “ baptise with the Holy Ghost and with fire.”

The description is varied in our text, while the subject is still the
same. The work of purifying the church, and clearing it of all that is
foreign, incongruous or oflensive, is likened to the operation of winnow¬
ing grain. This process, in ancient times, consisted of different opera¬
tions. The corn, after being thrashed, was laid out on a floor, and
exposed to a gentle wind which scattered the straw and chaff. It was
then beaten by the hoofs of oxen, next passed through a sieve, and
lastly subjected to the hand-fan, a species of shovel, by which it was
thoroughly cleansed. Similar to this is the purification of the church ;
and Christ, who superintends the whole process, and reserves for him¬
self the last and crowning part of it, is here compared to the husband¬
man, who stood with the fan in his hand, with which he, for the last
time, turned up the grain, that the wind might separate and bear away
every remaining particle of chaff and refuse, and that nothing might rest

> Mai. iv. 1.

THE FAN IN CHRIST ’s HAND.

503

behind but what was pure and substantial. It is one part of the work
of Christ to purify his church ; and he will not do this work super¬
ficially, or leave it unfinished : he will “ thoroughly purge his floor ; ”
he will make a complete separation, at last, between the chaff and the
wheat ; the latter he will deposit in his heavenly garner, and the former
he will burn up with unquenchable fire. The devil has a fan of his own,
which he uses for the purposes of temptation. “ Simon, Simon, Satan
hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat.” But Christ
will not give up his fan to Satan : he still holds it in his hand, and
brings individual believers, as well as his church, under its operation,
that he may thoroughly cleanse his floor.

My intention, at present, is to name some of those means which the
Lord Jesus Christ employs to fan or purify liis church.

It may be premised that the work is twofold. First, it includes a
separation of persons. The church in this world is like a barn-floor,
which contains a mixture of good grain and refuse. There are hypo¬
crites and nominal or godless professors, as well as genuine saints ; and
sometimes the number of the former may become so great that it is
difficult to perceive any other. Hence the need of times of reformation,
in which Christ comes into his church as a purifier, with his fan in his
hand. Secondly, it implies a separation of persons from their corrup¬
tions. The husks of sin, the clay of corruption, tlie chaff of vanity, cleave
to the best so long as they are in the body, and hence they need to be
sifted and beaten and fanned, in order to cleanse them. In accomplish¬
ing these separate objects, our Lord proceeds in a manner somewhat
different ; but still, in general, the same means serve, in his adorable
wisdom, to effect both purposes.

1. Christ accomplishes this work by means of his Word. It is com¬
pared to fire, on account of its searching and purifying tendency ; to a
candle or light, which discovers the hidden things of darkness ; to a
sharp two-edged sword, which cuts both ways, discerns the thoughts
and intents of the heart, and divides between the soul and spirit, — ■
making a discrimination between states and characters, not only by
laying down infallible marks of these, but also by applying them con¬
vincingly to individuals.

The Scriptures evince their discriminating power, by touching both
the consciences and the corruptions of men ; and by either softening
and subduing them, or by irritating and hardenmg them. To some the
gospel proves the savour of life ; to others, the savour of death : to them
that are saved, it is the power of God; to them that perish, a stumbling-
block and foolishness. “ Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising
again of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken against,
— that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” ^ So it was fore¬
told by Simeon to the mother of our Lord ; and the history of his per¬
sonal ministry is a commentary on that text.

> Luke, ii. 34.

504

SERMON XXI.

When he preached first in his native city of Nazareth, we are told
that, after he had read out his text, “ the eyes of all them that were in
the synagogue were fastened on him.” This was a favourable com¬
mencement. After he had proceeded so far in his sermon, it is said,
“ All bare him witness, and wondered at the gracious words which pro¬
ceeded out of his mouth.” This was .still more flattering. When it is
added, “They said. Is not this Joseph’s son?” — the question is sus¬
picious ; but still it might only mean that they were the more struck
with astonishment at his wisdom when they recollected that he was
the son of one of their poor townsmen. But Jesus proceeded to address
them in a style that was more plain than pleasant, telling them that a
prophet was seldom accepted in his own country, and reminding them
that though there were many widows in Israel during the famine in
the days of Elias, that prophet was sent to relieve only a single widow
who lived in Sarepta, a city of Sidon ; and though there were many
lepers in Israel, the only one whom Elisha cured was Naaman, a
Syrian, ^ — this doctrine of the divine sovereignty instantly changed their
admiration into resentment. “ All they in the synagogue, when they
heard these things, were filled with wrath, and rose up, and thrust him
out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the hill whereon their
city was built, that they might cast him down headlong.”'

His subsequent history presents numerous examples of the same
nature. After having miraculously fed the multitude on one occasion,
they exclaimed, “This is of a truth that prophet that should come into
the world and they would have taken him by force to make him a
king. When he withdrew from them, they eagerly followed and sought
him out. But by means of the fan of his word, he soon freed himself
of these light-minded, carnal followers. “ How can this man give us
his flesh to eat ? This is an hard saying : who can hear it ? From that
time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him.”*
On one occasion we are informed, “ the common people heard him
gladly :”® but why ? Because his discourse had on that occasion been
directed against the Scribes and Pharisees, and they were pleased to
see their superiors mortified ; but when their own turn came, and he
began to reprove their vices, by-and-by they were offended also. On
another occasion, he dispersed a whole congregation, except one, by that
single saying, “ He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a
stone at her.” “ And they which heard it, being convicted by their own
conscience, went out one by one, beginning at the eldest, even to the
last ; and Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst.”*

Similar instances might be mentioned of the power of Christ’s word
in distinguishing the characters of particular individuals. What a con¬
trast between the eftects which it produced on the Syrophenician woman,
and the rich young man ! The former persevered in her suit, even
after being repelled, and classed with the dogs : “ Truth, Lord ; yet the

1 Luke, iv. 2S — 29. * John, vi. 14 — 66. ® Mark, xii. 37. *■ John, viii. 7, 9.

THE FAN IN CHRIST’s HAND.

505

dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s table,” The latter
is blown away with a single word : “ He went away sorrowful ; for he
had great possessions.”^ “What thou doest, do quickly,” said our
Lord to Judas ; and, stirred by this fan, Satan carried away the un¬
sound disciple to the conclave of the enemies of Jesus. When the
word of God crosses our inclinations, discovers our idols, demands the
sacrifice of our corruptions — it raises a storm within, and arms the
whole soul against it. “ I hate him,” said Ahab of Micaiah, “ because
he always prophesies evil of me.” And what else could a faithful
prophet say of a wicked man, even though that man was a king 1

2. Christ cleanses his house by means of the fan of church discipline.
There are persons on whom the word has no effect, either one way or an¬
other ; it neither converts nor convinces them — neither reclaims them
from their sins, nor drives them from the society of the faithful. They are
like the ancient Jews, who did steal, murder, commit adultery, and yet
came and stood before the Lord in his house, saying, “ We are delivered
to do all these abominations.”^ Are these persons to be admitted to
the privileges of the kingdom of heaven ; or, having been admitted to
them before their conduct became openly immoral and profane, must
they be permitted to enjoy them without any control ? No : Christ
has not left his spiritual kingdom so defenceless, nor obliged his ser¬
vants to give that which is holy unto the dogs. He has committed to
them “ the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” and among these is the
key of discipline, and the power of binding and loosing by censures ;
and when these are exercised agreeably to the rule of his word, he
approves of and ratifies them in heaven. The purity of the church’s
communion is to be maintained by excluding the unworthy from its pale,
by admonishing and rebuking the scandalous, by suspending from seal¬
ing ordinances the irregular and disorderly, and by excommunicating
the obstinate and impenitent. Our Lord’s parables of the wheat and
tares, and of the net in which were enclosed good and bad fishes, teach
us that we are not to expect that the church on earth will ever consist
of godly persons exclusively, and that the office-bearers of the church
are not to presume to judge of the states of men. But the words of
Christ are not to be interpreted so as to contradict themselves ; and
does he not say of the person who neglects to hear the church, “ Let
him be unto you as an heathen man and a publican 1” and has not his
Spirit said by the apostle, “Put away from among yourselves that
wicked person?”® Such censures have a twofold good efi'ect : they
remove contagion from the church ; and they often have the efi'ect of
removing corruption from the offending individual. They are “ deliv¬
ered unto Satan for the destruction of the fiesh, that the spirit may be
saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.”*

3. Christ purifies his church and people by the fan of affliction. I
scruple not, my brethren, to call afflictions an ordinance of God ; they

1 Mat. XV. 27. ; xix. 22. " Jer. vii. 9. 3 1 Cor. v. 13, * Ib. v. 5.

2 L

506

SERMON XXI.

are sent to try his people — they are trials of their faith, love, humility,
patience, and submission. The heavy trial at Ziklag brought forth at
once David’s graces and the people’s corruptions. “ David was greatly
distressed ; for the people spake of stoning him, because the soul of all
the people was grieved, every man for his sons and for his daughters :
but David encouraged himself in the Lord his God.”^ Satan, well
aware of the tendency of affliction, when it bereaves men of their chief
enjoyments, to excite their corruptions, anticipated this effect in the
case of Job : “ Put forth thine hand now, and touch his bone and his
flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face.” And Job’s wife seconded the
temptation : “Dost thou still retain thine integrity? curse God, and
die.” But what was his exercise under all this ? “ What ! shall we
receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil ?
In all this J ob sinned not, nor charged God foolishly.” Elisha asks
the Shunammite, in her deep distress, “ Is it well with thy husband ? is
it well with the child ? And she said. It is well.” How very different
is it with others, who, when they are under the rod, spurn at it, “ like
a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke who, like Pharaoh, proudly ask,
“Who is the Lord that I should obey him ?” or as the impatient king
of Israel, “ Behold, this evil is of the Lord : why should I wait for the
Lord any longer V’^ What, my brethren, let me ask, has been the effect
of affliction upon you ?

4. The Lord Jesus sometimes employs in this work the fan of perse¬
cution and public calamity. It is said of the stony-ground hearers of
the word, that they “ dure only for a while ; for when tribulation or
persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by they are offended.”
The fear of these deter some from joining the church of Christ ; but
others will join without counting the cost. In the prophecies of
Daniel, Antiochus, that great persecutor, is said to “ have intelligence
with them that forsake the holy covenant. And some of them that
have understanding shall fall, to try them, and to purge, and to make
them white, even to the time of the end.”^ Of all the crowds that
flocked to our Lord during his earthly ministry, how few continued
with him during his last sufferings. Yea, even those who had continued
with him in his temptations, were blown away for a time, so that he
trode the wine-press alone. Peter, the boldest and most strenuous of
his adherents, denied him ; and the rest, in violation of their solemn
engagement, forsook him and fled. And who were left to own him ?
The thief, who was nailed with him to the cross, and the centirrion of
the band which guarded the scene of his crucifixion !

When the church becomes very corrupt, public judgments become
necessary to vindicate the character of God, and maintain the credit of
religion. It is sometimes necessary to let in a whirlwind, “ a full wind,”
as it is called, on the floor, which sweeps it completely, and carries all
away to a great distance. There is a fanning in wrath. “ I will fan

* 1 Sam. XXX. Q. * 2 Kings, vi. 33. ® Dau. xi. 30, 35.

THE FAN IN CHKIST’S HAND.

507

them with a fan in the gates of the land : I will bereave them of
children, I will destroy my people, since they return not from their
ways.” ^ At first view, this may appear to be ruinous, instead of puri-
fyiiioj to the church. Hence that expression, “ A dry wind of the high
places in the wilderness toward the daughter of my people, not to fan,
nor to cleanse.”^ The Chaldeans are there compared to that destructive
wind which blows from the deserts of Arabia, burning up and destroy¬
ing all before it, called the Simoom. For a time it appeared that the
church of God was ruined — good as well as bad were swept away.
Accordingly it follows, “ Behold, he shall come up as a whirlwind. Woe
unto us ! for we are spoiled.” But the good were preserved — they were
“sown among the people,” and restored to their own land. “ I will
strengthen the house of Judah, and I will save the house of Joseph,
and I will bring them again to place them ; and they shall be as though
I had not cast them off".”®

5. Christ employs for this purpose the fan of temptations. Afflic¬
tions and persecutions because of the word operate as temptations, and
are so denominated in Scripture, because they try the character of pro¬
fessed Christians, discover the unsoundness of some, and the integrity
of others. But temptations are more extensive. Prosperity, as well as
affliction, is a sore trial to the constancy of professors. By it, to use
the language of Job, they are “lifted up to the wind.”* How hard is
it for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven ! And how hard for
any man to withstand the influence even of a little breath of worldly
prosperity ! I refer, at present, however, to temptations strictly so
called.

We know that God “ tempteth no man ;” he does not seduce ns by
persuasion, or by any operation on our hearts, into sin. But, for wise
and holy ends, he permits men to be tempted, to be exposed to the
enticements of sinners, and to those circumstances which have a tend¬
ency to draw out their corrupt inclinations. Hence we are directed to
pray, “ Lead us not into temptation.” And there is a deep and awful
dispensation of Providence in this respect towards unprofitable and
ungodly professors of religion, which, while it demands from us humble
adoration, ought to fill us with holy dread. “ Because they received not
the love of the truth that they might be saved, God also sent them
strong delusion, that they should believe a lie.” ®

Satan is at the head of the sinful agents of temptation. Though he
acts chiefly by means of external objects addressed to the senses, yet
that he has direct access to the soul there can be little reason to doubt,
from his own nature as an unembodied spirit, or the account given of
his operations in Scripture. He is called “ the Spirit that worketh in
the children of disobedience.” And again, “ Whom the god of this
world hath blinded.” Christ, as the purifier of his church, permits him

1 Jer. XV. 7. * Jer. iv. 11. ® Zech. x. 6, 9.

* Job. XXX. 22. ® 2 Thess. ii. 10 — 11.

508

SERMON XXL

to come into it, though he stands by him to restrain and curb him.
Though he will not commit his fan into the hands of this destroyer, yet
he permits him to use his own fan. Satan has his subaltern agents
whom he employs as instruments in seduction. And as he spake at
first by the mouth of the serpent, which “ was more subtle than any of
the beasts of the field,” so he speaks still by the mouths of those who are
most plausible, or who exert the greatest influence over us. He knows
well how to “ entice thee secretly by thy brother, the son of thy mother,
or thy son or thy daughter, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend
which is as thine own soul.” ^ If Peter had recollected the reproof of
his master, “ Get thee behind me, Satan, for thou savourest not the
things that be of God, but the things that be of man,” he would not
have been so ignorant of the devices of the Tempter, as to suppose that
he could not speak to him by the mouth of a maid-servant.

The wind of error and false doctrine carries away multitudes of
giddy and unsound professors, who are “ tossed to and fro, and carried
about with every wind of doctrine.” There arose of old false prophets
and false Christs, and under such specious appearances did they come,
and such plausible language did they employ, that they drew away
many disciples, and “ if it had been possible would have deceived the
very elect.”

6. Lastly, Christ will accomplish this work by the fan of the final
judgment. This is the last part of the process ; and then will Christ
“ thoroughly purge his floor.” All the preceding steps are preparative
to this, and contribute to the end which it will accomplish. The purga¬
tion wrought by them is only partial. None of them, nor all of them
together, make a complete separation between the chaff and the wheat.
Hypocrites may read the word of God, and sit under the most faithful
and searching ministry, and yet hold fast their hypocrisy, and think
they are something, when they are nothing. The discipline of the
house of God, even when most conscientiously and scripturally admin¬
istered, can only remove those whose conduct is openly offensive.
There was a Ham in the ark, a Judas in the sacred college of the
apostles. We have no ground to think that affliction, or persecution, or
temptation, or public calamities, carry away all that are insincere from
a profession of religion. Professing Christians may go down to the pit
under the influence of a deceived heart, and not know that they carry
a lie in their right hand. “ Many will say in that day. Lord, Lord, have
we not prophesied in thy name 1 and in thy name have cast out devils ?
and in thy name done many wonderful works 1 Have we not eaten
and drunk in thy presence ? And when saw we thee an Imngered, or
athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minis¬
ter unto theel” They may go to the judgment-seat under such delu¬
sions, indulging presumptuous hopes, but they shall not abide there, far
less come from it in that state. The ungodly shall not stand in the

1 Deut. xiii. 6.

THE FAN IN CHRIST ’S HAND.

509

judgment.” In this life, Christ has his fire in Zion and his furnace in
Jerusalem, and there he sits as a refiner. But at the last day, “ a fire
shall devour before him, and it shall be very tempestuous round about
him.” Alas ! “ who shall be able to abide the day of his coming 1 ”

The trial shall be most strict. “We must all appear” — be made
manifest — -“before the judgment -seat of Christ.” The Judge is the
Omniscient One, and on that day will make all men to know that it is
He that trieth the reins and searcheth the heart. When the Lord
Cometh, “ he shall bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and
make manifest the counsels of the hearts.” Hence it is compared to
the severest ordeal — that by fire : “ Every man’s work shall be made
manifest : for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by
fire ; and the fire shall try every man’s work of what sort it is.”

Then a complete separation shall be made between the righteous and
the wicked. Not one of the righteous shall be found on the left hand of
the Judge ; and not one of the wicked on his right hand.

And this separation shall be final. No confusion or mixing of the
two parties shall then appear. “ These shall go away into everlasting
punishment ; but the righteous into life eternal.” “ He shall gather his
wheat into his garner, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable
fire.”

PKINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBUBOH.

9 *

ii? . »'* i- j;'; / ” ,fx *r^ r;^

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